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“What’s the offer?”
“Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum,” Zemo began with a drawl, standing from his seat and making his way over to Bucky, who stood motionless and silent on the side of the room. “And I give you him. Along with the code words to control him, of course.”
Bucky resisted the urge to flinch away as Zemo walked behind him, brushing his hands over Bucky’s shoulders as he passed. He kept his expression cold and aloof, all but holding his breath to keep calm, though it took him great difficulty. If he blew this, they were done for. Bucky refused to let them down like that. To let Sam down like that. He kept his thoughts as focused as possible, reminding himself of how this situation was different from other times Hydra had used him as the ace in their deck.
I am no longer the Winter Soldier.
“He will do anything you want,” Zemo stated, voice dripping with this smug persuasiveness that made Bucky’s stomach flip.
Even worse was seeing the sickening smirk that crossed Selby’s face. She looked excited, and not in the way of someone lusting for blood. It took all Bucky’s willpower not to make any change in expression as Zemo caressed his face, trying to sell the offer even further. Bucky hated being touched, especially on his face. Flashbacks of his mask, and the shocking devices, and that god damn mouthguard flashed through the forefront of his mind, and he tried his hardest not to look at Sam, who he could feel staring at him in masked concern.
They’re not actually going to use me this time.
Selby’s grin had widened as she lounged comfortably on a couch, and Bucky fought off a shudder as vague memories played through his mind of people exactly like her, and what they did with the time they had him, when he wasn’t out killing people for them.
The excitement and lust in Selby’s voice was utterly sickening, but Bucky had to fight through it. “Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately!”
We’ll get our information, they won’t leave me here.
Bucky could feel her watching him, and he made sure to hold extra still, not wanting to give Selby any ideas. He busied himself with staring at the wall straight ahead of him, and for once, he became uncomfortably aware of what Sam had meant by his staring problem. Old habits die hard, apparently.
Selby just hummed and continued speaking. “Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right.”
Bucky had to keep from sighing in relief as Zemo crossed away from him (from the front this time, much to Bucky’s further relief), and took a seat near Selby. He wasn’t being touched anymore, and that made it much easier to focus.
I was fixed in Wakanda. The words won’t work anymore.
“The super soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you’d want to thank- or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but,” Selby paused, her expression wry and slightly sarcastic as she smiled at Zemo. “Things didn’t go as planned.”
Zemo eyed her skeptically, leaning forward slightly. “Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” he asked, wanting to collect as much information as he could, and he was clearly fighting off some of his own annoyance as Selby showed him an expression of mock pity.
She started moving towards Bucky, whose heart felt icy and still in his chest. “The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron.”
The bakery would cost them? Was his freedom not enough? Bucky’s brain was moving uncomfortably fast now, wondering what more she would want with him. It could be anything, it could mean more time to command him, or possibly more people for him to slaughter as the Winter Soldier. Or maybe, she would specify what she wanted to do to him, just to solidify the deal.
It had been easier to deal with various men and women using him like that over the 70 years he’d been brainwashed, but that wasn’t really him. That was the Winter Soldier, and this was Bucky Barnes. Thinking for himself, present for every single moment of what she could do to him.
Breathing and staying focused was becoming increasingly difficult as Selby got closer, still talking to Zemo. “And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” she said, slightly harshly, causing Zemo to nod in a calm understanding. Selby was almost right in front of him when the tense moment was abruptly interrupted.
Buzz.
All eyes in the room turned to Sam, who quickly pulled his phone from his pocket.
Buzz.
Sam looked at the phone, clearly reading the contact name. Bucky could read his eyes, and knew exactly who it was. It was his sister, and they were both in deep shit now.
Buzz. Buzz.
“Answer it.” The command was brisk and clear, leaving Sam with no room to get himself out of this. Selby grinned at him, stealing the air from Sam’s lungs with her next words. “On speaker.”
Buzz. Buzz.
A bodyguard stepped closer to them behind Sam, and Sam swore internally. He had no other options, here. The phone buzzed one more time before he bit the bullet and picked up, praying he could get himself out of this with some smooth talking. “Hello?”
“Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It’s been driving me nuts.”
“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam asked, masking his nerves well. This was the worst situation they could be in right now. One wrong statement from Sarah and they were compromised, and as good as dead.
Sarah’s voice sounded tired, and a little bit annoyed, when she spoke again. “Are you high?” she asked incredulously, before continuing. “You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”
Bucky’s heart was in his throat as he watched Sam’s nerves start to break through the calm facade he was forcing as a cover, and as an added trouble, he could sense Selby behind him. Bucky has always hated people moving behind him, but it’d gotten much worse after becoming the Winter Soldier.
Sam looked tense, the kind of tension when someone knows there’s trouble coming, and he was clearly (to Bucky at least) fighting the urge to get himself out of this. “What situation, Sarah? Say it.” His voice was cold and slightly harsh, and he clearly wanted to get this over as soon as possible.
His sister clearly didn’t share his sentiment. “The damn boat. And watch your tone. Okay?” If eye rolls were audible, Sam would have gone deaf instantly. “I let you slide at the bank.”
Sam put on a cocky smirk, scoffing slightly as he did. “Yeah, the bank. Laundered so much m-” he quickly cut himself off, covering it up with a chuckle. “Yeah, they’ll come around.”
“If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?” Sarah asked with an audible laugh.
“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time.” Bucky could practically hear Sam screaming at Sarah in his head to play along as the next words left his mouth. “You’ll see when I have that banker killed.”
A sense of relief washed over the duo as Sarah called to someone else, not reacting to Sam’s sudden murder boner. “Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this! Sam, I’m sorry. Let me call you back.”
“Sam?” Selby asked, eyes going wide.
Bucky’s blood turned to ice, and he was sure Sam’s was even colder.
Fuck.
“Who’s Sam?” Selby continued, eyeing Sam suspiciously. “Kill them!” she barked to her bodyguard.
Bam! Selby dropped to the floor like a sack of hammers, a bullet tearing through her violently. Sam immediately took that chance to turn on Selby’s bodyguard and try to fight him off. Zemo followed his lead and attacked another bodyguard, who attempted to shoot him down on sight. Bucky punched a third bodyguard in the jaw, following Sam and Zemo to the nearest exit. He pulled his gun out for safety, ready to shoot if necessary.
Sam turned to Zemo, panic clear in his eyes. “They’re gonna pin this on us.”
A heavy, ragged sigh left Zemo’s chest. “We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.”
A lot of what happened after that was a blur. They got outside and the cold air filled their lungs with stinging vengeance. Bucky, however, found it relieving. The stuffy, hot air of Selby’s little office had been choking him, and if anything, he had an excuse for the heavy, shaking breaths heaving from his chest. He could feel his hand shaking, and he gripped it tightly in his vibranium one.
They’d had to run after people started shooting at them, only to run right into Sharon Carter. Sharon was pissed, and rightfully so, her life having fallen apart after their Civil War. Regardless, she was willing to take them in and keep them safe for now.
It wasn’t until they were getting changed to blend in with Sharon’s incoming guests that Bucky was finally left alone with his thoughts. He was in the bathroom, shirt off, hunched over the bathroom sink, as ice cold water flowed from the faucet. He could feel his chest shaking, and he lowered his head into his hands, avoiding looking at his scars in the mirror. He wanted so badly to just break down, break the mirror, shred up his skin, scream, cry, just something to get this feeling out of his head. But this was Sharon’s house, Sharon’s bathroom. And with all the trouble he’d already caused for her, being that he was at fault for the Civil War, he couldn’t destroy anything else of hers.
Bucky took a deep, shaky breath, and splashed some of the cold water on his face, flinching slightly upon the first contact. He was at least grateful that they’d gotten some information before Selby had been killed, and even more grateful that he hadn’t been left alone with her. He knew what she’d been thinking about when she’d been scanning him with her eyes, and he hated every moment of that. He’d be damned if he was gonna go through that again.
“Fuck- fuck, fuck.” Bucky mumbled, wiping the small amount of water that was dripping from his face. He could feel his shoulders shaking with tearless, quiet sobs, and his knees buckled slightly underneath him.
He was trying so fucking hard to distance himself from the Winter Soldier. He’d hurt so many people, and he’d been hurt too in return. Karma worked in funny ways, he supposed. But it always seemed that no matter how hard he tried, something would always come back to haunt him. Zemo taunting him with the code words, Yori’s son and the memory of murdering him, every single shitty piece of “advice” that his therapist gave him. All of it just told him that he wasn’t even a person. He was a mosaic of mistakes and crimes, and everything he’d done was branded on his skin with a white hot iron.
Bucky caught sight of his face in the mirror, and he felt sick. The undersides of his eyes were swollen and purple with sleeplessness, his face damp and shiny from the freezing water. His cheeks were red and burning, and Bucky could feel it even without touching it. His eyes themselves were bloodshot, they stung every time he blinked, every time he thought of them. The icy blue irises were locked into each other, his pupils constricted and full of fear. He was staring into the face of a killer, and staring back was his own face.
Stumbling back from the mirror, Bucky quickly turned his head away so he didn’t have to see his reflection, resisting the urge to take his nonmetal arm and shatter the mirror in one punch, just to distract himself with the pain and the blood. He felt sick, his stomach twisting in knots, and the blood draining from his head made him feel lightheaded. It took all he had to keep his head clear, and he collapsed against the wall, sliding to the floor and using his forearms to keep himself from collapsing fully. Granted, that didn’t do much, as he was pretty much just laying on the floor now, but it at least kept the top half of his body off the floor to at least some pathetic degree. He stared blankly at the floor, and the new drops of salty water hitting the ground in front of him.
That was all it took. Tears dripped freely from Bucky’s open blue eyes, and for a moment, it was just that. But he could feel an aching, burning pain ripping through his chest, and he hung his head, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth so hard it hurt his jaw. Quiet, ragged sobs tore through him, sending hot pain through his back, his chest, his shoulders- everywhere. He could feel acid burning his throat, and he didn’t even care anymore. He just wanted to be numb again.
His sobs were accompanied by stabbing, pain filled coughs, and he briefly worried he’d attract the attention of Zemo or Sharon, or worse, Sam. But in honesty, it didn’t matter that much to him anymore. He felt he deserved whatever the hell he was feeling, because Bucky Barnes was a killer. A mass murderer who was cold and guilty.
And nothing, not even a shitty therapist and some recovery in Wakanda, would ever wash away the blood on his hands.