Chapter Text
"Everyone clear?" I asked through the comms.
"Well..." There was an audible crack and a dull thud "....now I am."
"You just killed this guy on comms? Natasha, really?" Clint mocked.
"Well this way one can tell that I actually do what I'm supposed to. There's no telling with you." I was glad my whole team was okay, but something missed.
"You sure. I'd say the arrows sticking out of thei-"
"Bucky? Buck? You there?" I cut Clint off.
There was no reply for a few seconds and I grew restless.
"James?" Natasha asked again.
"Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. I'm here. I just got a situation, here." Bucky finally answered.
"Do you need backup?"
"Well, there's no fight really. I found a prisoner. And if I'd have to guess that's Tony Stark under those bruises."
"Are you positive?" widow inquired.
"Well, no? How about you get your lazy asses down here and confirm?"
"Where are you?"
"Basement third room down the floor."
"Everybody else good?" I asked while running down the steps.
"Yeah, those motherfuckers are too easy to kill." Don't say it, Steve. You know they'll mock you.
"Clint, we're a mob enforcement team. Not some goddamn 60ies cliché gangsta flick, for fuck's sake." Bucky scolded.
"Language." I slipped. I heard quiet laughter.
"Awww, Stevie. You know we are a mob enforcement team. Hell, you are a mob boss. How can you still be so... polite?"
"Stop, mocking him James. I know your mama raised you better than that."
"I will mock my boyfriend as much as I want, widow. He loves me anyways."
"Guys." I sighed. "I'm in the basement now." Bucky stepped into the hallway just as I took the last step.
"Well, baby get that sweet ass of yours over here." He flirted.
"I think I just threw up a little." Clint commented.
"How about you love birds check on our new found captive, before celebrating an easy win?" Bruce joined in. Sure enough that was a little embarrassing.
"Sure. But I can already tell, we will need you're expertise. He's pretty bruised." Bucky told him.
"Well, that's one way to put it." The man - or rather kid - inside was young. As in not yet legal. Bruises littered his half naked body. He was chained to the wall only wearing short sweatpants and bandages across his chest sitting on the cold hard ground.
"I'm coming in."
"Stay where you are we'll bring him up."
"Is he conscious?"
"I don't think so. But for all I know he's playing dead so we leave him here." I said. The kid couldn't suppress the barely noticeable flinch, although I could tell he was trying to keep still.
"Yep, he's conscious." Bucky confirmed.
At that the kid raised his head. Well not raised. He knocked it back into the wall behind him with a dull thump and an annoyed groan. Bucky raised an amused eyebrow. "And coherent. What, exactly was your plan there, kid? Us leaving so you could starve to death?"
"That'd be one option. Or you know. Could have freed myself and not starved." He answered with still closed eyes. There were tear tracks on his face, clearing lines through blood and dirt. I didn't know if he was brave or dumb, taunting a possible threat, not even looking at us.
"Freed yourself how, babycheeks? You hoped those chains will take pity on you and spring open?" He stepped towards the boy, but stopped as he froze, previously relaxed shoulders locking up in fear. Torture and abuse would do that to a person.
"Give us a name?" Brilliant expressive honey-coloured eyes snapped towards me, holding sharp intellect.
"What need one for my headstone?"
"I was thinking polite conversation but sure we can make it your funeral." Bucky was getting annoyed. Something in those golden eyes switched. They were less bright, but his face relaxed with the threat - no promise - of certain death. A quick death.
"You are covered in blood. Had a lot of polite conversations lately, huh?" The kid snarked.
"Well, you're covered in bruises. How did your conversations go?" Came a pissed retort. "James." I pressed. And Bucky composed himself.
"You two are a thing or what? You his lapdog, handsome?" Wow. That was quite the skill the kid had. Making people angry.
"Are you trying to make us kill you?" I asked. He blinked. There was a shimmer of uncertainty in his eyes making him look even younger.
"Well, you're gonna kill me anyway. Might as well have fun while it lasts."
"Nup, not gonna kill you. Even if I want to." My boyfriend grumbled. The kid pouted.
"Aw. No need to feel bad about it, cupcake. I'd prefer it to whatever you have planned. And it would make things easier on all of us. I'm not gonna give you anything. You're wasting your time with me. You can just leave me here and pneumonia will take care of me." The lighthearted tone of his sent a chill down my spine.
"Not on my watch." I replied sharply. Buck took it as a clue to free him of his chains. As he got closer to him, the kids eyes grew wide with fear and excitement? Just to grow even wider in awe as James snapped his shackles clear in half. James held a hand in front of his face. "Come on up, doll." The boy stared suspiciously at his hand until he shyly reached for it. Bucky pulled him up gently, mindful of his injuries, but it did no good either way. As soon as he put weight on his leg he cried out in pain and fell back only to groan again. Buck immediately crouched down next to him.
"Ankle or leg?"
"Both?"
"Alright no walking around." He said and reached under his knees and behind his back, standing with him up in his arms.
The kid whimpered a little but we needed to get him out of here.
"Bruce we are coming up, now. He can't walk." I informed our on demand physician.
"Can't walk as in nerve damage, or broken bones?"
"Bones. His pupils are uneven I think he's concussed."
"You telling us your name now?"
"Anthony."
"So you are Tony Stark?" There was a humorless laugh.
"Yeah. Stark. Haven't heard that name in a while. Got a name for me too, goldilocks? Since I already know James over here." He closed his eyes. Too tired or too pained to keep them open.
"Steven."
"James and Steven. That is actually pretty boring. Considering you just killed terrorists." There was a slight slurr to the kids voice.
"You could always call us Winter Soldier and Captain. That are our titles after all." Bucky answered as we made our way to the quinjet.
"Winter Soldier? As in Avengers as in the Howling Commandos?" Buck sent an surprised gaze towards me but I just shrugged. Even with his eyes closed he could tell our stunned silence.
"Don't be so surprised. I used to hack your databases." Was he serious?
"Yeah."
"Wow. My parents die, I get kidnapped by terrorists, just to be saved by the New York Mafia. This is officially the most fucked up year of my entire life."
"Hey, now don't get ahead of yourself. You're what? 19?" Bucky grinned.
"Don't know actually. What year is it?" His voice got more quiet.
"December 4, 2017."
"Well I'm 20 then. Lost a birthday party somewh-" When I turned to look at him, Tony was fast asleep.
"20, huh? He doesn't look it."
"No he doesn't." He really didn't, I thought as we stepped into the plane