Chapter Text
It was dark. A thick, barbed wire fence stretched for miles, separating the dull beige buildings from the rest of the frost laden land. Except for the mediocre security and black numbers painted on the side of each building, they were unmarked. It was well past midnight and no one was in the lab now. Occasionally the low hum of machinery whirred, and pipes let out a creak. Each time, he paused. Listening, just in case, hand gripping the knife in his holster as his other clenched around a leather briefcase.
He preferred silent methods of disposal. Guns were much too loud when the objective was to get in and out as silently as possible. Two more turns and he finally reached the room he was looking for- the door was unmarked but the biohazard signs, three layers of reinforced steel and frigid cold gave it away. The locks were no match for his vibranium arm. Two minutes, until the alarms would trip. That was the drawback of these kinds of security setups. The cold was necessary for the equipment, but it slowed down the alarms. And people, if there had been any.
A glass case- pools of black liquid suspended and gurgling in it, backed by blinding lights. As practiced, he hit the emergency stop button. Sliding what looked like a large thermos out of his bag, he screwed the opening of the vacuum container to the valve on the side of the case, and within seconds had the substance tucked back into his briefcase. Payload now secure, he walked faster, senses still dialed up.
The unmistakable click of high heels on the ground made him freeze. He reached for his knife, but - a shot sounded and he reeled from the explosion and....darkness.
Bucky awoke with a start, gasping for air as he gripped his blanket closer to his chest. Sweat poured from his brow and he forced himself to take long deep breaths, focusing on filling his belly with the cold night air before forcing it all out, just as his therapist had taught him.
It had been awhile since he had a nightmare. But this one felt more like a memory. It was difficult to tell them apart sometimes. There was always violence. Often death. Usually not his own. The ones where he died- those were nightmares for sure. But the ones where he did the killing? He didn't have the security clearance to confirm whether the events were real.
He reached for the small notebook on his bedside, turning on the lamp as he scrawled some details into it.
Dark, office building. Stealing a lava lamp (?). Briefcase.
Bucky furrowed his brow, heart still racing in his chest as he tried to make sense of it.
Underneath, he underlined the word: DREAM?
Exhausted now from the excitement, but still hopped up on adrenaline, he willed himself to go back to sleep.
The next morning he was much worse for wear. He still woke up at dawn no matter how late he slept- no alarm needed. Bucky dragged himself out of bed and into the shared kitchen, where the smell of coffee filled his nostrils. Steve was already awake- of course, having come back from an early run.
"Morning," Steve smiled, pouring Bucky a cup. Bucky grunted in response, accepting the cup. The two went about their morning routines- Steve hitting the showers shortly after as Bucky put together some eggs and toast for the two of them. Steve was away more and more these days, now that Bucky had stabilized. It wasn't often that he saw his roommate anymore.
"Hey Buck," Steve said, between mouthfuls of toast. "Tony's hosting an opening in a few weeks."
"Right. The Isodeyne Memorial Park." Bucky nodded, shifting in his seat. He didn't know where this was going.
"I'm going- part of the job as a public figure and favor to him and all that. But I'd really appreciate it if you came with me."
"I don't know-"
"I know, I know. It's still only been 6 months. But I thought it would be a good chance to get out of the house. Meet people. It'll be high security and a tight guest list."
And controlled publicity, he thought. Not that it mattered too much to him what people said. He stayed off the internet. And no one who read his story would be brave enough to heckle him on the street.
"I meet people," he shrugged.
"Yori seems nice. I'm glad you're making friends. Maybe you can even bring them. You don't have to go, but if you want to be in a room full of people who already know who you are, get your feet wet... think about it."
"I will," he promised, staring down at his plate.
Satisfied, Steve smiled, taking a long languid sip of coffee. His hair was still fuzzy and wet from the shower. It was comfortable, the silence. It felt like before the war the two of them were always in a rush- Steve talking fast and getting into trouble. The looming threat of the war overseas. Trying to experience as much as possible when there was no telling what would happen next. Trying to grow up as fast as possible.
And now... now they had all the time in the world.
"Mister Stark, Isodeyne Labs and the surrounding park haven't been open in decades. What do you expect we'll find?"
"The truth. And maybe a racoon family or two."
"Do you think it's a good idea, considering your father never opened it again? Will the area be safe? Are there detectable levels of leftover radiation? Is it really the best idea to create a park and let children run around?"
Tony had to keep from rolling his eyes. Leaning over the table and popping a mint into his mouth, he flashed another smile at the interviewer. "Of course we'd make sure it was safe before letting anyone back in."
"Ah- We're at time. Unfortunately that's all the time we have left here today, but you can look forward to the opening of Isodeyne Memorial park next month."
There were a few more flashes of the cameras- Tony spun back and forth to make sure they got his good side. Then put on his sunglasses and sauntered out the door.
"How's the memorial coming along?" He asked, once he was back behind the safety of the tinted glass of his limo.
"Should be done in time for the unveiling. Got a guest list for the opening down too. Some big Hollywood stars, some up and comers. A good mix for the family."
"Security? It's for charity. We should be good with minimal. Save a buck or two, that'll make my accountant happy."