THE SUN IS SITTING HIGH in the sky, casting down on the bustling city. A car is driving towards the roundabout, the traffic congested but still managing to squeeze through the twisting roads of the inner city of Berlin. A police motorbike goes around the circle, blocking people from exiting onto the roundabout. A man looks through his window, his hand resting just above his horn in annoyance at the obstruction in this midday traffic. A police convoy drives through the roundabout. It's made of a couple of police motorbikes on either end, with 4 police cars and two large grey armoured trucks.
Inside the first one, Bucky's head is sitting back against the metal headrest of the metal chair he had been restrained inside, a minor electromagnetic pulse going through his cybernetic arm to stop him from trying to break free of the prison pod he's in. There is a group of armed guards sitting on the other side of the glass-walled pod, looking at Bucky sitting inside, a look of defeat on his face. Inside the other truck, Yawa is in a similar position, her weapons having been removed from her person. She looks over at the guards with a glare, a murderous look in her eyes, thinking about escaping to try and get to Bucky.
In the front of the convoy, an SUV is heading it, driving through the busy German streets. T'Challa is sitting in the front, his hands on his lap but unrestrained. In the back Sam is sitting with Steve, both of them behind the grated panel that's stopping them from reaching into the front. "So, you like cats?" Sam stifles a laugh, tilting his head forward to look at where T'Challa is sitting.
"Sam." Steve glares over at him, elbowing him in the ribs which does nothing to remove Sam's interest in the topic.
"What?" Sam replies. "Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don't wanna know more?"
"Your suit…" Steve says, looking over at T'Challa who is currently sitting in front of them. "It's Vibranium?"
T'Challes eyes narrow as he glances sideways, his eyes glancing over at where Steve is sitting. "The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations." He informs him, looking back towards the front. "A mantle, passed from warrior to warrior. And now, because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king. So, I ask you… as both warrior and king… how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?"
Steve looks over at the king with a stony faced expression, his eyes facing forward, avoiding making eye contact and conversation with the man. He watches as the convoy heads underground, into one of the sub-levels of a multistory secure facility, the walls stretching up high into the sky. A man walks over to them as they are removed from the SUV. He looks mid-40s with grey hair and a forced smile on his face, trying to act friendly with them. Beside him is Sharon, her hands in her pockets as she looks over at the three men exiting the SUV.
Steve's eyes drift over to where the pods are being removed from the trucks that they had come in. Yawa leans forward slightly, being stopped by the metal bar over her chest as she looks at Bucky and the others. Her hands clench, pulling at the restraints with no success. Bucky glances at Yawa, looking defeated. His eyes drift away, looking forward, sighing. His arms are lax in their restraints, wanting to get this over with, just wanting to go back and rest. Steve looks back over at Sharon. "What's gonna happen to them?" Steve asks, pointing towards the other two super soldiers.
"Same thing that ought to happen to you." Everett answers. "Psychological evaluation and extradition." He explains to them, his hands clasped behind his back. He looks Steve up and down.
"This is Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander." Sharon informs them.
Steve looks over at Everett, studying the physically older man with a crucial eye. "What about our lawyer?" Steve asks, crossing his arms over his chest,
"Lawyer." Everett scoffs, laughing slightly. He looks away, his eyes looking over the long corridor before looking back at him, seeing the serious expression on Steve's face. "That's funny." Steve's face hardens, feeling displeased at his words. Everett ignores him, looking over at Sharon. "See their weapons are placed in lockup." He orders before looking at the others. "Oh, we'll write you a receipt." He says dismissively, as if it was nothing.
"I better not look out the window and see anybody flying around in that." Sam warns him, following behind Everett. As they walk away, Steve's eyes catch at Bucky. His eyes look defeated.
They start to walk down the sky walk, heading to the main part of the facility. Everett looks over at T'Challa. "You'll be provided with an office instead of a cell." He informs the king. "Now, do me a favour, stay in it?"
"I don't intend on going anywhere." T'Challa answers.
Natasha stands beside Steve, looking over at him, looking disappointed. "For the record, this is what making things worse looks like." Natasha tells him.
"He's alive." Steve argues.
Natasha glances at the silent video feed of the two pods being set up in rooms a few floors below where they are. A few agents are getting ready, holding thick cords, ready to be inserted. Yawa glances at the camera in the corner, a knowing smile on her face much different to the sad expression on Bucky's face. "At what cost?" Natasha asks, her voice falling. "Yawa was brought into this, Steve. She had nothing to do with the bombing, but now she's being treated just like Bucky is. Would he want that?"
Steve glances down at the ground, playing with his fingers before looking up, listening to Tony on the phone in the background. "No." Tony says into the phone, his voice strained, on the verge of shouting at whoever was on the other end. "Romania was not Accords-sanctioned. And, Colonel Rhodes is supervising cleanup." He glances at the others before looking away, pretending he didn't see them.
"Try not to break anything while we fix this." Natasha tells Steve, sounding disappointed and done with this, her eyes glaring into his soul.
"Consequences?" Tony says, his hand gripped tightly on the phone at his ear as the person argued with him. "You bet there'll be consequences. Obviously you can quote me on that 'cause I just said it. Anything else?" He waits a few seconds, listening to their reply. "Thank you, sir." He places his phone back down and looks over at Steve from where he stands.
"'Consequences'?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow, leaning against the table.
"Secretary Ross wants you three prosecuted." Tony informs him, walking over to the blond man. "Had to give him something."
Steve sighed. "I'm not getting that shield back, am I?" Steve wonders, subconsciously already knowing the answer to the question before he had even asked it.
"Technically, it's the government's property." Natasha reminds him. She looks over at Sam, who's watching in the conversation. "Wings, too."
"That's cold." Sam remarks, gripping his arms tightly across his chest.
"Warmer than jail." Tony replies, glancing at the video feed as the pods are hooked up into the main power supply, the lights dimming slightly inside them before lighting up. Tony walks away from the main room and finds Steve in a glass-walled office overlooking the control room. He walks over to Steve. "Hey, you wanna see something cool?" Tony asked. "I pulled something from Dad's archives. Felt timely." He takes out a small rectangular box and places it on the table, opening it up to show two black fountain pens. "FDR signed the Lend-Lease bill with these in 1941. Provided support to the Allies when they needed it most."
"Some would say it brought our country closer to war." Steve remarks, looking up at the man.
"See?" Tony sits down. "If not for these, you wouldn't be here." He reminds him, placing his hand down on the table beside the box. "I'm trying to…" He sighs. "…what do you call it? That's an olive branch. Is that what you call it?"
"Is Pepper here? I didn't see her." Steve asks, diverting the conversation.
"We're kinda… well, not kinda…" He looks away, dancing around the question, trying not to give him a straight answer, uncomfortable.
"Pregnant?" Steve guesses, looking up at him.
"No." Tony replies quickly, massaging the inside of arm, shaking his head. "Definitely not." He tells him. "We're taking a break. It's nobody's fault." He says before Steve can suggest otherwise.
"I'm so sorry, Tony. I didn't know." Steve apologies quietly, looking down at the files on the desk.
"A few years ago, I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits." Tony admitted, thinking back to the incident with the Mandarin. "Then, we had to mop up HYDRA…" He sighs, looking away. "…and then Ultron. My fault." He looks back over at Steve. "And then, and then, and then, I never stopped. Because the truth is I don't wanna stop. I don't wanna lose her. I thought maybe the Accords could split the difference." He stands back up from the table and paces the room. "In her defence, I'm a handful. Yet, Dad was a pain in the ass, but he and Mom always made it work."
"You know, I'm glad Howard got married." Steve tells him. "I only knew him when he was young and single."
"Oh, really?" Tony sneered, jealous of him, internally angry. "You two knew each other? He never mentioned that. Maybe only a thousand times." He sounds sarcastic, spitting it out like venom. "God, I hated you."
"I don't mean to make things difficult." Steve reminds him, leaning forward on the table.
"I know, because you're a very polite person." Tony joked.
"If I see a situation pointed south… I can't ignore it." Steve argues, his hands gripped. "Sometimes I wish I could." He confesses, his voice low.
"No, you don't." Tony retorts, rolling his eyes slightly.
Steve smiles slyly. "No, I don't." He says quietly before hesitating. He looks back at the billionaire. "Sometimes…"
"Sometimes I wanna punch you in your perfect teeth." Tony confesses. His eyes drift down the sheet on the desk, his hands leaning against the table near them. He looks out at the video footage on the monitors before looking back over at Steve. "But I don't wanna see you gone. We need you, Cap." Tony reminds him. "So far, nothing's happened that can't be undone, if you sign." He presses the paper, pushing it slightly as if to encourage Steve to sign. "We can make the last 24 hours legit. Barnes and Johnson get transferred to an American psych-centre…" He sighs, looking down. "…instead of a Wakandan prison."
Steve frowns thoughtfully and picks up one of the fountain pens, twisting it in his fingers as he thinks. He stands up and paces the room, his eyes downcast before suddenly looking up, turning to face Tony. He glances at the multiple monitors on the walls of the control room, the different rooms, the different angles of offices, corridors and the two occupied prison pods. His eyes drift back over to where Tony is standing, his hands gripped tightly on the pen, ready to sign it. "I'm not saying it's impossible, but there would have to be safeguards." Steve informs him, willingly to think about signing it.
"Sure." Tony answers quickly, happy with the idea, a small smile on his face when he realises Steve might be with it. "Once we put out the PR fire, those documents can be amended. I'd file a motion to have you and Wanda reinstated…"
"Wanda?" Steve suddenly says, interrupting the billionaire, his eyes thinning in suspicion. "What about Wanda?"
"She's fine." Tony reassures him, trying to quickly amend things so that Steve is still on their side. "She's confined to the compound, currently. Vision's keeping her company." He explains briefly, watching Steve's reaction and body movements.
"Oh God, Tony!" Steve groans, his muscles tightening, his mind removing the idea of assisting Tony, or siding with his ideas. "Every time. Every time I think you see things the right way…" He grits his teeth, not able to explain the extent of his distaste with what had happened.
"What?" Tony looks confused about his reaction, walking closer to Steve. "It's a 100 acres with a lap pool. It's got a screening room. There's worse ways to protect people." He argues.
"Protection?" Steve scoffs, looking away from him. "Is that how you see this? This is protection? It's internment, Tony." Steve looks back over at him.
"She's not a US citizen." Tony reminds him harshly.
"Oh, come on, Tony." Steve sighs, shaking his head, disappointed.
"And they don't grant visas to weapons of mass destruction." Tony says coldly, as if it was a normal thing, ignoring the look on Steve's face as if he hadn't just insulted multiple people with the simple description.
Steve looks over at him, my eyes widen. "She's a kid!" Steve shouts at him in accusation.
"GIVE ME A BREAK!" Tony shouts louder, the veins in his neck bulging. "I'm doing what has to be done… to stave off something worse." He tries to explain to him.
Steve nods faintly. He fiddles with the pen, no longer making eye-contact with the paper on the table, removing its idea from existence. "You keep telling yourself that." He puts the pen back down on the table, beside the black presentation box it had come in. "Hate to break up the set." He says with distaste. He quickly leaves the office in a hurry.