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…in the details, Part 6

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point anyway, are platonic.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Taglist is now open! Please send an ask, and I will gladly add you to the list.

And there will be a new story coming that is a side piece to this series, so a masterlist will be on the way soon!

A bit about the OC Kari Drop 10 facts about an OC! from @ocfairygodmother

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 4.8k

“You blow up a building, frame this man for the death of a king, and you stand here and ask me why I don’t call myself a name that hasn’t been relevant to anyone in over two hundred years? If you must know, I stopped using it actively when my last sibling died. It never vanished. Others still invoke it.”

Helmut Zemo had a lot of nerve asking you about a name that had not parted your lips since Roslea said it on her deathbed. She was your Roz, and you were her Kiki, sisterly pet names that always brought both speaker and listener comfort. But that was not what you were called much of the time.

Kari MacOrish may have been the Anglicized version of your name. The Morrigan may have been who you became when pushed in battle. But this name was the one whispered as you rode across the Irish countryside, crossed the sea to what is now Great Britain or parted the veil to reach Avalon.

“If you won’t say it, I will,” Zemo said with a slight grin as you turned and glared at him. “Karenza.”

And that’s when the proverbial penny dropped. Sam had no clue what was going on, but the look on Bucky’s face said it all.

“You were the one Red Skull wanted? Arnim Zola would not shut up about you. They interrogated me about you, but I didn’t know you were her. Wait. That’s what they called you in Katowice when we were fighting…”

“You mean when you tossed me over that railing? When I fell five stories from that rooftop on top of that car? Yeah, that’s what that poor old priest called me. A lot of Catholics saw the wings and thought I was an angel. I never said otherwise. But I didn’t look like this then. I’m still not holding that against you, Buck.”

“I had to go back in cryo sooner because my wounds wouldn’t heal,” Bucky said as you visibly winced. “I still had the wounds when they pulled me out the next time.”

“Then I owe you the apology, Bucky. I guess we were both a bit too good at our jobs back then,” you replied as you looked at the spot where you remember impaling him with a short sword. “I wish it had never come to that…”

“I missed this in history class,” Sam said as he stood with his arms crossed. “Karenza. Is that your code name? Karen with a z-a at the end?”

“It’s a variation of the Cornish name Kerensa, spelled k-e-r-e-n-s-a. My father was a guard for the Ard Ri, the High King of Ireland. He saw traders, nobility and other military types in his days on the Hill of Tara. My mother was with him once and met someone with the name. I started using Kari because it was easier for my siblings to say. It’s sort of like Margaret becoming Peggy, or Elizabeth becoming Lizzie. My mother chose it to please the Goddess Danu. It means love. Another paradox woven around my existence.”

“I actually like that code name,” Sam said with a smile. “But I can see why you kept it under wraps. Anything that sounds like Karen sort of causes a lot of drama these days.”

“You mean ladies with short bobbed hair complaining to managers?” you said with a sigh. “I know. My sister asked me to keep using it to show love can conquer hate. When she died, I sort of lost my way. Roz was my North Star. I need to feel I can use it again. I’m not there yet. But if we are going to Madripoor, then that’s who I might need to be. People, the ones we will likely cross paths with there, know I’m immortal. I’ll tell you more when we’re in the air. It might bore you all to tears, or you might get lulled to sleep. That wouldn’t be so bad, right?”

You looked back at Zemo and took a deep breath before you blocked his way. “This is not your story to tell. Or do you want me telling tales about your family, Zemo? My reach is long, and so is my memory. My paternal grandmother was called The Black Faerie in battle for a reason. Many say I take after her.”

“You mean the one who made the bargain?” Bucky asked as you nodded back to him. “Black Fairy?”

“The old timey spelling f-a-e-r-i-e,” you replied, spelling out the last word, as you thought about the battle axe of a woman you called Mamo, the Irish word for grandmother. “Her name was Siofra O’Cathain MacFeorais. MacOrish was spelled M-a-c-F-e-o-r-a-i-s back in the day. That’s why I went with a simpler spelling. It drove Tony nuts. It made his AI freak out with the cross referencing.”

“I told them just to call you Cupcake Lady,” Sam said with a laugh. Zemo and Bucky looked at him like he was crazy.

“Another time,” you said as you looked at Zemo and shook your head. “I take it you have a way to get to Madripoor?”

“I do. If you all will follow me,” he said as he led everyone to one of his more modern cars and prepared to get the group to a local airstrip where his butler Oeznik was waiting on Zemo’s private jet.

“All this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asked as Zemo smirked.

“I’m a baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.”

Zemo actually had Oeznik take you onto the jet first. Chivalry wasn’t dead. At times it did seem to be locked in the hearts and minds of Southern-born gentlemen, older men and those of European aristocratic bloodlines. Lucky you. You had all three at once!

Once everyone was on the plane and it was airborne, Oeznik came back handing out Champagne and talking to Zemo about a broken refrigerator. The baron and the butler spoke in Sokovian, and you wondered if Bucky had picked up any of it. He knew a lot of languages, so he might have.

“Zemo, if the food is bad, perhaps I can be of assistance?” you said as the baron shot you a look.

“Wait. You said you can’t poof food!” Sam protested as you laughed loudly. You were happy Sam interjected so you would not have to explain to Zemo how you might have known the food was dodgy.

“I told you I could manipulate things so one item replaces another, right?” you said as you waited to see if Oeznik needed a magical assist. Luckily, he did not.

“The food in the galley will do,” the butler replied as he passed around a tray of food that was edible if not elegant. “But I will get the refrigerator fixed once we land.”

“Can’t you poof that?” Sam asked as you groaned before getting up to check the silly thing.

“Sam, not everything needs to be poofed,” you said as you followed Oeznik. “And please, do not use that word around Strange or Wong. I find it endearing. They might not. Now, I have actually fixed equipment before. First time Bucky and Steve saw me, I was covered in grease after fixing an engine on a Jeep. I’ll see what I can do. You all. No funny stuff. And, please, don’t touch my gear.”

You knew that wasn’t going to happen. Bucky grabbed your bag and went to stow it under his seat, but your bag wailed as he stowed it. “What the hell?” he asked as the bag moved slightly and hit his boot. “What’s in this bag anyway?”

“It’s a portable pocket dimension. Do not stick your hands in the bag. Any of you! Like Hermione in Harry Potter, I come prepared.”

“Why did your bag howl?” Sam asked as he looked back toward the galley.

“It roared. Actually, it was more of a mournful wail, now that I think about it. That was not a howl. My brother Malachi was a dragon rider...”

“Oh God! You’re gonna Daenerys Targaryen us?” Sam shouted as he looked under Bucky’s seat. “Dracarys, and we are toast!”

“That is all fiction. And there is no dragon in the bag. They are too big. It’s a baby wyvern,” you said with a chuckle as you walked back and took the bag from under Bucky’s seat. “See?”

You opened the bag to show it was empty.

“I can see now why Tony grumbled a lot when you walked in the room,” Sam started to say as you set the bag down by Zemo and started to pull out what you hoped was suitable clothing for this part of your mission.

“I was not kidding. This is a pocket dimension portal. It only works for me. That noise was a failsafe in case the bag falls into the wrong hands. Do not be the wrong hands.”

“You are a very strange woman,” Zemo noted as he drank more Champagne.

“No, I’m old as dirt, and I don’t take grief from anyone. And sometimes I am really trying not to have everyone around me get killed. Even you, Zemo.”

“See? I’m growing on all of you,” Zemo said as you rolled your eyes and put your clothes on one of the empty seats.

Then all hell broke loose when Zemo opened a book and asked a very simple question: “Who is Nakajima?”

Bucky flew at the baron and put his vibranium hand around Zemo’s throat. “You touch that again, I’ll kill you.”

“I’m sorry. I understand. That list of names. The people you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier,” Zemo continued, but Bucky warned the man not to push it. You prayed Zemo would listen.

You knew right away that the book Bucky took from Zemo was Steve’s notebook. You had seen Bucky pull it from his pocket a few times, so you thought nothing of it. It was a memento from a good friend.

Then Zemo started to go on about super soldiers and the problems they cause.

“Cities fly. Innocent people die. Movements are formed. Wars are fought. You remember that right?” he asked as he looked at Bucky. “As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like The Red Skull?”

You wanted to get in Zemo’s face because you could feel how much it was hurting Bucky, but then he actually started to talk about where you all were going.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like its Skull Island,” Sam said and then Bucky replied, “It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.”

Zemo started in again about how we would all need to blend in there a bit more than we did at the moment. “James, you will to have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said as he took another sip of Champagne.

You looked at Sam as Zemo spit out the last of his words. You and Falcon knew all too well what Zemo meant.

Bucky was back in hell, and you could not do a damned thing about it.

You were not thrilled that you had to become some sort of wannabe hooker, and you could tell Sam and Bucky were not thrilled about it either. At least you did not need to hang all over Zemo like a cheap suit. Not yet anyway.

“I haven’t been here since the 1800s myself. Wait. No. The 1920s. I did stop here once then, but I had much more fun in the 1800s,” you said as you tried to get Sam and Bucky to stop stressing about you. “My brother Cormac was with me then. No one messed with him,” you added as you made sure your heels were still attached to your shoes. You wore them when needed, but you hated them. The heels were removable and as sharp as knives, and you had a feeling in the pit of your stomach they would come in handy sooner or later. Now you just had to make sure not to cut yourself if you tripped.

“Guys, I’m fine,” you said as you set the final part of your glamour in place. Darker hair, brown eyes, slightly more olive complexion. “Yes, this is the face of an old friend of mine. They called people like her Black Irish back home. Children of Irish women and sailors from one of Christopher Columbus’ last journeys. She came from Galway. She never got to leave home, so no one here would know her. I’d rather not be my true self unless I absolutely need to. I don’t have a price on my head, but there have to be people who heard the legends from their grandparents. The crazy woman diving off the rigging of the tallest ships in the harbor, only to sprout wings and fly. Lawless and free. Fun times,” you added with a wink to Sam.

“Fun?” Sam spouted back. “Your idea of fun is not my idea of fun.”

Before you headed off to Low Town, you made sure to turn off your phone. You assumed the others did as well, so you never asked. You did not want Wong, Bruce, Darcy or, heaven forbid, Peter and Ned, calling you now.

Once you made it into the bar to find Selby, things moved so damned fast. Zemo forcing Bucky to act like the Winter Soldier once more. Sam portraying a man who apparently loved snake hearts in his liquor. And there you were, dressed in some slinky, green, low cut on the top and cut to the thigh on the bottom piece of fabric that really should never have been called a dress. A bar fight you could take no part in because, well, you weren’t you at the moment. Sam almost breaking character to make sure Bucky was not lost in the haze after the fight. And then the long awaited meeting with Selby where Zemo tried to sell her Bucky for information on the Super Soldier serum. The woman made your skin crawl, and you were sure you had met some of her kin in days gone by. These sorts of positions were usually passed from one generation to the next.

You were being ignored because everyone assumed you were Zemo’s paid escort for the evening. You wanted nothing better than to punch someone when Sam’s phone rang. When Selby asked him to put it on speaker, Sam tried his best to keep things vague as he danced Sarah through a maze of misleading words, but it blew up in his face the minute she uttered his name.

When Selby ordered you all be killed, you had it. The stupid stilettos on your feet became your easiest form of protection as you flung first the left at one of Selby’s associates, then used the right to cut the face of another flunky. Then there was a shot, and Selby fell to the floor dead.

“Drop your weapons, and follow me,” Zemo said as Sam and Bucky started to follow him out. The silly man forgot you were your—and their—best weapon.

“She’s not behind us!” Sam shouted as he and Bucky turned back to see where you were. Wanda’s screwy link was working overtime, and you knew Bucky felt your anger and could sense when you pulled enough oxygen from the room to make the remainder of Selby’s gang pass out.

“I did not want those eejits following us!” you shouted as you were all met by a hail of bullets, your brogue getting thicker by the second. “Go! I’ve got this!”

“Does she really…” Zemo started to ask as the bullets that got near the trio suddenly whipped back toward the guns they were fired from.

“I said I’ve got this!” you screamed as green runes, much like those used by Stephen Strange, circled your hands as a barrier went up between you and what seemed like every soldier of fortune in Madripoor.

“Perhaps now would be a good time…” Zemo started to say when another avenging angel showed up. Sharon Carter.

“Get your friend and let’s go,” she shouted as she motioned toward a car that was in an alley.

“I need to finish this!” you shouted back as you opened all the car doors to make a final point. You glared at Bucky, and you knew in that instant he saw the woman he fought in Poland. This time he wasn’t having it.

“How long does the barrier last once we leave?” Bucky shouted as he started to run back toward you.

“About five minutes,” you said as you sent a second wave of runes at the barrier. “But that might not be good enough. You have a mission to complete. Let me do my job!”

“You are not staying here,” Bucky said as he looped his vibranium hand around your upper left arm and started to guide you toward the car. “Cormac would not want you to die here.”

You shot a look at Bucky and realized that stupid link might have actually let him see some of the memories of your days in Madripoor.

“Do not use my brother’s name!” you shouted as you got into the back of Sharon’s car, wedged between Zemo and Bucky. As you sat between the two men, you were pissed, and you wanted to take out all your frustration on the hired guns of Madripoor. But flashes of memory were starting to dog you as you felt more or less trapped where you were.

It wasn’t a memory of Cormac back in the day when people in Madripoor looked more like Jack Sparrow and Captain Morgan than they did now.

It wasn’t your visit here in the 1920s when The Lost Generation looked for the new and exciting at every turn.

This was more recent, and thanks to Wanda’s machinations, you were not sure what had happened. Fleeting glimpses of people cheering your name from a few dark corners made you nervous. So did street art that celebrated you in all your glory. You drove past some and prayed no one else noticed it.

As you felt the barrier fall, you could sense that the road to High Town, for the moment anyway, was a safe enough passage for your group. But you took no chances as you put a barrier around the car as you made your way toward Sharon’s home.

“You didn’t make enough of a name for yourself a few months ago?” Sharon asked as she exited the car while you followed Bucky out of the back seat. “You aren’t exactly easy to forget,” she said as she opened the security doors and ushered everyone inside her home. “You make the rest of us ladies look bad. We can’t all be goddesses.”

You stood there, mouth agape, floundering as your eyes met Bucky’s and Sam’s. This was as new to you as it was to them. Zemo even seemed a bit taken aback by the exchange, and he, for the most part, never seemed to let anything bother him.

You followed the others quietly as you listened to Sharon explain how she had to avoid the authorities after giving Steve his shield and Sam his wings so they could help Bucky. She had basically become a hustler instead of just pretending to be one.

“We all play different parts, whether we want to or not,” you mumbled as you looked at all the artwork Sharon had in her home. It was all real. And some of it, heaven help you, was of you. “Holy shit,” Sam said as he saw a large statue that was of you. It was done in the early 1800s during your halcyon days in Madripoor.

“My sister Hayley was an artist, and one of her friends did that statue,” you said as you tried not to look at the thing. “It was back during a revival of goddess worship. I’m surprised it survived this long.”

“Why were you here before?” Sharon asked as you all went into her apartment. “Recently, I mean. Not back when the Jolly Roger was flying all over the place.”

“I don’t know,” you said as you went into her bathroom, grabbing some clothes she tossed to you before you went inside. “Thanks. You really don’t have to go to all this trouble for me.”

As you shut the door, you listened to the group talking and heard Sharon say, “Before you were his pet psycho, you were Mr. America, Cap’s best friend.”

“She really is awful now,” Bucky replied as you could sense the tensions shifting in the room beyond that bathroom door. You sunk to the floor and sobbed into one of the bath towels before trying to get dressed. Whatever happened with Wanda had caused you to freak out somehow, and you weren’t sure if you could trust yourself or not.

“You OK in there?” Sam said as he stood outside the door.

“I’m just getting the dress fastened,” you said as you actually did start getting dressed. Even if you wanted to go see Wong, now was not the time to do it. “Oh shit,” you said audibly as you pulled out your phone and saw that the Magnificent Trio back in Jersey had been texting you for over a day now.

“Bruce is trying to text you,” Bucky shouted as he walked up to the bathroom door. “He texted me. He never texts me.”

“Me, too,” Sam chimed in as you walked out the door, waving your phone before stopping to adjust the Little Black Dress Sharon loaned you.

“I’ll text them later,” you said as you walked over and poured yourself a glass of what smelled like bourbon.

“Nope. Sit,” Sam said as he pointed toward the open space on the sofa next to where Bucky was sitting once more. “Use those magic fingers to let them know you aren’t dead…” Bucky then gave you The Face as you sat down. He had a habit of just giving you one of those hang dog sad looks until you did what everyone wanted you to do.

“Fine,” you mumbled, but it wasn’t fine at all. Suddenly a hologram of Bruce and Wong appeared. “So, where is Dr. Lewis?”

“Getting takeout,” Wong said as he looked vexed. “Parker called us. He said you sounded weird when you spoke to him.”

“I was in a bloody plane flying to Berlin. In the middle of the night. I think I was entitled to sound a little off,” you grumbled as you finished your bourbon. “I am not exactly in the best place to chat. Can it wait a bit?”

“We just wanted to make sure you were OK. Darcy’s friends Woo and Rambeau are getting us those records. When you get back…”

“Understood. Later, guys,” you replied as you ended the call. “What? Parker helped me enhance my phone. I made him a cake. Red velvet. Cream cheese frosting. Even trade.”

“In front of Zemo? Seriously?” Bucky asked as you shook your head.

“Buck, he probably knows my blood type and my damned shoe size anyway,” you noted before Sharon went to attend to her party guests and get the guys any information on the maker of the new Super Soldier serum, Dr. Wilfred Nagel. That was the only bit of information given to you by Selby before she was killed. “Sharon said we should go have a good time. I plan to,” you said as you were the first out the door of her living room and into the party space in her basement. The music was loud and very EDM, so it was easy to get lost in it as you got away from Sam, Bucky and Zemo.

“She is not OK,” you could hear Sam and Bucky say as they stood to one side as they watched Zemo dance. As you turned to watch him, too, you could see that Helmut Zemo was not the greatest dancer, but at least he seemed to be enjoying his temporary freedom. “And what was up with that weird statue?” Sam added as he turned from watching Zemo to watching you. That damned link was working overtime, but for a few minutes it did give you an advantage.

“You think I know?” Bucky replied as you kept dancing in a far corner of the club. You just wanted to forget everything that happened since you went through that portal to the Baltimore police station.

Correction. Since you left the compound in the first place and got sucked into Wanda’s New Jersey Nightmare.

No. Since you showed up that Halloween night to give Pepper Potts the cupcakes she ordered for the Avengers’ costume party for underprivileged kids.

Forget that. You never should have left Ireland in the first place.

{{Cormac, I wish you were here to help me fix this stupid mess}} you mused as you continued to dance. {{Why did I show up here? I wish I could remember}}

As the music pulsed and people moved all around you, you got lost in your own world, and only Bucky yelling “Hey!” got you back to this one.

“Feck off,” you growled under your breath as you spun around and just glared at the man.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Do one, Barnes,” you continued as everything finally came to a head. Just looking at him after what he had told you about Poland’s aftermath made you hurt like hell. “Wait. One damned question. Back in Baltimore. Why was it so damned important to you that I vanished for six months? I said good bye. The spell was stupid. I realize that now. But I’m not one of the team. I’m not beholden to anyone to check in. And I’m not exactly anyone’s BFF. Thinking I might be Wanda’s got me into this damned mess.”

Why you decided to grill Bucky here and now you had no damned clue. But it felt like it had to be done before you went on to find Nagel.

“I’m not Steve. He was your best friend. I know why his leaving was so damned hard on you. But me? I was some weirdo girl in the base club in 1943 singing and slinging drinks, and then I popped up and helped fight a maniac after 70 years or so. Crazy events? Yes. But having me walk away should not carry the same emotional weight as your best friend leaving.”

Bucky just stared at you and didn’t say a word. That part was incredibly frustrating, but that was his usual way of handling things.

“Fine. I’ll just get another drink and find another corner to dance in,” you said as you started to wander off.

“I just thought you, of all people, would understand,” he said as he looked down at his feet again. “All of it. Especially after Katowice.”

“No more about Katowice. Please,” you replied, biting your lip until you drew blood. “Not after what you told me today.”

“You really don’t remember much about that fight, do you?” Bucky said as he continued to follow you to another dark corner of the dance floor. “You tried to heal me, and that’s when you ended up trying to deprogram me. I had my mask on, so I didn’t think you realized who I was…”

“Not until I was healing you. I wandered into your mind, and I saw what had been done to you. What I tried to do caused your nose to bleed and your eyes rolled back in your head. Then I stopped. I could have killed you. Under the circumstances, I guess I should have tried to kill you if I could…but I couldn’t.”

“And I was supposed to kill you. No big shock there,” Bucky noted as he grinned slightly. “But fate had other plans. Look at us now.”

“Yeah, you stuck in my head, and me in yours. You deserve happiness, Buck. That’s why I have to undo what Wanda did. So you can go live your life once this is done. Now, before I get totally stupid and say a lot that will only break my heart or get you pissed, I think I better go crawl in a corner until we head out tomorrow. Night, Buck.”

“What now?” Sam asked as you walked past him.

“Just setting the man straight,” you said as you motioned back to Bucky. “I’m going to try to catch a nap. Night, Sam. Make sure Zemo doesn’t wander off.”

“What did you do?” you heard Sam ask Bucky as you headed up the stairs.

“She…thinks I don’t know things…” Bucky chuckled. “Whatever Wanda did spooked her. Maybe, when this is over, we need to go with her to see Bruce and Wong?”

“Because she can’t do it herself? Or because you may need to be there so you can get unattached?” Sam grumbled as they went to get Zemo to head back to Sharon’s apartment. But they stopped when Zemo pointed toward the stairs.

There you were, having a staring contest with Sharon as she held a huge sword case in her hands.

“Well? Care to explain why this was just left at my doorstep?” Sharon asked as she went to open the case.

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