The video had been filmed by a drone, from a top-down angle. The image shook slightly, but it was clear enough.
On a street in Brooklyn, the sun was bright, and the trees were budding in April.
A figure in red-and-gold armor descended from the sky and landed in front of someone else.
That person turned around with a cup of coffee in hand. It was Bucky.
Steve's breathing stopped for a beat.
He watched Bucky look up. He watched his lips move, watched his expression shift from calm to alert, watched him shove away "Tony's" arm.
Then an energy blast shot out and shattered the café's windows.
Steve could not hear what Bucky was saying. He turned his phone volume all the way up, and amid the noisy wind, Bucky's voice came through in broken fragments.
Tony Stark smiled on the screen. Steve knew that smile far too well. It was the smile Tony wore at press conferences when facing hostile reporters—arrogant, sharp, impeccable.
But Bucky seemed to say something. That smile froze for an instant, then the faceplate closed, and the fight began.
The footage that followed made Steve's entire body go cold.
He watched Bucky fling a motorcycle. He watched miniature missiles blow it apart. He watched Bucky charge forward and punch the armor in the chest.
He watched Tony seize Bucky's wrist. He watched Bucky draw a Vibranium dagger and stab toward the gap at the armor's neck.
He watched the two of them shoot into the sky and vanish beyond the frame.
Then the camera angle changed. The drone seemed to adjust its position, and the image locked on again.
An alley in Brooklyn.
Tony stood at the entrance, while Bucky, covered in blood, leaned against the wall.
His left leg was trembling. His Vibranium