Sequel to If You Could See Me As I Am.
I don't own Captain America.
Lots of brotherly love!
Chapter One: Readjusting
(Bucky Point of View)
Bucky's eyes darted to the notepads as the psychiatrists in the room around him kept scribbling away their observations. Nervously clenching his fists, Bucky looked down at the black cargo pants he was wearing. After wringing his hands, he pulled his open sweater closer to him, his black t-shirt underneath slightly faded. But it still looked pristine, the words Brooklyn Boys emblazoned on it.
Most of the doctors were older with grey hair. There was one woman and three men. Their clinical eyes watched as Bucky shifted his posture at the metal table. "Do you want some water?" The older woman asked, sensing his discomfort, and she readjusted her glasses as she watched him.
Bucky shifted uncomfortably again. The table was long and metal, the doctors on the other end of it. He glanced nervously at the one way glass that he could barely see through and knew that Steve wasn't there. He never was. They didn't want him observing their interactions with Bucky, and they'd suspected that he could at least somewhat see through the one way window that ordinary people couldn't. But there was a guard on the other side. The guard would get the water and bring it to him if he asked for it. The guard was also there for security purposes in case he 'lost it'.
Bucky shook his head. The dark room was oppressive enough and water wouldn't help. "No."
The woman nodded. "Very well. Let's continue."
One of the other doctors cleared his throat and Bucky looked at him. "You once mentioned that you had questions that you wanted to ask Rumlow. What kind of questions we those?"
He felt sick, and he clenched his fists. Bucky didn't understand why they had to keep bringing that up. He looked away. "That's my business."
"No, it's federal business," the other male replied. Bucky didn't like the men. They were bold and unmerciful. The woman was far more compassionate, especially in how she worded things. But she was still slick and sly with her tongue.
Why he had to go through this second review when he'd already gone through one, he didn't know. They weren't redoing the physical exam, but out of the two Bucky was beginning to wonder if psychological exams were worse.
Realising he had no choice but to answer, Bucky decided to go for a half truth and a partial truth. "Why."
"Why what?" the woman prompted.
Bucky looked up. "Rumlow is the last person to work directly with me. The others are dead. I wanted to know why."
"Why what?" the woman prompted gently again.
Bucky huffed, sitting up and moving his metal fingers through his hair in agitation. "Why everything! Why did Pierce make the decisions he did in regards to me? Why was I a captive of Hydra? Why did they do all that? And why... why me?"
Bucky whispered the last part softly, looking away in forlorn. He knew Rumlow didn't have an answer, but he still wanted to ask him that, as if he could wring an answer out of him.
He continued, "Why was I chosen? Why not someone else? Why not someone who was already Hydra? Why did Zola want me, specifically, all those years ago in Azzano? Why didn't they ever put a bullet in my head before they did all that so I wouldn't have to suffer? Why did I have to be their guinnea pig?"
Something compassionate was in the woman's face, an understanding of sorts. But the other doctors merely looked at him clinically. "Haven't you been working on this with your therapist?" one of the males asked.
Bucky didn't respond. He looked away. Finally, "They can't answer these questions. But Rumlow can."
"And you're sure that he can?" the other male pitched in.
Sighing, Bucky knew it was a lost cause. He knew Rumlow couldn't. It was back to lying again, but with a little bit of truth. "Rumlow was in the last leadership. The leaders had access to records that no one else had. They knew things that I didn't. Maybe, one of those records could tell me? And maybe Rumlow, who worked closely with Pierce, could explain some of Pierce's decisions regarding me?"
It was almost pleading the way that it came out in the end. Bucky was back to gazing at the doctors.
The doctors shifted as they stopped writing. One of the men was tapping his pen as he observed him. "It sounds to me like you're having trouble moving forward in life. This is something that you should be able to work with your therapist on."
"But he can't answer those questions! Rumlow can!"
The doctor that had last commented frowned. "Unable... to.. move... on.. from... trauma... Unable... to... let... go...of... past.." the stubborn man wrote and Bucky clenched his teeth as the male muttered his writing aloud.
"Maybe you should try going through what I go through and see if you don't have questions!" Bucky snapped.
The doctor looked up briefly, observing Bucky's clenched fist. "Trauma... affecting... ability... to... think... clearly.."
Unable to hold back his anger, Bucky slammed his metal fist on the table, causing all the doctors to jump. There was now a dent on the table. "Stop it!" Bucky shouted.
"Mentally... unstable... Gets... angry... at... slightest... comments..."
Bucky threw his chair clear across the side of the room, utterly demolishing it. "Be quiet!" He could hear the guards on the other side bringing their guns up that had tranquilizer darts in them. Feeling in danger, suddenly, he moved to the door to retreat. "I'm leaving," he announced, breathing hard.
"You're not leaving until this evaluation is finished," the man on the far left firmly ordered. The doctors were still seated.
In mental agony, Bucky slammed his fist into the door with a scream. There was a crack in the door now. "STOP ORDERING ME AROUND!"
Suddenly, footsteps were heard on the other side and Steve's distinctive voice was heard. "Let me in!" Steve demanded.
With a sigh heard on the other side, the door opened. But Bucky gasped and backed up, afraid, as he saw the weapons pointed at him.
Steve moved quickly in front of Bucky in a protective manner. "Lower your weapons! He feels threatened!"
The door shut quickly as one of the guards slammed a button on a panel on the wall on the other side.
Bucky moved closer to Steve, nervous as he gazed back at the doctors.
One of the men stood up with a sigh. It was the same one that was muttering what he was writing. "You shouldn't be here, Captain Rogers."
Steve clenched his fists. He moved forward in front of Bucky again. Steve was angry, Bucky could tell. "And you shouldn't be purposely agitating Bucky like that. What kind of a psychological exam is this?"
Something stirred in the other man's eyes. "I apologise. I did not realize that they had gone against our requests and were letting you watch everything somewhere else. We didn't want you to see that."
"Trust me!" Steve snapped. "It was a lot worse on TV than it would have been observing from the other side of the two way glass." With that, Steve nodded to the guard on the other side of the glass that he could see just as well as Bucky and that ordinary people couldn't see, whose gun was now down.
The doctor nodded again. "We knew it would be provoking," the doctor admitted. "But it was needul to measure his emotional response when provoked. We had to see how much control he has over his emotions."
Buckly clenched his fists. "I'm not doing any more."
"And with respect, Sergeant Barnes," the female doctor pitched in. "The comprimising of your emotions is very concerning to the public. Have you never thought that this is one way that Hydra has and may again manipulate you?"
Bucky looked away, still angry. "We have records of your emotional behavior before your recent kidnapping. You're more distressed since then. It's needful to gather accurate psychological data on you so we can evaluate how much this recent ordeal has affected you. As it is, you're starting to display other mental and psychological phenomenon as a result of this."
He wasn't happy about it, and he wasn't in agreement either. "You don't seem as in control of yourself," the female doctor probed more. "Not that you were before, but this is worse."
"And how could this possibly help anything?" Bucky snapped, still looking away. Steve didn't look convinced either.
"This could help your doctors treat you," was the response.
Steve didn't look convinced, and neither did Bucky. "Yeah, well they never had luck there," Bucky growled. "Open up!" Bucky demanded. "I'm leaving!"
No one did anything. Steve went to stand beside Bucky.
"Open up!" Bucky demanded again. "Or I'm breaking this door down!"
Steve sighed, rubbing his head with his hands and turning to the doctors. "At least give him a break!"
"We need to finish this as we started without breaks," one of the males replied, not budging.
Steve clenched his fists and everyone, even Bucky, gasped as Steve did something no one had ever thought he would do. No one expected Steve to act aggressively and rip the door off of it's hinges, tossing it aside as if it were nothing.
The guards were too stunned to raise their weapons. Others only reluctantly did so.
"No!" Steve turned around, angrily glowering at the doctors. "You've gotten enough in Bucky's head today, and forever as far as I'm concerned. We're going home."
"This is a federal case. You can't do this!" one of the doctors warned.
Steve turned around briefly. "And Bucky is my charge. I am his guardian, not you! I have final say!"
With that, Steve took a gentle hold of Bucky's flesh arm and marched them out of there.
Bucky warily got on the motorcycle behind Steve after the man started the engine. He glanced nervously at Charles Mental Health clinic. "Are you sure yiu want to do this?" Bucky asked. He knew Steve was protective of him, but he had no idea how much until this very minute. It was like watching a momma bear guard her cubs. It was frightening. Even the doctors and guards were shaking at Steve's presence as Steve led Buck to safety.
"Positive," Steve firmly responded. The man donned a red, white, and blue motor bike helmet with glass in front that completely covered his face.
Sighing, Steve knew that Bucky was wondering if he had done something that he was going to regret later on. Finally, Bucky got on. After putting his helmet on, he tapped Steve's shoulder and they sped off.
(A few minutes later)
Steve was waiting for him to speak, Bucky knew. As he looked around the scenery to distract him, Bucky gently tapped Steve's shoulder, something brought to his mind that he wanted to bring up. When Steve grunted Bucky knew he had his attention. Steve still wasn't in a good mood after witnessing Bucky going through all that, and he cringed, wondering if now was the best time to bring up the subject.
"So," he started slowly, not sure how to continue. Finally, he just went for it. "What will happen to Clint?"
Steve stiffened. Bucky winced. Ever since Clint had begged Rumlow to let Bucky go and hadn't included himself in the deal, Bucky began reconsidering whether or not he perceived Clint as a threat.
"He should be prosecuted, Bucky," Steve's voice was shaking in anger. "He kidnapped you and took you out of country."
"But he didn't mean any harm by it!" Bucky begged. Wincing, he brought up something that he'd overheard Natasha say when they had been talking about this very topic. Bucky had been supposedly taking a nap at the moment. Unfortunately, he was caught by both Steve's hearing and Natasha's assassin skills. "His behavior was off. Natasha said it herself. Why won't you accept the answer?"
Steve sighed. "It's not as simple as that, Bucky. He got you hurt."
"Stop treating me as if I'm a helpless kitten!" Bucky snapped, tired of people's treatments for the day. Then he breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down. "Well, I think you should forgive him. He's going through a lot right now and he needs you as your friend."
His best friend was agitated, Bucky could tell. Suddenly, they veered away from the road they should have taken to go home. "Why don't we got to the store, Bucky?" was Steve's strained voice.
Grumbling, Bucky glared at the sides of the road the remainder of the ride. Steve hadn't accepted what he had said. He could only hope that Steve would think on his words and in time finally acquiesce. So when Steve parked, Bucky promptly got off snapping at Steve, "Well I forgive him!"
With a huff of air, Steve followed him inside as Bucky stalked inside Walmart. "All right!" Steve grumbled. Bucky knew he was going to consider what Bucky said, and while it wasn't exactly what Bucky wanted, a reconcilliation between him and Clint, it was good enough for now. It was progress.
Bucky turned away slightly, a smug smile on his face. Figures that out of all the people to get Clint and Steve to make up it would be Bucky. After all, Bucky had a special soft place in Steve's heart.
Feeling slightly better about himself, Bucky informed Steve, "I'm going for a walk. I'll meet you inside here in fifteen minutes." And Bucky's expression was depressed and exhausted again.
This triggered a concerned look on Steve's face. 'Oh, no!' Bucky thought. 'Not now!'
"Bucky, are you okay?" Steve placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeesing hard. Bucky shrugged him off, shaking his head. It was still hard getting used to touch again.
"No," Bucky admitted. "It was really, really stressful today." At least he was getting better at talking to Steve.
Steve nodded, recognising that Bucky needed his space. "All right," he allowed. "Just be careful. And Bucky? I hope you feel better."
A small smile was on Bucky's face at that. Steve still cared. Of course he did. But sometimes Bucky needed the reminder, even frequently because he still wasn't sure if he was worth it.
"Thanks," Bucky whispered.
Heading outside, Bucky took in the fresh air. Technically, Steve was supposed to be close by his side at all times, but Steve knew he needed his space. Besides, Bucky had his cell phone in case something happened and he needed help.
He took off on a jog a few blocks, going towards some small shops. Between the shops were alleyways. Though Bucky had been here many a time with Steve, he admittedly enjoyed window shopping. It gave him something to do. It was a way to refresh himself from all the drama he was surrounded with that stemmed from himself.
Bucky was so distracted from his ordeal that day that he didn't notice until the third block that someone was tailing him. Turning around, he spotted a young Asian looking man with a scarf around his neck. His gut clenched.
Though he didn't have any weapons, let alone guns on him because the restrictions the courts placed on him (angering Steve), he knew that he could fight the man off if need be. He just started reaching for his cell phone to text Steve when suddenly Bucky felt that Rumlow wanted him to turn down the closest side alley. He also felt that Brock didn't want Bucky to attack or harm the man tailing him, and that he didn't want Bucky calling for help.
That's when Bucky knew, they were Hydra.
Unable to resist his handler, Bucky felt close to tears. But he was forced to hold them back. Brock, for his part, sent Bucky reassuring comfort through the link. Bucky felt Rumlow emotionally send him feelings that it would be all right.
Waiting in distress, Bucky nervously watched the Asian man who had turned down the side alley as well. The man was watching him, somewhat amused at Bucky's terrified expression. But the man said nothing to him.
Finally, a black SUV came from the other side of the alley, and Bucky swallowed as he saw Rumlow. Rumlow sent his intention for Bucky to get in the vehicle.
Bucky walked over and Rumlow got out of the shotgun position. The Asian man tailed behind him and took Rumlow's place. Bucky got in the back row as instructed via his feelings, in the middle seat, squeesing past Hydra agents in the middle row. He swallowed as Rumlow sat beside him on the right, an agent already seated on his left. As both Brock and Bucky buckled in, Rumlow nodded to the driver who sped them away.
Rumlow sent reassurance through the link. "Long time, no see," he smiled. It was a friendly smile, but Bucky was still nervous of him. After all, it was no coincidence that Rumlow had picked him up, especially when he was vulnerable. Looking out the car as they left the alley, Bucky noted that there were no cameras there. There would be no evidence that he had been abducted.
"How did you find me?" Bucky asked as he was fairly sure that if they had been trailing him that day he would have noticed. He knew they trailed him sometimes, but Rumlow never let him say anything to anyone.
Rumlow rolled his eyes. "The twenty first century is a digital age. Cameras are everywhere, and you think that we can't find you and Steve, wherever you go? Besides, because of the bond I always know exactly where you're at. And if you tried hard enough, I'm sure you might be able to work out a general location on me."
Bucky shuddered. He ignored the last part as he didn't want to deal with it's implications. He knew it was true, though. But then there was the first part.
Walmart had cameras. The moment he left Walmart, they would have known. It was impromptu that they had done this, but chances are Rumlow had been waiting to get him aside privately for some time. And Bucky had unknowingly provided the perfect opportunity.
Brock sent comfort through the link. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you."
"You don't normally have me picked up this time of month," Bucky pointed out. "It's unusual, even for you. Besides, you already picked me up earlier this month."
Rumlow nodded. "Straight to the point." He squeezed Bucky's shoulder reassuringly which grounded Bucky slightly, it was comforting, which was probably why Rumlow had done it.
As the man looked out the window, he informed Bucky, "The King of Wakanda is interested in having you back in his country because of the whole Hydra having you for some time. Our sources indicate that Sam Wilson supports this decision."
Bucky frowned. He hadn't heard anything about this. "Steve wants me to have consistency," Bucky pointed out the obvious.
Brock turned to face him. "King T'challa is ready to kidnap you and Rogers if you don't agree to it. He thinks it's in both of your best interests. However that is not the issue." Rumlow sighed. "As strange as it sounds, Hydra doesn't want to stir up any trouble just yet. You're key to this whole position that is wrought with political complications. I'm leaving it in your hands to decide whether staying in the US or going to Wakanda will be the path of least conflict and going with it. It doesn't matter to us where you're at. Even if you're in Wakanda, we'll still have complete access to you." Rumlow let out a little smile.
Bucky shuddered. He didn't want conflict either, but if he decided for less conflict, then he was somewhat supporting Hydra. He didn't know what to do. But being that it was impossible fot him to disobey direct orders from his handler anyways, Bucky supposed his thoughts were mute point. So instead he asked another question on his mind. "How could you possibly have access to me in Wakanda?"
Rumlow smiled but didn't answer. Bucky shuddered. He knew that he wasn't going to get anything from his handler and owner on that.
As Bucky looked out the window, he noticed that they were back where they had picked Bucky up. Rumlow motioned with his head for Bucky to exit. Obeying, as always, Bucky did that and watched them drive away.
Suddenly, Bucky didn't feel like going for a walk. He felt sick to his stomach. And he also felt like his handler didn't want him to inform anyone of what just took place. Bucky wouldn't be able to, then.
Hurrying back to Walmart without trying to look suspicious, Bucky located Steve by the produce and milk aisles.
Steve looked up. When he saw Bucky, his expression told Bucky that Steve knew something was off. Bucky was going to have to up his game.
"You okay?" Steve broached the subject lightly.
Knowing that he would be unable to lie effectively, Bucky shook his head. "I want to go home."
Steve stared at him for a moment longer, knowing that something was off, before nodding. He led Bucky to the cashier, paid for what little goods they had, and then led Bucky back to the motorbike.
Like they normally did, Steve drove while Bucky held the small groceries. Bucky knew he was gripping too tightly, tighter than normal, and he knew the bread was being squeesed to death, but he couldn't help it.
As they entered the house, Steve turned around and put a concerned hand on his shoulder once more. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Bucky shook his head, looking away from Steve's worried, penetrating gaze. "Just leave me alone."
Bucky went to his room.
Steve didn't bother him after that.
(Clint Point of View)
Clint was currently under the guard of two men and one woman in suits who were there to make sure that he didn't escape. They worked for the Federal Government. But truth be told, if he wanted to escape, there was nothing they could do about it. Fortunately, for them, he had no intention of doing such.
He was currently pacing back and forth in agitation. But when he saw he black SUV pulling up in the distance, Clint stopped pacing and his breath hitched.
Out stepped Phil Coulsen, and once he stepped out, both Cooper and Lila, his young children, stepped out.
"Daddy!" Lila yelled and both Clint and his children raced to each other.
Clint embraced them all, crying hard as he held them close. He didn't ever want them out of his grasp again. "My kids!" he cried softly.
Phil watched the scene, taking his sunglasses off, his face wet. The other guards watched closely, their eyes wet to.
Finally, Cint stood up, his arms still wrapped around his two kids. He looked Phil directly in the eyes. "Thank you!" Tears were still pouring down his face.
Phil sighed, wiping his eyes, nodding.
"Where were they found?" Clint's voice shook, and the kids looked up at their father, slight tears of fear in their eyes.
"It turns out that you were correct," Phil replied after taking a moment to compose himself. "Those people that you and Barnes tried to reprimand were indeed slavers. As to why they'd taken your kids and sold them into slavery, I can't say. But they must have been aprehensive of what you'd discovered on your own about them."
Clint nodded. "I'd always suspected," he admitted. "I just never expected they'd find out that I had a wife and family and would take my wife hostage with Nathaniel and would sell my two other kids into slavery."
Phil eyed him in compassion. "You should have come to us," he then firmly, but not unkindly reprimanded Clint. "We would have helped you, you know that. You should have come to us instead of taking Barnes outside the country on a mission that he clearly couldn't handle. He may be trained for assassination, but he's not a spy."
"They had my wife hostage!" Clint protested mildly. "They threatened to kill her. I didn't know what else to do! After some digging, I thought she and the kids would be held there with the other slaves. I didn't expect my intel to bring wrong and bring up nothing!"
"I wouldn't say you brought up nothing," Coulsen disagreed. "Thanks to your actions, hundreds that day were delivered from slavery, and we got intel that allowed us to liberate thousands more in other locations. It may not have been your family, but for those people it made a difference."
Clint nodded, looking down at his kids. "I'm not saying it was right, what you did," Phil warned him. "It's never right to put someone in harms way like that who clearly isn't supposed to be on a mission or is unable to think clearly just so that you can get your family back. That, and you're lucky that your little fiasco didn't inform the ones who were holding your wife and young son hostage. They would have killed them for sure. Your actions put them at risk. You could say that in a way, Hydra was the best thing that happened because the little skirmish prevented them from getting a message to kill the hostsges. You're very lucky."
"I know," Clint whispered.
"And yet, ironically, it did provide the needed information to find Cooper and Lila and rescue them from slavery," Phil mused. "But it shouldn't have been done at Barnes' expense. He's dangerous too, and now we've got another issue on our hands wrought with even greater complications."
"What would you have had me do?" Cint begged. "No one was listening, and I had no way to get the evidence needed to prove that an investigation was needed. No one would approve of a mission for that reason. Would you have left my family and children in slavery? Besides, I'm already paying for my decision with jail time. I knew the risk and the potential consequences when I decided to do this. I have no regrets, and I would do it again, to see my family safe!"
"And Barnes?" Phil raised an eyebrow.
Clint looked away, clear regret seen in his eyes. "Not that. Never that. I'll never be able to get over what happened to him. I needed a partner who wasn't an Avenger for the mission, but I'd never wish for what he went through on anyone."
"He was sold into slavery too, because of your actions," Phil whispered.
Clint clenched his children tighter. "I know," he choked. "I was there and was forced to watch the transaction take place." He gazed fondly at his children. "And I'd not wish that on anyone. I hope to never see slavery again. I hope he never has to go through anything bad again."
"He already is," Phil acknowledged. "And now it can't be changed. The psychological consequences he's facing are enormous. But I know it wasn't your intention. So I ask that you follow my advise and give Steve and Bucky some space for at least a few months before you try to pursue patching up your relationship with Steve. Steve is really mad right now, and it's understandable. He doesn't exactly understand why you did it, and even if you tried to tell him the situation you were facing, he's not likely to listen right now, and it would only strain things more.
"But you still do owe both Steve and Bucky an explanation for your actions. It needs to be in person. They deserve to know why you made the decisions you did regarding Bucky. You clearly volunteered yourself as Bucky's babysitter for the intention of taking him out of country on a mission. You planned it ahead of time."
Clint slightly chuckled. "Bucky would not like to hear you calling me his babysitter. He does not like that term, even if that's what it technically is." A confused expression was then on Clint's face. "But how can I explain that to them when Steve has no intentions of visiting me in prison? I cannot see them face to face otherwise."
Phil shrugged. "Maybe that's because we managed to get your sentence migitated in light of the reason behind your actions. You weren't exactly thinking clearly yourself, and you still aren't. You're still very affected by everything, from your family to Barnes, and that's understandable.
"After Laura confessed what happened, we gathered all the evidence we could to help with your case. They've agreed to lighten the punishment considerably. After all, we told them that perhaps the natural consequence of knowing what happened to Barnes is consequence enough. They disagreed to leaving it to natural consequence, but they did lighten the sentence considerably. You won't be going to trial after all."
Clint's eyes widened. "Wow... Thanks..." Clint didn't know what to say.
Phil nodded. "It's a fine of five hundred thousand dollars, and community service of one hundred hours."
"That's it?!" Clint was surprised.
Phil nodded. "I sincerely hope that you enjoy waste management, because you're now a volunteer at a waste management plant three days a week to pay it off. But other than that, you're free to go. I advise spending as much time with your family as you can, especially after everything that's happened."
Clint nodded in gratitude. "Agreed!" he was enthusiastic. That was better than he expected. But then upon remembering Steve's anger, he flinched. "What does... Steve... think about this?" Clint was hesitant about it. He didn't want to anger Steve any more than he already was.
Sighing, Phil shrugged. "He hasn't been informed about anything yet. He's still too angry about everything, and he has his hands full with Bucky right now, so all of his focus is on him. But at the right time, we'll inform him of what happened to you and your consequence. Then you'll need to give your due explanation to both him and Bucky, at the same time preferably, and in person. No doubt Steve will be angry once he learns what's to become of you. But chances are, you'll have paid of your fine and community service by then."
Clint huffed. "It's probably the best that can be done." With that he tugged on his children, heading to the SUV and the guards that were waiting for him. He smiled at his children.
"Let's head home."
(Rumlow Point of View)
Rumlow gazed around at the scenery where he was at. A large mansion surrounded by a lush, pine forest greeted him that went right up to the house. The mansion had many stories, and though Rumlow admired the view, it was time to go back inside for business.
Quickly, Rumlow located a petite woman with gorgeous brown, flowing hair staring out at the forest from a high balcony. Her beautiful velvet green dress with flowing train seemed out of place. The first day that Rumlow had arrived, she's been in business suits, but since the day of their acquaintance, she'd only worn formal clothes, as if trying to impress him.
Rumlow himself was staying in the seperate mother in law house with his male guards, in order to have propriety, while his female guards stayed in the mansion with her directly. "Rumlow," she greeted him without even turning around.
"Irina," Rumlow acknowledged her. He was still stunned by her beauty. The last time he had seen her, she was an orphaned teenager.
The woman smiled. "I told you use my middle name Yana. Irina is a bit too formal."
Rumlow smiled. 'So, she's playing with me. A leader of Hydra can technically call his subjects and the heads of his factions whatever he wants, and she knows that.' Rumlow decided play back. "Well, if Irina is too formal for you, then perhaps I should be even more respectful and formal and call you Ms. Sokolov?"
"Or we could switch to Russian and you could be formal with me there?" the woman flirted back. "Quite romantic a language, isn't it? I've always loved Russia. And I've always loved what Hydra could do for Russia, which is why I've joined."
The woman turned away from him again with such confidence, something one wasn't supposed to do to their leader. But she did it so gracefully, as if knowing she could get away with no one else would be able to do to Rumlow. And she was right. "The mansion is my mother's gift to me," she informed Rumlow. "My inheritance." She frowned.
Rumlow stepped up in concern. Since his arrival and despite only knowing Yana for a short period of time, only a couple of weeks since he arrived, he and Yana had developed quite a bond of friendship and a fondness for each other. Dare he say that it might even become something slightly more.
'It would make political sense to marry her,' Rumlow thought. 'She's the daughter of a Allana, a former head of Hydra. A powerful head of Hydra, of the most powerful.' Then Rumlow quickly shook his head. Pierce had taught him to not let his emotions rule him in judgment, even if he developed feelings for someone.
Sensing something wrong, he stepped up and placed a hand on Yana's shoulder. "Something wrong?" he asked. "Your mother was always kind to me, and I remember that she was fond of you. She would always talk about you. She loved you."
"And yet you seem to have inherited what was supposed to be mine," she somewhat bitterly replied, sighing. That's when Rumlow knew. Part of her wanted the Asset, wanted the leadership of Hydra. "My mother actually intended to replace Pierce with me once I was old enough. She thought a young leader was needful. Pierce agreed that having a young leader would be good, someone to lead Hydra for years to come."
"You knew your mother was sick?" Rumlow asked, surprised.
Yana nodded. "She thought she could at least make it until I was 18. She would have been able to make me heir then. Pierce was in agreement." She sighed. "But then she died, and Pierce got him. Not that I have a problem with his leadership. He even let me inherit some measure of what my mother had by letting me be head of the Russian faction of Hydra, which includes all former Soviet territories. I think, once I gained enough experience, he intended to switch Mitchel out with me.
"But then things began politically changing in the world which Hydra hadn't expected, and suddenly Russian was no longer the place most suited to have a leader from as the United Stafes gained more power and needed more help controlling. That required having a number of resources and leadership in America, something I wouldn't have been able to do from Russia. So Pierce kept Mitchel on."
"But you want to live up to your mother's legacy," Rumlow smiled, understanding where she was coming from. Perhaps that was why they had bonded so readily; both knew what it was like to have big shoes to fill. But that didn't stop her from being slightly jealous and envious, though not enough to be dangerous.
Yana smiled. Rumlow dedided to flirt back some, not quite sure why he was doing so. He'd never dated or been in a relationship before, neither had Yana. They'd both been preoccupied with their duties in Hydra and rising through the ranks. How Rollins had ever managed to get a girlfriend once with his busy schedule both with Hydra and Shield, he'd never known. But it did not work out because of how busy he was.
"So," Rumlow quirked a smile as he flirted. "Being the spouse of the practical Emperor of Hydra isn't good enough?"
Yana smiled. "You're so like my father," she muttered dryly, evidently pleased with his flirting. Rumlow could see that she had feelings for him too that she wasn't ready to acknowledge. 'Maxim Sokolov,' Rumlow thought, remembering the name of Allana's husband. Allana had chosen to keep her last name but had given her daughter her husband's last name. She had married him while still second in command to Hydra, but he had died and she had gained the leadership while pregnant, entrusting Egor as her second in command once she came into office.
"You never even knew him," Rumlow broached the subject carefully.
"But my mother told me stories," Yana acknowledged. "She said father got into her good graces because of his wit. She said that's why she noticed him enough to date him and marry him. She says I'm more like her."
"You are," Rumlow acknowledged. "I remember her slightly. She would come to America to meet with Pierce." Rumlow was a bit wistful at that. There was silence, and then Rumlow groaned. "Ugh! You're too young for me!"
"Am I?" Yana challenged. "You're the one who mentioned me marrying an Emperor." She smiled smugly at that, teasingly.
"And I was an adult when you were still a child," Rumlow pointed out.
"Teenager," Yana corrected. "And nearly an adult."
"When I saw you the first time," Rumlow acknowledged. "But if you think about it, I was at least twenty when you were born. I'm twice your age."
"And that didn't stop other people from falling in love and getting married," Yana pointed out. "My mother was twice my father's age. She always thought he'd outlive her and raise me because of his age, not the other way around."
"You're right," Rumlow conceded. He might be more her mother's age. Practically, however...
"It's still too early," Rumlow informed her, but he knew both of them were interested in pursing a possible relationship once things died down. It would also be politically advantageous to the both of them as well, not just because of romance. She had easier access to some resources than he did.
That, and she was the daughter of a Hydra leader. That gave her a lot of power. And for her to have access personally to American resources would be good for her. Plus, it would be good for her status if she did end up marrying him. Right now, she had equal power with the other heads of Hydra factions. If she married him, the scales would be tipped and she would have the most power out of all the heads of Hydra factions, practically making her the most powerful, after Rumlow and his heir of course.
'Unless I choose to replace my heir whose name I've written down and secured in a vault with her,' Rumlow thought. And he was beginning to consider it. He'd have to wait to see how their relationship turned out, first. Nobody knew who his heir was, after all, not even his current heir.
Yana sighed. "And now it's time to discuss policies," she set the tone, and Rumlow smiled despite knowing the fact that she had broken another rule by taking charge.
"Technically, I'm supposed to be in charge," he teased her.
Yana smiled, and then was back to business. She followed Rumlow as he began walking away. "The Winter Soldier," she asked. "You sure you want him in psychotherapy to enemies of Hydra?"
"Doesn't matter since I have a hold on him," Rumlow firmly replied careful in his words. "Even if he was "rehabillitated" some, it would only further our cause by catching Steve and the Avengers off guard. They don't know yet that I have control over him. It's all about timing."
Yana nodded. "Very well," she acknowledged. "I agree it's for the best. It's rather ingenius, if you ask my opinion. You have my support."
Rumlow smiled. She had been the easiest to work and convince so far out of all the heads of Hydra. She was also the last to visit. And Rumlow had no doubt that he could count on her support. In fact, she would probably be the most supportive out of all of the Hydra heads of factions.
Yana looked him up and down. "You will make a good leader," she murmured softly. "I have no doubt about that. Pierce did indeed train you well, just as my mother taught him well."
The woman sighed.
"Let's go discuss those finances, shall we?"
(Steve Point of View)
The next few days had been somewhat of a step back for him and Bucky. Bucky semed to be avoiding him. But, eventually, Bucky warmed back up to him.
It was during the time that Bucky was giving him the cold shoulder, that Sam had come over. They hadn't gotten far. Sam had mentioned to him that maybe it was in Bucky's best interests to go back to Wakanda, and Steve had gotten angry, when suddenly Steve heard Bucky stirring. He'd been taking a nap and had just woken up.
Both he and Sam were quiet when Bucky came out, his hair discheveled. He blinked in surprise when he saw Sam there.
"I'm leaving," Sam was quick to say. He saw himself out the door.
Bucky sat down. "What was that about?" he asked in genuine curiosity, staring at Steve in interest.
"Nothing!" Steve snapped, upset and deciding to give Bucky a taste of his own treatment, even though he didn't deserve it.
Bucky went back to giving him the cold shoulder after that, and Steve knew he was mad.
Eventually, they both calmed down. Finally, Bucky was back to talking to Steve again.
It happened after breakfast. Bucky sat down, humming softly, and Steve sat beside him. "I never got to apologise for snapping at you," Steve bumped his best friend's shoulder.
Bucky smiled softly. "Nah. It's cool. Or is that what they say nowadays?" He frowned in confusion.
Steve chuckled a little. "Let's not worry about young people talk, shall we?" Bucky nodded.
As he sighed in relief, Bucky asked a question and Steve almost wanted to cringe. "Why was Sam here the other day, Steve?"
Steve winced a second time. Then, sighing, Steve got into the whole converstation with Bucky. Bucky listened closely, patiently. Things were silent between the two of them, and Steve was left wondering what was going on in his best friend's mind.
Finally, quietly, Bucky whispered while looking down, not meeting Steve's eyes, "I want to go back to Wakanda, Steve." He looked up.
Steve was shocked. He didn't think that Bucky would ever say such a thing, especially since America was their home. Steve knew the shock was showing on his face for Bucky let out a wry smile. "What? I'm not allowed an opinion?"
Steve bumped his best friend's shoulders at the jibe. "It's just not something I thought I'd ever hear coming from your mouth."
The two of them fell silent for a minute as they digested what Steve said. "Yeah," Bucky whispered after a moment. "Times have changed, drastically too. It's not like when you and I were young, not that I remember it anyways."
It still saddened Steve greatly that much of his time with Bucky was still unremembered. All the lost time that was precious to him, and his best friend was still having trouble recalling the founding days of their friendship. It was like starting over with him again. Other times, Bucky would remember feelings and expressions like muscle memory, almost subconsciously, but he wouldn't understand it because he wouldn't remember the memories associated with it. It caused them both grief. But perhaps it was hardest on Bucky.
Taking a deep breath, Steve acknowledged Bucky's desire. "I know you want to got back to Wakanda," Steve gently approached, not sure how to word this. It might be a delicate subject to Bucky the way he was acting. "But it's not as simple as that."
"Why not?" Bucky challenged.
Thinking hard, Steve tried to word it this way, "There are a lot of politics involved in a decision like that. For one, you are a US citizen. You've not decided to give up that citizenship ever. What's more is a lot of our agreement with the foreign countries and our own regarding you means that you stay in the US. You not allowed to leave. That's part of what's keeping you free and from going into a mental institution, or becoming a ward of the state. Going to Wakanda would breach that contract."
As Steve was silent for a minute, getting his thoughts together, Bucky demanded rather impatiently, "And?"
Puffing his breath, Steve continued, "That's putting a lot of pressure on T'challa just to make concession for you. Coming back here was supposed to be a permanent thing."
"Just ask him," Bucky encouraged. "King T'challa rather likes us. I'm sure he'll be more than willing to make concessions. Besides, Wakanda was a second home, wasn't it?"
Steve nodded, "You know I want you to have consistency to heal, Bucky. Are you sure you're up for this? It would be breaking routine, and probably dealing with a whole bunch of trouble on top of that."
Bucky snorted in derision. "Stop treating me like a little kid! I'll be fine!"
"Okay!" Steve raised his hands in a giving up gesture. "Just looking out for you, Bucky. And yeah, it was a second home." At that, Steve went and gave a long look at his friend. Bucky was visibly uncomfortable at this. But what had prompted his friend to make a decision like this? Did he no longer like the United States? Though truth be told, Steve was growing tired of the corruption and problems of their home. Perhaps the peaceful, civilised nation of Wakanda that didn't deal with all the corruption was preferrable.
But still, what was the reason behind Bucky's promptings? "Bucky, is there any reason why you're asking for a move?"
Bucky seemed more uncomfortable at this question. "No." Bucky was lying. Steve could tell.
Wondering how far he could push it without turning Bucky off, Steve pursued, "If there's something going on that's making you uncomfortable, if you're being threatened, Bucky-"
"BACK OFF!"
That's when Steve knew that there were other reasons prompting this decision. Whatever it was, Bucky was highly uncomfortable. Maybe that's why he wanted to move, in order to get away from it all. Maybe he was silently trying to flee.
Steve nodded, realising that he had no choice but to accept Bucky's answer. "All right," he conceeded. "I'll talk to King T'challa. But I can't guarantee anything. Chances are, T'challa won't allow it, especially since there are all sorts of political complications involved and Wakanda would end up entangled in it. He has his own people to care for too, you know."
Bucky looked like he didn't think that was the case. It was curious to Steve, and slightly suspicious, but Steve decided that he wasn't going to get anything out of Bucky right now. Perhaps he had called King T'challa up, asking? But no, that couldn't be the case since if he did that Steve would know.
Bucky's calls were constantly monitored, as well as who he called and communicated with. Bucky knew this and neither he nor Steve liked it. But it was part of the agreement that they had been coerced into agreeing to. But considering other things, it was the lesser of two evils. Steve was still trying to fight it, being unconstitutional. Maybe that was why Bucky wanted to move.
Regardless, if Bucky tried to call anyone or was contacted by anyone, Steve would be the first to know. Bucky's phone was linked to his phone, which informed him whenever Bucky called anyone, contacted anyone in anyway, including social media and email (Bucky didn't have any social media accounts), and when he tried to set up any accounts. Steve was always notified.
That is unless Wakanda had technology to bypass that and ensure that Steve didn't know. Steve wouldn't put it past them, especially since Wakanda was technologically advanced.
But still, why would T'challa do that? It was unlike him to do something like that without at the very least informing Steve first.
Somehting was off somewhere, that Steve knew. But Bucky walked up and went to the kitchen, the conversation seemingly over. And Steve knew better an to push Bucky, especially nowadays since his Hydra captivity. He'd been more moody since slightly recovering, and even then Steve couldn't really say that he'd healed any.
Bucky was turned away from him, unwilling to look at hm. Steve walked over and placed a hand softly on his shoulder. "Please don't close off from me!" Steve begged him.
Bucky wouldn't meet his eyes, sipping on some water. "Steve, please don't bother me right now." He put his glass down on the kitchen counter.
Steve shook his head. "I know you're holding back on me, Bucky. I worry about you. You're my friend. I love you. I care about you."
Bucky cringed, tears in his eyes. He was holding a sob back. When he turned around, Steve put his arms around him. "I can't!" Bucky cried. "I want to, but I can't!"
"Can't what?" Steve asked, his chin on the top of Bucky's head. Bucky wouldn't answer. Steve squeesed him in his embrace a little tighter to give comfort. Bucky nestled in closer, tears pouring down his face.
"Can't what?" Steve prompted again.
Bucky said nothing. But then after a while he whispered, "I'm scared, Steve. That's why I why I want to move."
Steve knew it was a partial lie, but he didn't call Bucky out on it. Bucky was having a hard time talking as it was. But there was something he did want to say.
"I'm not mad, Bucky," he whispered. "But please be honest when you talk to me." It disturbed Steve slightly that ever since Rumlow had returned Bucky, he wasn't as honest. Steve knew that something had happened and was going on.
Steve felt the tears drip onto his shirt. "But I do want to move," Bucky whispered.
"And I know it's fueled by something else," Steve murmured softly, continuing to hold Bucky.
Bucky didn't answer, but Steve was unsurprised when he didn't answer. So all Steve could do was hold his quivering form.
Steve knew that Bucky was terribly afraid, and Steve was afraid of the consequences if Bucky was indeed threatened. He didn't know what to do if Bucky wouldn't confess anything to him. Steve knew if he confined him to the house to keep him safe, then Bucky would only rebel and it would strain their relationship more than ever, pushing Bucky away from him, even though he wanted to help.
Some part of Steve couldn't help but wonder, for this very reason, if a move would indeed be in Bucky's interest. With Rumlow and Hydra unable to enter Wakanda, and no one in Wakanda willing to support Hydra, Bucky would be much safer.
Back when they had stayed in Wakanda after Bucky was unthawed and in healing, Bucky had felt much safer. He had started to let down some safeguards and was more willing to talk about what had happened and the terrible nightmare ordeal he'd been through. But eventually politics came into place.
In many ways they had been homesick, but as the corruptions became more apparent, they had changed and Wakanda became the desired home. In the end, they had returned to America with the others to keep the peace, not because they wanted to. Both had returned out of a sense of duty.
Sadly, things had gotten more restrictive for Bucky when they'd gone back to America. It had for Steve too, but nowhere near as much as Bucky. Bucky had begun closing off again, and the progress he'd made seemed to have disappeared. Steve had always noticed that when thy reached America, Bucky no longer felt safe.
'But it's more than ever needful that Bucky feel safe, especially with what has happened,' Steve thought. 'Bucky needs a chance to heal.'
Eventually, Bucky's shaking calmed down some. Though he wasn't ready to tell Steve what was bothering him and what was going on, Steve hoped that if he and T'challa could pull this off for Bucky, that Bucky would begin to feel safe enough again to open up again.
"I miss home," Bucky murmured softly.
(Bucky Point of View)
Bucky curled up on the cot he was laying on. He was exhausted. Earlier that day, Bucky and Rumlow had interacted for several hours nonstop. Part of it was an interrogation by Rumlow to get the state of things on his end. It was that time of month to see Rumlow again.
Running away from Steve was hard. But the bond had forced him to do it. It would probably be another several days before he would be seeing his best friend again.
His mind went to the conversation earlier that day during which Rumlow had interrogated him.
"So, what decision did you make?" Rumlow demanded to know, arms crossed, faced away from him. They were in Rumlow's office. Bucky was pleased and rather flattered when Rumlow let him sit in the comfy chair in front of the desk instead of standing. Standard protocal for handlers dictated the Asset didn't get such nice luxuries. Brock was breaking the rules just for him.
Brock's statement wasn't unkind. In fact he was rather soft in his statement.
As Bucky considered what he was going to say, still somewhat nervous, Rumlow sent comfort through the link. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," he reassured Bucky for the umpteenth time that visit.
While Bucky was more comfortable around Brock than he was any of his previous handlers, he was still somewhat nervous of the man. He was still unused the the kind of interaction that Rumlow was willing to provide. The man wasn't as harsh with him and was more patient, especially. He was more willing to use coaxing, gentle tactics than brute or physical force.
Not even Pierce had been that patient with him. He might try to coax Bucky a bit more than the others, but when Bucky took his time, he got impatient quicker, more willing to lash out sooner. So far, Rumlow hadn't lashed out once to him, even in situations where Pierce and his other handlers most certainly would have. But he still demanded an answer when he asked a question, or prompted an answer with his feelings through the bond, and he still demanded his Asset obedient. And because of the bond, Bucky would be forced by it to answer eventually. He couldn't completely disobey.
"I'm going to Wakanda," Bucky finally announced, somewhat timidly and softly. He wriggled around uncomfortably as he admitted this statement, fearing that he would incur his handler's displeasure. Had Rumlow been testing him? Would he be angry with his decision? As he hesitated while giving his answer due to misgivings, he finally found the courage to ground out, "That's my decision. But I don't know if I can pull it off."
Rumlow turned around sent his Asset feelings of well done to Bucky. Bucky sat up, knowing that he had pleased his handler. Rumlow sent encouragement his way. "Well done," Rumlow murmured. "I shall make the necessary preparations." With that, Rumlow sat down at the head of the desk, ready to continue his interrogation. "And how did Steve respond?"
The name was sour coming out of Rumlow's mouth, but from the feelings Rumlow was purposefully projecting to Bucky, Bucky could tell that Bucky was not on the end of that sentiment. In fact, Rumlow was happy with Bucky. However Bucky couldn't help but cringe slighty at the question, knowing what he was going to have to bring up.
"Steve knows that something is wrong," Bucky decided to get it out of the way first. Rumlow didn't seem surprised, but nor did he respond one way or the other. "I'm sorry-" Bucky was quick to put out.
Rumlow held up a hand, effectively cutting Bucky off. "It's all right," Rumlow calmed Bucky with his feelings. The man sent reassurance his way. "I didn't expect him not to notice."
The Asset felt relieved when Brock continued to send him reasurances. "You're doing fine," Brock promised. He smiled a little. "Try not to be so nervous and scared, 'kay? Relax, I don't bite."
Bucky smiled a little at the saying. But he was still somewhat tense. "I don't want you to be scared," Rumlow tried to assure him further. The man leaned forward a little, feeling his Asset's feelings constantly. "Your previous handlers handled things as they deemed fit, and now I get to handle things the way I deem fit. I already promised you that I'd do my best to be gentler with you, didn't I? No punishments, unless you don't cooperate. I mean it. I don't want you scared. I want you comfortable. And I only ask that you try your best. That's all I want from you."
Bucky took a deep breath, nodding.
Now that Brock considered Bucky's comfort addressed, he decided to move on. "Is Steve going to acquiesce to you, or is he going to try to stop this?"
Shaking his head, Bucky replied, "He's wary that it can be done, but he agreed to try." After a moment's hesitation, Bucky added, "I think he thinks the move would be good for me, would... help me feel safer. He thinks that it would help me open up and talk more."
Rumlow nodded as he observed all of this. "Would it?" Rumlow asked in genuine curiosity, arching an eyebrow.
Bucky took a moment to consider this. Brock meant no harm by the comment, nor was he disappointed with Bucky. In a way, he seemed concerned for Bucky's emotional well being, not just his physical wellbeing that all handlers had always been concerned about.
"I don't know," Bucky finally breathed. "So much has changed since the last time I was there. That, and it's a completely different situation now." He looked up at Rumlow and the man nodded, accepting this information.
"And what would be most comfortable for you?"
The question through Bucky off guard. It was the last thing he expected any handler to ask him, even Rumlow.
"I don't know."
So that's the end of the first chaper for the second story. Thank you for following me thus far.
Please read and review!