Chapter Text
Sam and Bucky approached the warehouse on foot while Torres ran reconnaissance in the air. They were following a lead from Sharon that the Power Broker was running some kind of shady operation here in upstate New York. After taking a couple of months off following the incident with Karli and the Flagsmashers, they had indicated to her that they were interested in learning more about the Power Broker’s operation. It seemed that it would only be a matter of time before what happened in Madripoor did not stay in Madripoor, and they were feeling refreshed and ready to take on a new mission.
Bucky and Sam had spent quite a bit of time together recently, helping Sarah run the family business and catching Bucky up on years of pop culture and history that he had missed. As they approached a door to the warehouse, Bucky gave Sam his winning smile and Sam almost blushed. If Sam was being honest with himself, there was something unspoken between them, you might even say it was attraction. But having never broached the subject of sexuality directly, Sam still felt nervous that he was reading too much into things and that admitting his feelings would disrupt the comfortable state of their friendship. He’d always been an over thinker. It’s part of why it took him so long to accept that he should take on the mantle of Captain America.
He gave Bucky a nod, and Bucky broke down the door with one punch from his vibranium arm.
Inside, the warehouse looked completely deserted. Sam and Bucky split up to make their way around the perimeter and met up again across from the entrance. No sign of activity whatsoever.
“I’m not seeing anything from up here, boss,” Torres’ voice came through on Sam’s comms.
“Roger that,” Sam said in a low voice, still a bit on edge that there was someone hiding. There were a few desks in the corner, so Sam pointed at them and started walking in that direction, Bucky following close behind.
Finding no one hiding among the desks, Sam began to relax a bit and started rustling through the drawers, looking for intel. Bucky kept his gun in his left hand and followed Sam’s lead. He found some files and began to rifle through them. There was information on Dr. Nagel and the super soldier serum.
“Sam, check this out,” Bucky showed him the file.
Sam’s brows furrowed, but he was unsurprised. “Well, we know that the Power Broker was all about Super Soldiers.”
“Apparently hasn’t given up on the prospect, either,” Bucky noted.
Sam laid some of the more interesting files out and had Redwing scan them in for perusing later. Something still had him feeling anxious about this warehouse.
“Sam,” Bucky’s voice sounded truly disturbed now. Sam looked up quickly and peered at the file in Bucky’s hand.
It was about the Winter Soldier project.
Sam swallowed hard. “It makes sense that they would be interested in any known successful super soldier serums,” he offered, trying to reassure Bucky. “There’s probably one on Steve as well.”
Bucky pursed his lips and put the file down, trying to shake the unease he felt at seeing it.
Something came flying toward the ground as if it had been thrown from the rafters. Bucky looked up quickly, but couldn’t see anything up there. He looked back at the object and tensed, prepared for anything.
It was a round object emitting green light, and, they realized at the same time - a green gas.
“Sam, get out of here,” Bucky pushed Sam toward the door. He didn’t know what that gas was made of, but it couldn’t be anything good.
“Torres, do not enter the warehouse. Someone dropped a gas bomb. Unsure of the substance,” Sam gave the order into his earpiece as he took long strides toward the door. He thought about deploying the wings, but the gas had already wafted toward them and he was feeling lightheaded. He figured the chances of just crashing into the wall were high. He kept running toward the door, but his quick breathing just made the gas enter his system even faster, and he began to stagger. He wasn’t going to make it to the door.
Sam knew what Bucky would say but had to try anyway - “Buck, get out of here.”
“Like hell I’m leaving you in here!” Bucky barked back, as expected. Bucky threw his left arm under Sam’s shoulders, trying to keep him up. He felt only the slightest bit of fuzziness in the back of his mind - sometimes that super soldier metabolism came in handy.
Sam’s knees buckled and Bucky was just able to break his fall. “Gonna make me carry your dumbass out of here, huh?” Bucky said with an affectionate smile, trying to hide the worry he was feeling for Sam. He wasn’t yet sure if this was just-knock-you-out gas or goddamn-kill-you gas.
Bucky knelt beside Sam and prepared to pick him up, but while that endeavor had him distracted, a figure in a gas mask struck him across the temple with a metal rod.
Bucky went down, his head hurting like a bitch. It would take more than that to knock him out, but it was a strong enough blow that he needed a moment to get his bearings. But before he could register what was happening, he felt a sting in his neck as some sort of injection was plunged into his veins.
Shit, was all he could think. He looked at Sam, who was unconscious but looked otherwise unharmed. He desperately hoped this was just-knock-you-out gas. He glanced around for his assailant, but they had disappeared into the fog. He tried to get up but his head felt so heavy… actually, his whole body felt so heavy. Fuck, how was he going to get Sam out of here now?
Bucky tried to reach for Sam but whatever he’d been injected with was making quick work of his senses and he collapsed. He tried to call for help on the comms but all he could make out was Torres’ name before everything went black.
Sam woke up slowly, trying to put together where the hell he was for several moments before he suddenly remembered their predicament. Shit, how long was he out? He sat up and looked around. The warehouse was empty, only traces of gas still in the air. It smelled bad and Sam’s head felt woozy, but he was coming around. Bucky was laying beside him and Sam guessed that the gas had had a delayed effect on him, as the last thing he remembered was Bucky saying something about carrying his dumbass out of here and he’d seemed fine then.
“Come on Buck, let’s get the hell out of here,” Sam clapped Bucky’s shoulder as he dragged himself up to his knees. There was absolutely no response. Shit, there’s no way I can carry him out of here like this, Sam thought, still barely able to stand up himself. He tried to shake the fuzziness from his head and looked at Bucky more closely. He noticed a cut and bruise on Bucky’s temple and felt confused. What the hell?
And suddenly, cold fear gripped Sam’s stomach when he realized that Bucky wasn’t breathing.
“Bucky!” Sam cried out, unable to comprehend what had happened. He knew it wouldn’t do any good, but he shook Bucky’s shoulders anyway, desperately willing him to wake up.
Bucky’s body was completely limp and lifeless. Sam couldn’t contain the panic that was welling up in him.
“No, no, no, no…” Sam felt Bucky’s neck for a pulse, but there was nothing. He felt like the world was crumbling around him. How could this happen?!
Sam pulled Bucky’s head into his lap and caressed the pale face as tears stung his eyes. He couldn’t make any sense of this, his racing thoughts completely nonsensical. Why would someone only knock him out but kill Bucky? How did someone kill Bucky? Sam helplessly examined Bucky’s body for injuries but the only thing out of place was the bruise on his temple. This made no sense. With no answers to his questions, Sam succumbed to the heartbreak instead. At this moment, the how and why mattered less than the ugly truth of the situation, which was that Sam had once again lost his partner, utterly helpless to stop it, and on a mission that was supposed to be easy, no less. He didn’t know how he would ever recover from this. Tears streaming from his eyes, Sam let out the sob that he’d been holding back and pressed his forehead to Bucky’s, unsure how he would ever let go.
Suddenly, there were footsteps behind him, followed by a hand on his shoulder. “Sam!”
It was Sharon’s voice. Sam didn’t know how to respond. Sharon took in the scene and with only slight hesitation, reached out and felt Bucky’s neck for a pulse. She looked a bit surprised at the results but more than anything, Sam thought she looked determined. He felt slight confusion but then Sharon was trying to drag him to his feet.
“Sam, we’ve got to get out of here before reinforcements come. Torres called me and said they’re on their way. We don’t have any time.”
“I can’t leave him,” Sam said weakly.
“I’m sorry Sam, he’s gone. We’ve got to get out of here,” more gently, she added - “it’s what he would want.”
Sam didn’t budge. He felt like he was paralyzed. There was no way he could leave Bucky here for the owners of this warehouse to do god-knows-what to him.
“I can’t,” Sam tried again.
Sharon had lost patience with him and she dragged him away from Bucky’s body. Still weakened from the effects of the gas, Sam didn’t have the strength to stop her. Helplessly, he stared at Bucky as Sharon dragged him out of the warehouse, issuing a silent promise that he would come back.
The sun outside was blinding. Sam staggered after Sharon with his eyes barely open. He heard a soft whooshing sound that he recognized as Joaquín making landfall near him. Sam managed to open his eyes wide enough to look at Joaquín. He’d never seen the young man look so rattled.
“Sam, are you alright? Where’s Bucky?” Joaquín asked, though by the look on Sam’s tear streaked face, he already knew.
Sharon answered instead. “Bucky’s down. We’ve got to get out of here. Torres, can you help him?” She practically threw Sam at Joaquín, who obediently threw his arm around Sam and supported him as they followed Sharon’s lead. He swallowed a lump in his throat - he honestly hadn’t known Bucky well, and his general impression of him had been that he’d been a bit of a surly old cur, but he’d seen the way he and Sam looked at each other and knew that Sam was pained beyond what he could imagine. When they arrived at their getaway vehicle, Joaquín sat beside Sam and kept his arm around his shoulders in sympathy. All that Sam could do was stare into the distance, tears running down his cheeks.