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“You sure he’s in there?”
“Yes.” Sam kept his gaze trained on the building in front of him, hoping his voice betrayed none of the worry and fear currently tying his stomach into one big knot. Torres was nervous enough as it was. No need to add onto it.“Shuri tracked his arm to these coordinates.”
“Are you sure his arm is still...attached?”
“Vibranium is a hard thing to remove.”
Which wasn’t really an answer.
“Flesh and bone aren’t. Even for a supersoldier.”
Sam knew that all too well, the images from Hydra’s files and computers were now cycling through his head curling his hands into tight fists for all of second before loosening, trying not let his anger overshadow his better sense. Not with what was at stake.
Redwing beeped in confirmation.
“The security’s down. We don’t have much time.”
…
The number of men at the base had suggested the they were guarding something of importance but they cleared room after room and there was no sign of Bucky. No sign of anything capable of holding a supersoldier or the Winter Soldier and Torres’s earlier worries about Bucky being separated from his arm kept playing over and over and over again, the images growing gradually more graphic.
If he found Bucky like that all because they wanted the fucking arm, Sam might just loose it.
Then they reached the last door and Sam slammed the shield into the PIN pad in an explosion of sparks, long having lost the patience of having Redwing hack it, and froze in the doorway when he saw what the room contained.
A crude metal cage. A crumpled nude form curled onto its side.
Sam returned the shield to his back and crouched down, cataloging every healing cut and bruise with a surprising amount of calm, his relief overshadowing his anger at those who’d done this to his partner...at least for the moment. “Bucky...”
That dark head lifted, revealing haunted eyes and sharp smile, “Hey, Cap.”
Sam returned the smile, “Ready to get out of here?”
“Yeah...” he shifted his body into a hunched over sitting position, expression twisting into a grimace, “Looks like you’ll hafta do all the work. My arm is...out of commission at the moment.”
Sam glanced at the arm in question, hanging limply at his side save for a few minute twitches of his fingers, finding the deep electrical burns surrounding the point where vibranium met flesh; two-pronged like a cattle prod.
The amount of electricity needed to disrupt the connection would cause nothing short of severe nerve damage and Sam knew better than to ask for any details on what had occurred, taking out the shield and hacking at the chains until they clattered to the floor.
He opened the door and slipped inside, helping Bucky up to his feet, snagging the discarded black clothing on the floor and getting his friend into some pants before they turned and began the arduous process of getting them out of the building.
Torres landed next to them as soon as they exited, wings folding in, and wisely made no comment on Bucky’s injuries, merely slipping in on Bucky’s other side, taking some of the strain off Sam. “Let’s get you home, Sergeant.”
Bucky gave the man a small smile, “Thanks for the assist, kid.”
Torres seemed to fighting off a ridiculous grin, “Who could say no to Captain America?”
Sam rolled his eyes, but chuckled. “Bucky. All the time.”
Bucky grinned.