Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Other Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Nick Fury
Additional Tags and Warnings: Work In Progress, Warnings May Change, trigger warning: suicide, Trigger warning: strangulation, Trigger warning: internalized homophobia, trigger warning: homophobia, trigger warning: internalized intersexphobia, trigger warning: intersexphobia, violence, intersex!Steve, Intersex, Action & Romance, winter soldier - Freeform, post - Avengers Movie, Eastern Europe
Steve's doctor had shrugged her shoulders and discharged him. "You should by all accounts be dead and here you are: walking around again. If you say you feel fine I'm just going to have to trust you, because normally we'd keep someone with such a wound in for at least another four days. But you're... different."
He'd quickly thanked her and left before she could change her mind. Now Clint and him were having dinner in the helicarrier's main mess.
"—and then Natasha destroyed a punching bag. She was furious, I tell you," Clint said.
"What's her connection to this assassin and what do we know about him?"
Clint put down his fork. "Fury didn't tell you anything?"
"Nothing except that he's an assassin. I'd only just come round and still need to talk to him properly," Steve replied.
"His code name is the Winter Soldier," Clint started and it took a while until Steve was up to speed on everything. At the end of Clint's explanation Steve had lost his appetite.
"I really need to talk to Fury," he said, standing up quickly.
"What?" Clint said, shoving his own tray to one side.
Steve ran his fingers through his hair. If the Winter Soldier was his contemporary... he shook his head to clear the thoughts from his mind.
"I have to talk to Fury first," Steve said. "I'll catch up with you later, okay?"
"Yeah, sure—"
Clint's arm shot forward, grabbed Steve's collar, and pulled him down as plates smashed on the ground while agents all around them reached for their weapons.
"Winter Soldier," Clint said. "Seems the reprogramming was unsuccessful. Let's get you out of here."
"He wasn't trying to kill me," Steve protested as a bullet embedded itself in the wall behind them.
Clint crawled past him to get a better look at the action. Several agents were fighting the Winter Soldier at once.
"No? What was he trying to do then? Ask you out on a date?" He gave Steve an all clear sign with his hand.
"Who told you that?" Steve asked, darting past Clint. "I'm gonna grab my shield."
"Good idea!"
Alarms were sounding as he dashed for the room he'd been told his shield was in. It had better be there, he thought. He felt a pain in his side. Down two floors, then first door on the right, he told himself. Not far now. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a stitch from running — although considering he'd had open heart surgery yesterday, maybe he shouldn't be so shocked.
He leapt down the final few steps, threw open the heavy glass doors at the bottom of the stairwell and stumbled into the corridor beyond. There was his shield. And in its cover was the Winter Soldier, gun at the ready, aimed straight at him. For a moment their eyes locked and that minute display of hesitation by the assassin was enough to allow Steve to throw himself backwards at the doors again. A hail of bullets smashed into the reinforced glass. Steve leapt for cover, but one of the bullets grazed his right biceps. The guy certainly looked a bit like Bucky, he thought.
His heart was protesting furiously in his chest and he braced himself against a wall to catch his breath. The gun fire had ceased so he ventured a look into the corridor again. It was empty. He allowed himself one more deep breath to steady himself and then he bolted after the assassin.
The chase led Steve out onto the deck of the helicarrier. The Winter Soldier seemed to have his eyes set on one of the jets — its back hatch was open. Oh no you don't, Steve thought. The image of the assassin making off with his shield was enough to give him the energy to propel himself across the deck. While the Winter Soldier had to fight off agents, Steve's path was clear. The Winter Soldier was already on the plane and it was starting to move when Steve reached it. He threw himself onto the hatch as it started to close. His chest was painfully tight and his hearing seemed to be on its way out. He scrunched his eyes closed and counted to ten while taking deep breaths. Then he sprang up and bolted for the cockpit, hoping the sound of the jet engines would mask his footsteps.
"If you take me on now this plane'll crash and we'll both die," the Winter Soldier stated, not even turning around when Steve hurtled into the cockpit. The plane was in full ascent now.
"I've survived a plane crash before. I think I'll take my chances." Steve grabbed the assassin's shoulder with one hand and reached for his shield with the other.
The Winter Soldier turned to face him. "You really do have a death wish, don't you?"
Steve gasped, let go of the other man's shoulder, and braced himself on the co-pilot seat. So he hadn't been mistaken in the warehouse, dim light and all. He was aware his mouth was hanging open, but it took him a few moments to convince himself that his eyes weren't lying to him.
"Bucky," he said eventually. It was all he could think to say, as Bucky being alive eclipsed all other thoughts in his mind.
"Who the hell is Bucky?" The Winter Soldier knitted his brows. "Hold on tight!"
Steve increased his grip on the co-pilot seat as the plane banked sharply. Then he wished he was strapped into the seat as the jet went into a nosedive. He was reminded of that rollercoaster Bucky had made him ride — he hoped that this time he wouldn't throw up his dinner.
Bucky hadn't been able to fly a plane, but the Winter Soldier clearly knew how to. His maneuvers were hair-raisingly reckless and yet at the same time Steve felt like they were in safe hands. He didn't say anything so as not to distract Bucky... well, so as not to distract the Winter Soldier. He hadn't cared about the possibility of a plane crash before, but now Bucky's life was also at stake.
After what felt like an age they'd shaken off their pursuers and were heading over the open ocean to who knew where.
"Where're you taking us?" Steve asked. He knew S.H.I.E.L.D. had operatives in most countries, if he could only get word to them—
"Don't even think about it. You think I don't know what's on your mind?" Bucky squared his shoulders. His mannerisms, his speech patterns... all of it was Bucky. Only the cold glint in his eyes and the set of his jaw allowed Steve to keep in mind that who he was talking to was not the man he'd known.
"Look, I know you can't remember your life before they did this to you." And as he said that he motioned at Bucky's metal arm, which Clint had told him was a bionic prosthetic. "You want your memories back, right? I wanna help you get them back. S.H.I.E.L.D. can help—"
Bucky engaged autopilot and turned to face Steve. "They want you dead."
"What?" He stopped himself from saying any more, reminding himself of what Clint had said about the Winter Soldier's mind having been programmed wrong or something.
"They programmed me to kill you."
Steve gave him a measuring stare. "No, they didn't," he said slowly and clearly. "You need help. Your mind is a mess."
"I know that," Bucky bellowed. His chest and shoulders were visibly rising and falling with each breath he was taking. Without even thinking about it Steve had raised one of his hands. He stopped himself from reaching out and touching Bucky with it.
"We'll get your memories back," he said instead. "Somehow. We can do this."
"But unless you listen to me, we're both going to die. Because right now, I thing I want most in the world is to see you dead."
Steve winced. "We can undo the brainwashing. And you ain't killed me yet!"
"So shut up and stop tempting me. When I came to less than an hour ago I was inside S.H.I.E.L.D. facilities. There was a man sitting next to the table I was strapped to who looked familiar. Don't know who he was, but there was a S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on his shirt and I know he told me to kill you."
Steve shook his head. "That was probably Dr. Ulanov who was trying to help you."
"He told me to assassinate you. Gave me a whole brief." Bucky put his head in his hands. "Leave now."
"Where to?"
"Just leave the cockpit!" he shouted.
Steve took his shield and retreated slowly, remembering what Bucky had said about wanting him dead. And then the cockpit door closed and he collapsed onto the floor on the other side of it, unable and unwilling to put any more distance between himself and the man who was and wasn't Bucky at the same time. He wanted to punch something, he wanted to scream, and he wanted to pull Bucky close and never let him go... but he couldn't do any of those things. The deep breaths he was sucking into his lungs to calm himself were turning ragged and he wasn't sure if the pain in his chest was due to the surgery or due to the man on the other side of the door.
"Bucky," he whispered, "I'll save you this time. I won't fail you again, promise."
Bucky finally landed the jet, but he hadn't told Steve where. The morning sun was still struggling to make it over the horizon and the cornfield Steve had just stepped out into was damp with dew.
Steve shouldered his shield. "What now?"
"We walk and I try not to kill you," Bucky said, barging past him, not looking back over his shoulder, even when Steve didn't follow him. If Steve dashed into the cockpit now he could send a message to S.H.I.E.L.D. . Bucky was still resolutely walking forward. Steve took a deep breath and started jogging to catch up with him.
The air was fresh with the smells of nature. It reminded him of the war. Before then he'd never spent much time outside of the city and it was different in New York's parks than it was out in the European countryside.
"A general named Lukin was givin' me orders a couple of months ago," Bucky said. "But I left. Don't think I would've been able to if he'd treated me the way S.H. .D. did. Didn't know anything about my life though, just knew I wanted to get away from him."
"Must've been really scary, I'm sorry."
Bucky gave him a sidelong glance. "I realized pretty quickly I could do a lot of things, like... kill people."
They crossed a small stream and came upon a dirt road, which they followed. The whole situation felt surreal. He noted that Bucky's hand was clenching and unclenching around a holstered gun. Steve dropped back a bit so he was just out of Bucky's immediate field of view, but not walking directly behind him either. After a while the hand fell away from the gun and Steve tried to pick up the conversation again.
"You remembered me though? When you left Lukin?"
"No. I saw a photo of us in a glossy magazine — but it said it was from the Second World War."
Steve looked over at Bucky and studied his face. He looked a couple of years older at most. A lump started forming in his throat as he thought of what the Red Room had done to him, twisting the best man he knew into his worst nightmare.
"Wasn't hard to find some punk who was good with a computer and needed a favor," Bucky continued.
Although the sun was now high enough in the sky to start warming the air Steve felt as if the temperature had just dropped several degrees. He didn't want to dwell on what kind of favor exactly Bucky might be talking about, but... had Bucky actually assassinated someone in exchange for a Google search?
"He found the photo on the internet, where it said the guy standing next you was James Barnes. He also hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D. and retrieved the file of James B. Barnes for me."
"Your S.S.R. file?"
"Yeah, well I wasn't sure if it was really me or not." He had a smirk on his lips. "Well, Bane, that computer kid, he said: 'Dude, there's no waythose two were just friends. No one lists their flat mate as their next of kin.' He got me your file too. We had an apartment together in the States before the war and one note on the file said we also shared a tent during the war. So I came straight to New York to find you. I could tell I knew you, and so I had to be James Barnes... and from the kiss I could tell that Bane was right." Bucky's eyes were full of humor.
Steve looked away. This was Bucky next to him, amnesiac though he may be. But if he thought of him as Bucky now, then what about those times when he'd killed for the Soviets, for Lukin? He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to clear his mind. The most important thing right now was to help Bucky get his memories back, but there were a lot of other things that they'd have to work through after that.
The dirt road had led them out of the fields and to the edge of a wood, but Bucky chose not to walk through it, so they left the road in favor of a muddy footpath that led around it. Eventually the landscape changed: mountains loomed in the distance and the land seemed wilder. From the vegetation he guessed they were somewhere along the Adriatic. But the bunkers — God the bunkers!
"They're everywhere!" Steve exclaimed as they passed another several dozen along the roadside. He could see more in the distance, on hill tops, in the middle of cabbage fields, and clustered along any natural ridge in the landscape.
Bucky nodded. "Good to evade prying eyes and infra-red heat sensors."
"Are these from a European war I missed while in deep-freeze?"
"They weren't built because of war, just some dictator's paranoia. There's a larger complex in those mountains. Should hopefully still have weapons and supplies in it."
"When were you last here?"
"In the early 1980's. Assassinated three generals." His voice was cold and hard. "Got those memories back just after I woke up in that S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. That's why I took us here."
"The jet has a tracker on it," Steve said. "S.H.I.E.L.D. know where we landed."
"That's why I ditched the jet. If we get to the mountains undetected we can hide there 'til S.H.I.E.L.D. give up lookin' for us."
Bucky stopped short and Steve almost ran into him.
"What's up?" Steve asked, but instead of replying Bucky grabbed his arm and dragged him off the road and into one of the deserted bunkers. Bucky was strong — far stronger than Steve remembered him and although he could have resisted, he realized he'd have to hurt Bucky to do so.
The domed structure was made entirely of thick concrete and was little more than a shell. When Steve tried to speak again Bucky pulled him close, clamped a hand over his mouth and pressed him down onto the ground. Then he heard it: the sound of a Quinjet passing overhead. As he willed his body to be still he felt a cold, hard edge against his side. If he struggled out of Bucky's grip, the knife would slice him open, though he reasoned that he could probably survive that, since he'd be able to alert S.H.I.E.L.D. before he bled out.
"If they spot me, they'll aim to kill me, as they did in the warehouse," Bucky whispered, as if sensing Steve's thoughts. "Especially after I shot at you." His voice was strained and his flesh and bone hand was starting to shake. Steve didn't reply until several minutes after the Quinjet had moved on from their location.
"I think you can let go of me now," he said, trying to project a calmness into his voice that he didn't feel. He knew it wasn't Bucky trying to kill him, knew it was the brainwashing, and that made it hurt less, but it still hurt that the one person he'd always looked to for safety and comfort... that person was holding him in his arms right now, not to take care of him, but to stab a knife into his side and spill his guts all over the grassy floor of an abandoned bunker somewhere along the Adriatic coast. It was all his fault really, he told himself. If he'd just been able to rescue Bucky from falling, the way Bucky had saved his sorry ass a hundred times before both in Brooklyn and during the war...
The knife fell to the floor with a dull thud. "Don't know if I ever went against orders before," Bucky said, hanging his head. "It just... it doesn't make sense to let you live, even though I know it's what someone else wants me to do — I want you alive! What use are you to me dead? I need to know who I am. But to let you live, it's like... me suddenly deciding not to breathe."
Steve found himself fighting back tears. "You're doing well."
"And you're out of your mind for following me. Should've knocked me out just now when you had the chance. Knew you wouldn't of course. You ain't got a sense of self-preservation."
"That's why my shield has a big, colorful target painted onto it."
Steve couldn't help but smile when that got a short chuckle from the other man.
"Heh, so the paintjob was your stupid idea?" Bucky asked.
Steve unstrapped the shield from his back and wiped some dirt off it. "Here, take it. They won't be shooting at me after all."
"Have I used it before?" Bucky stood up and held it in front of him and the sight caused Steve to dig his fingers into the earth where he was sitting.
"Let's go." Steve grabbed the bag Bucky had been carrying as he hurried out of the bunker's cool shade. From then on they stayed off the roads and dashed from bunker to bunker, always checking first that both the sky and the landscape were clear.
The mountains were looming closer now and Steve peered out of the bunker they'd just entered to spy out the next one. Ahead he saw one which was near a rusting railway bridge that spanned a wide river bed consisting mainly of shingle with only the occasional rivulet of water flowing in it.
"Hold on," Bucky hissed.
Steve couldn't hear anything, but he stayed put. He followed Bucky's line of sight and there on a rocky outcrop to their left were three figures.
"One local civilian and two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents," Bucky whispered. "We'll have to wait until they move on... or take them out if they start checking all the bunkers here."
"We're not gonna kill anyone."
"They're walking in our direction. It'd be the easiest thing to just shoot them."
"No!"
"What if I only killed them a little?" Bucky nudged one of his elbows into Steve's side before he could reply. "We can't run — best we can hope for is that they do a sloppy job of searching for us. How do you feel about the old hide-on-the-ceiling trick?"
Steve agreed and while the rough concrete of the domed roof dug into Steve's palms, the worn walls provided enough handholds to keep himself up. His arms were tiring after only a couple of minutes and he hated to think about the strain this was putting on Bucky. If Bucky fell, at least he'd fall with the Captain America shield bright and visible on his back, which would hopefully stop anyone from shooting at him straight away. The footsteps were drawing closer.
"This one's also clear," an agent said, poking his head in briefly before walking on.
Steve looked over and saw the muscles in Bucky's right arm vibrating — his face was dripping with sweat. The agents were still within earshot, he knew, because he could hear their voices. Bucky had closed his eyes in concentration. As soon as he thought the agents were gone Steve climbed down and looked out of the bunker.
"They're gone."
He helped Bucky down and let him collapse on the ground. If Steve had wanted S.H.I.E.L.D. to find them, well, that right there had been his opportunity. Turning that bit of information over in his mind he decided he didn't feel guilty. Bucky was up quicker than Steve had expected.
"Let's go," Bucky said.
The mountains hadn't looked that far away when Steve had set eyes on them back in that first cornfield they'd landed in, but dusk was fast approaching and they still had some way to go. The ploughed earth ahead of him was bunker-free.
"Can't see one, you?"
Bucky shook his head. "Head for that group of trees."
"Okay." Steve checked the skies one last time and then he led the way, Bucky right behind him. By the time they reached the trees a new light had appeared on the horizon and was closing in fast.
Steve studied the light — it had a distinct blue-tinge, one he'd seen many times before. "It think it's Ironman, we need to find better cover fast."
The descending darkness wouldn't conceal their movements, but neither would the trees protect them from Tony's infra-red sensors, so he urged Bucky to make a dash for it across open ground. It wasn't long before Bucky spotted another cluster of bunkers. When they reached it they hurled themselves into the closest one and pressed themselves up against opposing walls. After a few minutes there was a thud accompanied by metallic clunking sounds as Ironman landed nearby, the glow of the arc reactor streaming in through the doorway.
"Bruce, do you read me? Yeah, no, I think it was just a couple of deer or something."
Steve couldn't hear the reply, but he didn't need to hear Bruce's part of the conversation. Tony was saying enough, thankfully.
"I don't know." A pause, then, "The sooner you discover a way to detect vibranium at a distance I'll build the machine and we can all go home!" The blue light was getting brighter and Tony's voice clearer. "We've tried being quiet. So far no Cap and no Winter Soldier. Thought maybe if we just announced ourselves the Winter Solider might try to assassinate us. Yeah, no, this Red Room stuff gives me the creeps. What if the Winter Soldier is in those houses right now creating his own army of brainwashed lackeys?"
Steve clenched his fists at his side. He had to let them know who the Winter Soldier actually was, because if all the Avengers were after them, they really didn't stand much of a chance... and he couldn't risk Bucky's life on the off-chance that he'd be able to evade not only S.H.I.E.L.D., but also all of his team mates. He also knew he couldn't just walk out with his hands in the air without warning Bucky first. The light suddenly dimmed — Ironman might have turned his back on their bunker — and Steve took that chance to step across the floor to stand next to Bucky.
Outside, Tony continued talking to Bruce. "Uh-huh, I hear you, but 'no'."
"Ironman's my team mate, my friend. He trusts me. Listen, I've got to tell Ironman who you are. He'll listen to me," Steve whispered.
"It's bad enough the guy has Cap under his control," Tony said. "I'm just getting flashbacks to Loki is all. No wonder Clint is taking this so personally. Wait, could you give me a minute. I think I heard something." A pause. "Bruce! Send back-up now!"
Steve could hear Tony's footsteps approaching and now he could kick himself for having made a noise. If he started running now he'd have a bit of a head start on Tony and whatever back-up he'd called in, but that was about it. By the sounds of it Tony'd either knock him out or take him in if he caught him. He realized now, too late, that Tony wouldn't believe him if he told him the Winter Soldier was Bucky — not straight away at least. Not if they thought he was under some kind of mind control, especially considering what he'd told Tony back in medical. He'd just believe the Winter Soldier was exploiting his weak spot. Steve reached up to feel the dog tags through his shirt. Of course... maybe he was under the Winter Soldier's mind control. Maybe Bucky was dead after all. The footsteps were getting closer and he still didn't have a decent plan. Damn.
"We've gotta make a run for it," Bucky hissed, pushing Steve towards the bunker's exit. When they were out of the bunker Steve realized too late that Bucky was holding the shield in front of him. Bucky swung his metal arm and launched it full force at Tony. The blue light flickered, but didn't go out. Then the back-up Tony had called in made its presence known: Steve heard a gunshot, but he didn't look in the direction the sound had come from, instead leaping towards Tony, who was lying flat on his back.
"He really does have Cap's shield," Tony was saying. "Shit. Bruce, I don't think I can move my amour right now... attempting system reboot."
"Tony, are you okay?" Steve didn't know what he could do. There was another gunshot and he could hear the sound of voices drawing closer.
"Get the shield!" Bucky shouted. "We've got to go now, before his systems are working again." Steve ignored him.
"Cap," Tony's amour didn't move an inch, but he imagined Tony turning his head slightly inside his helmet. "I know it must all seem real to you, I know you've been brainwashed and can't help it, but please, think. You saw Bucky die. You know this man isn't him."
Bucky grabbed Steve by his shirt collar and tried to yank him to his feet. "Asshole, get up!"
Steve tore his eyes away from Tony, stood up and allowed Bucky to drag him away from his prone team mate. Bucky had shouldered the shield again and was leading the way: he rushed them through a grove of trees, skidded on the pebbled ground beyond and jumped over an agricultural fence to get back onto open ground until they hit a tarmac road, which they followed. Behind them Steve could hear shouting and in the far distance the sound of a Quinjet starting up. Bucky was slowing down.
"C'mon, they're catching up!" Steve urged him on.
"Fuck you!" Bucky shouted back and clamped his metal hand over his right biceps. The gun shots, Steve realized — one of the bullets had hit its target. His throat went dry. They were actually going to kill Bucky if they got a clean line of sight. He'd known that was a possibility, but now they had shot him... thankfully Bucky was carrying the shield on his back, but they needed to shrug off their pursuers, which was going to be difficult once the Quinjet was in the air above them. They also weren't going to get very far on foot.
He was aware that there were likely bunkers in the fields around them, but he wasn't sure how much use that was. They'd be the first places S.H.I.E.L.D. would come looking for them if they left the road now. A single light source was heading right for them on the road. Probably someone on a motorbike, Steve thought.
Bucky waved and then shouted in what was most definitely neither Russian nor English.
The motorcyclist stopped and got off his bike. Steve couldn't understand a word either were saying, but Bucky was shouting back even as he shoved the guy off the road.
"Get on!" Bucky shouted and Steve didn't waste time. His priority was to get Bucky to safety.
"Hold on tight," he told Bucky as he tried to squeeze as much power out of the bike as possible, leaving behind the bike's cursing owner. Bucky was pressed hot against his back with his arms wrapped around his waist, just like old times — except old times hadn't included Bucky being a brainwashed, amnesiac, ex-Soviet assassin. They were close to the mountains, but now S.H.I.E.L.D. knew they were here, was there even any point in finding the complex they'd been heading for? Surely it wouldn't take S.H.I.E.L.D. long to find it, now they knew where to focus their search. The moon was bright in the sky. Ahead of them was a long straight section in the road, so he turned the lights off and hoped his night vision would suffice. It was better than most people's due to the serum and the full moon was high in the sky.
He focused on the road which snaked and wound its way around the mountain's steep slopes. Insects were getting stuck in his mouth; he had to scrunch up his eyes against the air streaking past him. They'd have to get off the bike any minute now or the Quinjet would catch up with them.
Bucky seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Here!"
Steve dragged the bike off the road and threw it into the bunker Bucky had spotted. When he looked up he caught the moon reflecting off Bucky's arm; he was at the edge of a forested patch on the mountainside. Bucky was looking around wildly, leaping up onto fallen trees and large rocks to get a better overview of the land. The sound of the Quinjet engines was drawing closer and in the distance he could see search lights scanning the forest. Bucky pointed up the mountainside and started clambering up the steep, earthy slope. Steve rushed ahead and reached back for Bucky, who was not beyond being bodily pulled to safety at this point. From the outside it looked just like any of the other bunkers they'd been in: domed, tiny and made of thick concrete. There were no doors or windows, just holes in the concrete. He let go of Bucky who fell to his knees and started searching the ground with his hands.
It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. "Lift this up!"
Steve grabbed hold of the rusted metal handle and pulled. It was a very large concrete lid and under it blackness. Bucky swung down into it with his metal arm and Steve could just about make out where the handholds were. He followed Bucky and when his head was below surface level reached up and pulled the lid shut behind him. He could feel a metal ring on this side too and used it to make sure the lid was tight. The ground was disturbed though and their footprints were probably all around the bunker. It would be obvious that they'd gone down this hole come daylight, but maybe it would be enough to trick S.H.I.E.L.D. until then.
It was pitch black, the air smelt damp, and he had to listen out for the sounds Bucky was making, so he wouldn't end up kicking him in head by climbing down too fast. Once they were at the bottom of the shaft Bucky grabbed the bag off him and pulled a small flashlight out of it. They were standing in front of a metal door with a keypad. Bucky tapped the code in and the door swung open.
"That door won't stop the Hulk for long," Steve commented.
"It won't have to," Bucky said, already tearing open a metal switchbox of some kind in the corridor beyond. He pressed some buttons, then entered another code onto a keypad there. "Run!"
Bucky grabbed hold of Steve's arm and rushed off down the corridor. The blast threw Steve forward onto his knees and Bucky fell with him. A cloud of dust enveloped them, sending them both into a coughing fit. When Steve had caught his breath again he reached for the flashlight and scanned the corridor. One end was caved in and at the other end was a door. It had a logo on it — a Hydra logo.
