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Bucky was in a haze. The heavy artillery that fired mixed with gunshots all round them covered any other noise that might’ve slipped in the night. Bucky’s squad was moving to intercept the Nazi’s movement towards the South of Belgium. The situation in Europe was bad enough by now. The area would suffer greatly from everything happening around it. Europe was a heavy war zone; their drop-off had almost killed half of the 107th. Bucky and five others had joined the 104th until they’d find their squad- if there was anyone left even.
“I ain’t letting no Nazi takeover this world,” a large sized man muttered next to Bucky. He was lucky to even hear the man. Everything around them was exploding and firing. It was luck that no-one had shot their own yet.
Smirking Bucky told him, “if we’re lucky the Belgium ladies will be thankful for our help.” The larger man grinned back at the Sergeant. A large explosion sounded to their left and all of them ducked when the next explosion came three feet away. Splinter from the trees flew and cut harshly on Bucky’s arm.
“Move, move, move!” someone yelled or so Bucky thought. He couldn’t hear anything past the ringing in his ears. The fight-or-flight response alongside with adrenaline pumped Bucky to run the hell away from the line of fire. The next bomb exploded behind him and he flew stomach first into a tree. He groaned and tried to get up. The ringing got louder and louder until all Bucky saw was black.
He proceeded to pass out in the middle of an active war zone. Or he suspected that was why it suddenly got dark.
When he roused, it was much later (earlier?). The sky was made of smoke and pale blue, the sun was closer to mid-day than it should be. Bucky was being dragged. He couldn’t understand what the men were saying, but he could guess twice what language they were speaking. He had heard a few German words but be didn’t understand anything they were saying, except a name. Red Skull. Surprisingly they pronounced it in English. Bucky wasn’t sure if it was done to confuse him or what.
Bucky’s head lolled to the left and he saw the rest of the squad being dragged or left behind- he suspected they were dead. God, how glad was he that Stevie wasn’t here now?
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When he woke up again, it was cold and uncomfortable. The cot he was laying on was metal and the cell was made of concrete. Bucky’s cell was small. He could just about touch the other wall if he stood in the middle and spread his arms. There was nothing in the room that Bucky could use to his advantage. He’d been stripped free of any and all weapons and food rations. He guessed he was lucky for even having the clothes he currently wore.
Bucky rose from the bed, moving towards the cell door. From in between the bars he could see a long hallway, but no other cells. If you didn’t count the cage that resided in front of him. He suspected it might contain a guard dog, but he couldn’t hear breathing. Dogs usually breathed audibly when they slept. Whoever had captured him and his team, apparently didn’t care enough about him to even put guards or they believed they were on top of the situation.
Bucky rattled the bars, hoping they’d make a sound and let him know what was in the cage. The bars however didn’t make a sound. They weren’t loose at all, which was unusual in a building that looked this old. The concrete walls were filled with cracks and loose patches of paint. Grey dotted areas in the upper corners, suspiciously looking like something moldy.
Despite nothing causing a loud sound, a small human hand wrapped around the cage door. Bucky’s breath left him. Was there a goddamn child in there? “Are you alright?” he asked the person in the cage with a gentle, low voice. The hand disappeared. Bucky almost let out a sigh of disappointment until a small face appeared in the hands place, peering up at the man.
The child was utterly gorgeous. His eyes were a brilliant brown, the small button nose nicely enhancing the innocent look. His cheeks were slightly hollowed, as if the boy had not been eating enough. His dark brown and curly hair reached his ears. If the strands were straight, they’d probably had been around his chin. Bucky had never seen a child so beautiful and innocent, yet so badly hurt. There was a dark bruise on his chin and a cut on the small hand the child once again wrapped against the tiny bars.
Bucky felt a sense of protectiveness towards the child. No one should do this to anyone, let alone a kid. The cage couldn’t be much larger than the child, based on his position. “Are you alright?” Bucky tried again.
The child stared at him blankly, like he couldn’t understand him. Bucky thought that maybe the boy didn’t know English, considering he looked barely three. The boy lifted his index finger to his lips in a silencing gesture. Bucky snapped his mouth tightly shut and listened out for steps. When he couldn’t hear any he turned his eyes back to the kid, only to find a man standing next to the cage. Bucky jerked back further into his cell. The dark-haired man eyed him, before scooping down and whispering to the boy in the cage. Bucky couldn’t pick up any of the words, but the man took a key out of his pocket and opened the cage door. He reached inside to take the boy, before wrenching back with a cry.
“He burnt me!” the man cried out clutching his gloved hand, his index finger open and black. With a roar the man wrenched the child out of the cage and threw him in front of Bucky’s cell door. “You ungrateful bastard!”
The man walked to the child and slipped a collar on him, tugging on the rope so he’d stand. Bucky, still sitting on the floor from shock, cried out, “you can’t do that to a child!”
“Oh, but I have already done it, Sergeant.” The man sneered at him, “I own this brat. I can do whatever I want to it.”
“Who the hell are you?” Bucky growled out. He stood up and wished to punch the man’s face in. He probably would have if not for the bars separating them. The man smirked, and Bucky couldn’t help the irritation that arose. It certainly showed on his face, seeing as the man smirked more widely and more menacingly. The expression seemed more dangerous and creepier on him than it ever could on anyone else. The crazy flash in his eyes certainly didn’t help his case.
“I am a god,” the man spread is arms in a showing off gesture. “I have risen above humanity. And I deserve to rule it.” Bucky was in disbelief, was this why he believed he owned the child and could do whatever he wanted to? Because he was deranged?
“The hell you are,” Bucky came closer. “Let us go now.”
“Or what? Sergeant, you are far behind enemy lines. No one is coming for you.” The ‘god’ waved his hand dismissingly and tightened his grip on the leash. “Come now, pet.” The little boy glared at the man, and Bucky felt a shiver go down his spine at the hate and promise of death the kids eyes held. No child should feel like that. Bucky could feel the painful tug the man gave on the leash.
“Leave him be!” Bucky yelled after them, but neither turned back, though the boys shoulder rose a bit.
Hours later, two men came for Bucky and dragged him with a bag on his head. He was strapped to a cold metal table, where he was left for what felt like hours. Eventually he felt a needle stick to his arm and felt a burning sensation begin. Remembering the technique taught at boot camp in torture scenarios, Bucky started to list off his name, rank and serial number in hopes of taking his thoughts away from it.
When the burning finally stopped, Bucky wasn’t sure had it been days, weeks or just a few hours. He hoped it wasn’t very long. He startled when a small hand slipped into his. Tiredly, he turned his head towards the owner of the hand. His hopes and fears were confirmed. The small boy was holding his hand. “What are you doing here?”
“They hurt you,” the boy whispered, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Changed you. I can smell it.”
“Smell it...?” Bucky sighed, stopping as he realized that wasn’t the weirdest thing during his time here. “Do you have a name? I’ve been calling you ‘boy’ in my head.”
“Antonio,” the boy whispered. “You’re James Buchanan Barnes. You kept repeating it and numbers. Were they a code?”
“Just James is fine. And the numbers were a serial number, my soldier number. In the army they teach you what to do when you’re being tortured. Doesn’t do much but it reminds you of who you are.” Bucky told Antonio. “But you’re not exactly normal, are you?”
“No,” the boy admitted, his shy smiled on the edge of wicked. “I am not human.”
Bucky peered at Antonio closer. He hadn’t noticed before, but he could see the new cut on his forehead stitching itself together. And the boy’s eyes weren’t exactly normal either, gold mixed with red kept barely showing up. Like the true color was being suppressed down. “No, you are not.” Bucky admitted softly, transfixed by these details he only now was noticing, like his eyesight had gotten better.
Antonio smiled at him, “they changed you. Your eyesight, your healing, strength. It’s all so much better. You’ve evolved from human, too.”
Bucky blinked rapidly. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” Antonio tilted his small head and Bucky couldn’t help but try and follow the movement. At the movement the boy’s eyes widened delightedly. Antonio whispered adoringly, “you’re my mate.”
“Your what?” Bucky almost yelled in surprise. Antonio shrunk back. “I’m sorry. It’s- you surprised me, that’s all. Tell me about it?”
“Mates. Destined to be together. We form the strongest bond of those that we make. As you’d call it relationships.” Antonio grinned, his small hand touching Bucky’s shoulder. “I never in my years of living thought I’d find this. Especially with a human.”
“So, what do we call you?” Bucky softly asked.
“I think I heard the leader say I was a ‘phönix’. In your language it is ‘phoenix’.” Antonio smirked at the amazement that surely showed on Bucky’s face.
“How long have you lived?”
“So long. Somewhere along the time of Egypt’s triumph. Egyptians were very smart with the use of magic.” Antonio smiled wistfully, his small hand smoothed down Bucky’s cheek. “I am reborn after I die. It might take centuries or just a few decades.”
“When was the last time you died? The year?” Bucky asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He completely forgot where he was, only able to focus on Antonio.
“Hm… I believe it was mid-18th century.” Antonio’s face turned thoughtful. “I believe I knew George Washington. My memory gets foggy after each rebirth. The longer apart the less I remember. I don’t remember the lives before that one.”
“You-You knew George Washington?” Bucky sputtered. “He’s one of the most important figures in American history!”
“Yes, I suppose he would be. He fought greatly in the war for your freedom.” Surprisingly for Bucky, Antonio really does sound like he is older than 50, rather than the three he looks to be.
“So, you were born again recently?” Bucky curiously asked, the million questions showing behind his eyes.
“Mm, yes. About twelve years ago.”
“Twelve years? But you look like you’re three!” Bucky cried out in surprise. His disbelief colored the tone of his voice. Antonio shrunk back a little.
“I age slower than a normal human. About a fourth slower. If a normal human lived to fifty, I would live undisturbed around two hundred years.” Antonio shrugged his small shoulders, his smile very small.
“That’s amazing.” Bucky breathed out, his words bringing a delighted smile on Antonio’s face.
That’s when it all fell apart.
When Steve found Bucky, he was bailing his eyes out. He was crawling on the floor, his hands full of Antonio’s ashes. The searing pain that filled his entire being was excoriating. He swore he could feel the way the boy had turned up in flames as the dark-haired man bashed the kids skull in, long after stabbing Antonio in the stomach. The screams, oh God, the screams were the worst part. After the man was done with Antonio, he had harshly told Bucky that he could leave no evidence of what he was working on. And if he couldn’t have the phoenix, no one could.
After now-very-large-and-muscular-Steve had forced Bucky to leave the exploding facility, it had finally clicked that partially this was Steve’s fault. He didn’t want to blame his best friend, but Steve was the nearest target that had been apart of causing the death of the boy who’d been made of fire and beauty.
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74 years later
When Captain Ameri- Steve alongside a terribly annoying black man had shown up in the Hydra base he was held at, Bucky wasn’t sure what to think of it. The blond assured him that they were childhood best friends and that he’d be alright and how Tony was going to be happy to host them all. It wasn’t until he saw Tony and realized who he was, was Bucky sure everything was going to be alright. The beautiful phoenix boy in the cage had grown to a gorgeous man who basically ruled the world.
“I’m sorry it took me so long, doll,” Bucky whispered to Tony’s ear as they lay on the large bed, holding each other tightly a week after Bucky’s return home.
“It was only forty years I had to live without you. It’s nothing compared to what was already behind me.” Tony kissed the top of the ex-assassins head, one hand playing with his hair, the other wrapped tightly around his shoulders.
“You definitely made do with the time.” Bucky smile was a fragile thing. He hopes Tony hadn’t forgotten him in the 40 years they were apart.
“You’re the only one for me, darling.” Tony promised as he tightened his hold on his mate. They’d have forever now, it seemed, and nothing could destroy that forever. They’d be together till the end of time.