Chapter 1
It's all Tony's fault.
Steve doesn't really like pointing fingers in moments of crisis, but there's really nothing else he could do in this moment, so thinking about who he can punch and yell at when this is all over seems like a fine alternative. And all the while, the screen continues to flash red as an irritating high-pitched beep blare intermittently.
Sitting in the co-pilot seat of the qinjet, Steve clutches the handrests tight enough to leave marks. If he's completely honest, this could also be Steve's fault. Ever since he met Tony in high school, it had been one bad disaster after another; he should have known this time wouldn't be any different.
Sure, Tony Stark is a genius, but apparently, when he says, 'I promise, I've tested it, it's 100% safe', it's probably a lie. He's hovering over the screens now, eyes frantically taking in all the hologram data as he murmurs numbers and stats under his breath.
"I thought you said everything was automated," Steve grumbles.
Eyes still trained on the screen, Tony directs a middle finger towards Steve. "It is, the first four hours was fine, wasn't it?"
"So, what's happening now?!"
Tony grunts, as he taps a few more buttons on the screen with more force than necessary. "Well, it's not actually that bad, but JARVIS is offline here for some reason. Has been for God knows how long, so no one warned me we're out of fuel-"
Tony's abrupt silence draws Steve's head up towards the screen.
"Huh," Tony says, after a while.
"What?"
"They're a village here," Tony pulls up a model of the mountains in front of them, pointing towards a valley. "It's not on the map." He shrugs, not waiting for Steve's response. "Well, hopefully they'll have some fuel or at least give us a break for a bit anyway. Let's go down."
Steve glances at the village shown in the model; something uneasy stirs in his stomach. "Tony are you sure?"
But Tony is already in that deep concentration mode of his, as he takes on the controls and redirects the plane. Steve sighs, sinking back into his seat as he braces for a rough landing. The mountains aren't exactly the best place to land a plane, but Tony makes do, and they find themselves in the outskirts of the village, looking down at neat rows of brick buildings.
A bad feeling tingles at the back of Steve's mind, but it's not until they step onto the main road leading into town that Steve places it. It's the silence; an absence of both animals in the mountains around them and any proof of human life.
"What is this place?" Steve frowns, "You think it's deserted?"
Tony shrugs, but Steve recognises the way his eyes are lit with curiosity. He hopes they find someplace with fuel for the quinjet soon, otherwise he's not sure he can guarantee Tony won't drag himself into some irrevocable mess.
"Hey look! This doesn't look like some backwater village at all!"
Steve turns stiffly towards where Tony's pointing, sighing even as the man runs ahead into an electronics repair store.
"Tony," he warns.
Tony waves a hand distractedly, "You don't understand, this is like, the next level tech, you're not supposed to find this stuff in normal stores. Let alone-" he looks around and shrugs, "wherever this is. Hello?! Is anyone here?!"
There's no reply to Tony's shout, nor is there anyone at the back of the store when Tony pushes past the curtained door with utter disregard for Steve's protests.
"Let's go check out the rest of the town first, we can come back if we find anyone," Steve suggests, but Tony's eyeing the store with a mischievous glint in his eye.
Steve tries to understand the appeal in the rows of technological devices, most of them sealed in plastic hanging neatly on the shelves.
"Look, they're good tech, but they can't be that expensive. Let me play with these babies for a while and if the owner comes back, it's not like I can't pay for it then," Tony smirks, waving his credit card in the air.
Steve sighs and leaves Tony to it. When Tony sets his mind to something, it's almost impossible to get him to change his mind. Steve would rather use this time to figure out where exactly they are.
The main street they'd entered through is mostly filled with stores, but leading into side streets, there are more apartments and office buildings, above the shops. The lights are all on, and most are hanging open signs, but the whole place appears completely devoid of life.
But what confuses Steve the most, is the Cyrillic script in most store fronts. If it had been just a few streets, Steve wouldn't have blinked an eye, but after a quick walk around the whole place, it appears only the main street stores were in English. If he didn't know better, he'd think Tony had flown them to Russia.
It takes longer than Steve expected to make the lap around the town, it being bigger than he imagined a small mountain village would be. By the time he reaches the main road again, it's late afternoon with the sky darkening already. The sun must set quicker in the mountains.
He'd meant to rush back to Tony, but just as the street lamps start flickering on, movement catches in the corner of Steve's eyes. It's a kind of bird that Steve doesn't recognise, but what really catches his attention is the way it glows, as if burning with invisible flames.
Steve's first instinct is to duck into the growing shadows and watch in secret. But as soon as he ducks under the canopy of the closest restaurant, the lights inside turn on. Steve takes a step back as he spots the people inside – his instincts screaming as he realises they're not quite human.
They're humanoid, but at best, most share the characteristic of another animal. At worst, they look more like demons than something Steve could find in the zoo. They all share the same feeling of wrongness that sends shivers down Steve's spine.
There are more people – monsters? – on the streets now, stepping out from stores or filing around the corners. Steve takes a reluctant step back, then breaks into a quick run, staying in the shadows as he tries to find where he left Tony.
Would he be an obvious outsider, to anyone who spotted him? Or more pressingly, would he get an opportunity to explain at all before he ended in someone's stomach?
Surprisingly, there are less people on the main road. Steve rushes straight into the electronic store where he left Tony, his heart sinking as he takes in the mess in the store, and the absence of his friend.
"Fuck," Steve breathes out.
The answering snort surprises him, and Steve looks down to see a gigantic pig at his feet. Steve jumps back, arms already up to confront the animal, but when he stares into half-lidded brown eyes, there's a flicker of familiarity there.
Of course, it could also be the fact that the pig is wearing the same shirt Tony had been wearing, while a pair of jeans were pulled on the floor further in the shop. Steve swallowed, taking a step forward hesitantly.
"Tony?"
The pig snorted once, as if in response to Steve's words, but then he turned back to the pile of electronics littered across the floor.
This must be a dream. Some horrible dream because Tony spiked his drink a distasteful bad joke. Maybe if he just turned around and ran as far as he could away into the mountains, everything would turn out alright.
A noise clashes at the back of the store. Steve's head snaps up to see the curtains leading to the back of the store push open. They reveal a burly man with a thick moustache and balding hair, looking almost normal at first glance. But his eyes are a thick black as if it's sucking out the colour around it and his skin emits a pale translucent glow.
Steve takes a deep breath, barely resisting the urge to scream. He nods once at the man, because he will not be accused of having bad manners, grabs Tony, then sprints. He's slowed by Tony, and it's a clumsy unbalanced run at best as he glowers at the pig tucked under his arm, so big he suspects it might be heavier in mass than his human form.
He barely makes it to the front of the village, with thanks to the cover of the darkness to hide a stumbling man and pig. But he's forced to a stop before he reaches his escape. A huge group of creatures are gathered there, heading in the town, and there's no way Steve could sneak by unnoticed. Especially not with a pig at his side, snorting loudly, apparently ignorant of the trouble around them.
With no other option, Steve turns and runs the other direction instead, further into the centre of town. He keeps to the shadows, to the side of stores with his head tucked low. He doesn't keep track of the roads twisting and turning before him, until he comes to a stop in front of a river.
He lets go of Tony in surprise, staring into the dark watery abyss that he did not encounter earlier. Tony takes this opportunity to sprint away, scuttling along the riverbank. A pig shouldn't be able to run this fast, but maybe it's because this is Tony, or just because his size is gigantic, it's almost quick enough to slip out of sight.
Steve curses, before giving chase again. He gives up discretion for catching up to Tony, stumbling only a little along the unfamiliar river bank in the dark. He's a little out of breath by the time he reaches Tony, who had become distracted by the allure of a trash can.
"Tony," Steve says exasperatedly.
Steve crouches, reaching for Tony. A chill shoots up his arm when it passes through the animal. Steve stills, then more hesitantly, he extends his hand again. Under the dim street lights, it almost looks as if he's fading away.
But that can't be right. Steve's holding up both his hands, hoping to catch the light better, and he finds he can faintly see through his hand. He feels pressure tightening his chest in a rush and there's an overwhelming desperation that longs for him to wake up from this impossible nightmare.
"You're not supposed to be here." A rough, low voice calls out from behind him.
Steve starts, turning abruptly. Imbalanced, he falls onto his ass, his gaze landing on a pair of black combat boots. He eyes follows the boots up to a pair of equally black trousers, then a black Kevlar vest, as well as no lack of guns and knives strapped all over him. At this point, when Steve glances up at the stranger's face, he's surprised at how human he looks, shoulder-length hair framing a pale face, eyes sunk in dark shadows and a light stubble around full lips curved into a frown.
Then, his attention is drawn to his left arm, where the sleeve is cut to show off a gleaming metal arm, sleek and attracting all the light. His right hand, seemingly flesh, is twirling a handgun.
Steve pushes himself up, clenched fists raising in front of him.
The stranger only raises an eyebrow, unimpressed but slightly amused. "You really think you can deal a punch with those hand, pal?"
"I ain't going down without a fight, whatever it is you want," Steve retorts, standing his ground. He's very aware of the increasing transparency in his hands slowly spreading up his arms, but he can't afford to show weakness here.
The man looks Steve over, seeming to consider for a moment. He sighs loudly when he slips his gun away, raising his empty hands in a non-threatening way. "I'm not looking for a fight. Only, you've been freaking out for the past 30 minutes, and as amusing as it is to watch you run around, you should probably get out of here soon. Otherwise, you're going to cease to exist."
"Cease to exist?" Steve feels faint.
"This is a spirit town, and you're a human," The man says, as if it's obvious. "You're not made for this place."
"What about Tony? What happened to him?" Steve points at the pig. Then hesitates, "That is Tony, right?"
The man shrugs, "Your friend probably upset a spirit or something. And unless you want to end up like him, I advise you get out of here before anyone else comes across you."
"Okay but first, how do I turn him back?"
"Turn him back?" The man looks surprised, which only irritates Steve.
Steve plants his arms on his hips. "Yeah, he may be an annoying asshole half the time, but he's still my best friend. How do I fix this?"
Steve tries not to panic at the way the man shrugs nonchalantly. "Not my spell, so I wouldn't know."
"Well, then I'm not leaving," Steve lifts his chin up, he's nothing if not stubborn. "I'm not leaving Tony like this."
"Then I guess you're not leaving then," the man sneered.
Steve opens his mouth to protest, only to have the man leap forward, his hand flying to Steve's mouth. Before Steve even processes the movement, the man's slipped something into his mouth, then forced it closed.
"Swallow," The man orders, but his voice is gentler. "It'll keep you from disappearing."
Steve glares, refusing. He's not ignorant of the story of Hades and Persephone, or any worse drug. But when he tries to push the man away, he's hands pass right through the man.
"You've got nothing to lose at this point, pal," The man says, voice wry. "You might as well just eat it."
"There are fates worse than death," Steve retorts, indignant even as he relents, swallowing the thing whole. It tastes vaguely of sweet berries, but dry and hard, without the texture of the fruit.
The man shrugs, stepping back from Steve with a satisfied nod. He may have mumbled something under his breath, along the lines of "Don't I know it," but Steve's too distracted to listen as he stares at the colours returning to his arms and hand.
He holds it up, one finger poking the other hand hesitantly, before grasping them together to celebrate its wholeness and solidness.
The man stands to the side, watching silently. Steve looks up, meeting piercing blue eyes.
"Thank you, um-"
"Bucky," The man supplies. "I go by Bucky."
"Steve Rogers," Steve says, though Bucky didn't ask. "What exactly did you just do?"
"That was a pill that'll make you temporarily one of us, or at least, appear like a spirit so that you will not fade. For now."
They stare at each other in a strained silence for a moment, before Bucky's eyes flick towards the ground. Steve's gaze follows only to realise he'd briefly forgotten about Tony.
"You really should go, but if you won't leave your friend behind, look, he's beyond help now. He's probably under a curse for taking what belongs to spirits and the supernatural. If you want to reverse that, it's going to take a while, and you need a place to stay, otherwise it'll only be a matter of time before you start disappearing again."
"So, what do I need to do?" Steve asks, adrenaline pumping now that he's body horrors has subsided.
Bucky frowns, "Leave him to me for now. You need to focus on yourself, first. Alex- I mean, Pierce, hates freeloaders, so you'll need to find a way to make yourself useful. Get a job at our bathhouse and I'll find you later."
"What? No!" Steve's tone is defensive as he pulls Tony towards him. "Why should I even trust you?"
Bucky stares pointedly at Steve. "Didn't I just save your life? I'm your only chance so stop being a stubborn ass and get across the bridge."
"Bridge?"
Steve can't understand how Bucky would expect an outsider to know all the places in town, nevertheless, Bucky's exaggerated sigh still makes Steve feel like an idiot for his cluelessness.
Nevertheless, walking through the town feels safer behind Bucky, the man striding down the road with confidence and strength in his step. Every now and then, a few others nod towards Bucky, greets him with an "Evenin' Soldier," which Bucky returns with silent nods.
No one looks twice at Steve, nor bats an eye at the pig slung over Bucky's shoulder. Steve could get used to this.
Across the bridge, the road opens to an old, wooden building, tall and long. Steve loses count of how many windows in the front of the wide building, with the entrance in the centre, where the awning extends further out.
At the very front, a worn sign reads: Welcome to Hydra Hotel.
But Bucky doesn't enter through the entrance, taking Steve around to the side through a jumbled path of shrubbery and shadows, until they reach the back of the building with an open window. Bucky stops in front of it, turning back to Steve.
"I'm not going to follow you in," he jerks his head towards Tony, "Gotta deal with this first. But you need to find Natasha."
Bucky rambles off a list of directions that Steve can barely remember, just that there's a lot of stairs downwards, and a bunch of corridors and air vents and trap doors. Steve nods vaguely as he tries to remember all the instructions.
"Ask her for a job there, she owes me a few favours, so she should help you," Bucky seems lost in thought for a second, before nodding. "Remember, you have to get a job, no matter what. My pill won't last forever and if you don't find another excuse to stay, you'll definitely be disappeared. Natasha's you're best chance. Go!"
Bucky is already turning away when Steve clutches Bucky's arm. It's the metal one, and it vibrates slightly at the touch, then from the motion of Bucky turning back to Steve.
"Why are you doing this?" Steve says. He's hoping he looks even slightly confrontational, but chances are, he just looks confused.
Bucky seems to consider this for a moment, looking Steve up and down. Then his mouth twitches, his thin lips pulling up into a sly smirk. "If you see a lost puppy drowning in a river, wouldn't you try save it? Even if that pup's a weird punk dragging a big fat pig at his side?"
Steve doesn't know whether to feel offended, but then Bucky disappears back into the bush, Tony in tow.
"Jerk," he mutters under his breath. Then Steve turns back to the open window, his insides tightening as he tries peeking inside.
Steve keeps to the shadows, once he awkwardly climbs into the building. Inside, the corridor is lined with closed doors, but it's mostly empty. Steve rushes across wooden floors to where Bucky said the stairs were, racing down as quick as he can.
Steve follows the instructions to the best he can, though just when he begins to question his memory as the air vent seem to be never-ending, an opening to the vent appears before him, and below it opens into a large expanse of space that Steve decides must be the boiler room.
Kicking the vent open, Steve drops down with a loud clang onto the floor. At one corner, facing away, sits a woman dressed all in black, contrasted with red hair at shoulder-length. Though she must have heard Steve when he rained down from her ceiling, she doesn't show any reaction.
Steve takes this opportunity to look around the room. It's a square space, but on one side, in place of a wall is a large furnace, flames alit in a dance of light and heat. It's the direction Natasha is facing as she fiddles with mechanics at the edge of the furnace. Directly across the furnace, the wall is completely lined with wooden drawers, and on the wall to Natasha's left, is the lone door to the room, small and inconspicuous.
For a while, Steve lingers at the centre of the room, but when it becomes clear Natasha will not be the first to speak, he takes a tentative step forward.
"Natasha?" He says, "I'm Steve. I'm looking for a job."
Natasha whips her head around, cold eyes glittering fiercely. "Okay? Good luck. Keep looking."
Steve takes a deep breath, "I was hoping you might be able to offer me one? Bucky says-"
Natasha drops the lever in her hands, and it falls flat with a loud clang. The fire in the furnace rumbles, dimming a little, though it continues to burn. "Do you know where we are and when we are?" She demands. "We're stuck in the dead heat of summer in a bathhouse advertised for the winter season. Do you think I might be shorthanded at all?"
Steve bit his lip, looking around, eyes landing at a litter of coals in the corner.
"What about someone for heavy lifting?" Steve offers. "I'll help feed coals to the fire or something. Please, I'll do anything, just give me a job."
Natasha narrows her eyes, silent for a long time. Steve tries not to fidget under her gaze, wondering what she's reading off him. Until at last, she murmurs, "Getting desperate, are you?"
And Steve is desperate. Though he doesn't know why: only that Bucky had seemed desperate that Steve find a job, too. He probably shouldn't trust Bucky as much as he does, but the prospect of disappearing or turning into a pig are worse alternatives he doesn't want to risk at all.
"Just let me show you what I can do," Steve tries.
Without waiting for Natasha's assent, he goes over to the pile of coal. They're each around the size of Steve's fist, stacked into a neat pile. Steve tries taking two from the top, only for its weight to surprise him – they're heavier than it looks. Still, Steve makes good on his promise, carrying them across the room to the furnace, throwing them in.
Natasha's gaze is thoughtful, her hand absently grabbing a lever again, letting the fire devour the coals. She hums, then shakes her head.
"Unfortunately," she says, not looking regrettable at all. "I don't think you have the skills suited to working here."
Then, as her gaze bore into Steve, her physical shape shifted. Nothing fundamentally changes in her face, but her she grows slightly taller as two extra pair of arms extend from her body, then all six arms lengthening to reach the coals without moving from her position by the furnace, pooling the whole pile into her arms and loading them all into the fire.
Steve's jaw slackens, even as the image of her shifts again, the air tensing as she retracts her extra limbs. Steve had almost forgotten the supernatural elements of the bathhouse, but now the fact slams into him again like a hardened brick wall coming in full force.
"And if you're going to try offer to get my next load of coal, well, I've got a Clint to do that for me," She smirks. "You're all so predictable, so just go home. Tell your employer I don't have any more jobs for you lot. You're going to have to try some other method."
Steve frowns, "What employer?"
Natasha only raises an eyebrow, her smile slipping into annoyance. "Really? Are we really going to play pretends at this? The one who sent you."
"Bucky?" He says.
Natasha's expression is impassive for a moment. "Huh," she says at length, with mild interest. "Did he now? What for?"
"He says I have to get you give me a job," Steve repeats, almost rote at this point. But Bucky trusts Natasha, so this time, he adds softly, "Please. Otherwise I think I'm going start disappearing again."
When Natasha slams a hand on Steve's mouth, he stumbles back a step. He was not prepared for the arm to extend so abruptly at him. But Natasha is getting off her bench, coming to Steve like a fishing rod reeling the line in.
Her voice is a harsh growl as she leans into Steve. "Don't say that," she grits out. "Don't let anyone know you're human. And if you're smart, don't let go of your name, either."
They're close, her face a breath away from his. And staring into her dark eyes is like drowning in the depths of an ocean. He struggles to come up with something to say, should probably ask if this changes anything and if he could get a job, but then the harsh creak of sliding door pulls Natasha back into a more comfortable distance.
She turns to the door, and Steve follows suit, to find a man at the door, a tray of food in his hands and eyes bulging wide at them.
"Sam," Natasha greets levelly. "Thank you. You can go now."
The man, Sam, puts down the tray of food by Natasha's corner, but when he turns, he doesn't head back towards the door. Instead, he crosses his arm, glaring straight at the two of them.
"So, who's this?"
Steve can see the gear turning in Natasha's head. "An old friend of mine," she says at last. "He's staying in town for a while and needs a job. So, I brought him here."
Steve tries not to look surprised, holding his neutral expression in place as he nods his head. But does this mean he got the job?
"Right, you have a friend and you figured bringing him here would be the best career path for him?" Sam's voice is dry, dripping with sarcasm. But there's something in the look he directs Natasha that makes Steve think there's something more to the question that he's not asking.
Natasha shrugs, "He needs it. Look your timing is perfect. He needs to see Pierce for a job, I'm a bit busy with the furnace right now, so I don't suppose you can do that for me?"
Steve's heart sinks. Pierce? Isn't that who Bucky warned him about? But if he were to refuse, would that only raise more suspicions on him from Sam? Or finally get him kicked out by Natasha?
"I want to get a job here," Steve tries, one last time.
Natasha sighs, hand sweeping across her face. She turns her back on Sam to look at Steve "Look, whatever you were thinking," she raises a brow, indicating it's not Steve she's referring to. "It wouldn't have worked. So just go to Pierce, ask for a job, and that is the best way to show him you can be useful right?"
Steve frowns, considering. At this point, it's clear Natasha has as good, if not better, of an idea of Steve situation as he does.
"Alright, alright," Sam says, a little impatiently. "Are you coming or not? I've got work to get back to."
Steve looks up guiltily, hands already waving as his eyes widen. "Oh, I don't want to trouble you-"
But then he's flying forward with a push from Natasha, and he barely keeps upright after tripping over his two feet. Sam watches, a hand on his hip as he hums noncommittally. When Steve reaches him, Sam raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Just go," Natasha is settling back into her corner, one arm extended reaching for her food as another two go back to fiddling with her levers and metal wheels attached to the large furnace. "Get out of my face, already."
Sam disappears behind the door without another word and Steve only hesitates for another moment before he's rushing to catch up.
Steve had long since lost any sense of direction within the bathhouse, even back when Bucky was the one giving instructions. When he reaches the hallway outside Natasha's furnace, all he knows is that he's in the lowest floor of the bathhouse and it's underground somewhere.
They walk through what must be the main hallway, Steve getting into step just behind Sam. He ducks his head low whenever they pass anybody, but he can't resist the urge to look up whenever they pass an open door.
After stumbling across a kitchen and a cleaning cupboard in two occasions, Steve gathers quickly this must mostly be a worker's floor. So, he's not expecting it when Sam takes a turn and directs Steve towards the stairs.
"Where are we going?" It's quiet in the stairwell, the dim of background chatter muted behind closed doors. Steve's voice echoes in the quiet, startling himself a little.
Pierce's office," Sam says flatly. After a pause, he adds, "Top floor."
They make their way up the rest of the stairs in silence, Steve counting the number of floors they go past. He finds his thoughts drifting back towards Bucky, the man with an aura of deadly efficiency and violence and an endearing name that didn't quite match. The man who probably was only in the form of a man, but with a true form perhaps even more monstrous or grotesque than all he'd seen.
The thought sends a shiver up Steve's spine, just as Sam slows at the top of the stairs, three floors above the furnace. When Sam sends Steve a questioning glance, Steve doesn't look away.
Rationally, Steve knows he shouldn't trust anyone here. There's always a chance that if anyone found out his identity, he'd be eaten - or worse - before he'd get a word out. But there's something about Sam, even if Sam's shown nothing but impatience and distrust in the time they've met, that makes him feel safe.
Mostly, it's the absence of danger on him, completely unlike how being around Bucky and Natasha would send a chill through his body and make his hair stand on its ends.
And Sam's clearly gentlemanly, as he holds the door out of the stairwell open for Steve.
"Sam?" Steve says trepidly, as Sam leads them down another hallway. "What do you know about Bucky?"
Sam shudders. His tone one of disbelief as he stares at Steve, "Bucky? You mean the Winter Soldier? What do you want to know? That one's bad news."
"How so?" Steve frowns, he can't help but feel as if Sam's reaction is unwarranted, even if just a moment ago he'd felt something similar.
Sam shrugs, "He's not really got a lot to do with me, but we all hear the rumours, you know, and well, it makes me glad that I don't know him well."
"What rumours?" Steve asks, but then Sam's pushing Steve through a large set of doors that opens into a huge foyer. There's a crowd, a mix of staff and customers from what Steve can tell, if the supernatural's behaviour at a bathhouse aren't too far from humans, so Sam's got a hand on Steve's back as he guides them across the floor.
Sam shoots Steve a meaningful glance, gaze flitting across the room to indicate the crowd, and the conversation ends.
There's little more time for talking anyway, as they reach a small pocket of space behind the foyer with three elevators. They take the one at the very end, Sam pushing a blank button above the second floor.
"This building has seven levels," Sam explains when he sees Steve staring. "Three below, three above ground. The lower ground levels are for staff and storage, and the baths are all on the ground floor. The first floor is mostly recreational spaces, though there's a few suites as well, and the second floor is all suites. And the highest, that whole floor is Pierce's suite, and you're only allowed to go up if you need to see him, otherwise keep out of that floor."
Steve nods, keeping the information in his mind as the elevator dings, doors opening out to their destination.
"Like I said," Sam pushes the button keeping the door open, but makes no move to get out. "Only those who really need to see him can come up, so I'll leave you here."
Steve feels a sudden surge of panic, as he looks out into the suite and feels completely helpless without Sam. Steve feels almost pathetic at his reliance on strangers, but then again, everything still feels like some unreal dream – or nightmare, so he should be excused for being so out of his depth.
The elevator opens to a large open space, carpeted with an extra circular mat in the centre. On it, are couches surrounding a small coffee table at the centre of the mat. At the other end of the room, lies three sets of double doors, each with intricately carved frames and fancy door handles and door knockers.
Sam points to the one furthest to the left, then gives Steve a push. "That's the door to his office – don't go in any of the other rooms."
And as soon as Steve steps off the elevator, the door closes, and Steve finds himself left alone in the large room. To the left, in place of the wall is a large panel of glass, and Steve looks out to see the moonlight filtering in. The stars are bright, here in the mountainside, or maybe there's stars because this place is, to be put plainly, magical.
But it's not a pleasant type of magic, being stranded here with a best friend-turned-pig that he's left with some stranger who carries around knives and guns the way ladies wear their jewellery.
At the door to the left, Steve hesitates. The door knocker is metal, the shape carved like a skull with six tentacles, and when Steve reaches for it, the tentacles begin to move. Steve jerks his hand back by reflex, and then can't bring himself to touch it anymore. He opts for knocking instead, three times loudly and clearly.
Silence answers him, and Steve half suspects there might be no one inside. But after what appears like ages, a stern voice calls from behind the door.
"Come in."
Steve takes a deep breath and pushes the door open.
.
.
a/n: The thought occured to me the other day, thinking about Spirited Away and then thinking: wow, isn't Haku similar to Bucky in a lot of ways. Mostly, the whole brainwashed to work for the 'antagonist', doing all the dirty work. Forgetting his name. And meeting the protag who remembers for him; the protag who'll always believe the best in him even when everyone warns him/her against Bucky/Haku.
Along with the incentive of being able to turn Tony into a pig, voila! This story was born!
I figured if I posted this, I'll be more likely to finish it. We'll see. Thanks for reading.