Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Somewhere through the night, heading back to their dingy basement apartment with their dates seemed like such a great idea. It was a crisp summer breeze in all directions, and the heady walk across a few blocks was not that tiring with all the free drinks Bucky’s uniform afforded them tonight. Even so, Steve didn’t want to risk another asthma attack just to impress a lady and loose out on the two dollar fifty worth of work he’d have tomorrow.

As they were nearing their humble neighborhood, Steve slowed to an even slower pace and took stock of his usual sights. Steve’s health rarely had an upside, but one thing it had afforded him was a peaceful gait that made him notice things like the aroma of Mrs. Potts baking cakes, the leaves that were caught up in a small gust of wind flowing across 32nd Street, and little Jimmy Junior kicking up a fuss about bedtime. It was not much, but it was home...their home. Everything Bucky was too busy to notice tonight it seemed, now that Steve’s very own date had cozied up to his other arm.

James was a couple of paces ahead as always, the envy of every shadow he passed with a dame on each side tonight. Those poor girls, Steve sighed thinking of how they would be caught up in the elaborate ruse that was his charm and demeanor. But on some level they understood what they were getting into he guessed. And just on cue, Bucky excused himself from their little conversation to look back.

“You coming punk?” Bucky jeered. standing just above the stone steps down to their humble abode. Like he didn’t know exactly why Steve walked slow, or why he walked at a distance.

“Slow down ya big jerk..what’s the hurry, just enjoy the scenery..” Steve said.

“No I’m good..” Bucky said, as Steve got closer winking at his actual date.

-----------------------

A regular convening of the Bucky Rogers fan club on all counts as people would say, with Steve (founder and honorary member) alongside his date for the night, Alice (Alicia, Amy...something with an A for sure) and Betsy (Betty, Berty..something). The radio was playing as loud as it could go now and this shindig was in full swing now with everybody’s best dance moves. Betsy (Betty, Berty..something), Bucky’s actual date had managed to sweet talk her way into half a bottle of something nasty which she had shared with Bucky and Alice (Alicia, Amy...something with an A for sure), a girl of his stature who was in the throes of somthing theatrical for sure.

Alice had wisend up and moved on to making the most of her night with whatever attention Bucky could throw at her. It’s not that Steve didn’t find her swell… perhaps, he was not in the mood he thought, today. Of all the girls Bucky had managed to win over to be Steve’s date though, she’d actually been the first in a while to even bother to maintain a conversation with him; politeness or genuine, Steve was not sure (Steve was not sure he cared either). After the first half hour, Steve found his perch for the night on the derelict loveseat in their house and watched as the one and a half whisky shots he had wear off, and watch whatever Bertha (Beebe, Beatrice..something) had given everyone else take it’s toll.

As Steve’s senses were just about done working for the night, both girls were in some form of recline near the loveseat itself. He got up and covered them both with his coat, and James’ where necessary.

“Buck...time for bed” Steve said reaching for the figure that was all eyes close and flowing limbs to whatever song that played. He was reaching to reduce the volume and in turn flip the switch to the Radio when, the song changed to

“Oh Steve!! it’s our song!!” Bucky Exclaimed. Much to Steve’s displeasure. They were already at the part that Ella Fitzgereld was singing:

“Men are not a new sensation, I've done pretty well I think...”

and before he knew it, tired him was already in Bucky’s hands, him almost unaware in the force which he was holding steve now.

“okay okay” Steve relented, letting him be led, as Bucky’s hand slipped to his back.

“But this half-pint imitation, Put me on the blink!!!!” Bucky screamed, and giggled.

“HEY!” Steve nudged him in the shin, making bucky focus on Steve.

“I'm wild again, beguiled again

A simpering, whimpering child again

Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I”

Bucky slow danced him for a few more lines, and Steve’s not sure what it was. He leant in, Buck’s forever warm chest a comfort that made him close his eyes. But they should be in bed, he had work..

“Buck.. sleep” he felt he mumbled, just as Ella reached:

“Couldn't sleep and wouldn't sleep

When love came and told me, I shouldn't sleep

Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I

Lost my heart, but what of it

He is cold I agree

He can laugh, but I love it

Although the laugh's on me

I'll sing to him, each spring to him

And long, for the day when I'll cling to him

Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I” making Steve just roll his eyes as Bucky fell more off tune with his terribly loud singing and he was pretty sure their neighbors would kick up a fuss, war hero or not. Steve refused to admit he enjoyed this a bit ironically.

“Buck…” Steve looked up at… and there it was. That look. The way his eyes would gloss, and on cue how the happiness would pour over his face when he looked at Steve. Steve didn’t even feel Bucky’s hands slip from Steve’s hips till they reached around his face, pulling him close until their noses touched….making something frightening fill his stomach.

“St..” was all he heard as Bucky’s rosy, chapped lips touched his for the first time as they stood there, song forgotten, kissed, for the first time. Heady and drunk, Steve was not sure what… as his hands instinctly wrapped around Bucky and closed his eyes, trying not to think about it too much.

Even though he knew he’d never forget where it all began.

Love's the same old sad sensation
Lately I've not slept a wink
Since this half-pint imitation
Put me on the blink

I've sinned a lot, I'm mean a lot
But I'm like sweet seventeen a lot
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I

I'll sing to him, each spring to him
And worship the trousers that cling to him
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I

When he talks, he is seeking
Words to get, off his chest
Horizontally speaking, he's at his very best

Vexed again, perplexed again
Thank God, I can be oversexed again
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I

Wise at last, my eyes at last,
Are cutting you down to your size at last
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - no more

Chapter Text

“I had him on the ropes.” He heard Bucky say as he kept clear view of the entrance in to the next segment of this odd looking freight train.

“I know you did...” yes, of course Bucky could, but he rather not allow him to take his chances. A fist fight in a Brooklyn back alley was leagues beyond fighting these Blue energy powered Nazis Zola helped create. Speaking of Zola... he was ahead, and with Zola in custody, maybe this war would be a few steps closer to ending, and all the brave men fighting this war could be heading home. It was almost too easy.

 ’but sometimes the good guys can catch a break’...maybe? Steve thought taking a step forward. And without a second to waste, he heard the approaching mechanical noises from behind. He should’ve been paying more attention to what his sense of hearing was trying to tell him.

“Get down!” Steve shouts, raising his shield just in the nick of time. It’s barely a split second, but he prays with all his heart this will not be the one that takes Bucky out of his life.

Funny thing about prayers like that...sometimes, you say them right when you need to.

He lit up two cigarettes and pulled on them till it burned to the butt. He wasn’t a fan of cigarettes when he was pre-serum. They already had bad rep for making his asthma worse. But he’d learnt how Tony smoked for the stress release, leaning against a post at the Avengers rooftop; much like his Father did when he needed to think a little extra. He’d heard it helped, from both. Tony wasn’t a fan of knowing he mirrored his father.

‘This generation...’ so much was different.

He’d woken up again, barely minutes into the dream. He’d done his fair share of being trapped in the nightmare that was Bucky’s death. He’d have a brief on a new mission in a couple of hours, a 20 minute nap before dawn should do him enough rest, but to get there was going to take effort; two and a half bottles of Blue label worth of effort. But whilst reaching for the first bottle he’d have to gulp down in a matter of seconds, he didn’t want to cause anyone to be as concerned as they were after they noticed how the bottles kept stacking up. He grabbed one of the packs of Menthols Stark had hidden behind the bottle of some weird looking liquor that had a snake and a scorpion...

‘This generation...’ so much was weird.

‘something to take off the edge’ he said, as he tossed the third pair of butts into the billowing wind. He was starting to feel the nicotine reach his brain cells. There was nothing he could to do hurt his lungs permanently when he was post-serum, but he should definitely use some mouth wash before stepping out for his run. God forbid Captain America be smelling like he had a smoke or two packs.

He fell back on the shield as he lit up another two Cigarettes. he’d brought it out with him, as he let his legs dangle off the little runway.

The one good thing about Vibranium is it absorbs and blocks almost any projectile weapon, but sometimes being on the receiving ends of a .45 bullet alone kind of gives you a little shove backwards if you’re not paying attention to the angle it’s coming at you. But it was his shield...Bucky couldn’t have known that, neither did it ever need to come up in conversation. Bucky had no way of knowing that...maybe he should’ve focussed on teaching Bucky how to use his shield.

It was his preferred weapon, ‘figures...’ Bucky had said with a crooked grin, when he’d seen him bring it on their first mission together with the commandos. “Pretty sure it wasn’t designed to be a weapon Steve-o”. He’d said.

Maybe he should’ve listened. Maybe if he didn’t angle his shield the Energy blast would’ve rebounded on the armoured solider instead of throwing him in the opposite direction of where he deflected it. Maybe if he’d had a second or two to grab hold of the shield a little tighter he could’ve held on to the shield and fallen with it; maybe the stinkin’ Nazi would’ve focussed on blowing him to smithereens instead of a defenceless Bucky; maybe Bucky wouldn’t have a chance with the Pistol he’d handed to him moments before.

Fat lot of good the Super Solider Serum did him when he wasn’t knocked out, but still disoriented by taking on a blast at that range. But thank God for Super Solider Serum benefit No. 3, complete memory recall; He’d never be able to forget the moments his Bucky was taken from him, not unless they had invented a machine to reach into him and take it out.

Just thinking about that moment he remembered seeing Bucky being thrown out of the train constricts his chest, and fills his stomach with the feeling that someone hollowed him out and left that one memory for extra effect. He scrambled to his legs reaching for his stupid Shield all the while thinking ‘God, I just got him back. I just...’

He reached for the shield that was under his head, its red white and blue paint constantly repairing itself from its wear and tear thanks to tiny robotic machines (Stark Industries patent pending). This was the shield that now protected America... his beloved country. He was its embodiment as much as it was him.

Yet...

“Bucky! Hang on.” His mind had been a mess of so many different thoughts, scenarios, possibilities and... “Grab my hand a..”.

“NOO!”

...he couldn’t save his...beloved.

He’d never forget the despair in Bucky’s voice. The despair that made him relive these memories over and over as he was trapped in ice for over 65 god damn years! He’d never forget how he became everything that could protect Bucky, but failed to do so. Couldn’t even find his body even if he wanted to... couldn’t lay it to rest and hope one day to be laid to rest right with him.

He felt his vision blur, and he’d drown in his own tears if he could. He sat up and instinctually wrapped his arms around himself wanting to breathe again, knowing full well he could. Felt like an asthma attack, but really it was just a panic attack. He’d like to sob as loud as he needed to, but he couldn’t let anyone see all that America idealized in him be for nothing.

But sometimes, he wished there was a day he could just be Steve Rogers and mourn. He wishes there was a tribunal that could condemn him to hell for taking his only friend that mattered from this world.

But there was only one super soldier left, from the army America tried to create to protect it self. And he was a man who kept his promises.

He gave himself till dawn... then he needed to be Captain America again.

For now, he couldn’t look at his shield. Or be one until then.

He turned towards the city that had been his and Buck's home. A lot has changed, turning it into a city of lights that never went off. But in his teary eyes, he can see the place where he had his first slice of pizza, the boardwalk where Bucky would like to walk on.... and even the Cyclone he can never puke on again.

What he wouldn't give for one more day with Bucky...

Chapter Text

He’d paced the floor, He’d run up and down the different corridors leading up to the ominous door that he wasn’t allowed in through, he’d meddled with his phone till the battery(life?) of it had run out. He’d finally settled on the floor in front of the door. And before he knew it, he found his hand on his chest, gently rubbing it over his slightly singed, slightly ripped sports jacket and t-shirt.

He smiled, knowing how this annoying tell/habit of calming himself down came from.

Some nights in the orphanage, he’d wake up a little out of breath on the most humid part of the summers in Brooklyn. Nothing too serious, nothing that makes him gets up out of bed immediately and head for an open window. Just something disturbing enough to wake him and make him want to shuffle around a bit in bed swearing at his asthma, nothing more. Most times he’d just angle himself towards the window or as directly as he could towards the ceiling fan in the room... Steve wondered as he waited for his breath to ease up and for sleep to catch him again if he’d ever be rid of his chronic disease. What life would be like to take a deep breath without constriction, or the need to cough violently.

But then there were those times Bucky was with him. Those times Bucky would just hear him rustle the bed a bit right next to him and instinctively reach around him and under his shirt and rub his chest or back, still asleep. And Steve would close his eyes comforted merely by the presence of Bucky and fall back asleep in seconds.

It was something he barely paid attention to. Bucky and him had a lot of tiny instinctual gestures that came from being Bucky and him. He’d notice it when people would mention it to him, how he’d rub his chest to calm himself down sometimes. He’d never given it any thought till one day Bucky tried to stop him from instigating a fight much like he did as a pre-serum scrawny orphan.

With his hand on his chest, he remembered how he’d found Bucky just hours ago.

-----------------

He’d woken up to a world where SHEILD was no longer a secret he had to keep; A world where HYDRA was also still a viable threat to the peace of his country. He’d had less to worry about compared to Fury, Clint and Natasha... but they were his friends and they needed him. He tried his best to be supportive and support their ongoing investigations...But he couldn’t...

No matter how hard he tried not to, he couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. He was pretty sure his restless nights drove him to hallucinations of the 5.10” assassin whom days before had almost completed his mission of killing him. First all over New York. Then wherever he was required... like a shadow he couldn’t ... keep track of, he’d wander off course looking for what he was sure was James Buchanan Barnes. The brother he’d never had a chance of protecting, who died protecting him and this stupid country that has now turned on them.

The Winter Soldier, Natasha and Sam had reminded him profusely.

But Bucky...his Bucky was still in there. He doesn’t know what they’ve done to him to make him forget who he was. But he was going to find him, and fix this...even if it took the rest of his lifetime to do so. And so began his search into the man, he doesn’t know if he’s now rescued or condemned.

-----------------

The Door in front of him was swinging open, and he was standing faster than he could humanly straighten his back.

Fury looks at him with more than a hint of annoyance “Capta..God damn it Steve there’s blood on the walls. I thought I told you to get.. ” Fury begins rolling his eyes. Steve was already healed, but there was... still concern for the blood that was now pressed against the pristine walls of this private (hidden) medical institution that was under SHEILD jurisdiction still.

“Sir, is he...” The amount of questions Steve had to get out of his mind and from his mouth was endless.

Fury sternly raised his hand to silence him.

“He’s thoroughly sedated and will be under the heaviest sedatives available to us and his metabolic rate. He will then undergo a medical eval and once he is medically stable he will be moved to the most secure location we can hold him in...as far as the plan goes” Fury says, livid and living up to his name in all measures decides to continue.

“Due to your inconsiderate, not to mention dumbass way of handling this situation, it is only a matter of time he becomes an asset of the state and not my jurisdiction. So you better pray to God this one flies under the radar as long as it can before we figure out what next to do”

Steve has no excuses, no witty remarks like Stark, neither does he have the time for pretences.

“Look, it wasn’t like I went in there saying let me blow up a factory. Is he... what’s going...I WANT TO SEE HIM GODDAMNIT!” Steve manages to come to his senses that there is nothing standing in the way of getting into that room... he sidesteps Fury and.

He’s..not sure exactly how it happens. He feels a pin prick on his neck as his hand reaches the door, before he’s on the floor and his eyes close without his permission.

--------

It had been a couple of sleepless nights, and from one web of conspiracy to another... He’d found his way into some information about Hydra’s modus operandi in D.C, he was looking for safe houses, leads to the whereabouts of the Winter Soldier. He’d alerted Hill after he’d finished with a second level operative or a lead that wasn’t a dead end. He was looking for something that lead to Bucky, not what he came across in the first national bank downtown, thanks to the help of Brock Thurlow’s semi unconscious pride filled blabbering.

It seemed like a much more solid lead than he’d hoped. Something was definitely odd about the place. He would’ve preferred back up, but he worked his way in with a few minutes to spare, and found himself being led to a vault....that held so much more than money.

He wished it held money.

He’d opened its massive vault and found a small army of scientists. And something about that room filled him with dread. He should’ve understood the screams that it held with its ominous shadows.

He found where they had kept him, permanently; And how they had kept him. How they had secured him.

He’d...it was the first time. He’d... not wanted to call anyone.

Tony had come, tony had found him. He doesn’t even remember making the call. Tony had showed up and dragged him to Stark tower and helped him make sense of all the technological bits or storage somethings. Tony found him with his hand still holding onto the crushed neck of the one white coat that had any answers amidst the HYDRA vitriol.

He shouldn’t have goaded Steve, he shouldn’t have tested how far Steve would’ve gone. He wished he’d left one barely breathing body to give witness to what an Avenger was capable of. It was Captain America that had walked in, shield and all...but it was definitely Steve that killed every single one of them. If only they had just kept their mouths shut and gotten out when they had the chance instead of deciding to taunt him with what they were waiting to do to the Winter Soldier again. He was sure he would’ve let anyone of them leave in peace if they showed the slightest remorse. But he wasn’t sure he understood anything beyond what happend when they explained what they used the machine for, or why there were such vicious instruments laid out next to the most despicable medical table he’d seen.

Tony had come and found him in a pile of bodies and blood. And he’d wished he’d not been so swift with their deaths after he’d managed to get through the first two video recordings he’d found in their data banks. One thing he couldn’t blame HYDRA operations with were how thorough their data reports would be.

Steve had... Tony had... That first video. They should’ve expected no less

He hadn’t intended to pass out screaming and crying by the first video. He hadn’t intended to loose all capacity to read and understand Russian, as he read reports he wished he’d never had uncovered. He was afraid to sleep after the first few nights he woke up with terrible nightmares born from the horrific visuals HYDRA had kept of the capture, rehabilitation and ....training. He’d turned into a restless zombie who’d not be able to get the screams and sights out of his mind if left alone for long enough.

He’d puked on Starks’ pristine workshop floor and dry heaved till it zapped him of his ability to be a human. He’d once just tuned out of the audio recording and cried himself to sleep where he sat. The gradual, slow...cruel process of where they had stripped Bucky of everything that made him the man he loved, and created the weapon that could now be identified with the murders of over a hundred deaths and other wetwork carried out for all intents and purposes for HYDRA and its allies.

Tony wasn’t his most favourite person. But it takes a friend like Tony to physically hold you down from the violence you want to wreck on the world after seeing the ‘data’ they had compiled on the ‘research and testing’ they had carried out on Bucky. He’d cried to find a member of HYDRA right now no matter if it was a child. He’d rip them to shreads. He would not rest.

No wonder Bucky didn’t remember him.

He hoped to God Bucky didn’t remember him, because it seemed to come with a lot of other memories. Memories that included screaming his name out loud as they... Steve couldn’t decide what was worse; what punishment they had used to induce complete utter loyalty to his new masters. Steve wasn’t sure if he himself started to believe what Bucky’s interrogators were telling him about the only thing that was keeping him from giving in; or that Steve already had the seeds of disgust in himself about his inability to spare his only true weakness from all this grief.

He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t breathe knowing the first few years they interrogated him. They were looking for Steve. But when the official search for him ended, they continued the work Zola had begun when he’d interrogated him for the first time.

He remembered how Bucky visibly was shaken at the thought of capturing the man who’d inflicted so much damage to him. He should’ve been more forceful in ensuring he didn’t take part in this mission. Safe and sound at their rendezvous point, waiting for him.

He’d left tony to do what he wanted with the information. He didn’t ever want to see ‘the data’ again. He’d watched, read, listened, indexed, and committed to memory a list of names and faces so large, he didn’t have the capacity to keep track of what he ate or where he slept.

He didn’t want to see Bucky. He didn’t want to see his beautiful face, or his hands and remember how he’d received every scar on his body. Many people who’d become privy to his battle thanks to Stark –he understands he was only trying to help- only helped cement the idea this was all his fault.

All his bloody fault. If he’d just...jumped off that train with him. He was a super soldier. They would’ve fallen, and he could’ve just... He’d spent weeks running different scenarios, till a face came up on the news that just rang a bell as loud as a thousand.

He was too afraid to look for Bucky, but he could at least... there was a face that he’d exact revenge from. HYDRA... his old nemesis was still alive and by the looks of things, still doing very well. If two would step into the place of the one head it lost, he’d cut them all off with the patience of a super human meant to live as long as he does.

As he walked out of the Stark Tower, even if it was his last... he didn’t think he was worthy of a goodbye from anyone. He left his shield for Sam. He was a protector always. Steve had failed, and he was coming to the conclusion that Shields were worthless when they didn’t protect well enough.

-------

He woke up mid sentence.

“LET ME...”

“STEVE!!”

Natasha and Tony were trying to hold him down.

“Steve calm down...”

So is he in the hospital, where’s fury. Bucky, oh my God Bucky!

“Wh..” It took him a couple of seconds but he’s in a bed... he tries to wipe the sleep off, and maybe a little drool off.

“You are on your floor at Stark Towers. We brought you here.” Natasha soothes.

“Where’s Bucky” Steve asks, immediately as Alert as he’ll ever be. Tony seems to be dithering, Nat seems to be the one who will answer.

“...He’s still in SHEILD Custody. For now...”

“I need to go..” he says flipping the covers over the bed he’d been laid on and trying to stand. And pretty much falling back to the bed; something hurts his neck.

“What happend to me”.

“I shot you with my strongest dart...” Natasha says guiding him back down to the bed. “it would’ve put you in a coma if you were any other man. I was hoping you’d be out for at least a week, but I’ll settle for three days”.

Three.fucking.days. He takes a moment to take inventory of the situation if he’s been under for three days as he says that out loud. Tony’s quirky smile makes an appearance as it does whenever he swears.

“I need to...”

“What...be there when he wakes up? He’s not waking up anytime soon. Sit put and wait here and whilst you’re at it, eat something.” Natasha all but screams at him.

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” Steve Screams.

“..then make us understand big guy..” Tony adds. A soft note to his voice he hasn’t heard in awhile.

-----

He’d followed a hunch when a guy who’s face he’d seen on TV was unmistakably one of the many visiting ‘specialists’ HYDRA had invited or hired in to aid the conditioning of the Winter Soldier.

A doctor ‘Val Karofsky’ who was consulting on some research on a news channel for advancements in genetics and reparative therapies; therapies most likely now successful thanks to the many varied tests she conducted on Bucky’s intravenous feeding and supplements.

After a brief period of surveillance, he’d taken her unawares in the night and whispered menacingly in her ear the words required ‘Hail Hydra’. It was a stroke of genius to do it in the cover of night as he was one of the most notable faces of this century. He’d simply asked her to check in with her handlers, that they are expecting her calling on them. He didn’t expect her to lead him directly to a senator a few days later. But she did.

He’d given her the chance to escape... to get away from all of this unscathed. But she’d chosen her ‘research’ with the support of HYDRA was more valuable than her life, and it had cost her dearly when she’d called into report she might have made a serious error in leading Captain America here.

They’d shot her on sight.

He had no choice but to kill every single hired gun that stood in his way as he walked in, wiping each floor with an efficiency he’d not known he could achieve. He was going back on the promise he’d made Earskine that night, but he gave HYDRA a taste of its own brutality that night. The stupid fool had levelled a Tesseract powered gun at him, stuttering and shaking. He wasn’t even worth the effort of killing him, but the information that was on his person was good enough. A phone loaded with emails, messages and phone numbers.

He’d called in Hill again from the idiots phone and left ‘a present’ for Fury.

Within a week, he’d worked his way across the eastern seaboard. He’d followed the same principle Hercules had followed with the Hydra he had encountered. Two couldn’t take its place if the stump was burnt out. He’d hit the head, and then laid the bottom tiers under the leader to waste. He was past the point of caring about justice. His trail of vengeance was leading to the last head on a list he’d made on the way there.

The owner of one of America’s leading energy corporations apparently served as the head of Hydra. He was now two miles from one of its most secluded corporate properties; a factory that processed suspiciously large cargo needs; in short, what he guessed might be the weapons HYDRA had already been proficient at.

He’d worked his way through the guards, and the guarded areas straight to the man... but he didn’t expect the surprise that awaited him. Steve didn’t have a second to waste as he aimed a kill shot at the useless ‘head’ and went straight for the tail that he had now found.

He was shaking. He was breathing so heavy, he didn’t even notice anything but the cowering man in front of him. Still trying to establish a proud identity as the man who’d pretty much ‘ironed out the glitches’ that were in Bucky.

“Don’t do it Steve..”

He’d burned with fire and rage and vengeance day in and day out for as long as he can remember. And it took just him hearing his name with an inflection he’d never thought he’d hear again. He wasn’t on edge, he was the edge that would slit HYDRA open, like the golden sword. He was the fire that burned HYDRA. But here was his reason.. the ghost he’d hoped to rescue once the monster was dead.

The ghost that was alive and breathing. Parts of his armor replaced, his hair a bit longer than he last saw him, a beard he’d never thought he’d see again. But it was not who he was. He alone was not who he was anymore just from knowing what they did to Bucky. He felt his vision get blurry with tears he had thought he’d emptied. He was learning emotion and justice only got in the way of vengeance.

“If you’ve come to finish...” Steve started, clicking the safety off still focussed on the bald man who was the only one alive and responsible for Bucky’s condition now.

“Steve...don’t you dare ignore me now. It’s me Bucky...your Bucky..”

The inflection in his voice. The joy, the pain, the facial features, the tears.

This is a lie. He’s...

As Steve stares at him in disbelief, The joy of the moment that washes over the deadly assassin as he stretches his arms out towards Steve cannot be faked. Steve lowers his weapon still wondering if he’s dreaming.

It was barely a moment his weapon lowered, but Lukin used it well against him. All he heard was the most sinister laugh he’d heard in his life, followed by:

[Kreshcheniyemaroz!]

He shouted in Russian, and he watched in horror as Bucky froze and in the process of falling to the ground unconscious. Steve lunged forward on pure reflex, but he was too late.

Lukin had him in a death lock with his weapon dropped.

He looked back to where Bucky was, unable to even care of his current position. But Bucky was not on the floor anymore. He was standing up, and a deep fear filled Steve. There was no mistaking it. His shoulders squared, his face emotionless, and his eyes the deepest void Steve had ever noticed. 

“Petrushka, you’ve returned I see to your only friend again...me.”

“WHAT DID YOU...” Steve barely got the words out before he was knocked unconscious.

By Bucky.

-----

He comes to, feeling more tired than he’s felt ever. All around him is the hustle and bustle of a dismantling operation. He’s careful not to even open an eye. He’d spotted weapons of unusual calibre in production. He must stop it leaving this place.

“He’s awake”. That oh so familiar voice says; a stab to the heart, or whatever remains of it. Steve drops all pretence and takes a good look around immediately. Also noticing for the first time, he’d been anchored to a wall with chains. He’s not sure he wants to test their strength just yet, but looks manageable.

“I should’ve shot you when I had the chance Lukin”

“Ahh Kaptain Amerika... ever the resistance. I’m glad you didn’t, because you’ve managed to reunite me with my friend...” Steve can barely look at him when he said that. All this time. He was trying to protect him from his only true enemies. He thought, if they didn’t exist, Bucky would have nothing to worry about. And there he was, practically glowing from the touch of this vile man that had him tortured. Oblivious to his true...

“Luckily for you, I had other interest to sort out before I got to you.”

“[Petrushka, kill him slowly...]” he says in Russian. And out steps the robot with the clarity of his objective, the malice of the operation putting a smile on him, and his instructor.

Steve doesn’t know what he’s fighting for here. But Bucky... now Bucky will kill him. Not knowing.

“Bucky.. Bucky Stop...” He says with each step he takes towards him, tied against a wall.

“Bucky!! It’s me Steve. You remember me” he implores. He’s not sure he cares for his life, just that Bucky’s the one that will take it. He shouldn’t need to.

He reaches into his suit and pulls out a dagger and before another word could be said, Steve barely feels the blade slide through his chest, cutting away fabric and skin.

“Buck..it’s STEVE!!” And Steve secretly knows it’s his last few seconds.

“Buck..” he takes a shallow breath ready for the knife to take a slice in the opposite direction it came in before, higher, near his jugular.

Bucky... no the winter soldier puts his palm to his chest and, Steve takes one more breath.

...there was one heart beat that was too loud even for his throbbing senses.

“ss...Steve?”

The knife clatters to the floor.

“Steve...why..” and before anything could be said and done. Steve hoped to God he’d never have to hear that sound again. That is purely the reason he is here right now, with the blood of countless people on his hands. He hears Bucky scream as Raw as the times he’s heard it in the recordings. He falls to the floor clutching his head, writhing.

It was serendipity at that point, that led Steve to lean as far as he could towards Bucky wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and hold him close and wipe those tears away and calm him and cure his pain, someway.. somehow. As he leaned in completely focussed on Bucky, he completely missed how Lukin said something and pulled a gun and shot, missing Steve, but hitting one of the chains that held him down.

As one hand freed, he didn’t wait for Lukin not to miss again as he pulled the other chain with all his might and fell. He’d grabbed the knife that was the only weapon he had, and before he had time to think he threw it with the might that he needed to have to protect his friend. He didn’t need his shield for this work, but he missed it now.

He’d forgotten he was a shield all this time. He wanted to be Bucky’s shield now. But all he had was himself and a dagger. He put himself in front of the still agony stricken Bucky, and he was hoping to reach Lukin for a close combat fight, his strength, and less likely to be Lukin’s. But his instincts had gotten stronger than his judgement, and as Lukin decided to shoot again with the rest of his reinforcements that happen to barge in on their exchange, he had no choice.

He threw the dagger. Barely missing the heart he aimed for, and slicing right through an eye unfortunately that happend to be in the right place at the wrong time. Lukin was down.

There was a moment of silence before the henchmen around them understood where the chain of command now lay. But it was a moment too late. Lukin had fallen on some sort of self destruct mechanism he later learned. He’d just thought the Avengers had shown.

Steve had no choice but to grab a delirious Bucky and make his way somehow outside. He did just in the nick of time with some of the hired help in the plant. He could care less right now. His top priority was Bucky. He will deal with HYDRA leftovers maybe another day

As soon as they were on safe ground and a clear distance away from any potential aftershock explosions, Steve grabbed Bucky by the face trying to ground him to here and now.

“Buck... Buck” he barely said the words.

“Can’t...too..memories...just..I..” Steve just, didn’t know what to do as it seemed like Bucky was stuck in some mental...

“Look at me... just, look at me soldier.” He shouted sharp. That grabbed his delirious attention.

“I don’t know what’s happening, but your with me Buck” Steve says, trying not to sob like a little girl.

“Steve?” he says with his eyes filling up. “That’s good enough for me” Bucky says with the worst Brooklyn edged English he’d heard in awhile, looking ashen and barely focussed on him.

“You found me...” Bucky says before he screams an ear piercing howl and passes out, eyes open.

-------------

Tony looks like he’s ready to burst into the first emotional outpouring they’d ever seen. Nat’s her guarded self, but there’s something in her eyes... Steve’s not sure it’s pity or compassion. Steve doesn’t notice his tears until they fall on his hand that’s on his heart again.

He doesn’t know how long he spent trying to get Bucky’s lifeless mind back into the same bit of time and space as him, but at one point he did notice Iron Man and the rest of the team arrive. Grab him and Bucky still clutched in his arms onto a plane of sorts and head back to some medical attention. Bucky had tried a couple of times to steady himself, but there were these episodes of memories and blabbering that he kept loosing himself to... the last one he’d been saying nonsense in Russian as they had allowed him to take him into an operating theatre and hook him upto machines and different drugs.

Steve was afraid the set up might look like what his tormentors were doing to him if he ever came up, but a doctor had carefully advised him to stay outside. And that was the last he saw of his... friend? No.. his Bucky seems more appropriate, whatever it means.

“Please...i just, want to see him.” He tries to keep his words even, but failing miserably.

He doesn’t even understand what’s happening when Natasha gets onto the bed with him, and holds him as he...cries.

------------

He’s not sure when he drifted off to sleep, but he wakes up to Bruce by his side on a very cushy chair, Clint was by the view of his Skyline drawn closed by a curtain, keeping an eye on the world around them as always.

“What...time is it” he says, his voice more hoarse than he’s ever heard it to be.

“A little past 6am” says Clint, coming over to his bed. “Nat left only about an hour ago.”

Well that answered his next question. Now that left only a very uncomfortable silence he didn’t know what to do with.

“Tony’s got Jarvis hacked into the security feeds at the hospital bud, but we have a feeling he’s been moved to a secure location already. As soon as a SHEILD report is entered in, we will work backwards from there if we must”.

“But Natasha and Clint have an idea where he might be taken” Bruce adds, a calmness to his voice that’s more than a bit reassuring. “Sam is on his way over from D.C to see you as well”.

Steve sighs and leans back for a second before he’s ready to get out of bed again.

“We got this” Tony says over Jarvis’s communication panel in the room.

“Let your friends help you Steve...” Bruce says, sagely. “We’ll break buildings down if we have to” he winks.

“Yeah...I’ve been aching for a kickass sess.” Clint starts adding before Bruce is sternly signalling the loudest unsaid ‘no’ in the history of non-verbal communication.

“or.. Breakfast! You must be starved!! I remember the time Nat used one of those Widow bites on me after an especially testy argument. It gave me the munchies for Tacos like you wouldn’t believe.”  

“Great.. Let’s get some breakfast then” Steve says, hoping his smile is true to half the peace he feels already.

------

Days and nights had gone by with little information in between. Steve was kept busy/entertained by an Avenger at a time whilst Sam had talked him through some stuff that he didn’t burst out into tears or fits of rage sporadically. He’d even taken him for some professional help that came SHEILD approved. Or Stark approved. He was not sure, but he’d never gotten the full concept of a Psychiatrist, until now. . It had been a blessing in disguise his psychiatrist had helped him see. She’d helped him come to terms with his guilt and help him acclimatize to the life and times of 21^st century living. He never knew he needed to be acclimatized, but it helped having professional help.

He spent his time mission free, sparring and keeping fit the non-lethal way. Walking New York both nostalgic as well as hopeful; something he hadn’t felt in a long time. His friends helped him stay occupied, and as less occupied at the same time. Thor had offered him a tour of the nine realms quite exuberantly only to be shooed and shot at by the rest of them altogether.

Steve would’ve declined either way. He was too restless to enjoy all the glories this tour would involve. And it would be something he’d rather do with Bucky; the true nerd who’d appreciate all this.

Speaking of Bucky, they had moved him before any of them had expected to. Almost within the three initial days Steve had been under. The hospital wasn’t a unique facility according to Natasha and Clint, SHEILD possessed many medical points for it’s care and disposal operations.

But Stark and Nat had confirmed his capture and holding was still an exclusively SHEILD operation. SHEILD had come into its own independent right of operation it seems thanks to some heavy proof that came out in light of the recent vigilante HYDRA break ins; which Captain America had nothing to do with, of course. But SHEILD did come across an extensive pick of higher ups to twist arms and get their cases closed or solved. SHEILD was now under new management. Nick Fury at the head of its new cabal along with Hill and a couple of other high ranking SHEILD officers to survive, and have a completely HYDRA free track record.

Steve rested easy simply on that fact for awhile, but now his patience was wearing thin, as much as the training centre would agree with the machines Steve had outrun and equipment he’d worn out. The company was nice too, but not the company he was looking for. The game nights, the movie nights, the BBQ’s and the fun little escapades they got to sort out simple things within the city were of no interest to Steve’s waning interest. It’d been over a month since he saw Bucky. And he was unconscious the last he saw of him. His restless mind had given way to anxieties he’d never known to have about Bucky.

He hoped and prayed Nick Fury would have answers for him. He wildly expected a miracle. He’d sell his soul outright to get a glimpse of Bucky on print for all that it mattered how. He told as much to Fury he’d accosted in his own office in a violent outrage. He didn’t even know it was a violent outrage.

“Listen here young man and you listen well...” Fury said standing up to his full stature. “I have let it slide that you have committed crimes I’d lost track of in your furious and foolish attempt to vindicate your guilt all in the name of one man whom you called a friend that I’m sorry to say is most likely never coming back to you in any form you remember him in”.

Fury continued the dressing down of a lifetime, but Steve couldn’t get beyond those words. He’d considered it for a great while since he’d returned.

Bucky might never come back to him as the Bucky he knew. But whatever form... he just wanted a chance. A chance to sleep better at night, with his hand by his side.

“....not to mention he is the sole man wanted by every major security and espionage organization, preferably dead and I have to hold him se..”

“I don’t care” he said, never knowing it came out barely as a whisper.

“What did you say...” Fury asked indignantly.

“I don’t care...” he says his voice barely coherent, but loud. “...Just let me see him one more time.”

“I don’t care if he’s wholly my Bucky. I just... I just want to know, whatever version he is... he’s alive and well at the moment”

“Let me know he’s okay.”

“Lock me up for his crimes and mine for all I care..just”

“Just let me sleep in peace knowing he’s alive and well”

“Just...please. I beg of you”

----

Two weeks later, out of the blue. A vehicle had shown up with Fury in tow. Not a word was said to anyone, but Steve casually walked to the car park and got into it. It was the last day they were holding him here in the current location before they shipped him to a new location, so Fury himself had vouched for Steve’s arrival to the Cabal. He was sure more of it was involved, but he was thankful for this moment.

Through doors, and doors, and so many armed guards with armor piercing rounds Steve was told he was on the other side of a double door that had a fingerprint security and code combination that only a random guard at a time could open. They were not taking any chances it seemed, even with his supposed good behaviour.

‘afraid I might break him out’ Steve was aching to ask. But he rather not look a gift horse in the mouth.

He was let in through the door, and any private things he wished to whisper seemed futile with every free bit of wall had a heavily armed security person against it.

He took a deep breath and sighed. Several machines were attached to him monitoring different things. His heart rate seemed abnormally high, but he was told it was normal. He was even attached to a brain wave monitor of a new calibre he didn’t understand.

Medical stuff aside... There was Bucky.

He looked half his size. Just like when he’d gotten the flu and all they could afford was cans of peas. He was told that they had tried to figure out the Russian tech that connected his arm could be dismantled, but had learnt that it was actually connected into his nervous system by millions of tiny wires that stretched right into his body and spinal chord and brain. So they had opted to keep him sedate especially with his erratic Psychological breaks. Fury had mentioned they had a team of Shrinks (he assumed he meant Psychologists and Psychiatrists) had been working with him, with slow and steady progress... but as it was. This is the best he got.

He was grateful. He walked over... and was stopped again a foot from the bed and searched for any item he could find on his person that might be... well, used against anyone in this room.

“Doesn’t hurt to be careful” a rather beat up looking guard added with a smile that missed a few teeth. Steve tried not to laugh and know exactly why. Ah Bucky...

Once he was free to walk upto Bucky. He just... did what was most natural to him. He leant in over the bed and kissed him on the head. Put his hand over Bucky’s rising and falling chest. Yes, he was alive and well and resting. And if anyone paid any attention, his brain waves settled into the most at peace it has ever been.

Steve then held his hand for a second or two, squeezing it as he bent over again and whispered in his ear what he could, and walked away before he knew he would surely need to be carried out.

--------

Steve never had a peaceful nights rest till long after Bucky would be at his side in the same bed, sometimes holding him close, some nights he would hold Bucky close. It was a long time after the two of them ever thought this might be their reality. But when either of them awoke from the horrors of their dreams or were tormented by their demons, a hand would find their hearts and soothe away their ills.