Bucharest hadn’t been home, but it had been quiet. And for you and Bucky, that was enough.

A former Widow. The former Winter Soldier. Two people the world had turned into weapons, now trying to live unnoticed, or at least unbothered. You didn’t leave tracks. You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t dream.

The apartment was a bare box: a mattress on the floor, a sink that leaked, a drawer full of tools Bucky picked through when his hands got restless. Some nights you cleaned your gear while he rewired the radio. Most nights, neither of you slept.

It wasn’t a life. But it was peace, in a way.

You had just been out for groceries. Routine. Forgettable. The kind of task that made a day feel less haunted.

But the second you opened the apartment door, you felt it.

Something was wrong.

It was too still inside. No creak of settling pipes. No hum from the radio. Just a pause. Stretched. Deliberate.

You stepped in first, grocery bag in hand. Bucky followed right behind you and stopped cold.

Steve Rogers was already in the apartment.

He stood in the middle of the room, suited up. Shield on his back. Gloves on. He didn’t speak. Just watched the two of you carefully, like he was waiting to see which version of Bucky had walked through the door.

The air turned heavy.

Steve’s voice cut through the stillness. “Do you know me?”

Bucky answered, quiet and neutral. “You’re Steve. I read about you in a museum.”

A burst of static came through the comm in Steve’s ear. Sam Wilson’s voice followed, clipped and sharp. “German Special Forces. Approaching from the south.”

“Understood,” Steve replied, not taking his eyes off Bucky.

Tension wrapped around the room like a wire pulled too tight.

“I know you're nervous,” Steve said. “And you have plenty of reason to be. But you're lying.”

You stepped forward then, your voice even. “We weren’t in Vienna. He doesn’t do that stuff anymore.”

Steve’s eyes flicked to you. His expression didn’t change, but something in his posture did. He recognized what you were. Widow. Controlled. Measured. Dangerous.

Another crackle came through the comm. Sam again. “They’re entering the building.”

Steve turned back to Bucky. “The people who think you did this — they’re coming now. And they’re not planning on taking you alive.”

Bucky exhaled slowly. “That’s smart,” he said. “Good strategy.”

Above you, boots slammed across the roof.

“They’re on the roof. I’m compromised,” Sam said in Steve’s ear.

Steve took a step closer. “This doesn’t have to end in a fight, Buck.”

Bucky didn’t hesitate. “It always ends in a fight.”

“Five seconds,” came Sam’s voice.

Steve pressed on. “You pulled me from the river. Why?”

Bucky’s answer was low. “I don’t know.”

“Three seconds.” Sam warns down the comm.

Steve locked eyes with him. “Yes, you do.”

Then, the window exploded inward in a burst of glass and smoke.

A grenade hit the floor and rolled toward the center of the room.

Bucky reacted immediately. He kicked it toward Steve, who dropped and shielded the blast.