Chapter Text
[September 15, 2016]
[2:37 PM]
[Vienna Holding Facility]
Steve stepped out of the police van that they had transported him in and instinctively looked to the right, towards Bucky. He was contained in a metal box that had glass on three sides, letting people outside peer in as if he were an animal in a cage. The cell moved through the room on a track inlaid on the floor, where it was currently shifting Bucky backwards into a room with slightly opened blast doors. He tried to catch the other man’s eyes, but Bucky looked away and instead stared at his knees.
Sam stepped out behind him and Steve forced himself to look away, turning to the left where Sharon and a man in a crisp gray suit with a navy blue tie were standing, flanked by a trio of German SWAT officers. Steve started forward toward the group before calling out, “What’s gonna happen to him?”
“Same thing that ought to happen to you. Psychological evaluation and extradition,” the man in the gray suit automatically snapped back, arms still hanging loose by his sides.
Sharon glanced between Steve and the suit. “This is Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander.” She had her hands clasped tightly together in front of her, knuckles white. Her lips were pursed, almost as if she were begging Steve, Please don’t do anything stupid.
Steve looked away from her and back to Ross. “What about a lawyer?”
A breath of laughter left Ross as he smirked. “Lawyer. That’s funny.” The look Sharon gave the man could only be described as scathing.
Unconsciously, Steve set his jaw. “The Sixth Amendment says every person has the right to a lawyer.”
Ross dramatically looked around the room. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Rogers, but I don’t think we’re in America.”
“Austria still has the right to attorney in their constitution,” Sharon cut in, ignoring the glare that Ross shot her way.
“And besides,” Steve felt the need to butt in, “Bucky is an American citizen. Isn’t the government responsible for providing him with legal counsel in a foreign court?”
“Only if he asks for it in the first place,” Ross rebutted. “And he hasn’t said a word since we took him in.”
Steve could feel the situation slipping away from him. He pushed the nails of his right hand harshly against his palm, wrenching himself away from the urge to fight his way through the building to get to Bucky. There were too many guns to fight through without his shield, not to mention the Wakandan prince behind him who had somehow matched him in strength.
He took a deep breath in and opened his mouth—
“What if we provide him with a lawyer? An American one, and bring them over here for a trial?”
Sam’s voice breached the silence that had gathered between the group. Steve looked back at his friend, grateful. Sam met his gaze with a slight nod. I got your back.
The question seemed to stump Ross for a few seconds. “Well,” he started, probably trying not to stumble over his words, “he still needs to accept the legal counsel. You can’t just force a lawyer on him.”
Steve started nodding immediately, already planning his trip back to the US before Ross cut him off preemptively.
“And, you only get 24 hours, Vienna time. Starting now.”
[September 15, 2016]
[10:13 AM]
[Wright & Co. Law Offices]
“Anyway, that’s everything that you need to know for now. I’m sorry to ask on such short notice—”
Th. That’s Captain America.
“—but would you be willing to take his case?”
That’s Captain America. In my office. Sitting on my couch.
Captain America wants to hire me. Captain. Goddamn. America.
“Of course we will! Right, Nick?” For being such a small person, Maya could put quite a lot of force behind her elbow.
Phoenix Wright, attorney at law, made a noise like air escaping a balloon as said elbow dug into his ribs. “Gah! Uh. Yes, of course. I’d—uh. Wow.” Unsuccessfully, he tried to drag his brain over to business and away from his memories of seeing the exact face staring at him now in the pages of his history textbooks. “I’d be honored, Mr.—Captain—uh—”
Steven Grant Rogers—Captain goddamn America—smiled softly at Phoenix and Maya. “You can call me Steve. Thank you so much, Mr. Wright, Ms. Fey; you have no idea what this means to me.”
Phoenix felt a little lightheaded. Or a lot. “I… really don’t think I can do that, sir.”
“We’re happy to help!” Maya exclaimed, grinning. “I mean, as long as there’s an autograph included in our payment—”
“Maya!”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers, please ignore her. She’s a menace to society.” Phoenix adjusted his tie. “Now, uh—I’d like a chance to speak with the defendant before the trial, if that’s possible?”
“Of course.” Captain America—Captain America—nodded. “I should be able to get you two the correct security clearance. Can I give you a lift?”
“We’ll need one!” Maya said cheerily. “Nick can’t drive!”
“MAYA!”
“WHAT?”
A grin spread across the Captain’s face, lighting a surprisingly mischievous glint in his eye. “Good thing we ain’t driving, then.”
[September 15, 2016]
[9:48 PM]
[Holding Facility Cell]
Bucky didn’t think that this Everett Ross guy knew that he could hear every word the man was saying outside of the glass box they’d stuck him in.
“How the hell did he get an American lawyer here so fast? Wasn’t he supposed to be on lockdown?!”
“Apparently, he took a private jet, sir—”
“Private—? Who the hell let him have a private jet!?!? I thought Stark was on our side!”
A soft breath of laughter left Bucky’s lips. Typical Steve, doing things under the brass’ noses without them ever knowing a thing until it was too late to stop him.
Ross stopped about fifteen feet away from the cage with a sigh. “Alright, this has gotten way out of hand. I need you to call the Secretary of State. Explain to him what’s happened, I’ll talk to Barnes.”
A flash of instinctual fear flashed through Bucky at the words “Secretary of State” before he crushed it down with extreme prejudice. Pierce is dead, he reminded himself. He was killed when Project Insight failed.
Dismissing thoughts of his former handler from his head, he focused back on the man now striding toward his cell. Ross stopped and sat at the small desk about five feet away before clearing his throat loudly.
The sound of his voice echoing loudly throughout his small container compared to the relatively soft noise from before nearly made Bucky flinch.
“Steve Rogers,” the name sounded as if it were ripped out of the man’s mouth, “has provided you with a potential option for legal counsel. I am obligated to tell you that you may choose whether or not to accept this offer.”
Bucky couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the clearly tense man. “Do I getta meet the fella first?” The Brooklyn accent spilled out without his permission. So did the lack of respect. Guess thinking about Steve before speaking brought him out. And of course he would never ask for permission.
Ross seemed taken aback, either by the accent or the fact that Bucky had spoken in the first place. Maybe he was expecting Russian instead of old-timey New Yawk. To his credit, he recovered quickly and answered the question.
“You do. He’s here now, actually—Rogers flew him in from California.” He pressed a button, then leaned toward what was probably an intercom and ordered, “Send him in, let’s just get this over with.”
The door opened, and in walked two people. The first was presumably the suit Steve had brought in—a man of average height, approximately 180-190 pounds, American with Japanese ancestry. His hair was black with a blue tint and slicked back into stylish spikes, but the almost cheap blue suit he wore betrayed the confidence he walked with by tagging him as a lower class than he would’ve likely wanted to be perceived as. He was fairly young, probably mid twenties, and fairly attractive. And next to him…
Bucky wished he could keep a permanent picture of the look on Ross’ face as he shouted “Who in the HELL is the hippie chick?!”
The hippie chick in question—a teenage girl who was very short compared to her companion and wearing some sort of pink-and-purple traditional clothing with a big bow—flashed Ross a cheerful smile. “I’m the ‘and Co.’!” she chirped, gesturing at herself and the suit. “He’s Wright, I’m And Co!”
“She’s my assistant, Mr. Ross,” the suit said quickly. “Mr. Rogers said he’d get both of us clearance—”
“Fine,” Ross snapped. “Whatever! This is enough of a goddamn circus already!”
Then he stormed out, leaving Bucky with the girl and the suit, the latter of which sat down at the desk Ross had vacated.
“Uh—nice to meet you, Sergeant Barnes,” he said, adjusting his tie. “Er—my name is Phoenix Wright, and this is Maya Fey. Mr. Rogers asked me to take your case.” He indicated his lapel, where a small gold badge was fastened. “I’m a defense attorney.”
“I know,” Bucky said simply.
His lack of enthusiasm seemed to startle the suit for a second, but he recovered quickly enough, leaning forward to focus his attention on Bucky.
“Then you also know that I was hired by your friend, Captain Rogers, to defend you in court. A trial, from what I’ve gathered, will only be held if you accept my help, no matter how illegal it would be to not give you one.”
Bucky snorted. “The trial won’t be fair if it does happen. It doesn’t matter whether I’m guilty or not. The world wants me locked up or dead for the things I did, and I don’t blame them.” He looked down at the metal of his left fist. “Frankly, it might be for the best.”
The suit blinked, stunned. He opened his mouth, but before he could actually say anything—
“That's not what Cap thinks,” the girl blurted out, stubbornness lining her face. “He asked us to help you because he believes in you! And Captain America’s never wrong about things like that.”
A scowl settled itself on Bucky’s face. Not the look of anger that the Winter Soldier usually had when fighting an opponent, but an expression of utter frustration when faced with a stubborn little brat that seemed all too familiar.
“And where’d you learn that from, huh?” he challenged. “A textbook taught to you in kiddy school written by some schmuck who was born decades after Steve took a swan dive into the arctic? Naw, I knew that little shit, and there was plenty of ideas he had that threw us ass-up into plenty of shitstorms that I had to drag us out of. And listen, I ain’t lettin’ that stubborn punk throw himself head first into this one only to have it fall and burn under his fingers. He deserves better than for me to give him that false hope.”
The rant left him panting in his chair, the metal surrounding his left arm giving a disconcerting whine that made his head throb even more than the memories pounding at his temples. He slowly took a deep breath, letting his shoulders relax and the arm wind down. It gave a slight whirring noise, plates adjusting as he settled back down. “So no,” he started quietly this time, “I don’t want your help.”
The suit stared at him, dumbfounded. Bucky noticed, somewhat detachedly, that his eyes were two different colors—blue on the right, brown on the left. “What?”
“You heard me, Spiky. I said no.”
The suit looked oddly crestfallen. The girl puffed out her cheeks, then seemed to think of something.
“Mr. Barnes,” the suit started, “if there’s any way I can change your mind—”
“Nick,” the girl cut him off, “why don’t you go ahead and talk to Cap?”
He looked quizzically at her, clearly taken aback. “Maya?”
“I really think you should go talk to Cap,” she said, grinning very pointedly. “Right now. I’ll catch up in a minute!”
The suit gave her a befuddled look but nodded and straightened his blazer. For a moment, the gold badge on his lapel caught the light. “Alright… I’ll see you in a minute, then.” He glanced back at Bucky, frowning. “I… really hope you reconsider. Good evening, Sergeant Barnes.”
Once the suit was gone, the girl took a deep breath. “Sergeant Barnes…” she began, her hands curling into determined fists. “Please let Nick defend you! I know you don’t really have a reason to trust us, but I promise he’ll believe in you and fight as hard as he can!”
When Bucky said nothing, she pressed on. “I get it! I didn’t think he’d believe me either!” Her eyes flashed. “But he did! And he won my case! If he’s offered to defend you, that means he’s ready to fight ‘til the end! So please believe in him!”
Confusion lanced through Bucky’s brain alongside the already throbbing headache. “Wait, he won your case? The hell does that mean?” He asked skeptically. “What were you in for, shoplifting?”
The girl went quiet, lowering her head as her eyes darkened. “Murder,” she whispered. “I was framed for murder.”
Now it was Bucky’s turn to blink in surprise. “… What?”
She took a deep breath, one hand wrapping tightly around the oddly-shaped jewel on her necklace as if she were trying to draw strength from it. “About six months ago… my older sister was murdered. The man who did it…he tried to frame me.” There was a pause as she took another deep breath before continuing. “Nick was the only one who believed that I was innocent. He was the only person on my side then, and at the time, he didn’t even know me.” She stared hard at him, steely grit behind her eyes. “Nick always believes in his clients, and fights as hard as he can. No matter what.”
The girl’s speech tugged at a part of his heart that Bucky thought had been ripped out of him by Hydra a long time ago. A part that he thought he had lost on that cold table in Kreischberg, before Steve—all big and warm and kind compared to the cruelty and dark of that lab—had pushed it back into his chest like a beacon on a stormy night.
After all his suffering, it was pulled out of his chest like Pandora herself had opened the box once more;
Hope shone through.
And what the hell? He could never say no to a stubborn little firecracker.
[September 15, 2016]
[10:12 PM]
[Vienna Holding Facility]
“I really am sorry, Mr. Rogers…”
The worst part, to Phoenix’s mind at least, was that he just looked put out. Not angry, just disappointed.
“I do want to help, really,” he pressed on, cringing internally as his own voice sped up. “I do! But if he refuses to let me represent him, then I can’t do anything about that. I’d defend him if I could, but he made it pretty clear that he doesn’t trust me as far as—well, not as far as he could throw me, he could probably throw me pretty far—as far as Maya could throw me. Er. Sorry.”
Across from him, Steve Rogers nodded dejectedly. “I see. Thanks anyway, Mr. Wright. The fact that you’re willing to defend him at all means more than you know.”
Good god, Phoenix thought, I let down Captain America. I let Captain goddamn America down and now I have to live with that forever.
A clatter of beads and clack of sandals heralded Maya’s arrival, saving Phoenix from having to come up with a response. “Nick!” she exclaimed. “Great news!”
Great news?! I let down Captain America! “What is it, Maya?” he said out loud, hoping his internal wailing didn’t show on his face.
Maya grinned like the cat that got the cream. “James Buchanan Barnes,” she declared, “has officially requested the services of Wright and Co. Law Offices!”
Steve’s eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful!”
“That’s—Maya, that’s amazing!” Phoenix shook his head, smiling in disbelief. It seemed he had a fighting chance after all. “What did you even say?”
“Yeah, yeah, you’d be lost without me,” Maya laughed.
“You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Rogers.” Phoenix smiled, standing up from the table and straightening his blazer. “I have some things I should discuss with my client.”
[September 15, 2016]
[11:18 PM]
[Everett Ross’ Office]
Steve had been waiting in the glass box of an office room for almost an hour at this point. Fifteen minutes ago, the lawyer he had hired had joined him nervously, and they had discussed small things about Bucky and the case just to fill the time. Mr. Wright seemed determined to get Bucky a Not Guilty verdict, which settled the small worry Steve had been harboring about having chosen the right person.
They were interrupted from their quiet conversation when the current Secretary of State, Thaddeus Ross, pushed open the door to the office and snapped at the two guards following close behind. “Leave us,” he barked, striding to the desk at the back of the room and letting the door swing shut.
Instead of sitting down, the man stood facing away from Steve and Mr. Wright, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. He seemed a hell of a lot less relaxed than the last time Steve had seen him. “When Stark called me and said that there would be consequences for your actions, Rogers,” he started, “I thought that meant that you would be detained in a cell here, not taking a private jet across the world and back to bring the Winter Soldier an attorney of all things.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Steve started, “What I was doing was saving an American citizen and our longest-serving prisoner of war from a wrongful detainment and prosecution for a crime that he did not commit.”
With that statement, Ross turned and finally looked Steve in the eye, staring down at him. “No, Rogers. What you did was an unsanctioned act in direct violation of the Accords, where you aided and abetted a known terrorist into a temporary escape from justice.” Steve met his gaze and tightened his jaw, not giving in to such blatant attempts at intimidation.
Wright cleared his throat from beside him, drawing Ross’ gaze away for a moment. “If I may, sir—”
“And just who the hell are you?”
Despite looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else, Wright answered. “Phoenix Wright. I’m Sergeant Barnes’ attorney. The Sokovia Accords haven’t been ratified yet, for one thing, and for another, all charges against my client are alleged until his guilt is proven.”
Ross leaned against the desk with his hands spread apart. “You mean the Accords that would have been ratified if not for—” he paused, an odd flicker of recognition passing through his eyes. “Wait… are you the same Phoenix Wright who was the defense in the Mia Fey murder?”
Wright looked taken aback. “I—yes, that was me. Why?”
Ross paused once more before stepping away from the desk and turning his back on them again. “It doesn’t matter.” He threw a hand back as if he were swatting a fly. “Go ahead, have your silly trial. It won’t matter in the long run.”
While this was obviously a dismissal, and Wright definitely took it as one as he headed for the door, Steve narrowed his eyes as he stood from his seat. While Ross was certainly hiding something from the both of them, trying to interrogate the man about it was going to end in failure, no matter how cautiously Steve went about it with his questioning.
Mia Fey…didn’t Wright’s assistant have the same last name?
He glanced back at Ross while he headed for the door. Whatever it was, Wright was sure to know at least something about it.
[September 15, 2016]
[4:31 PM]
[Tony Stark’s Mansion]
“Anyway, that’s the facts of the case as I know them,” Tony finished, sliding the tablet he’d been holding across the table. “Think you can work with that?”
Miles Edgeworth, ace prosecutor and (at least from Tony’s impression of him) complete stuffed shirt, glanced at the document open on the tablet and nodded. “I’ve won convictions with less, Mr. Stark,” he said, lips twitching into a self-assured smirk. “I assure you, I can and will prevail in this case.”
“News from the defense, boys.” Natasha’s heels clicked against the tile floor as she walked in, holding up a tablet of her own. “Looks like Steve found Barnes a lawyer.”
Tony threw his hands up. “Of course. Of course he did. He just can’t let this one lie, can he? Even though Barnes is obviously—” he paused, took a deep breath, and hoped the headache he was starting to feel come on wouldn’t turn into a migraine. “Who’d he get, Matt Murdock?”
Natasha shook her head. “Some guy named Phoenix Wright. Technically he’s got a perfect win record, but it’s a 3-0 so it could just be beginner’s luck.”
Edgeworth made a noise that was somewhere between choking on air and a stunned laugh. “Pardon me, Ms. Romanoff, I believe I misheard you just then.” He loosened the cravat around his neck, chuckling weakly. “I thought I heard you say Phoenix Wright is going to be defending Sergeant Barnes.”
“No, that’s what I said.” Natasha shot Tony a what’s with this guy? look, then pulled something up on her tablet. “Phoenix Wright, defense attorney, graduated from Ivy University. Most recent case was State v. Powers. Apparently Steve tracked him down and somehow convinced Barnes to let him help.”
“I see.” Edgeworth’s eye twitched, and Tony could almost hear the glassy sound of a person’s faith in the universe shattering as he stood up. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
The door clicked shut, then did a hilariously bad job of muffling the scream of frustration that rang out on the other side of it.
“Well,” said Tony, after a few moments passed without Edgeworth coming back into the room. “That doesn’t feel like a bad sign at all.”