STEVE

It took me long enough to realize that we were drugged to be brought to the underwater prison to sign the Accords, but the fact that Wanda is here now, sending us into our new worst fears, I'm even more lost. I watch her hit Tori with the red sparks first, then myself. The red fills my eyes, sending me off inside my own head.

The dream isn't like last time. In fact, it's completely different. I'm standing outside of an operating room in a hospital, staring through the glass. Surgeons and doctors hover over a small, thin body. Her skin is pale and her eyes are closed as she lays unmoving on the operating table — Tori. Everything is calm until a monitor starts beeping, causing everyone inside to start running around frantically. I feel myself pounding on the glass, unable to go inside and help them. That's when the heart monitor shows a horizontal line, dead and bright red. I start to scream, tears streaming down my cheeks as I slide down the wall and sit on the floor with my face in my hands.

When I open my eyes, it's a new setting, one similar to the first dream Wanda gave me. I pass through the crowd, letting sobs rack through me. I'm in the forties, but I see Tori's small figure in the distance wearing a brown skirt and a green military jacket adorned with golden pins. Her hair is curled up in tight knots above her shoulders, like many women during wartime. A red splotch seeps through her white button up, eventually reaching the green tie.

"What's wrong, honey?" she asks me, bringing my face up and forcing me to look her in her sad eyes. Her red lips curl into a small smile, the best that she can muster. A few moments later, Bucky approaches us with a grin. His left arm is nonexistent, not even the metal one is there to replace it; however, there are flakes of ice curling around his right hand's fingertips.

A piercing gunshot rings through the large room, shaking the creaky floor boards. My head whips around to face the spot where it came from, but no one is armed. Hell, there isn't anyone left. The room has been exterminated of everything, not another person and not a single chair or table in sight. I turn back to face Tori, her lips parting open. Our eyes drop to her stomach, where blood begins to seep through her jacket. As she collapses to the floor I hold her in my arms, rocking her and whispering reassuring words for the both of us as I apply pressure to the wound. Her trembling hand pulls at my green jacket, pulling me closer to her. She just smiles, then goes limp in my arms. Her hand falls, her palm covered in blood.

I glance down at my jacket, and I feel a sticky warm substance on my skin over my chest. I can't feel pain, after all it's just in my mind. When I look back down at Tori, her military outfit has been replaced with a white gown, slowly going red. I scream and beg my mind for mercy, pleading to be released back into reality. Sure enough, my wish came true. Whether or not it's a good thing I'm out of my thoughts, escaping from my fears.

•••

I jolt awake in my chair, instinctively trying to pull myself from the restraints around my wrists that connect me to a chair. Tony and Wanda stand up in front of me. Stark waits with his arms crossed, keeping his eyes fixed on Tori, who flinches in her chair. It hurts so bad to see her in a straightjacket. It's my fault that she's in it. She's not insane, so why did they even put her in one and in a padded cell? My questions seize in my thoughts by Wanda wincing, pulling her arms away from Tori and stopping the red particles floating in the air.

Tori bolts up, breathing heavily. She tugs at the jacket that's keeping her arms secure by her sides, panic clearly rushing through her. Avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room she keeps her head down, sighing in defeat.

"I'm so sorry," Wanda whispers. Her gaze is on Tori, who pulls her legs up into the chair. The girl glances over to me, her eyes filled with sadness. "I apologize to you both."

Everyone stays silent after that, Tori and I keeping our thoughts to ourselves. Whatever Wanda was forcing her to see was so powerful that it hurt her, so how horrible could it have been? Wanda scurries out of the room, tears streaming down her face as the door slams behind her. Tony sits back down in a chair across from us, waiting rather patiently.

"Let me out and give me a pen," Tori mutters out of the blue.

"Hm?" Tony asks, sitting up in his chair.

"I said let me out of this thing and give me a damn pen, Anthony," she spits.

I glance at the signed document in front of us, staring at the two missing signatures. Soon there is only going to be one — mine. "Me too," I tell Tony, watching him unstrap Tori from that godawful jacket and collar.

"Really? Both of you? You've already cracked?" he asks, his eyes filled with hope.

"Didn't you hear her?" I shoot back. "Give her a damn pen and find out."

Tony scoffs. "Hilarious. But seriously, you're both gonna agree just like that?" He tosses Tori a blue pen, and she catches it just as the straightjacket and metal around her hands all clatter to the floor.

"Well, you've given us no choice," Tori states, scribbling her signature on the paper. "Plus, better to be somewhat free and still working than hiding away and hurting the world, eh?"

Tony unclasps me from the chair as Tori smacks the pen down in front of me on the table. I take a deep breath, picking it up. Do I really want to do this? She's right, freedom and keeping people safe without getting in trouble is better than the opposite. Now that we're on the most wanted list, it's kind of our only hope. I slowly write my signature, carefully watching the blue ink sink into the paper. As soon as I remove the tip from the paper, Tony snatches the pen and the document up, a grin on his face.

"Thank you both for your cooperation and time," he says, leaving the room with the door open behind him.

I glance at Tori, who watches him leave with a frown. I put my hand on her leg, gaining her attention. She jolts up, and her eyes are wide with surprise.

"It was for the best," I reassure her in the softest, gentlest tone I can muster.

"Yeah," she breathes out. "Let's get out of here."