Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve Rogers hated the cold.

He hated it ever since he crashed into the ice, fully prepared to die but instead trapped in a frozen hell. Before, he disliked it – being a sickly kid, the first freeze of winter never meant any good, his frail body unable to defend itself against the harsh environments it was subjected to.

Quickly the dislike turned into hate when he was pulled from a frozen wasteland, apparently seventy years into the future. A chill had settled into his bones, a chill that only a scalding shower could cure for a few minutes. It haunted him, followed his every move.

So it was needless to say that the cold breeze that was weaving through the bars of his cell was not desired, but rather unpleasant.

Despite his attempt to keep a stoic façade, he shivered against the slight wind, closing his eyes for a few seconds. Once again, he tried to pull against his metal restraints, but the result was as disappointing as the last time he tried. The chains held him firmly to the ceiling, his body helplessly dangling underneath.

His wrists burned, his arms ached, and his side flared with a stab of pain (probably from the blow he received earlier in his attempt to protect an unconscious Clint), but he had remained unwavering to his pain. But the cold apparently was what broke him, which he supposed was pathetic. For Captain America, at least.

However, it was a very Captain America move to sacrifice his freedom for others, and he was sure Tony would lecture him about it if – no when – he broke him out. No bars or walls could stop the billionaire’s sheer stubbornness, as he had seen numerous times. Still, he would be mad at him for getting himself in this position in the first place.

I didn’t really have a choice, Steve reminded himself as he hung helplessly in his bare cell. It was either me or them.

The battle – which he now understood was an elaborate distraction for his capture – was going quite well, with only a few injuries. The Avengers had fought worse threats, and came out victorious.

Bombs had been spread throughout the city of New York (why everyone chose New York for their villainous schemes Steve didn’t know) along with a few fighters to hinder their progress. They had been disposed of easier enough, or so Steve had thought.

Even now, hours after the event, Steve still scolded himself for making such a risky assumption. He should’ve known, as soon as he’d seen the Hydra symbol on those bombs, that this was no regular threat, something far greater. Captain America, who was supposed to be a strong, reliable leader, had directly lead his teammates into a trap. The bombs that Tony had been mocking not only a few minutes before the disaster were duds, only purpose being to split their team up.

“I’m going to give you a choice, Captain.” The Hydra agent stepped closer to him, pressing the blade against his neck. Steve was helpless but to watch as screens around him lit up  with images of his teammates trapped in their own rooms, furiously trying to find a way out. Even then, he couldn’t help but smile at their determination. Natasha, Clint, Tony, Thor, Bucky – all of them relentless in their search for freedom.

“Either you can come with me, and let us…experiment with you…” The Hydra agent let out a low laugh as Steve’s smile faded as he watched the CCTV footage. He watched as Hydra soldiers burst into each room, watched as his teammates – his family – were each backed against a wall. He watched in horror as Bucky fell to a bullet.

“No!” Steve cried out, springing up. However, he was brought to his knees again as the Hydra agent sliced his side with a grin.

“Look at them, trying to fight…” the agent gave a small chuckle. “…adorable.”

He turned to the Captain, eyes cold.

“So, what will it be, Captain?”

Yeah, Tony really hated his self-sacrificing tendencies. So did Bucky – actually, all of his team did.

But it couldn’t be helped.

The cold was back again, and this time a larger shiver travelled down his spine, making him grind his teeth to stop them from chattering. He was a super soldier – there was no way he should be affected by a small breeze. Yet here he was, shivering in the centre of the cell.

“Cold, Captain?”

Steve opened his eyes sharply, his blue irises meeting pale grey. Immediately, he forced his body to stop shaking, holding himself as high as he could, chin in the air.

“You’re early this time.” Steve said to the Hydra agent – or The Doctor, as he liked to be called.

Of course, Steve would never call him that to his face.

Despite the light words, Steve was unnerved by his reappearance. He needed the breaks, he needed his body to heal from the abuse it was endured to. He looked around nervously, feeling his body tense up.

It’s too soon, his mind screamed as he gulped. Way too soon!

“I guess I am eager for our next…session, yes?” The Doctor stepped forward, twirling his rod in his hand. Steve eyed it warily, dreading what was to come.

“You know what I’m going to ask, so let’s get on with it, shall we? Then we can get on with the fun part.” He circled around Steve, chuckling. “Well, it’s fun for me at least. For you, I’m sure it’s quite horrible.”

He jabbed the end of his rod against Steve’s most recent injury; a chunk of his skin had been cut off, down to the bone. They had wanted to test his healing abilities to the extreme.

Steve winced, but gave no louder sound. He kept his eyes trained on the crack in the wall, the same spot he always stared at when the interrogation began.

“Now, number one – what did Dr Erskine say to you when he gave you that serum?” The Doctor began. Steve stayed quiet, eyes fixed on the wall. His body tensed for the pain he knew was coming.

“No? Alright then.” The Doctor suddenly lunged forward, stabbing the front end of his baton into his unprotected chest.

A burst of electricity made Steve scream, the current racing through each cell in his body. It felt like fire, fire that twisted through his veins and burnt his insides.

He had been subjected to this torture every hour he was kept captive. It had been a few days, Steve had guessed, since the battle.

Today, the electric shock was much worse, he noted fully through the pain. It lasted longer, and made him feel like his skin was melting each second.

Only when he smelt his skin burning did the shock stop, leaving him twitching and whimpering.

“I don’t know whether you noticed,” The Doctor began, grinning up at him, “but I have turned the intensity of the shock to the maximum. You see, we thought the additional pain would make you more…talkative.” He slammed the rod in his burning chest, making him let out a choked cry. His vision blurred, and he could barely make out the words being spoken to him.

“The question is, whether you will cooperate?”

The pain stopped, and Steve could barely draw in a breath. His lungs were burning.

“Number two,” the Doctor continued where he had left of, pacing across the stone floor. His boots clanked rhythmically with every step, synchronising to the throbs of Steve’s head.

“What is the passcode to Avengers Tower?” He asked. Steve did not make eye contact, refusing to say a word.

When silence is all that is received, the Doctor tutted.

“Come on, that one was easy.” He shrugged. “Oh well.”

When the rod pieces his skin this time, it’s on his back, directly over his spine. Steve couldn’t scream, muscles freezing as he let out a choked gasp. He tasted metal in his mouth, felt warm liquid drip from his lips.

When the shock was finally over, Steve’s body was still shaking. He coughed, blood splattering the cold, grey floor. The colours contrasted beautifully, and Steve would admire it if the situation wasn’t so dire.

“You make this harder by yourself. It seems that even great pain will not break you. Physical, at least.” The Doctor spoke again, voice dropping with malice. The last part of his sentence was muttered, more to himself, Steve only being able to catch a few of the words.

“But please…do keep resisting. It will let me have some fun with you later.” The Hydra finished. Without warning, the rod was stabbed into his wounded abdomen. Steve screamed, long and loud, hoping that someone would answer his call.

No one did, again.

Not throughout the entire interrogation session. After each shock, the Doctor was becoming more pleased. At the twelfth question, he paused, rod hovering inches from Steve’s stomach.

“How did you free the Winter Soldier from his control? Where is he now?” He hissed. Steve shook his head, gasping.

“I’m not tellin’ you a thing…” he whispered. The Doctor only shrugged once more and, without any warning, slammed the rod into his chest. Once again, pain washed over him until his vision turned white.

“You have to break eventually.” The Doctor said once he withdrew the rod. Steve, for the first time, stared down at him from his restraints, giving a small smile.

“I could do this all day.”

By the thirtieth shock, Steve could no longer speak.

“I will ask again, one more time.” The Doctor smiled at him. “Why is your serum so much better than ours? What did that fool tell you before he was killed?”

Not a good soldier, but a good man, Steve remembered those words every day, and knew he would until his very last breath. Which he supposed could be very soon. He was in complete agony, any concept of time lost in his mind.

All Steve could respond with was a gasp, chest heaving. Burns and cuts were littered across his skin, the stench of burning flesh making his stomach roll. He could no longer lift his head to even look at the agent.

But his silence was enough.

“Ah, that was your last chance.” The Doctor raised his rod again, hovering over Steve’s heart.

“Pl – plea –“ Steve’s beg was cut off with a scream, shocks racing through his limbs once more. His head span, and finally he felt himself begin to lose consciousness.

“Well, physical torture is not working…which I am impressed about.” The Doctor’s words faded in and out of his ears. “Usually this voltage would kill a man. Pretty painful, isn’t it?”

Steve suddenly felt weightless, realising too late that he had been released from his chains. He dropped to the ground in a heap of trembling limbs, giving a small yelp of pain.

“So pathetic. But not broken.” The Doctor continued. “Now the fun can begin, at least.”

Steve tried to push himself up, but his limbs simply wouldn’t cooperate. He watched through blurred vision as numerous guards entered the cell, grabbing his hands and feet. Steve didn’t even try to fight, only letting out a gasp.

“This way. To the chamber.” He heard someone distantly order. His vision swam, the pain dulling as he slipped into unconsciousness.

A super soldier’s body was built for endurance, and stability. Due to this, it wasn’t long before Steve’s mind forced him into consciousness once more through a flash of pain and fear.

His vision was doubling, breath catching in his throat as he failed to draw in a breath. Through the haze of pain, he found that his surroundings had changed – no longer was he chained to the ceiling in a stone cell, but in a cleaner looking lab. The walls and floor were lined an almost dazzling white, no windows in sight. Not that he was surprised.

The whole room was twice the size of the cell, coated in a dull, amber light.

This isn’t good, Steve could only think. He had been in too many similar situations to this one. Any room that resembled a lab that the enemy had placed him in was enough to create alarm.

Unfortunately, thinking was even too much of a strain for his jumbled brain at that moment. Instead of finding a way out, he found himself shaking on the floor. He couldn’t stop trembling, no matter how hard he tried.

“You are awake, Captain. I was worried that I would have to begin without your knowledge. And I do love bragging about my work, yes?”

Suddenly, the Doctor’s voice seeped through the walls on a crackly speaker.

As if a catalyst, Steve stumbled to his feet despite the pain it created. He stared around wildly at the bare walls.

“Careful. Don’t want you passing out again…” the Doctor taunted.

Steve swallowed, looking for a source to the voice. He found none, making him uneasy.

“Anyway, I’m rambling. Let’s get to the point, shall we?” The Doctor’s laugh made Steve shiver shamefully.

“What…” Steve rasped. He couldn’t finish, ending his sentence in a series of coughs.

“Ah ah ah! Quiet!” The Doctor’s voice interrupted. “Let me explain what exactly is going to happen to you for…let’s see…the rest of your stay here.”

The speaker rang in Steve’s ears, crackling. Steve stayed silent.

“Seeing as physical torture does not work for you, I thought it would be a good time to try out a new gas prototype. Very simple purpose, but very effective. Let me show you.”

There was a low hissing sound, a sound Steve was horribly familiar with. Looking up sharply, he saw clouds of purple gas leak out of small vents, crawling lower to the ground. Immediately, Steve covered his mouth and nose the best he could, dropping to the ground.

A loud ring of laughter was emitted from the speakers.

“It’s the most powerful hallucinogen Hydra has ever created! And you are so lucky to be the first test subject!”

Steve crawled to the corner of the room, already feeling the gas burn his eyes. It tasted sour, making him cough again.

“Don’t try and fight it…it will only make it more fun for me to watch!” 

He couldn’t help it – he took a gasping breath, only to choke as the gas entered his system. Tears streamed from his eyes at its intensity.

“But I’ll leave you to find out the rest…” the Doctor’s voice faded, sounding underwater. The room around him began to shift and change, bending into a swirling mass of colour. Steve closed his eyes, clamping his hands around his ears as a loud buzz attacked his hearing. He did not know how long he stayed that way, burying his head into his knees in an attempt to protect his airways from another assault of gas.

“Steve?”

A timid voice made the world silent around him. Steve froze.

It was a voice that he thought he would never hear again, trapped forever in history and dreams. Soft, yet with a hard edge that was full of determination.

Steve couldn’t help but open his eyes, staring into chocolate irises that he never thought he would see again.

The room was white around them, trapping them in an unnatural blank void. Steve didn’t notice, staring in front of him in confusion.

There she was, just as she had been before he crashed into the ice. Her hair neatly styled, arms folded over her chest. Lips pursed, glistening with the red lipstick that he had always wanted to taste.

“Peggy?” Steve breathed into the silence.

Peggy smiled, eyes twinkling.

Chapter Text

“Okay, what the fuck just happened?” Tony asked into his earpiece, watching bewildered as the Hydra agents that had been swarming him suddenly retreated within a heartbeat. Something twisted in his gut, which he soon realised was worry. “Guys?”

“They seem to have retreated back behind enemy lines, Man Of Iron. Perhaps they were overcome by our might.” Thor said – more like yelled – through the mic. Tony gave a frown before realising that they couldn’t see him.

“Everyone good?” He asked. Thankfully, an array of voices answered his call.

“They left me too.” Natasha was the first to answer. “Heard a gunshot close to me, I’m going to investigate.” She informed him. Tony winced at the news.

“That was me.” Bucky muttered, voice raspy. “I was caught off guard. Distracted.”

Natasha murmured something in Russian down the line. Tony didn’t bother to translate, not wanting to invade their privacy. However, he did pick up the name “Steve”, and his blood ran cold at the memory of his last sighting of the super soldier. It was unusual for him not to answer his line for so long – the Captain was talking in them almost constantly, checking whether they were wounded.

Thinking back, Tony realised that he hadn’t seen Steve since they split up. He clenched his fist.

“The bombs were fucking duds. And where the fuck is Steve?” Tony raised his hand as he spoke, blasting the roof open. He flew out as the building began to crumble, perching on a lamppost.

“I thought he was helping Clint.” Falcon’s smooth voice replied. Tony turned, finding the man hovering beside him.

“So was I.” Tony said. He gestured helplessly to the spot of ground below, where Clint was walking somewhat unsteadily. There was no other with him.

“Shit.” Falcon, without another word, took off into the sky.

“You’re telling me no one knows where he is?” Bucky asked tightly. Even through the mic, Tony could hear the strain in his voice.

Though reluctant, Tony had chose to place Barnes on the Avengers team, along with Wilson. After the almost-Civil-War fiasco (he had almost foolishly tried to kill the winter soldier before looking at Steve distraught expression), he supposed it was the least he could do after forcing them to be constantly on the run and fight his own team. The thought of his parent’s murderer joining their team didn’t sit well with him, sure, but he understood how little control Barnes actually had.

Throughout the time, he and Bruce had began therapy to erase the soldier’s programming completely. And not once had Steve left Bucky’s side, always shoulder to shoulder. Tony had seen plenty of times the fondness and care that Steve gazed at Bucky with, and found himself wanting to help in any way that he could.

But now Steve was apparently gone. Barnes must be freaking out.

Heck, he was freaking out.

“Steve?” Bucky yelled through the comms, jolting him out of his worry. “Steve I swear to God, answer me!”

Silence.

Steve would never leave Bucky in silence.

“Okay, we need a wide search.” Tony organised. “I was sure that those bombs were all duds, but it’s possible Steve’s may have not been. Split up into groups, and cover this entire area.” He ordered.

Murmurings of agreement rang in his ear, and he gave himself a short nod. He paused, thinking.

“Everyone but Barnes. Get him to medical before he lifts up even a pebble.” Tony advised. Immediately, Bucky argued.

“No fucking way! I’ve survived worse!” He all but growled into the mic.

“Nat, I give you full permission to knock him out.”

“I’ve gotta find him –“

“I know Steve would kill me when he finds out you searched for him with a bullet wound.” Tony retorted. “So get to medical. Bruce will patch you up.”

“It seems that Doctor Banner is still enraged.” Thor informed them. Tony flipped off his helmet, running a hand down his face.

“Natasha, could you –“

“On it.” The assassin answered. From his perch, he watched her weave through the buildings, towards the roaring ahead of them.

“FRIDAY? Can you find Steve’s tracker?” He asked his AI. He took off into the air once more, following the computer’s instructions as he scoured the streets.

“Two miles South, sir.” FRIDAY chimed. Tony followed the direction, giving an update through the comms.

“FRIDAY has Steve’s location. Get over to me ASAP.” Tony ordered. As he closed in on Steve’s location, he gazed down at the street below him.

Rubble and dust coated the roads of New York, but thankfully nothing colossal. The fact was strange in itself, Tony realised – usually Hydra were very eager to blow up a building of two, wanting to create as much heartbreak as they could to the victims. Not only that, but they went to the effort to plant dud bombs, where they were all separately ambushed – it sounded out of character, almost as if it were –

“ – a distraction…” Tony whispered. Dread consumed him.

Steve was missing.

Steve was missing.

“It was a distraction!” Tony yelled into the comms, unable to hear his voice over the buzzing in his ears.

Steve never just went missing. Not without a sound, like he had done.

“What?” Falcon’s voice asked. Tony barely heard it.

“Get over here, quickly!” Tony yelled, crashing to the ground. Slabs of concrete split beneath him, but he paid no attention. Instead, he stared up at the empty tower block that FRIDAY had lead him to.

“According to the tracker, Steve is on the second floor of the building.” FRIDAY informed him.

“I knew it.”

Tony turned, finding Bucky standing behind him with Clint propping him up.

“Steve’s going to kill me, Barnes!” Tony snapped. “Come back when you stop bleeding all over the floor!”

“You know I ain’t leaving, so let’s get going, Stark.” Bucky replied testily. The rest of his team were crowded behind him, looking torn between helping him and looking for Steve.

Tony was about to argue, but instead strode forward into the building. He didn’t have time to be arguing to someone who wouldn’t change their mind, not when another life was possibly at stake.

“The doors are sealed shut.” Clint suddenly said into the dark halls of the building. To demonstrate his point, he pulled hard on the door closest to him. Bucky reached over from Clint’s shoulder, pulling the metal with his own strength. The door didn’t give.

“Look.” Bruce, who had finally de-hulked, pointed to the walls.

They were decorated with red arrows, all pointing towards the staircase that lead to the different floors.

“I don’t think this décor came with the building.” Tony muttered, narrowing his eyes. He heard Bucky growl from behind him.

“It seems like this path has been marked on purpose. We have been told to walk it.” Thor’s voice said into the tense silence.

“We have no choice if we want to find Steve.” Sam began to walk forward, using his wings to partially light the way. “How much further?”

“Just up the stairs. To the right.” Tony gestured upwards.

As one, the team began to climb the stairs on high alert. But it seemed the building was completely empty, devoid of any life or sound.

“I hear something.” Bucky suddenly said. He gestured to the earpiece to provide further explanation. “Footsteps.”

He was right, Tony realised as he listened carefully. Through Steve’s earpiece, they could make out the distant thud of footsteps as they approached.

“Our footsteps.” Tony clarified. “He’s close. Be on guard for any danger.”

Finally, they reached the top of the stairs. The arrows only continued down the all, this time decorated with mocking messages.

‘Almost there!’ One read, ending with a smiley face. Bucky took one look at the writing before heaving himself off Clint.

With one hand clutched around his wound and the other holding out a gun, the soldier dashed in front, breaking their protective line.

“James!” Natasha hissed. Bucky didn’t even acknowledge the deadly warning, eyes narrowed as he followed the arrows.

“For the love of – let’s go!” Tony shouted, taking off after him. The remainder of the team followed, though slower than the soldier.

Honestly, Tony really couldn’t blame him.

There was a sudden, almost tortuous wail in the next room, where all of the arrows had been leading them to. For a moment, Tony was stunned at the noise, before he realised that it had came from Barnes.

He dashed into the room, his team behind him, just as he saw Bucky punch the wall. In his metal hand, a Captain America action figure was slowly getting crushed, a piece of paper wrapped around its torso.

“Fuck!” Bucky yelled, punching the wall a second time with more vigour.

“Where’s Steve?” Tony demanded, despite already suspecting the answer. Bucky didn’t move, only crushing his fist deeper into the wall.

It was only when Natasha stepped forward, murmuring in Russian, did he turn to look at them, his eyes cold with malice and rage. Wordlessly, he thrust the action figure out in front of him, hand trembling.

Tony looked down at it, and had the urge to blast it into pieces.

The Captain America figure, at a closer glance, had its eyes and mouth purposefully scratched out. Stuck to its chest, there was a small note, simply reading:

‘We will make him talk. You will all fall for your leader.’

Beneath was a blazing red emblem, one that made his heart drop. Hydra.

“They took him.” Bucky muttered, breathing heavily. “They fucking took him.”

Something was also pinned in the doll’s hand; Tony plucked it off, holding it to the light. It was a small chip attached to a piece of blue material.

“It’s Steve’s tracker.” Tony realised aloud. At his words, Clint hissed out a curse as Natasha muttered in Russian darkly. Thor was oddly silent, but a moment later the first clap of thunder rumbled above the building.

This was bad, really bad.

~

It was a silent journey back to the Quinjet. Steve’s seat was painfully empty when they entered, and Tony found himself looking away from it.

He felt completely helpless. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to hostage situations – heck, they were the Avengers, lots of people wanted them dead – but he had always known exactly where his team was, taken or not. How Hydra managed to find the tiny tracker still baffled him, sure that it would be impossible to locate. It was sewn into the lining itself, compressed to be no bigger than a staple.

Slowly, he raised his head to look at his team members, noticing that they too weren’t fairing well with the news. Bruce was looking dangerously green, and Clint was sitting with his head bowed. Natasha was glaring hard at the wall, her fingers digging into her arms as she tried to control her own temper. Sam was pacing along the seating area, partly trying to calm himself down and partly restraining Bucky from leaping out of the window. The super soldier himself, though finally agreeing to have medical attention, was tense, trembling slightly. Thor wore an uncharacteristic frown as the thunder grew louder around the jet.

“We gotta find him. Why are we even going back to the tower?” Bucky muttered, almost inaudible. Sam strode over to him, pinning him back down in his seat before he tried to escape the jet again.

“Don’t you think I’m trying?” Tony snapped. He resumed his focus to the statistics shown in his helmet, the screen searching for any movement since the battle. He had found nothing – it was like the Hydra agents simply disappeared.

So much for his ‘Stark intellect’, as Steve liked to call it.

“What about old Hydra bases?” Clint asked, turning to Bucky. Bucky shook his head.

“There’s no way they did something dumb like that. They’re dangerous, not stupid.” The soldier replied.

“Once I have rested I shall scour this entire planet to find my Shield-Brother.” Thor said lowly, a menacing growl to his voice that Tony never wanted to hear again.

“Trust me, we’ll join you as soon as we physically can.” Sam replied with a sigh. “I won’t stop until – “

“Stop!” Tony suddenly yelled. Ignoring his team’s questions, he focused on the words that appeared on his screen.

They flashed again, an unknown contact taking up most of his view.

“FRIDAY, trace the contact as fast as you can.” Tony ordered, ripping his helmet off. Wordlessly, he projected the message onto the wall of the jet. He read silently, filling with fury.

‘Dear Avengers,’ the message read, ‘I hope I am not interrupting. But you must be wondering about your Captain, and I didn’t want to worry you. And no, you cannot track this number. I do not want to have to deal with your wrath, unfortunately.’

“Oh you will, trust me.” Clint muttered. Tony, agreeing silently, continued to read.

‘The Captain has a long history with Hydra, one that now can be repaid. Rest assured, we will break him, and with his fall shall come your own. As I made clear earlier, we will make him talk. That is, unless we make a deal, Stark.’

“What?” Tony whispered, narrowing his eyes.

‘Very simple – your weapons, your tech, and you can have what’s left of the Captain. Don’t worry, your tech will be in good hands! We will put it to great use in our agenda! But I must warn you – make your decision quickly…I’m not sure how long your precious Captain will last.’

Once they all finished reading, the projection flickered and died. In its place, a phone number was presented, the second part of the message.

‘Call for the Captain!’ it jeered underneath.

Tony stood and, in one motion, threw his helmet against the wall.

As it hit the floor, lighting struck, and it began to rain.

Chapter Text

“Peggy.” Steve murmured. The initial confusion and doubt he had felt at the sight of her unique silhouette melted away quickly, his mind feeling fuzzy. He forgot he ever felt any suspicion, daring to take another step towards her.

His footsteps echoed loudly as it collided with the white void they were standing in. Steve didn’t notice the unnaturalness that he was surrounded him.

“Is it you?” He whispered. Peggy nodded.

“Of course.” Her voice was light, reminding him of the gentle breezes in Brooklyn. He couldn’t help but smile.

Questions bombarded his mind for a quick second – questions of why and how were simply ignored as soon as they had came, pushed out of his mind.

“You…” Steve couldn’t speak, but Peggy seemed to understand.

“Take my hand.” She asked softly. Steve obliged, taking her small hand in his. They were as rough as he had remembered – not the delicate hands of his mother, but a hardworking woman.

Wordlessly, Steve pulled Peggy towards his chest, hearing her heart beat rhythmically with his own. He felt the life pulse in her fingertips, the warmth of her pale skin.

The world flickered like television static around them, changing into the diner they had gone to decades ago. Steve looked around in awe before reverting his attention to the woman beside him.

“What about that dance?” He asked her. Peggy looked up at him, eyes twinkling.

They moved as one, slowly twirling across the tiled floor. Music hummed in the background, thrumming through the otherwise empty diner.

“I’m sorry.” Steve eventually said, pulling her closer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was inevitable, really.” Peggy answered. An almost unheard, static sound underlapped her usually beautiful voice, making it sound as if she was speaking through a radio. Steve’s mind dismissed the fact, favouring to close his eyes.

“How so?” He let Peggy lead the dance, relaxing in her embrace.

“Oh, it’s quite simple.” Peggy answered with a hum. “You are always going to move on, Steve.”

The music quickened in pace, and Steve found himself struggling to keep in step. He opened his eyes again, frowning.

“I never wanted to. I could never.” He answered. Peggy looked up at him sharply as the dance grew faster once again.

“But you did.” She moved in a twirl, ducking under Steve’s arm with a flourish.

The image of Peggy suddenly flicked, her vibrant colours changing to the monotone colours of the 1940’s for a few seconds at a time.

Steve watched in slight horror and worry, his eyes travelling to her small hand in his. It flickered once more before staying a dull grey, speckled in tv static.

“Peggy – what –“ he stared around wildly before pressing Peggy close to him. The music stopped with a click, stilling their dance mid-step.  

“Do you get tired of it?”

Steve stared down at Peggy at her words, her voice sounding more and more like the recording he had last heard seventy years ago.

She was completely monotone, her beautiful eyes now a dull grey. Steve felt tears burn in his eyes at her words.

“Well?” Her voice was cold, so unlike the memories he had treasured. “Do you?”

At those words, the diner’s floor suddenly caved in, blasting apart. Peggy was ripped from Steve’s grip as he fell, limbs flailing.

A paralysing cold suddenly seized him, and he found he was unable to breathe. The cold waters of the artic greeted him like an old enemy, clogging his airways.

Panic flooded his senses as he sank. He desperately tried to swim, to escape the hell he was placed into, but could not find the strength.

Through the murky depths, he saw a warm blue light moving towards him. Moments later, he was pulled out of the water and onto the remains of the Valkyrie.

“Tony?” Steve uttered as soon as he could, looking up at his saviour. Iron Man stared down at him, saying nothing.

“It seems that the world keeps moving for you, Steve, but you stay still.” Peggy’s voice cut through the air. Steve span around, finding that she was standing on top of the water.

“Simply just a soldier fighting another war.”

Steve forced himself to look away, staring at Tony again. He was strangely silent.

“Nothing more.”

“Ton –“ Steve began, but was quickly winded as Tony sent a fist into his gut. His feet slipped on impact, and he tumbled back into the water - only to be pulled out moments later by another, familiar hand.

“Thor –“ Steve briefly caught glimpse of the familiar god before he was shoved under again, lungs freezing as icy water gushed through his parted lips.

Again and again, he was mercilessly thrown in and out of the water like a rag doll, each time by another hand. Natasha. Clint. Bruce. All mercilessly continuing to stare at him with blank eyes.

Finally, finally, he was released, left to tremble on the jagged ice. He tried to stand, but couldn’t push himself beyond his arms before collapsing again.

The world shifted and changed, the ice twisting into a towering slope. Its shadow cast over him, making him stare up in shock.

“And yet, you persuade yourself to think differently.” Peggy was behind him again, her monochrome body flickering into television static.

At the top of the slope, the Avengers stood, staring down at him.

“Persuade yourself that you are indeed more than just a means to win a war.”

Automatically, Steve stumbled over to the slope and began to climb slowly. His body protested, for once holding him back as it did when he was younger. Still, he refused to back down, climbing despite his fingers being bloody and black from the cold.

He was almost at the top when he felt himself being tugged back down. Unable to resist, he began to slip back down the slope with a cry.

Sharply looked down at himself, he found that his wrists and ankles were bound in steel chains, digging into his skin. Breath hitching, he followed their trail until he saw what he was attached to.

“No…” Steve whispered, eyes widening. Peggy stared back at him, chains wrapped around her arms.

“Are you scared, Stevie?” She teased, her voice mocking. She tugged on the chains violently, forcing him further down. Steve watched as his uniform began to flicker, it’s modern redesign glitching back to its original. His heart quickened, desperately scraping the rough ice to try and resist the opposing force.

In horror, he watched as the movement slowly tore apart his blackened fingertips, the fingernails peeling off and sticking into the ice. Terrified, he could do nothing as the frostbite spread before his eyes, crawling up his arms and staining them a horrible black.

“Are you scared that one day, you will realise the reality of your miserable existence?” Peggy jeered. Her voice increased in volume until it was a scream against his ear despite the tone being level and calm. “Really, Steve…”

Panting, Steve reached out a trembling hand to his teammates. They were watching him struggle soundlessly.

“Please…” Steve wheezed, pulling with all his might against the chains. They stared back at him, unmoving.

“…do you really believe in that happily ever after?”

For a moment, as his team suddenly moved, Steve believed that they were going to help him. But the moment was shattered when all they did was part to the side, making way for a hauntingly familiar figure.

Steve was looking up at an exact replica of himself, only better. Brighter eyes, smarter uniform, shield held tightly in his hand. He looked more like the posters that had been used in his own time.

He couldn’t breathe. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at the ideal version of himself. His eyes darted to each of his teammates, who were only staring at this new Captain, unblinking.

With an unwavering, steady arm, the improved Captain America raised his shield high, aiming for Steve’s broken body. He didn’t have time to react before the shield slammed into him, the force throwing him off the mound and high into the air.

Helplessly, he crashed to the ground with enough force to make him scream. Through blurred vision, Peggy’s petite frame came into view. She stared coldly above him before pulling him up with the chains.

“You are alone, Steve.” She said sweetly, a smile gracing onto her lips. Steve was slowly being pulled towards her, his limbs unresponsive once more.

“So utterly alone.”

“Shut up!” Steve screamed, cry splitting into the silence. He forced himself to his feet, tears burning in his eyes.

Blinded by hurt and grief, he swung his fist, intending to knock Peggy off balance.

What was meant to be a moderate punch instead resulted in his fist smashing through her skull, straight through her head and out the other side. Blood and bone burst from the wound and Peggy’s body hung limp on his wrist.

Horrified, Steve screamed.

“Peggy!” He shoved the body off him with a cry, looking in horror as his blood-coated arm. Peggy’s remaining eye stared at him accusingly from the ground.

“No…no…no…no…” Steve muttered. He dropped to ground, cradling her body gently in his arms. “I’m so sorry – I –“

He was cut short when Peggy’s damaged face turned towards him, her functioning eye shining with hate.

“Do you get tired of it?” She whispered as Steve was stiff with fear. Her body shuddered, then seemingly melted into through his hands. Layers of skin peeled away, revealing muscle and bone. They dissolved in a mixture of blood and tissue, puddling beneath him.

Panic flooded Steve’s senses as the liquid stained his uniform, making him sickeningly warm. He couldn’t speak, nor scream – his mouth only letting out a hurried breath before the world collapsed beneath him.

Suddenly, he was falling through an endless space, the sky turning a grainy black. Peggy’s blood seemed to grow in volume, coiling around him like a tornado. It reached out like arms, wrapping around his torso and neck. Steve thrashed, but was unable to pull himself free from its grip.

It began to travel over his face, wrapping around his eyes. The metallic scent engulfed his senses, a bile rising in his throat.

He was being tugged in every direction, a sound like thunder booming in his ears.

Steve let out a scream of pure terror.

Chapter Text

The tower was eerily silent despite the amount of Avengers currently occupying its halls. Honestly, it was beginning to irritate Tony, who was so accustomed to the hustle and bustle that occurred when sharing a building with his teammates. Even Thor was dangerously quiet, brought down with the weight of the situation.

“Is there a way where we scour the Earth until we find our friend?” As if summoned by Tony’s thoughts, Thor spoke into the silence as they stared up at the projected screen.

All of the avengers were crowded in the same room, trying to evaluate the situation and locate Steve. Tony had FRIDAY scouring every contact possible, but Hydra weren’t joking when they made themselves untraceable.

“Trust me, I would love to, big guy.” Clint answered for him. He was perched on the armrest, sharpening an arrow. “But I doubt they’re gonna have a building all ready and waiting for us. As soon as we approach, they’ll know.”

“And kill him.” Natasha said quietly. The assassin was resting against a wall, distancing herself from the others as she often did in stressful situations.

“I cannot allow that to happen.” Thor said solemnly.

“We’re not going to.” Tony muttered. He flicked through the data again, but there really wasn’t much to go off. No cameras, no sightings, nothing.

It had already been almost two weeks. Two weeks. Tony had barely slept since the first day. No one else had, either.

One question was still bugging him, something that was pulling at his brain.

“How did they know about the tracker?” Tony murmured to himself. He looked away from the screen, staring down at his hands. He absentmindedly counted the creases and callouses decorating each finger.

You’re getting old, Stark. Tony frowned. Too old to keep your friends safe.

“They managed to find mine when I was being hunted a year ago, remember?” Clint pointed out. Tony did, but he also remembered what he did afterward.

“I know, but I stepped it up since then. They barely give any indication that they are there.” He answered, almost irritably.

Sam entered the room soon after the exchange, carrying several drinks of coffee. He set them down on the table slowly before rubbing his eyes.

“Still got nothing, right?” He asked, collapsing beside Clint. He sipped his drink, giving a low hum.

“What if it was an inside job?” Bucky said softly, though his voice was laced with anger. Tony looked up, sighing.

“Already thought of that. Trust me, too many psychos have already tried to get under my nose, and boy do they stink.” The billionaire reassured. “I’ve already questioned and investigated all staff involved in the process – which weren’t many at all, by the way – and they’re clean.”

“I helped.” Natasha spoke. She was twisting a knife in her hand, it’s light dancing across her face. “No one gets past me.”

“They were saying they were guilty just so she would leave them alone.” Tony added, looking up at Barnes. “Trust me, they’re safe. On temporary leave anyway, just to be sure.”

“But all we’ve been doing is standing around at this damn screen for a week.” Sam pointed out.

“I know –“

“With no progress.”

“I know!” Tony raised his hands in the air, then slammed them back on the table. “I get it!”

“No one’s blaming you, Tony.” Bruce said gently. Somehow, he had managed to stay calm throughout this entire ordeal.

Tony stayed silent, thinking. His eyes were drawn to the number that was flashing before them mockingly.

“We should do it.”

“What? Call them?” Natasha hissed, whilst Clint gave a loud “No!”.

“It’s our only shot!” Tony defended.

“Yeah, doesn’t make it a good one!” Sam argued back. “I’ve seen shit like this happen, and it’s all just a trap –“

“What else are we supposed to do? Wait?!” Tony demanded. He received no answer.

“Look, Steve could be – he could be dying, for all we know, and we are just staring at a screen and coming up with ideas with no solutions!” He burst out. “I can’t let that happen while –“

“I agree.” Bruce said quietly from his seat at the table.

“Why?” Clint stared in disbelief.

“If we can keep them on the line for long enough, we might get a signal. Yes, it won’t be a direct route to their location, but it will give us a clue, right?”

“We could still download voice files if that doesn’t work, at least.” Sam agreed, nodding his head.

“There’s no way they haven’t thought of this.” Bucky warned from the corner. But Tony was already ringing the number, glancing at him briefly.

“Get this rigged up.” He requested, nodding at Bruce. The call was suddenly through a large speaker, echoing through the room.

“Ah, good morning Avengers! Or is it afternoon! It’s more like midday, I suppose.” A voice, thick with German accent, drawled through the room. Bucky stood up instantly, muscles tense. Tony watched out of the corner of his eye as Natasha lay a hand on his shoulder, staring concernedly at his face.

“Cut the shit.” Tony growled. He gave a nod at Bruce, who began rapidly typing on the laptop.

“Now now, don’t be rude.” The Hydra agent teased. “You phoned me, remember?”

“What are you doing with him?” Clint butted in before Tony could swallow his anger to reply. He gritted his teeth as the agent chuckled.

“He’s alive.” Was his short answer.

All of the Avengers were on their feet now, all expressing levels of anger. Only Bruce was somehow staying calm, eyes glued to the computer. The rapid sound of his typing was the only think keeping Tony from blasting the speakers to pieces.

“I called to make the deal.” Tony said, taking a deep breath.

“Oh?”

“Tell me what weapons you need, and I’ll hand them over.” Tony let his business façade slip on quickly, pushing back his emotions. This wasn’t Iron Man talking – this was Tony Stark, businessman, billionaire. He even threw out his hands out of habit, then clapped them firmly. “I just want our Captain, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” The Hydra agent suddenly gave a loud sigh, almost mocking. “Is that why you are trying to trace me right now, hmm?”

Tony froze, eyes widening. Bruce paused from his work, snapping his head up.

“Look, I’m going to ask you once.” Bucky stepped forward with a growl. His eyes were hardened with a cold anger that honestly frightened him.

Heck, this was worse than the Winter Soldier himself staring down at him. This was a pissed off Bucky Barnes.

“Give. Steve. Back.” He hissed. He glared at the speaker as he spoke, clenching his metal fist. But the Hydra agent only laughed.

“I can’t do that, you see – how could I possibly give him to you right now, through this phone?” He replied infuriatingly patronising. “But…I think I can arrange something, yes?”

The line suddenly crackled, before the audio changed to something much more disturbing.

There was a low wail, almost inhuman, being picked up by the speaker, followed by loud and tortuous screams. They kept going, only growing in volume. Tony was visibly knocked down by the awful noise, his legs crumbling under him. His knees stung as they hit the carpet, but the pain didn’t register to him.

The screams were going to haunt him for many nights, he knew. The pain- filled cries were going to keep him awake for weeks, months, years to come.

Because he knew who they were coming from, knew the man that was currently so terrified he couldn’t speak. This was Steve Rogers, his colleague – heck, one of his best and unlikely friends wailing like a wounded animal.

“You BASTARD!” Bucky yelled, slamming his fist against the wall. Tony could see tears glistening in his eyes. He heard a low moan from Clint, a sharp intake of breath from Natasha. Bruce had left the room entirely, while Sam was muttering every death threat possible. Thor was dangerously silent, only the crackle of electricity being heard.

“What are you doing to him?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO HIM?!!” Bucky was yelling. The Hydra agent only laughed.

“He is doing it to himself, nothing to do with me.” he replied easily. “Now, I really must get going.”

The called ended with a click, leaving the Avengers in silence.

“I vow to drag him down to Niflheim with my bare hands.” Thor slammed his hammer to the ground. “Though it will be a mercy after I unleash my wrath upon him.”

“I – I don’t…” Tony murmured, shaking his head. He couldn’t fully articulate his thoughts, they way he desperately wanted to give all of his weapons to Nazis in a second if it meant saving Steve – but he couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t. He had learnt the hard way that his weapons should never be sold to anyone.

“They’ll destroy everything.” Natasha said, reading his thoughts. She took a long breath, wrapping her arms around herself. “We can’t. “

“What can we do?” Bucky muttered. He began to pace as he waved his hands in the air in frustration.

“James –“

“I know these people…I know what they do…I’ve seen it - I’ve done it!” Bucky suddenly stopped, staring up at them with tears glistening in his eyes. “But I’ve never heard anyone…anyone scream like that. No one.”

The words hung heavy in the air for a few minutes. The clocked ticked rhythmically on the wall, a steady beat in Tony’s mind.

“Did we get anything, FRIDAY?” Tony asked quietly. The AI paused.

“I have gathered the audio from the call, but otherwise could not gather any information.” FRIDAY informed. “Shall I run a record scan to see whether security has record of a matching voice?”

“Sure.” Tony murmured.

“Sir, I have found a match.” The AI said after a few minutes of more silence. Tony looked up sharply, standing up.

“What?” He breathed.

“Who?” Clint asked sharply. He was already pulling his bow over his shoulder, grabbing the arrows. “Give me a name.”

“No name is recorded in Stark Tower staff records, but approximately two months ago there was a recording that matches the voice.”

Wordlessly, FRIDAY began to show footage on the screen. Tony watched it carefully with narrowed eyes.

It wasn’t actually in the tower itself, but in one of the warehouses underneath the main structure. He watched as the garage doors opened, two vans pulling through.

“Official transporters. Private service.” Tony explained. He had used them a few times before, always cleared as they were officially SHIELD staff. “They were needed to safely transport some old stuff that we used to the secondary quarters.” He watched as the staff came out of the vans, beginning to take the items. He spotted a few prototype bows, and a few old Captain America –

“Suits!” Tony suddenly yelled, making the others around him jump. “That’s how they must’ve known where the tracker was in Cap’s suit, they –“

“ – had access to one of their own!” Clint finished.

“Shh!” Natasha quietened them as the men began to talk.

“That’s it. Ready to go.” Tony recognised the voice as the same one on the call almost immediately, despite the fake American accent placed over it. “This is all we need.”

The other members quickly moved back into the van, pulling out of the parking area.

“That’s why they aren’t registered in Stark Industries.” Bruce, who had finally calmed himself down, muttered with a thoughtful scowl. “They were never officially listed.”

“FRIDAY, can you hack into every speed camera you can and find out where the fuck those vans went.” Tony asked. The AI was quick to respond.

“I already did as you were watching the clip. The trail follows all the way to a small docking area, where they seemed to have taken a boat.”

“What were the boats being taken out that day, where were they going?” Natasha asked quickly. The AI paused as they waited in tense silence.

“Here is a list of all trips that day.” The screen flickered, showing a long list of locations on screen along with their locations on the map.

“That’s way too many.” Sam murmured as the writing scrolled downwards. “Trying to find a needle in a haystack.”

However, Tony dismissed Sam’s words as he spotted Bucky go pale beside him. He was staring up at the locations, his eyes locked onto one in particular.

“What’s up, Frosty?” Tony asked. Bucky didn’t even acknowledge the nickname, only pointed up slowly at the screen.

“Die Höllenlabore…” the Solider whispered, frozen still.

“What?”

“That’s where they would threaten to take me…when I got too disobedient…they…” Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to kill them. Every last one.”

“You and me both.” Clint muttered darkly.

“So you’re saying that’s where they’re holding Steve?” Sam asked. Bucky nodded, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“I’m certain. This isn’t coincidence.”

“Alright.” Tony sprang up, calling his own suit. It folded around his limbs, before the helmet covered his face entirely. “Quinjet in five.”

Tony let his repulsers light up as his team stood deadly serious around him. They all wore expressions of anger and bloodlust, and Tony was sure he looked the same.

“Let’s go fuck this shit up.”

Chapter Text

Steve was choking on blood, gagging as it poured out of his mouth. It was everywhere, surrounding him like a tornado.

“Don’t fool yourself, Steve.” Peggy’s smooth voice whispered close to his ear. “You will always be nothing.”

“No!” Steve screamed, but he could no longer hear his own voice over the chants that surrounded him as he was helplessly suspended into the air. Voices he knew chanted the same word, like a ghastly wail.

“Nothing!”

“Nothing!”

“Always nothing…”

“Stop…stop!” Steve begged, but nothing acknowledged his pleas.

Suddenly, the trails of blood tore away from his eyes, giving him the gift of sight once more. He snapped his eyes open, staring at the blackened void around him. The voices suddenly stopped chanting, leaving in place one solitary figure.

“Bucky?” Steve whispered, collapsing onto his knees. He didn’t know how much time had passed anymore, but it no longer mattered. Bucky was here, everything would be alright.

“Buck…” Steve crawled closer, until he was a few metres from his oldest friend.

“What did you do, Steve?” Bucky spoke, his voice barely a whisper. Steve didn’t look up at him, but let out a sob.

“Nothing, Buck.” He began to tremble. “I did nothing.”

“Do you remember when we were kids?” Bucky asked. Steve weakly nodded. “And we would look at the stars?”

“In the fields. I had to sneak out every night cos my Ma didn’t want me to get sick by goin’ out so late.” Steve added with a dry chuckle, his Brooklyn accent leaking into his words. Bucky stepped towards him, but Steve still didn’t look up.

“Remember that promise we made?” He asked. Steve nodded slowly.

“That we would always be with each other…that we would never leave each other behind.” He whispered. “Together…”

“You broke it.”

The words sliced into the silence around them. Steve looked up, breath hitching at the sight of Bucky’s skin pealing off his face, blood staining his teeth red. One of his arms was pulled from its socket, white bone sticking out of the wound. His hair was frosted, fingertips black.

“I’m sorry…” Steve murmured. He stood up shakily, noticing that his own skin was also blackened with frostbite. “I tried – I –“

“Not enough.” Bucky’s corpse replied stoically. “You did nothing.”

With those words, the sky literally cracked open and began to rain down upon them. Steve yelled in panic, before trying to tug Bucky’s arm and get him out of the danger. There was a crunch.

He pulled it clean off.

For a moment, he stared in horror at the detached arm, then back up at Bucky. His friend’s eyes are a sickly yellow, rotting with his skin.

“You left me!” He screamed. Steve stumbled back as he continued to yell the same phrase, over and over. The sky suddenly rumbled dangerously, and Steve looked up automatically to find that the stars were crashing down upon them.

“Bucky!” Steve yelled, but Bucky didn’t answer, only yelling the truth over and over again .

“You left me! You broke our promise!” He shrieked.

The stars shatter the ground as they fall, lighting it ablaze in a golden fire. Bucky stood in the centre, slowly being consumed in the flames.

A scream tore from Steve’s throat as the stars continued to fall, piercing into his skin.

“I’m sorry!” Steve yelled, over and over. “I’m sorry!”

~

“ – yeah, we’ll I’m sorry to say that’s not going to work.” Sam’s voice filtered through the com, pulling Tony out of his dark thoughts.

“Hm?” Tony lowered his hand, the glow on his palm dimming. “How?”

“Look to your left.”

Tony quickly looked away from the group of guards he was aiming at, doing as Falcon suggested. With a curse, he found that several more guards had just entered through the tunnel, in two large trucks.

“They know.” Clint’s voice was hard, calculated. A complete opposite of what the archer usually sounded like.

“What?” Tony moved further into the trees, letting himself be obscured by the shade.

“He’s right.” Natasha concluded. “There’s more guards than I can deal with here too.”

“They must’ve realised their mistake.” Bucky added.

“I think we need to move to plan B, then. Send in Hulk and Thor.” Tony ordered.

They were currently scouting the Hydra base that Steve was surely held in, trying to find the most sensible way in. He had chosen to leave Thor and Banner in the jet for the time being, knowing that anger would take over their actions completely and make their stealthy break-in into a massacre. However, his patience was wearing thin – the only thing on his mind was Steve’s screams, on loop.

If they were tripling the guards, so be it. He needed a punching bag anyway.

“If we go barging in through one entrance they’re going to get Steve and whoever was on that phone outta there. We’ll be too late.” Bucky spoke from experience. “I say we have two teams – one to create a distraction, and another to sneak round back and cut that Hydra bastard off before he can squirm out.”

“You know another way in?” Sam asked.

“All Hydra bases are the same. You get used to it when you’ve been their personal assassin for seventy years.” Bucky replied sharply.

“I’ll go with you.” Tony volunteered himself. He was desperate to blast his way into the building and grab his fallen friend, in a true Tony Stark fashion. But that would most likely end in his own demise and torture, so maybe not.

“So will I.” Natasha also said. Tony nodded to himself, locking in on Barnes’ location.

“Coming to you, Barnes. Let’s make this quick.”

“So I am allowed to initiate battle against these villains?” Thor asked. He heard Hulk roar in agreement.

“Do your worst, and more.” Tony gave the all-clear. He heard Clint chuckle darkly over the com before it cut off.

With a slight command, Tony quietly landed beside Bucky, who was crouched in some bushes. Natasha was already beside him, her gun drawn. She looked at him, giving him a small nod. Tony nodded back.

There was a loud roar that rumbled the ground, and Tony took that as their queue to move – at the rate the team would be fighting, they probably only had a few minutes until the Hydra agents had fled.

They crept forwards as one, following the soldier.

Bucky walked for a moment before digging his arm into the foliage. Tony was going to ask what he was planning to do with some dirt, but watched as he flung open a hidden trap door with a grunt.

“Too predictable.” He muttered.

“Good for us.” Tony answered back.

He decided to jump into the blackness first, lighting up his armour as a guide to his two teammates. They followed shortly after him, landing with a quiet thump.

There was only one hallway, coated in metal. Red lights flashed in the distance, sirens blaring.

“We don’t have long.” Natasha advised.

“Almost finished up here.” Sam updated in the speakers. Loud crashes and bangs were picked up by the microphone. “Once Barton is finished playing with them we’ll be right with you.”

“Gotcha.” Tony answered. He turned to Barnes, who was staring down the hall with his fists clenched. “Lead the way.”

~

Nothing was stable. Nothing was right. The stars continued to fall as Steve stared into the flames and at his friend’s rotting corpse, which is somehow still standing despite being engulfed in fire.

He killed him. All because he was a coward and didn’t bother to reach out his hand just that little bit farther.

“Did you even care?” Bucky whispered, but Steve heard it easily.

“I – I - I’m sorry…”

But he knew that wasn’t enough.

~

They turned a corner and burst open the door. The room they’ve ran into is nothing like the dark and empty hall, but rather a sterile lab. The walls are a sickly white, the strong smell of disinfectant making him slightly queasy. Further into the room, there is a strange white box, which has no windows but only a thick metal door.

“You!” Natasha suddenly pounced, a red streak of fury. Tony was initially confused at her sudden anger, but then saw something he missed – a small hidden door, open an inch. The assassin fired her gun, diving into the small room, as Tony and Bucky lunged forward.

Before they could reach her, she pulled out a small man, who was writhing in pain. Tony recognised the man from the security footage –  and so did Bucky, apparently, as he immediately punched the guy in the chest, hard enough to hear the ribs crack beneath.

“Where is he?” Tony pointed his repulsor at the Hydra agent’s head before he could recover, his voice deadly calm. The man looked up at him, chest heaving.

“Begging for his death.” He hissed, a grin stretching on his face. Bucky punched him again, this time in the stomach. Tony fired a warning shot at the ground.

“Look, I don’t think we’re in the mood for games, okay? So just say where our Captain is,  and we might let you die quickly.” The billionaire growled. But the Hydra agent only laughed, blood spurting from his mouth.

“Too far gone…I have to say, he was quite the test subject…” he laughed again, but it was quickly cut off as Natasha shot him in the jaw, making him shriek in pain.

“He wasn’t going to say anything. I thought I’d stop him laughing, at least.” She said with a shrug, her eyes dark as she stared down at him. Tony couldn’t blame her.

“FRIDAY, scan for any traces of Steve Rogers.” He ordered the AI, who lit up his helmet in response.

“I believe he is located in the container beside you, sir.” FRIDAY answered. Bucky immediately ran over to the strange box, gripping the door and pulling.

“Stop!” Tony yelled urgently, repeating what FRIDAY was flashing all over his screen. “There’s a gas in there!”

Bucky paused, though for a moment it looked like it was going to rip the door open anyway.

“My scanners indicate that this gas has unknown, but dangerous effects. Any inhalation will be deadly, but I cannot calculate to what extent.” FRIDAY summarised.

“What about this suit?” Tony asked, staring at the door. “If I quickly grab him and get out – “

“You would have to be quick, sir. This gas can seemingly penetrate this suit with prolonged exposure.”

“That’s not good.” Tony muttered. “But Steve’s in there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Shit.”

“Steve’s in there?” Bucky muttered, going pale.

“Not for much longer.” Tony replied. “I want you to shut that door as soon as I go in, and grab Steve. I’ll give you a signal to open it again. And cover your nose and mouth just in case.”

Bucky nodded stiffly, grabbing the door once again. One of his arms was wrapped around his airways tightly. Natasha was doing the same, though she was still dealing with the Hydra agent.

“Now!” Tony thrusted himself forward, shooting through the small crack of the doorway in under a second. The door slammed shut instantly behind him, leaving him to scan through the gas.

It was a deep purple, almost blue, and clouded every corner of the chamber. Seeing his scanners pick up signs of life in front of him, he strode forward.

“Sir, you have approximately twenty seconds before the gas breaks the suit’s defences.” FRIDAY warned him. Tony didn’t answer, spotting a pale hand through the purple.

“Steve?” Tony quickly grabbed the hand, pulling it towards him. The body of Steve Rogers came into view, almost indistinguishable through the purple gas.

“I got him.” He spoke through the com. The activated his thrusters, holding Steve tightly. “Open the door.”

He moved as fast as he could, mentally apologising to Steve every time he heard him whimper. As soon as they got Steve out of this gas, he would be okay. They would all be okay.

He was out a second after, and Bucky immediately shut the door again. The acceleration made him slide across the floor, holding Steve as tightly as he could to save him from more injury.

“Steve!” Bucky and Natasha ran to their Captain, who still hadn’t moved.

Tony frowned at the lack of response, turning so Steve was lying on his back. Steve remained unresponsive, but his eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Get Banner!” Tony yelled quickly, staring at Steve’s face in panic. “Quickly!”

Steve’s pupils were clouded an unnatural purple, staring blankly in front of him. His breaths were erratic and uneven, and he was silently mouthing something Tony couldn’t make out.

“Steve!” Bucky cried out in fear. The soldier knelt beside his friend, carefully cupping his face. He turned to Tony in alarm. “What’s wrong with him?!”

Tony shook his head mutely.

“I…I don’t know.”

Chapter Text

For a moment, everyone around him was frozen in shock, crowding closer to their soldier. Tony heard Bruce reply after a minute in the earpiece, but the words didn’t register to him.

And then Steve screamed.

Back arched, limbs trembling, he screamed loud and long. Tony let out a curse, frantically pressing himself against Steve to try and restrain him. Bucky was the most unhinged Tony’s ever seen him, almost crying as he tried to rouse his friend from whatever state Hydra put him in. Natasha’s eyes widened, her gaze snapping up from the Hydra agent for the first time since they arrived.

“Steve! What’s wrong?!” Bucky cried out. The soldier’s eyes scanned for any injuries, lifting up his battered top. Tony immediately hissed at the large amount of burns and bruises coating his torso, shaped too unnaturally to be from the battle a few weeks prior. But the injuries weren’t the problem, Tony realised darkly.

Steve stopped screaming, but suddenly began to shift into a sitting position. His eyes were still staring blindly in front of him, right past Tony and his team.

Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

“Bruce!” Tony yelled again, before turning to FRIDAY. “Please tell me you know what’s wrong with him.”

FRIDAY did not. All the AI could do was flash scans of Steve’s vitals, which were all at dangerous levels.

“Steve, it’s me!” Bucky was slowly moving towards the panicked soldier, who was backed against the wall. He had switched back to being almost unresponsive, though his face was twisted in fear and pain.

Not quick enough, Bruce burst through the doors with the rest of the team on his heels. He took one look at the cowering Steve before rushing to his side, opening a first aid kit.

“FRIDAY says he was exposed to a gas.” Tony supplied quickly as Bruce pressed his fingers against Steve’s throat for a few moments, checking his pulse. “It’s something completely new.”

Bruce gave a quick nod, frowning at the lack of response Steve was giving as he examined various areas of his body. The soldier was muttering something rapidly, so fast it was indistinguishable.

“Lie him down.” Bruce ordered quietly. Bucky did so immediately, refusing to let go of Steve’s hand afterward. Tony watched as Bruce turned his focus to Steve’s eyes, prying them open further. The doctor visibly recoiled at the unnatural purple clouding the pupils.

“What the fuck happened?” Clint asked sharply. There was no lingering humour in his voice that Tony had come to expect, but an unwavering anger that he was glad was not aimed at him.

Tony could only shake his head.

“It’s some kind of hallucinogen.” Bruce announced suddenly. He didn’t take his eyes off Steve. “I’ve concluded that he can’t see or hear us right now – whatever Hydra gave him has also gotten past the serum…I don’t…” Bruce turned to them quickly, raking a hand through his curls. “I don’t know when it will stop affecting him.”

“Can we not pull him from this spell?” Thor strode over to stand by Natasha, a frown marring his usually joyful expression. He was gazing down at Steve as he began to mutter once more.

“A regular gas should have not even effected him, with the serum…” Bruce turned his attention back to the restless soldier, gently tapping his cheek. Steve still have no response.

“I’ll try and contact medical.” Sam said into the grim silence. Hydra had purposefully made the island as remote as possible, making it difficult to contact anyone but their immediate team through their earpieces. Even then, the signal would sometimes crack and break entirely for minutes at a time.

“Steve, come on!” Bucky only repeated. Bruce tried to pull him back, but the soldier shrugged off his hand with a deadly growl.

“I’m not leaving –“ Bucky began to argue, but was quickly interrupted by a fist to the jaw. Tony was on defence in an instant, before realising that the fist had actually belonged to –

“Steve!” He yelled, surging forward as the captain stumbled to his feet. His eyes were still glowing purple, breaths fast and panicked. He let out a jumble on nonsensical words, backing against the wall.

The rest of the team immediately ran towards him, but were stopped by Bruce.

“We can’t do anything!” He explained. “Us intervening might make his mental state worse –“

“How can it get worse?!” Sam asked, trying to step towards Steve. Tony watched as his friend let out a cry, holding out his hands in front of him. He was shaking, crying, and terrified – and Tony had to watch.

Because hell, this was Captain America. It wasn’t common to see the national icon unhinged, let alone terrified by seemingly the sight of them. Sam visibly recoiled at the reaction, stepping back behind Clint.

“Fuar...an spéir...na réaltaí…” Steve uttered between gasps. He collapsed against the wall, sliding down the side. All the while he kept his eyes fixed on the space in front of him.

“What did he just say?” Clint asked, still trying to edge closer. Before Tony could ask FRIDAY, however, Bucky sharply answered.

“It’s Irish Gaelic…he said something about cold.” The soldier said through gritted teeth. After fighting himself for a moment, he began to move slowly towards Steve, despite Bruce’s warning.

“Barnes –“ Tony warned, but the glare he received from him was enough for him to shut up and watch.

“Steve…it ain’t real.” Bucky edged quietly towards the Captain, arms outstretched in a peaceful gesture. A Brooklyn accent bled through his words.

Tony could understand – the sight of his friend slowly breaking in front of him made him want to seize the soldier in his arms and forcibly shake whatever drug he was subjected to out of him – but Bruce was right.

Steve was getting more distressed at Bucky’s approach. His purple eyes stared directly at the soldier, but not completely focused. He was uttering small words under his breath, sounding more like pleas.

It made Tony shiver.

“Tá brón orm...tá brón orm mar sin…”  Steve whimpered. His breathing had became erratic, but Bucky kept moving forward.

“Sorry? For what?” Bucky asked. The two soldiers were now only inches apart. Steve didn’t seem to hear Bucky’s question, his muttering slowly turning into cries.

“Le do thoil…ní féidir liom tú a fhágáil arís!” Steve suddenly screamed and slammed his head into the wall behind him with a sickening crack. Tony launched forward at the sight of blood dripping from his friend’s brow, but Barnes was quicker.

In one fluid motion, Bucky dropped to the ground and wrapped his arms around the shaking captain. Tony distantly heard Bruce make a cry of protest, but was more focused on Steve.

Steve reacted instantly, struggling in the hold like a wild animal.

“I’m sorry!” They were the first words Tony had heard him utter in English, and he wished he hadn’t. “Please!”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Punk.” Bucky growled back. In a well-rehearsed movement, he turned Steve so he was pressed against his chest.

“Remember this? Remember what I told you?!” Bucky cried over Steve’s rambling. “Hear this?!”

“I got medical.” Sam’s declaration took Tony’s attention away for a few moments. He turned to Sam quickly, nodding.

“How long?” He asked, trying to tune out Steve’s cries. He couldn’t.

“Fifteen minutes. Fastest they can go.” The Falcon replied. Tony flicked his gaze back to Steve and Bucky, frowning deeper.

“Can we afford to wait that long?” He asked, mostly to himself, as he watched Bucky attempt to soothe the Captain. Bruce was slowly making his way over, trying to remove Barnes from the scene.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to fly with him. Or anyone.” Sam replied. He ran a tired hand down his face. “I just wanna take his ass to medical and burn this place to the ground, but I think he’ll freak out more if I touch him, let alone fly.”

Tony found himself agreeing bitterly. Thor also nodded his head, though saddened.

“I fear the same.” The god was only staring at Steve. He was quiet for a moment. “We must get help, however. His cries distress me so.”

“Listen with me, come on.” Bucky’s voice cut from the other side of the room. Tony turned his head to find that Steve had began to quieten, though his whole body still shook.

“Remember now? When you were sick?” Bucky began to rub circles on Steve’s back with his metal hand, pressing him closer.

Tony was unsure whether Steve had heard Bucky at all, but miraculously he began to calm down.

“The stars…nothing…” Steve whispered. His clouded gaze was still swivelling around the room. “…gone…”

“It ain’t real, Steve.” Bucky paused, then grabbed Steve’s hand and wrapped it in his own. “But this is. Focus on that.”

“Ten minutes.” Sam notified quietly. Tony nodded, watching Steve’s vitals carefully.

“Iz so use…”

Tony span around quickly, eyeing the speaker with disgust.

“Why are you even still alive, or talking for that matter?” He asked the Hydra Agent, who was still breathing, a bullet embedded in his jaw. Blood pooled around him, but he smiled, showing rows of red teeth.

“That’s the beauty of my creation…no peace…” he wheezed, coughing. Clint snarled next to him, and stamped on his hand. The agent didn’t even react.

“What do you mean?” Natasha asked coldly. She pressed a gun against his temple. “Tell us, right now.”

But the Hydra agent only laughed.

“Not one…has survived…” he grinned.

The gun was fired suddenly, and the agent’s eyes rolled back as the bullet caved in his skull with a bang. Natasha was glaring down at the man, her lips curling into a slight snarl.

Tony couldn’t blame her.

“Banner!” Bucky’s panicked cry made him freeze, blood running cold. “Banner!”

His helmet suddenly lit up with warnings and flashes, Steve’s vitals blaring in front of him. He span around, eyes widening at the sight of Steve choking on his own blood. It was spilling out of his nose, mouth, ears and (Tony noticed in horror) his eyes. The Captain was breathing heavily, still repeating the same word under his breath.

“Get out the way!” Bruce ordered, pulling various items out of his large first aid kit. For once, Bucky obeyed, though still stayed as close as he could.

A loud scream tore from Steve’s throat and he began to seize, limbs twitching uncontrollably and muscles straining. Bruce jumped back, then stared down at his watch. Too long he twitched, before going still and quiet.

It was sudden, and for a moment Tony didn’t realise what had happened. The screens in his faceplate all flashed a bright red, but he could barely read what they were saying.

“His heart’s stopped.” Tony whispered, becomes repeating, louder. “His heart’s stopped!”

Chapter Text

One.

Two.

One.

Two.

Tony counted rhythmically as he pressed down, hands folded on top of each other.

One.

Two.

One –

“Come on!” He growled, staring down at Steve’s slack features. He pressed down harder against his chest.

One.

Two.

One.

Two.

“Here!” He heard Clint yell from his right, followed by a flurry of footsteps approaching him. For the briefest moment, the billionaire snapped his head up, catching a glimpse of the white SHIELD Medical uniforms before resuming the compressions. Steve’s face remained still, blood trickling from his parted lips.

“It’s okay, Tony.” The medical team had stopped behind him. Bruce was gently tugging him away. “Let them do their job.”

But Tony couldn’t let go.

One –

“Hey! What are you doing?!” A shout from Barnes made Tony pause momentarily. The stop in rhythm was enough for the medical team to all but shove him out of the way, pulling out various tubes and equipment.

“Don’t touch him!” Barnes snarled, stepping threateningly towards two nurses who held a defibrillator between them. The soldier’s arm was raised, a knife glinting from his fingers.

“Easy, Barnes.” Sam slipped between the soldier and the staff, letting them pass. “They ain’t hurting Steve, they’re helping him.”

Tony stared back towards the fallen captain, breath hitching as his chest was shocked with the defibrillator. His vitals remained still, flashing red in his helmet.

Again and again the medical team tried to revive him. Each turn made Tony slump further and further, the world spinning around him.

The team had gathered towards each other, watching Steve in silence.

“Try again. All the way.” Bruce was with the staff. Tony watched as he gestured to the defibrillator with a shaking hand.

“But sir –“

“He’s a super soldier, don’t forget.” Bruce said sternly. With a uncertain nod, a blond nurse turned the dial to the highest, as another gave the signal.

“Clear.”

Electricity cracked into Steve’s chest, making his back arch and muscles tense. Immediately, the Captain let out a choked gasp.

Tony did fall to the floor, out of pure relief.

“He needs medical, now!” A doctor yelled as they pulled Steve onto a stretcher. Wordlessly, the Avengers followed, determined to never let him out of their sight again.

~

The medical report was horrific.

When Tony first read the extent of the injuries, he felt bile rise sharply in his throat. The words blurred together, through his rage or despair he couldn’t tell.

He was feeling, he knew that much. And he hated it.

Severe nerve damage. Electrical burns. Shocks. Broken bones. The list went on and on, highlighting each part of Steve’s pain whilst they were standing around in the safety of their tower.

And to top it off, it wasn’t even over.

“A what?” Tony had heard, but the ringing in his ears made it hard for him to process anything apart from Steve was suffering because of him.

“A coma. We think it’s from the gas’s chemicals.” Bruce explained quietly. The team stood around him, completely still.

“Why haven’t they been burnt by the serum?” Clint asked tightly. Bruce ran a hand down his face. Tony noticed it looked slightly green at the fingertips. Maybe he would try and get Bruce to take a break later.

“The serum seems to be having a hard time deciding what areas it needs to heal first. Not to mention that it’s effects seemed to have been impacted in the first place by whatever Hydra created.” Bruce explained. “This thing destroyed nearly all his vital organs slowly, until it was almost too late. It seems his body is prioritising those over his mind or the gas.”

“How long?” Barnes asked. It was the first time he spoke properly since the island. Bruce sighed.

“We don’t know. Until then…” he trailed off.

“He’s still having delusions.” Natasha finished grimly.

“I’m sure that company could ease his pain, and perhaps pull him out of this coma.” Thor suggested. Bruce gave a thin smile.

“Any contact could help.”

Thor nodded, straightening.

“Then there is not a moment to lose.” The god strode out of the hall, slipping through the door and into Steve’s room. Tony held back, sliding onto the bench.

“We should see him in shifts. So he’s never alone.” He suggested. The avengers made noises of agreement, before departing themselves. They were still covered in grime and blood from the island, not wanting to change whilst Steve’s life was in immediate danger. Now, reassured that he could at least breathe, they could at least tend to themselves for a few minutes.

Tony’s armour suddenly felt itchy, and he longed to rip it off and change into his more casual attire. He was about to get up to do so until he noticed a certain soldier staring at the door.

“You cleaning up?” Tony asked. Barnes shook his head slowly.

Normally, Tony would leave the interaction at that. He was stressed, tired, and furious at himself beyond belief. He wanted to shut himself in his lab, and design a tracker that could not be pulled from any of their suits ever again. But he also remembered the way Barnes would not remove his eyes from the fallen captain, or the way he embraced him in the hellish lab.

“What were you talking about, back at the island?” Tony suddenly asked. Barnes turned to look at him, expression carefully guarded.

“What?”

“You asked Steve to remember.” He elaborated. Barnes narrowed his eyes, not replying.

They stood in silence, listening to the sounds of the hospital around them. Tony slowly buried himself back into his thoughts, almost forgetting his question until:

“Steve would get sick a lot when we were kids. “ Barnes said, still staring through the glass window on the door.

“Yeah, I heard. Read my Dad’s reports.” Tony muttered.

“Yeah – every winter he would get sick, over and over. If it wasn’t winter it was early spring, when the rain made everything damp. Nothing a man couldn’t shrug off, but Steve…” Barnes grew silent.

“…was weaker?” Tony finished. To his surprise, Barnes shook his head.

“No. Never weaker than anyone. Not his spirit, at least.”

The silence resumed. Tony listened this time, feeling that words would be inappropriate.

Barnes continued. “Every damn winter. And he would get this fever that was so bad he could barely lift his head, and would see demons.” The soldier’s eyes softened. “I remember hugging him, to stop him from thrashing, and letting him listen to my heartbeat. It worked like a treat.”

“So that’s what you tried to do? And it worked, as well…that’s why we need to keep you around.” Tony murmured. Bucky turned to him, breaking eye contact with the door.

“What?”

Tony, too tired to try and filter his mouth, let words tumble.

“You helped find where he was, calmed him down…it’s more than I did, just waiting in my tower like a fucking idiot.”

“You’re lucky Steve ain’t hearing your self pity shit right now.” Bucky said to him. Tony let out an irritated huff.

“Yeah, well –“

“How the fuck were we able to identify the man? Or get to that damn place?” Bucky interrupted. “Cut the crap.”

Tony was speechless for a minute, blinking at the ground.

“Potty mouth…” he was only able to come back with, folding his arms. “Don’t let Steve hear that either.”

To his surprise, Bucky gave him a smile.

“Come on, I was in the army. So was Steve - he’s worse than me.”

Tony scoffed.

“That man hasn’t swore once.” He stated, raising a finger. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Not in English” Bucky actually gave a small, quick chuckle. “I only know so many Irish swears because he curses so damn often.”

Bucky’s smile faded, and he turned his attention back to the window. Tony stood, walking beside him. They both watched as Thor was holding an unconscious Steve’s hand, rubbing his palm.

“He always pulls through.” Tony said quietly. Bucky pressed his hand against the glass.

“I know. It’s just how long until he does. How much he can take when his own mind is fucking him up.” The soldier replied. Tony hummed.

“Well, we have a long list of Avengers willing to sit with him until he wakes up again.” Tony turned to Bucky with a raised brow. “Knowing those guys, I’m willing to bet he’s going to be awake pretty soon.”  

Chapter Text

“…it was a battle that quaked the mountains, going on for days. It was only when I struck the final blow to the leader with the mighty Mjölnir that the battle finally ended in victory.”

Tony was greeted with Thor’s rumbling voice as he stepped into the private room. He cast a glance behind him, making sure that Bucky had definitely taken his advice and went to get a few minutes rest – satisfied to see no one through the window, he made his way further inside.

“You would have loved it, Captain – the taste of victory was sweet that day, something I have seen you accomplish many times.” Thor didn’t look up when Tony moved closer, only staring at Steve’s lax features. Machines hummed and bleeped around him as he slept, dimly displaying his vitals on the small screens.

“Mind if I join?” Tony found himself asking. Something that he would have never done before the avengers, but somehow Steve had managed to weasel his way into his own morality and manners.

Dammit, Steve, Tony mentally huffed, making me look all soft.

Thor still did not look up from the Captain, but gave a warm smile.

“Of course.” He replied quietly, holding Steve’s hand in his own.

Tony sank into the plastic chair, finally free of the amour he had been encased in minutes before. He probably showered the quickest he ever had done in his life, but at least the smell of the lab no longer lingered on his body, no more blood stains marring his chest.

“How is he?” Tony asked into the silence. Thor’s welcoming smile faded, creasing into worry.

“I am not accustomed to this kind of injury, not of the mind.” The god admitted. “So I cannot speak for his mental state – but I am concerned about the other injuries he has sustained.” Thor wordlessly gestured to Steve’s broken body.

In the kindest words he could possibly use, Steve looked like a corpse. Worse than he had been when he had woken from the ice, or after the Chitauri had invaded – it frightened Tony, though he wouldn’t openly admit it. This was a super soldier, almost indestructible, reduced to almost being driven to insanity by his own mind.

Dark shadows hung under his eyes, cheeks sunken in. His skin was pale, dry, and cold, despite the heat rushing into the hospital room. Bruises stained Steve’s skin, running down his torso and back, accompanying the charred skin that he knew lay hidden underneath layers of bandages. They hadn’t even begun to heal, and Tony felt sick thinking how much internal damage was inflicted to cause such a delay.

Steve suddenly furrowed his brow, making both men freeze. However, it relaxed again soon after, as Steve gave a small sigh in his sleep.

“I have never seen him so vulnerable. It’s troubling.” Thor sighed, moving his hand from Steve’s palm to his shoulder. Tony let out a weak laugh, nodding slowly.

“You and me both…”

“Bruce mentioned that he is still suffering in his mind, despite his nature to resist most attacks.” Thor began, still not taking his eyes off the Captain.

“Yeah, he’s still trapped in there, thinking and seeing some shitty things, as far as we can tell.” Tony suddenly felt frustrated all over again, unable to look at Steve any longer. “Unless we can whip up a miracle counter gas – which I am already working on, obviously – it’s one big fucking waiting game.”

Tony let his head drop into his hands, closing his eyes as he listened to Thor’s reply.

“I feel that our Captain deserves the best yet receives the worst too often.” The Prince eventually said into the growing silence. His speech was slow; thoughtful, and lined with a sadness Tony had not encountered in the god before.

“I worry for Steven a lot.” Thor admitted quietly. “It seems like he is a –“

“ – magnet for trouble? Yeah, tell me about it.”

Tony and Thor looked up quickly, finding Bucky standing in the doorway. The soldier was looking cleaner, his hair tied in a messy bun.

Thor smiled, giving a laugh quietly.

“Yes – rather like my brother, actually.” Thor gave a hum. “But without the stabbing. Or the trickery.”

“How is he?” Bucky look a place opposite Thor, on Steve’s right side. Tony watched, almost amused, as the soldier placed a hand on the Captain’s forehead almost instinctively, tilting his face.

When he caught Tony and Thor watching, he rolled his eyes, though didn’t stop his antics.

“Habit.” was the only explanation offered.

Tony, with one last look at Steve, stood from his slouch with a wince. His bones popped as he stretched.

He needed to clean up. Properly clean up, not just stepping in a shower for a minute.

“I assume you’re gonna hog Steve for the next few hours?” Tony asked Bucky, who nodded determinedly.

“I shall retire myself, for a while.” Thor stood too, finally letting go of Steve’s hand. He raked a hand through his knotted hair. “My mind is quite weary from the events we have shared, and I feel I should try and rest.”

“Good idea.” Tony agreed. Thor hadn’t even cleaned up yet, and the billionaire wasn’t about to stop him.

He himself would clean up, he supposed, then begin work on deconstructing the gas and it’s components. He wasn’t an expert in chemicals, and seriously hoped Steve would be out of the coma before he had chance to even begincreating a cure – but he couldn’t be sure, and preferred to prepare for the worst. At least, it could be a help in the future.

“Anthony.” Thor’s voice cut into his inner ramblings, making him look up in surprise. The god was staring down at him softly, his eyes shining with undisguised concern. It felt like he was being x-rayed, which made him squirm guiltily like he was a child about to be told off.

“You need rest like the rest of us.” Thor either ignored or was oblivious to his reaction, clamping a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder. “Do not push yourself beyond your limits in an attempt to fix the tragedy that has befallen on us today. I fear that you feel you are partly to blame, which is not true.” The prince said quietly.

Damn Thor and his uncanny way of knowing exactly what everyone on his team were thinking – especially him. Tony huffed, folding his arms.

“I have the technology at the palm of my hand and I couldn’t even locate him –“ he began to explain, defensive, when Bucky interrupted.

“Not this bullshit again.” Bucky turned to Thor. “I told him that his opinion was wrong, but apparently I didn’t nail it into him enough.”

The soldier looked back down at Steve, giving a huff of laughter. “I’m surprised that Steve hasn’t woken up just to tell you off. He hates it when I blame myself for things too.”

As if rehearsed, Steve shifted slightly, letting out a long sigh. Tony stared at him carefully, but the Captain still did not wake.

“Look.” Bucky said, more quietly as he brushed loose hairs from Steve’s face. “Go back to that fancy tower of yours, and only come back here when you stop thinking like an idiot.”

Tony opened his mouth again to speak, but closed it again with a snap. It was really beginning to irritate him how the soldier could argue him into silence.

However, he found that a slight weight had been lifted from his lungs, making it a little easier to breathe. Still, he scowled at Bucky, pointing furiously at his chest.

“You’re annoying. I liked you better when you hid behind Steve for a solid month.” He finally retorted.

Bucky rolled his eyes, smile twitching on his lips. Thor, naturally, chuckled quietly.

“Fuck off, Stark. Go shower before you stink out the entire room.” Bucky answered back. Thor pushed him towards the exit gently as he muttered angrily under his breath about how he did not stink that bad, he gave himself a good thirty seconds in the shower earlier –

Thor shut the door behind them, placing a hand on his shoulder once more.

“I shall return with you. I would like to rest at your tower, if that is alright.” The prince asked. Tony couldn’t help but roll his eyes, raising a brow.

“It’s our tower, okay? You don’t have to ask.” He couldn’t help but say. He looked up to find Thor practically beaming for the first time in over two weeks, slapping Tony on the back hard enough to make him stumble with a yelp.

“Then I shall prepare a feast of pop tarts to restore my energy before visiting our friend again!” The god had seemingly gained him more typical positive attitude, despite Steve’s less-than-desired situation. Still, Tony couldn’t help but give a small, exasperated smile.

“Just don’t destroy the microwave again. I’m a billionaire, but the repair bill on those machines alone is getting ridiculous.”

~

Bucky had been sitting Steve for a few hours when he first displayed signs of distress.

The doctor, Banner (who had insisted on being called Bruce, but Bucky didn’t know whether he had earned that right yet) had warned them all of this eventually happening, as the hallucinogen was still in his system until his body was more stable. It made Bucky’s skin crawl, and hoped he wouldn’t have to see its effects ever again.

It was barely noticeable at first. Bucky – feeling more complete than he had done in a while, with Steve resting peacefully at his side – was dozing in his chair, as close to Steve’s bed as possible. In his mind, memories were being pulled together from their fragmented pieces. He remembered Steve being sick far too many times, leading to situations similar to this one. Way too similar – Steve had a knack of getting himself in the worst places possible, making him have a heart attack every other week.

Bucky only looked at Steve when his breath hitched. The soldier quickly snapped his head up staring intently at his friend’s delicate expression. It was then he saw a tear spill from his closed eyelid, running down his jaw and sinking into the pillow underneath him.

“Steve?” Bucky asked quietly. He reached out, running a thumb over the tear track. His skin was cold under his touch, making him frown.

“Can you hear me?” He murmured. Steve’s heart rate picked up, but he gave no answer.

Following the first, more tears suddenly spilled from Steve’s closed eyes, steadily growing in numbers. His friend’s face stayed disturbingly lax, but they continued to fall with seemingly no end.

“Steve!” Bucky said, louder. Steve remained trapped in the influence of the hallucinogen, deaf to his words.

It was then, almost on instinct, Bucky began to slowly climb into the bed, kicking off his shoes. He was instantly reminded of his days in Brooklyn, where Steve was so sick he couldn’t even tell what was real anymore. Bucky would climb into his bed, holding him tightly as he shivered, attempting to force his presence into Steve’s jumbled mind.

He did the same as he had done all those years ago, carefully shifting Steve to the side to make room for them both. It was the closest Bucky has been to Steve ever since becoming the Winter Soldier; Steve’s body felt like porcelain, and he was scared at what he would do.

He had killed with the very hands he was trying to soothe Steve with – the thought almost made him lurch out of the bed, but stopped himself at seeing tears continue to run down Steve’s cheeks.

He trusts me, even now. Bucky thought, hesitating. Maybe I can trust myself, then.

Bucky let himself pull Steve close, until he was certain he could hear his heartbeat.

“It’s okay, punk.” Bucky said quietly. It was like they were kids again, sleeping under the stars of Brooklyn. “You gotta trust me.”

After a few minutes, Steve began to relax, to Bucky’s relief and surprise. Though he could still hear his heat beating too fast for his liking, the tears had thankfully stopped. Steve’s expression was dauntingly lax, but the soldier would pick it any day over the one he had just experienced.

He wasn’t willing to let go, not quite yet. Bucky relaxed his body, letting his head rest a few inches opposite Steve’s.

He heard the door creek open, and opened an eye to see Sam standing in the doorway, raising a brow. He let out a small growl.

“Shut up.” He warned, “Or I’ll nail you to the door.”

Chapter Text

Tony didn’t realise that the hospital room was occupied until something shifted when he opened the door to resume his watch once more.

It had been days – how many Tony couldn’t remember, but enough to make his brain ache – since they had taken Steve from the island. It became natural to see one or more Avengers outside the captain’s hospital room, or sitting on his bedside.

“You know, if I hadn’t known you long enough, I would’ve thought you were going to kill me.” Tony huffed, shutting the door quietly. He stared at the apparent intruder. “You didn’t even give a greeting, how rude.”

Natasha smiled for a few seconds, rolling her eyes. She was folded on a chair beside Steve’s head, slowly plaiting his hair. It was getting quite long, almost past his chin, the serum apparently deciding that hair growth was more necessary than healing.

Well, to Tony it was anyway.

“You did the same yourself.”

“What?”

“Not give a “proper” greeting.” The assassin raised a brow. “You didn’t say hello.”

“Because you scared me!” Tony folded his arms, sitting in the seat beside her. “I had every right to be spooked enough not to give a greeting!”

Natasha rolled her eyes again, pausing from the plaiting of Steve’s hair.

“Scared of a helpless woman, Stark?” She teased, a smile threading on her lips.

Helpless. Yeah right.

Tony expressed his thoughts as such with a snort of laughter.

“Sometimes I think Thor is more helpless than you.” He retorted.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Tony watching Natasha plait Steve’s hair some more. The assassin’s gaze softened on the younger’s face, her thumb lightly tracing his jawline.

Steve suddenly shifted, letting out a stream of mutterings as his eyes twitched. Natasha didn’t stop her actions, but began to talk to him in a low, soothing voice.

“It is alright, братан.” She told him. Steve stilled at her words almost instantly, though he did still twitch occasionally. Natasha looked up at Tony slowly once he quietened.

If there was a sheen of tears reflecting in her eyes, Tony didn’t mention it, nor did he look when she wiped them delicately with the back of her finger.

“It has been happening every so often for the past few hours. Started a little past midnight, growing in severity.” Natasha explained. Tony gave a hum of acknowledgment, biting the edge of his nail as he thought.

“Do you think he’s waking up? You know, slowly.” The billionaire asked to no one in particular. It was a fair assumption, seeing that most of his wounds were healing nicely. Still, he had hoped that the effects of the gas would have been thoroughly destroyed by the serum, but he supposed he couldn’t be correct all of the time.

He decided to talk to Bruce later, his mind oh so helpfully persuading him to by forcing him to recall long term effects of gas and hallucinogens.

“I don’t know.” Natasha said softly. Her hands finished the final plait, leaving Steve’s hair carefully braided and organised.

Cap will like it, Tony randomly thought, looking at the style. If he wakes up soon.

He shut of his mind the best he could after the thought, because god he really hated how it killed the mood sometimes.

He was tired, trying all night to design a new set of suits for the team (but mostly and foremost Steve’s). He couldn’t trust his old tech at all, if Steve was captured right under their noses, and began an entirely new project.

He still hadn’t finished, still seeing too many flaws with his products. Heck, the only reason he wasn’t continuing now was because FRIDAY locked him out of the lab after he went to use the bathroom.

He was still pissed that he allowed his AI to have enough personality to do that.

“Sam said he was quiet with him, only a few movements.” Natasha continued. “Said that it was strange, and I think I agree.”

“What? Cap being so still?” Tony could see what she meant. It was odd seeing someone so active forced into a bed, stuck in his own mind.

“I’ve done a lot worse in my life that is a perfect excuse for suffering.” The assassin spoke quietly. “But somehow…”

She leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to Steve’s forehead.

“…I cannot take the suffering away from him. It is never me.” Widow stood, giving Tony a short nod.

“Rest well, братан.” She said quietly to the young captain, before silently leaving the room. Tony watched her go, leaning back in his chair loosely. He let his eyes close almost involuntarily, before snapping them open again. He was not letting his fucked up brain sleep whilst he was with Steve. No way.

Then why was it so hard to keep his stupid eyes open?

“Probably working all night like a fucking idiot.” Tony heard Clint say from the doorway, not even a minute after Natasha left.

Huh. He hadn’t realised he said that out loud.

“Ha ha. I’ve never heard that one before.” Tony replied, snarky.

“Nat told me you looked like you had been hitting your head against a table for an hour. Not her words, of course, but I got the message.” Clint sat himself into Natasha’s seat previously. He smiled at the braids in Steve’s hair before turning his attention back to him.

“Sleep.” Clint ordered firmly. “Seriously, your sarcasm goes to dangerous levels the longer you’ve been awake. I’m not ready to deal with that shit.”

Tony wanted to mock him in a high pitched voice, or at least insult him, but found he really couldn’t be bothered.

“I’ll wake you if anything happens.” Clint added, as if reading his mind. Tony gave a small eye roll, but found himself sinking into his chair – which has suddenly became very cosy.

“Birdbrain.” Tony muttered irritably, before his eyes closed.

~

“Holy shit! Steve!”

The cry jolted Tony from his light slumber, rocking back in his chair and almost toppling it backward completely. His eyes quickly fell to Steve’s bedside, only to find an empty mattress and torn sheets.

“Steve!”

The billionaire snapped his head towards the panicked yell from Clint, and cursed loudly.

Steve was awake, which would usually be good – heck, great news – apart from the fact that the soldier had Clint pinned against a wall, hard enough to make the plaster crumble and scatter like snow around them. The archer was trying to struggle out of Steve’s grip, but was only causing more bruises on his skin.

“FRIDAY, alert the Avengers of the situation – especially Bucky, he speaks Steve.” Tony spoke into his watch, before turning his attention to the said situation.

“Steve?” The billionaire began. He raised his hands hesitantly, tilting his head when the captain didn’t respond.

Clint’s breaths were slowly growing shallower, and he let out a groan as Steve pressed harder. A crunching sound made Tony freeze, but he really didn’t want to dwell on what bone had exactly broken in Clint.

“Come on, look at me.” Tony, in an attempt to soothe the soldier, pressed a hand on his shoulder.

And he really, really, really shouldn’t have done that.

He was very willing to admit that he fucked up majorly when Clint was promptly thrown at him, slamming into his chest. Both avengers crashed into the opposite wall, Steve feverishly staring down at them.

Immediately, the unnatural purple hue shone in Steve’s eyes – however, he noted hopefully, the purple was significantly smaller, localised to his pupil rather than the entire eye.

So, the super Nazi drugs were fading, Tony could deal with that.

Despite his distress, the billionaire also noticed that Steve seemed aware of the things and people around him, unlike last time, where he remained still. Good news in the long run, sure.

But that also meant that Steve was now aware of a lot of makeshift weapons. And man, could he make a weapon out of anything, Tony realised as a notepad was thrown at him hard enough to embed into the wall behind him.

“He woke up and freaked out.” Clint muttered from beside him. They ducked another flying object, which shattered above their heads.

“He doesn’t mean it.” Clint shook his head almost feverishly. “Look at him…”

Tony dragged the injured archer over to the hospital bed as cover, grabbing half of a snapped IV pole as protection.

Poking his head up from their cover, Tony could already see what Clint had tried to tell him. Steve’s fighting was sloppy – no, desperate – and his eyes were constantly searching around him blindly.

“Where is he?!” Steve suddenly roared. With a swift movement, he flung the bed out of the way with a single hand. Tony let out a loud curse, attempting to press himself and the now unconscious Clint into the corner.

“Who?” Tony asked. He looked at his watch, realising that only a minute had passed. He wasn’t sure how long it would take the other Avengers to get to the room, so he naturally was stalling time.

“Bucky.” Steve growled. His hand reached out, grabbing Tony by the scruff and hauling him into the air.

“What?” Tony fought to stay calm. Steve’s gaze was seemingly looking past him.

“Bucky Barnes. I know Hydra has him – I know he’s here!” The Captain slammed him against the wall, making Tony choke. “Tell me!”

“Steve – I don’t – Bucky –“

“Don’t call him that!” Steve snarled suddenly, breathing heavily. “You have no right to call him Bucky, you bastard! Tell me where he is or I’ll tear out your throat with my bare hands!” Steve’s yells came out more desperate, and Tony could feel his hand trembling as he held him tight.

Still, distressed or not, the man was threatening to tear out his fucking throat. Steve clearly didn’t recognise Tony – or anyone – and only now he truly realised how much danger he was in. In the right mood, Steve could punch through someone’s stomach, thanks to the serum. Tearing out a throat with his hands really didn’t sound like a stretch for him.

“Steve, Bucky’s –“

“Steve. At ease.”

Steve’s head turned sharply to the new voice, but his grip on Tony’s shirt remained. Tony let out a huffed laugh of relief at spotting the other Avengers standing at the hospital door.

Sam was in front of the group, Thor and Bucky hovering beside him like bodyguards. Natasha was quietly trying to sneak Bruce into the room, helping the scientist get a better assessment. Unfortunately, Steve noticed, and growled loud enough to make even the Widow freeze.

“Hey. It’s us.” Sam remained talking to him, voice calm and steady. He held his hands in a peaceful gesture. “You remember us?”

Steve just furiously shook his head, eyes unseeing.

“Hydra – Bucky! Where is Bucky!” With the shout, Tony felt himself get slammed into the ground, making pain explode in his ribs. He wheezed, attempting to just wiggle himself away from the volatile Captain, but a foot pressed against his back, hard and unrelenting.

“I’m here, Steve.” Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Bucky push himself through the crowd. Unlike the other Avengers, his stance was not fearful or tense – he was casually walking towards him, as if he didn’t have Tony pinned under him, or Clint bleeding to his side.

“Buck?” The reaction was instantaneous. Steve’s foot was removed from Tony’s back, his voice now quiet and vulnerable. Tony wasted no time in dragging himself as far away as possible, happily taking Natasha’s hand to be pulled to his feet.

“Clint…” Natasha whispered close to his ear. Wordlessly, Tony nodded his head towards the crack in the wall.

Bruce, after paling at the sight of the wall’s damage and guessing what had happened, attempted to get close to the archer.

Which apparently was one of the worst decisions he could have made, as Steve was suddenly charging towards him at the sight of movement.

Oh fuck, Tony quickly thought, because it did not look like Bruce would survive a charging, pissed soldier, but Bucky quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled him away.

“Steve. It’s alright.” Bucky held Steve’s shoulders. Steve just shook his head again.

“Hydra…got you…can’t…” Steve muttered, shaking his head again. Tony watched as the captain suddenly tugged Bucky towards the door, almost frantically.

“We gotta go, Buck! We gotta get you out!”

“No – Steve! Listen!”

But Steve didn’t, and Tony watched as Thor stepped in his path, shoulders squared.

“Whatever plagues you mind, Captain, is far from the truth. We are your teammates, and friends.” Thor’s voice rumbled. Steve just stared at him for a few seconds, before attempting to move him out of the way.

The two met in a way that reminded Tony of two bears wrestling, only one of them was a literal god. Apparently, Steve didn’t know or didn’t care, as he seemed to think he could get past, and certainly tried.

“Steven, please.” Thor attempted to reason, but Steve didn’t hear him.

“We need to get outta here…I won’t stop…” the Captain only mumbled.

Tony watched until he could no longer stand it; massaging his ribs, he gestured the other Avengers forward.

“Let’s try and snap him out of it, come on.” He said. Cautiously, they approached the two.

Thor, frowning deeply, suddenly pulled Steve into a hug, completely immobilising him. Of course, the captain didn’t like it, but really couldn’t stop it.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky…” Steve mumbled. “I gotta –“

“Steve, what do you see?” Bruce asked gently. Steve suddenly stopped, turning to look at him.

“Huh?”

Better than attacking him, Tony thought. He noticed, as Steve’s gaze moved to his own, the purple hue in his eyes was a lot less prominent.

Good. Tony was getting frustrated at how long it was taking to have their Captain back.

“Bruce?” Steve asked quietly, and it literally took all of Tony’s willpower (and a few broken ribs) to refrain from jumping into the air like a child, screaming fucking finally.

“Yeah, Steve. Can you tell us where we are?” Bruce pressed, giving a small smile.

Apparently, the recognition of Bruce was enough for Natasha to leap over to Clint, rolling him onto his back with a frown. Tony switched his attention back to Steve – he had seen the archer jump off a building and come back holding a hot dog, so he was fairly confident it wouldn’t be too life threatening for him.

Steve was staring around him, becoming more distressed as he looked around.

“Snow…ice…” he whispered. Bucky surged forward at the words, holding Steve tightly.

“No, Steve. We ain’t back there again.” Bucky tried to say. Giving a meaningful glance at Tony and Bruce, he began to guide the Captain to the place where the bed should have been.

“You’ll feel better after you rest a little, right?” Bucky said.

“Cold.” Steve replied. He was shivering. “Cold.”

Tony quickly joined in.

“We can get you wrapped up, don’t let that bother you.” He gestured to the overturned bed. “Thor, if you mind…”

“Of course.” Thor strode forward, easily grabbing the bed with one hand and placing back to its original position. Bruce grabbed the sheets, gently placing them on the bed.

Bucky lowered Steve onto the mattress, who was still muttering under his breath, then moved to give him space. The Captain suddenly grasped Bucky’s hand, his eyes flicking around the room.

“Don’t –“ he cut off, but the plea was the last straw for Tony.

“That’s it –  we’re staying right here, agreed?” Tony asked around the room. All Avengers nodded immediately – even Clint, who had slowly come to and now had Bruce checking him over.

“Don’t want you freaking out again, Cap.” Tony added, his softer tone surprising him.

He wasn’t sure whether Steve was truly seeing him, but he nodded slowly, letting his body relax as he was bundled into more sheets by Bucky.

All Avengers moved closer as one; Thor was sat on the floor, Tony leaning against the wall, Bucky and Clint taking the two chairs, Bruce and Natasha kneeling beside Clint as Sam moved to the door.

“Looks like we’re gonna need more chairs.” The Falcon said with a smile.

Chapter Text

It was a deep pain in his chest that pulled him slowly into the blinding lights and bustling sounds, an ache that seemed to pulse through his body until his toes curled and his fists clenched. The sounds were no longer whispers of twisting anxieties and fears, but rather the louder buzz from the outer, real world.

It was this conclusion alone that persuaded Steve to open his eyes, for the first time he could remember.

His body tensed, his breath hitched, and his fingernails dug into the ground beneath him as he braced himself for the newest horror, the wrenching heartbreak and danger he had found himself trapped him for, as long as he could tell, his entire damn life.

It threw him out of the loop (he almost smiled when recalled Bucky saying that to him so often in their youth, but Bucky was dead), therefore, to find that nothing greeted him but the stillness of a hospital room.

Steve felt like he was teetering at the edge of a cliff, where a small breeze could make him fall indefinitely, unaware of anything beyond his immediate senses – his mind was tired, confused, and delicate, like porcelain. He let his eyes flutter shut, because it hurt, goddammit. Instead, he wondered what he must have done to receive such peace. Steve Rogers did not live in peace, or not that he could remember.

There were no screams, no enemies trying to steal his only loved ones away, no betrayals, rejections, corpses, ghosts – the list went on and on in his head, unable to end.

The ache was fading, but he felt worn and overused. He needed to be repaired, he thought idly, before almost grinning at the image of Tony Stark trying to do just that.

They were dead, they were gone, all because of him, how dare he –

“Steve!” A relieved cry said from his left, but it sounded like it came from far away, muffled as if he were still underwater, getting frozen by the damned ocean. Which was a very big possibility, Steve realised. Because the voice sounded just like Bucky, and Bucky was dead. Gone.

Still, instinctively, Steve opened his eyes with great effort, almost giving up half way through.

Is this what Atlas feels, with such weight of the sky upon him? Steve thought tiredly. He remembered distantly a god of great thunder telling him the tale, a tale that left him reeling.

Opening his eyes may have been a great feat, but Steve did so anyway. He always did, despite it often resulting in the worst.

Bucky’s brown orbs immediately were the first thing to be seen, shining with worry. And God, it felt so familiar, so real, that Steve hopefully wondered whether it was really him.

The possibility of Bucky being alive and safe, however, made him want to cry. Fuck, he was close to actually crying - his mind was in a state of disrepair, and he hated it.

Bucky was dead. He had seen him fall, watched as Hydra destroyed him, witnessed his mutilated corpse drag itself towards him as he screamed.

He, Steve Rogers, knew that Bucky was beyond dead, all because of him.

“Stevie?” The voice, Not-Bucky, was beginning to sound unsure. Steve didn’t want to answer, not that he was sure he could have anyway; his throat was dry, rubbed raw.

There was a hand suddenly on his shoulder, and for a moment all Steve saw was blackened, frosted finger tips, digging into his skin. The image flickered and died, but Steve had already moved, rocking back so far in his bed it scraped across the floor.

“N-n-“ Words could not form, jumbled groans sounding from his lips as he watched Bucky’s face fall at his violent flinch.

Why? He should hate me. Steve was confused, unable to understand anything. Bucky is dead.

“Steve?” Not-Bucky tried again, his voice soft enough to make Steve’s heart slow, even just a little.

“Is he…with it?” Another voice joined in, and suddenly there was talking everywhere, making his head throb. All noises merged into one long hum, making the room spin.

There was no screaming. Why was there no screaming?

Steve closed his eyes in fear that he would burst into tears, letting his body fall slowly back into unfeeling. It was better, he knew, if he stayed this way, blissfully unaware of the ice closing in around him, making him numb.

“He’s shivering.” A gentle voice said from the fray of noises, making the world still. It sounded like Peggy.

“Steve? Can you hear me?” Not-Bucky was trying to talk to him again. Steve didn’t want to open his eyes, not ever again. If he did, he knew he would see more horrors the world left for him.

“Can you open your eyes for me, Steve?” Someone asked quietly – Bruce, Steve’s mind managed to recognise – but Steve barely heard him over the roaring in his ears.

The deep pain was back, and it was almost a relief to him; this is what he understood, what he was used to. He could deal with pain. And maybe, maybe it would get so bad that he would forget that he was drowning, freezing slowly, trapped in an eternal hell.

A certain fact crossed his mind, and that spanned into a few more.

Bucky was dead, forever haunting Steve. The Avengers – if they were even real – did not like him, did not need him, and left him to drown.

So why was Bruce being so gentle?

He hadn’t even known that hands were tracing his face, calloused fingers pausing just under his eyes.

“Come on, Steve. Just for a moment.” Not-Bruce murmured, and Steve let out a choked gasp at how real it felt. But that was impossible, he knew that, despite his desperate wishing.

Still, his eyes were opening on their own accord apparently. Steve felt strangely detached from his body as they did so, his mind straying away from the images that flooded his vision. His glazed eyes watched the ceiling carefully, and he swore he saw a sky full of stars for just a second, like he had done in Brooklyn.

Life, he found, was mocking him, showing things unreachable, untouchable. His addled brain scrambled to make sense of it all, but Steve would much rather have it shut down, never to bother him again.

“Hold still, that’s it…” a voice murmured before a blinding light was shone in his eyes. Its white beam pierced into Steve’s skull, striking pain into its centre. Steve’s throat let out a animalistic sound of protest, his body automatically flinging out a frantic hand to slap away the source. His cold fingers connected, slamming the small torch into the wall like a dart.

“Well, he’s aware, I suppose.” Someone said to his right, but Steve was loosing his marginal grip on focus. He let his body collapse in a boneless heap, feeling more hands catch him before he fell.

“Slow down there, man.” Sam, possibly, said, slowly lowering him.

It was then, Steve noticed with more strange numbness, that all the Avengers were surrounding him, staring at him with wide eyes. Too many goddamn eyes.

God, he wished this torture would stop, and he would find himself back in the ice all over again. At least, then, he would feel nothing.

Everything was slipping, leaking out of his ears like trickling water. Why was his mind torturing him, to this extent? Hadn’t he had enough? Why couldn’t he just die in peace, in a frozen wasteland?

Bucky was dead. The Avengers did not need him, never existed, murdered by his own fucking hands –

“Something’s wrong.” Imaginary-Clint said. The voice was enough for Steve, who dragged his hands across his face as he let out a low moan. He didn’t know what else to do.

He had watched, so many times, as they bled before him, or left him to die –

There were more sounds, so many sounds, but Steve couldn’t comprehend any of them, only knowing the crushing feeling of fear.

Again, Atlas sprung to mind, but he was hardly holding up the sky, only his own sanity, it seemed. Through the gaps of his fingers, he could see the fake team rushing towards him, all talking with no sound coming out of their mouths.

In a deprived, inappropriate way, it looked amusing to see their lips move silently. All at once, he remembered that his Ma did the same when he was a child, making strange faces to make him laugh as he lay sick in bed. He laughed at the memory, burying his head into his hands as he let the sound grow in volume.

“What the fuck?” Someone said when the sounds grew silent. Steve found himself agreeing, because what the fuck was he right now?

It was cold, so cold, and he was drowning still. Nothing had changed.

Bucky was dead.

So were the Avengers, if they even existed at all.

He saw their corpses crawl towards him. Saw them bleeding as he remained frozen. And now, they were alive, and well? Steve had finally cracked.

“What’s wrong with him?” Peggy – or Natasha – or nobody – asked into the silence that had suddenly embraced him. Steve shut his eyes, blocking out their faces for good, and tried to pull himself together. But his mind kept unravelling, apparently having experienced too much.

Steve wondered whether, if he opened his eyes again, he would find himself in the ice.