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Steve had found Bucky’s body in the snow, carrying him back to camp where they did have to amputate Bucky’s arm. And when it’s time to take out Schmidt, Bucky stubbornly demands to be on Steve’s six.
He’s the one in the plane disabling the bomb droppings, as Steve takes the pilots out. He’s the one that holds tight to Steve as Schmidt is taken over by the power of the glowing cube. And he’s the one that volunteers to stay behind to crash the plane. He’s fallen once, he smiles grimly. It’s easier the second time, he reasons. Steve’s jaw is set, and even though the woman Bucky knows he loves is trying to get them both out of the plane, Steve won’t let his arm drop from where it holds Bucky close to him.
They go down in the plane together, Steve curled over Bucky as a human shield.
Then HYDRA finds them, still sinking into the frigid waters. They take Steve, leaving Bucky behind. Who needs a one armed failure when you can take the All-American Hero himself? Besides, Zola’s pet would be dead soon anyway.
But he lives. He lives, and they find him in the future. Oh, he wasn’t supposed to survive. He wasn’t supposed to be the one who lives- and where is Steve? All that was left was his shield, tucked under him, and a gaping hole in the side of the plane. They told him Steve might have been sucked out the side, lost to the sea.
Once again, the sea separated them.
When he met Howard Stark’s son- the energized, snarky inventor with the glowing heart– Tony promised him that he would be whole again.
But how could he be whole without his heart?
When Fury asked him to pick up the shield- what could he do but say yes? He had his metal arm to pick himself up and hold that shield steady. There was no challenge in the enemies he faced- he was calm, steady, undistracted. He had nothing to lose anymore.
He and Natasha became good friends. He went to the opening of the Captain America exhibit in DC. He laughed at the mistakes, he longed for his old peacoat. But it wasn’t his anymore. It was from before. He was in the now.
He met Sam. They bonded over their common loss. Sam had lost his partner in the sky, Bucky has lost his to the sea. Both had flown with wings that couldn’t last forever.
He and Barton barely spoke, but Bucky never felt closer in way of thinking as Barton. Both of them were marksmen, permanently squinting and never shaking. Not in decisions that lay between the crosshairs.
Bucky’s code name was the Winter Soldier, but he took up the stars and stripes uniform. Whatever made people like that agent feel good. He knew he didn’t deserve the title of Captain America. Only Natasha could understand the feeling of permanent red on his hands. Captain America didn’t have to do the dirty work, because his Winter Soldier wouldn’t let him.
Then Fury was shot. Bucky saw the shooter on the rooftop dressed like a- what did Barton call them? A ninja?
He was fast. Too fast. Bucky got chills. Finally. Someone to make him run.
Natasha said he’s called the Red Star. A soviet slug-shooting assassin. Bucky could hear a familiar voice in his ear, “Sounds like fun. You’ll get him on the ropes.” He shook his head and returned to cold embrace of the present.
Then under the bridge-- when the Red Star caught the shield and something was triggered in Bucky’s memory. He fought with him, ripping the mask off to find the bleeding face of the boy he rescued in an alleyway over 70 years ago.
“Steve?”
The Red Star’s blue eyes widened and his mouth opened. One of his hands went toward his neck while the other pulled the trigger on his gun.
Bucky raised the shield to block the bullet, and when he looked up, the Red– no, Steve was gone.
Flash to the vault, where underneath the old hero was bubbling to the surface. “The man on the bridge. I knew him.” A shock rippled through him. “He’s my-” More volts, making his neck burn but his voice box would heal. Eventually. They wiped him, once again. When he woke they said the line:
“Your family is under our care. You do this for us, you let us change history, you see them again. We promise. You are the guiding star. Our Red Star.”
Bucky broke into the Triskelion with Sam and Maria Hill, trying to channel his memory of Cap’s rousing words.
“I’m not gonna give some speech– that was more Cap’s speed. But if you believe in what Steve Rogers stood for, then you’ll have to believe in me. Shield has been taken over by Hydra. I don’t know how many there are, but I bet they’re all around us. They shot Fury, and the Helicarriers are gonna kill a shitton more. Help me burn this monster to the ground. If not for me, then for your family. Your friends.”
“Pretty good speech,” Sam smirked.
“Not as good as Cap’s,” Bucky grumbled.
“People are gonna die, Steve. We can’t let that happen.”
Bucky and the Red Star grappled and fought, and Bucky managed to get him in a chokehold. Please don’t die, please don’t die, please don’t… The Red Star slumped, unconscious. Bucky grabbed the data chip from Steve’s hand, and laid him down gently. He’d be back.
A shot. Steve was good with a gun. Bucky remembered target practice in the snowy mountains of Nazi Germany. Snowflakes caught in long eyelashes. It was a clean shot through his abdomen. It wasn’t a kill shot.
“Fire, Hill! Now!”
Steve screamed. A horrible sound. Bucky dropped off the platform, and snarled as he struggled to lift the beam. Steve crawled out and stumbled to his feet. Bucky dropped the shield.
“I can’t fight you. You’re my Steve.”
Steve roared, pushing Bucky forward.
“YOU’RE NOT HIM!” Steve screamed, slamming his fist into Bucky’s face with every word. Bucky spit blood, grinning.
“I’m here, Stevie. Till the end of the line. I promised.”
Those beautiful blue eyes got so wide. Bucky forgot just how much they looked like the ocean.
And the floor gave way.
The Red Star had never been allowed to swim. They never gave him water missions. Shock collars never have done well when completely submerged.
They tend to break.