Chapter Text
H3Y CPT 4SSH4T
The lights had flickered making Steve glance at the cryotube display and then to the closest monitor. He does a double take trying to convince himself that he imagined it, that the offensive alphanumeric was merely an accident. The screen quickly returns to Wakandan characters and a list of scrolling numbers, as usual. Steve isn’t reassured and doesn’t take his eyes away.
CH3CK YR M3SS4G3S
This time the words are easier to read and stay onscreen for longer. Steve rushes to the cryotube. Bucky looks the same as always and everything around seems the same but even if it weren’t, would Steve know? Wouldn’t anything go off? A panicked, jittery thought starts playing in Steve’s head “he’s dead, Bucky’s dead in there, or dying”. He’s holding onto the tube with both hands, quickened breath fogging the glass.
An impotent rage seizes Steve as he stares at the screen where the messages had appeared, teeth bared. He can just picture Tony’s gleeful expression, the ghost in the machine… What if he’s killed Bucky with just a touch of a button. So cold, so unlike anything Tony would ever do, a calmer voice tries to tell him, tries to drown the litany of “Bucky’s dead” in his head. He’s looking around for something to press and raise the alarm just as klaxons start blaring and the lights go to full brightness.
A swarm of technicians enter the previously deadly quiet lab. They flit from terminal to terminal, muttering harsh sounding words, very far removed from their usual politely condescending selves. Steve tries to get someone’s attention but is thoroughly ignored. He ends up grabbing one of the whitecoats by the wrist and dragging her over to Bucky’s cryotube demanding that she check on him.
She wrenches her wrist from his grasp. She’s a young looking, round faced woman
“He’s fine.” She doesn’t even glance Bucky’s way.
“You didn’t check!”
She exhales in frustration. “The cryotube is completely self-sufficient. There is no connectivity whatsoever. You can pick him up and take him to your room for all I care. Now excuse me, I have work to do.”
She makes an obnoxious shooing motion and Steve does get out of her way, face burning and rage shimmering just under his skin. He gives Bucky one more long look and tries to reassure himself. It’s fine, it’s gotta be fine. Tony wouldn’t attack someone in a frozen box, he wouldn’t do such a cowardly thing.
But he can’t shake disquiet of Tony’s presence there. So he knew exactly where Steve was. What if he’d hacked into the video feed… Steve had been telling Buck about what a disaster Sudan had been. Bad intel, a pointless mess of a mission and Sam’s wings seizing mid-flight. The bitter realization that it had been a local skirmish, a situation best left alone. They were Avengers, not goons for hire.
Disheartened he’d left the others and come to beg T’challa for scraps, a way to fix Sam’s gear, some guidance on how to use his own gear, the energy shield and weapons he’d appropriated from their latest HYDRA raid without anything resembling a user manual. And just to see a friendly face, even frozen in a glass tube. To ground himself. It’s Bucky and he’s worth all of this, he always will.
He heads back to his room. Figures, for next to a year he’d carried that little phone everywhere he went. He leaves it alone for one night to charge and this happens. The screen is lit. 12 messages and 3 missed calls.
T’challa makes his presence known with a heavier gait than usual and a loud exhale. Steve hadn’t closed the door.
“I received a message too. Come find me when you’re caught up.” His stormy expression matches his clipped tones. He stalks off, without waiting for a reply, practically vibrating with anger. Something tells Steve that T’challa’s message wasn’t received by conventional means either.
He opens the phone menu and navigates to the oldest message.
FIRST LET ME TELL YOU THAT I’M NOT ASKING YOU TO COME BACK. I DON’T NEED YOU.
Next message.
AS FAR AS I AM CONCERNED YOU CAN EAT A BOWL OF DICKS.
Steve winces at the vulgar imagery. He navigates to the next message.
BUT THIS IS BIG AND WE NEED THE WITCH. AND THE NEWLY APPOINTED PLANETARY DEFENSE COUNCIL WANTS TO REINSTATE YOU AND BRING YOU BACK.
Planetary Defense sounds ominous. Steve moves to the next message with suddenly clammy fingers.
DON’T WORRY. THEY WON’T MAKE YOU SIGN ANYTHING.
Steve can practically hear Tony’s voice, sarcasm dripping from the characters on that small screen.
THEY ARE THINKING OF A REBRANDING, THOUGH. CAPTAIN PLANET. CAPTAIN EARTH. CAPTAIN WORLD.
Next message.
FROM CEREAL TO CLEANING PRODUCTS AND A COMPLETELY LAME CANADIAN ECO-WARRIOR ALL TITLES ARE TAKEN AS YOU MAY IMAGINE
ANYWAY, TALK TO T’CHALLA, HE’LL HAVE MORE DETAILS
The next message is timestamped about half an hour later.
WE DON’T CARE ABOUT BIRDBRAINS ONE AND TWO. IF THEY RETURN THEY WON’T BE PROSECUTED BUT THEIR BENEFITS ARE STILL GONE.
Steve grinds his teeth. Both Clint and Sam’s retirement packages were pocket change to Stark and there he was throwing their current state at his face. Clint’s family in the wind and Sam’s ailing mother forced to leave the nursing home she’d called home for the past 5 years.
He scrolls to the next message, timestamped almost an hour later.
HELL, YOU CAN EVEN DEFROST AND BRING YOUR MURDEROUS BFF
Steve draws a blank at “BFF” but the rest of the message is clear enough.
WE HAVE A SORCERER SUPREME WHO WANTS TO HAVE A GO AT FIXING HIS BRAIN
AND I WILL BUILD HIM A NEW ARM
A few minutes later.
WITH LASERS.
Last message, timestamped 03:15 am. Steve calls the only programmed number in the little phone, nothing but static in his mind and hoping he’ll find words when the time comes. The phone rings and rings and goes unanswered.