AN: There is some torture in this chapter. Most of it is implied, but some of it isn't.
AN2: Harley, that is mentioned in this chapter, is the kid from Iron Man 3.
Two members of Hydra walk into a bar. One of them orders water. "Hail Hydra," he whispers into his glass. The other one resists the urge to facepalm and orders beer instead.
"We still haven't heard anything from the teams we sent after the Asset," the one with the water reports.
The other man grimaces.
"I think it is safe to assume that they are dead."
His superior glares daggers at him but still fails to say anything.
"We lost some of our best agents. We can't exactly afford to lose many more. Are we going to implement phase two of the Operation?"
"I'm not giving the kill order," he says finally, "He's too valuable."
"But-"
"Capture and wipe. It's time to put Winter back to sleep. Unless he goes on the offensive or makes contact with Captain America, phase two is not an option."
When Steve goes to speak with Tony, Pepper warns him, with an apologetic smile, "He and Bruce are doing Science." Steve can hear the capital S. Dread fills him and he thinks about leaving, but decides to risk it in the end.
JARVIS opens the door of the lab for him and he enters cautiously. He doesn't want to get blown up again. He knew he should have brought his shield. Damn Sam for making him leave it.
"You don't need to carry it with you all the time, Steve. It is not healthy. And you are scaring people. Remember that old man who thought aliens were attacking again when he saw you with the shield? He almost had a heart attack."
It sounded sensible at the time.
(Sam just wants to play with his shield again. Steve knows.)
Bruce is typing on the computer and Tony is bent over a mess of wires and metal.
"Bruce," Tony says without looking away from his project.
"No," Bruce answers, equally engrossed in his own project.
"Bruce."
"No."
"Bruuuuuce."
"No. It's a terrible idea."
"It is a wonderful idea. "
"No."
Tony looks at Bruce, "Please?"
"Stop giving me the puppy dog eyes, Tony."
"You're not even looking, how do you-"
"I am awesome." Bruce says dryly, still looking at the screen, his fingers typing furiously on the keyboard.
"Fine. I'll just ask Harley instead."
"Harley is thirteen."
"So?"
"Am I interrupting?" Steve interrupts, and Tony spins around at the sound of his voice.
"Capsicle!" he says with a grin and rubs his hands together in glee. His elbow knocks something down, the mess of metal and wires clicks ominously on the table behind him, and Bruce's eyes go green.
Damn it, Sam.
A little while letter, after they have transferred to the other lab, Bruce has left to find a change of clothes and Dummy has finished putting out the fire, they sit on the chairs and Tony turns to him expectantly, "What brings you here?"
"I have a few questions."
"About Barnes."
"Yes. Peggy confirmed it was him."
"He destroyed the phone. I don't know where he is."
"But he must have had it for a while. Can you tell where he was?"
Tony contemplates him for a few seconds. "JARVIS," he says finally, not taking his eyes off Steve.
"The file has been transferred to the Captain's phone." The AI responds.
"Thank you," Steve says, both to Tony and to JARVIS.
"You're welcome, Captain," JARVIS responds and Tony just waves him off.
Steve gets up and turns to leave, uncomfortable in the sudden silence that follows. He and Tony get along until they don't. Steve prefers to leave before the don't happens.
"JARVIS, music," he hears before the door closes behind him.
Sam and Steve retrace Bucky's steps but they don't find anything of importance. He doesn't return to any of the places he went to before, and no one remembers him. One camera caught him, but the picture is blurry and no other camera catches him so they can't see what he was doing at the locations he was at. Some seem obvious, like the address of the coffee shop, but the others are a complete mystery.
"Well, he seems to like Indian food," Steve says, while staring at the restaurant's logo just barely visible on the photograph.
"We are not staking out all the Indian restaurants in the city."
"I'm not suggesting we do," Steve responds, sounding tired and defeated.
Sam doesn't like the sound of Steve's voice, but he has been expecting this to happen sooner or later. The initial high of the chase had to wear off.
They need a distraction.
They need someone in trouble. Steve can't see someone in trouble and not help. He would get his righteous face on, his back straight, his hair shining yellow in the sun and his shield glinting heroically.
Sam knows that shields can't glint heroically, but that shield can. It can.
It always reminds him of the comic books and he can't help but snicker covertly every time it happens. The first time it happened, Steve caught him and Sam really can't bear having to endure Captain America's disappointed look again. Howling Commandoes were his favorite heroes, okay?
(Sam is still a little boy at heart.)
Steve doesn't know it, but Sam took that shield and struck a heroic pose in front of the glass, trying to see his reflection, when he was waiting for Steve to wake up in the hospital after the Winter Soldier did a number on him.
Hawkeye caught him doing it, but he just snorted and said, "Been there, done that." He left shortly after, as soon as he heard that Steve's prognosis was good.
Sam is just happy it wasn't Natasha who caught him.
Hawkeye won't tell.
*/*
Clint totally tells.
Sam's plan works: they find trouble. Steve seems to have a gift for it.
They are both a bit bloody and banged up afterwards, but the figurative black cloud is no longer above Steve's head.
Sam gingerly sits down in a chair and winces when he inevitably lands on a bruise. Everything hurts.
Steve smirks.
Damn, super soldier, Sam thinks, glaring at the smug bastard. His bruises have already healed.
Steve opens his mouth but whatever he was about to say is interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He looks at the caller id. "It's Tony," he says and puts the phone on speaker.
"Are you two done saving kittens from trees?"
"Why, do you have a kitten that needs saving?" Steve asks at the same time as Sam says,
"Those were not kittens. Kittens don't have guns."
"Why are you calling?" Steve asks. He knows from experience that it is best to cut Tony off before he really gets started.
"JARVIS has something on Barnes. A hotel. He might still be there."
He's not. But there is a broken window across the street and when they enter the building, and that particular room, it smells too clean.
There is no blood, no bullet holes, and no other sign of fighting.
There was a struggle here, Steve knows. He wonders who won. He can't tell who won.
He can't tell who won.
Steve gets too close, misses him by the minutes and it's not that Bucky doesn't want to be found, he just hates being hunted.
Back off, he thinks, back off.
But Steve doesn't. He keeps hunting him and some vicious part of Bucky decides that he is not going to be found. He will disappear, out of spite.
That little bastard doesn't get to turn him into prey.
(Steve gets to do much but he doesn't get to do that)
Often, Bucky dreams of seeing Steve fall. Sometimes, he jumps after him, sometimes he does not.
Often, Steve dreams of seeing Bucky fall. Sometimes, he doesn't jump after him, sometimes he does.
It's been a few days since they found the hotel in which Bucky was staying. Steve had high hopes for this lead, but days have passed and-
"There's no trace of him anywhere, Sam."
"We will find something," Sam consoles, but he sounds uncertain.
"They have him, they caught him," Steve despairs, convinced and Sam grimaces.
"Have you considered the possibility that he simply doesn't want to be found?"
Sam's eyes are gentle even though his words cut. Steve feels both like falling and seeing Bucky fall at the same time. "I have," he admits, "I don't care much for it."
Sam sighs.
"He's remembering, I'm sure of it-"
"I know."
Steve's voice is bewildered when he asks "How?"
"Everyone else who went after him is dead."
Steve smiles, happy, and Sam is not sure whether he is happy that someone finally agrees with him or that those who want to harm Barnes tend to end up dead. Sam is just grateful that he seems to be safe by association.
Months pass.
They don't find Bucky.
Steve stabs a man, "I saw the footage from the bank, when he was wiped," he whispers into his ear, like a secret, and twists the blade. This man was a member of STRIKE. The betrayal burns, he is so angry he can barely think straight. Their definition of what a team is obviously differs.
He misses his Howling Commandoes fiercely.
He pulls out the knife and blood gushes out. The man looks at him like he has never seen him before. Steve relishes in it, even though, deep inside-
at the bottom; at the bottom of an ocean, where it's so dark, some fishes are born blind
-it hurts.
"Where is he?" Steve asks, again.
"We don't have him," the Hydra agent rasps out. Steve stares. The image before his eyes blurs. He can't see the man anymore, just Hydra, faceless. He swore once, that he would destroy them all.
He leaves. He knows how a man looks when he is about to die, he doesn't need to see it.
Sam is waiting for him outside. He focuses on Steve's face, and resolutely avoids looking behind him and into the room. It reminds Steve of himself and of a room-
rooms
-he didn't look inside of; it reminds him of Bucky, shivering in the snow and the scent of puke in the air.
Steve's stomach doesn't roll. He thinks that he should probably feel nausea.
"Hydra doesn't have him," he tells Sam, and that is when relief finally hits him. The pain follows at its heels, sharp and devastating.
Sam was right, Bucky is hiding from him.
He closes the door and starts walking away.
Sam catches up to him. "Steve," he says, "Steve."
"I know."
They enter the kitchen and Steve goes to grab a coffee cup but Sam stops him.
"That was torture."
"I know," Steve repeats and wonders whether he would have done something like this before Dr. Erskine and the serum, before good became great and bad became worse.
Sam frowns, struggling with the words he wants to say.
Steve waits him out, patiently. He glances at the bullet holes in the wall, behind Sam's head. There were only two Hydra agents in this safe house, and the first one died when they stormed it. Steve doubts that he would have had useful information. He breathes in and out, controlled, and resists the urge to rub at his skin. It feels raw.
"I think you should call Natasha," Sam says and the words sound light. It's not what he was about to say.
Steve is grateful. Steve is so, so grateful. "Natasha is out in the world, finding herself."
"She's bored as hell."
Steve looks surprised by Sam's knowledge.
"We may be exchanging text messages…and phone calls. She's a friend. Sometimes I just need something to distract me from your gloominess."
Steve shoots him a displeased look, but doesn't deny the part about gloominess, "I still don't understand why you think I need to call Natasha," he says, crossing his arms but then Sam glances down, noticing the change in posture and Steve deliberately uncrosses them.
Sam shrugs, playing at casualness, "She may have some insights. Besides, you can show her that video that's been bothering you, the one taken in front of the Smithsonian."
"You thought it was nothing."
"But you think it's something. It doesn't hurt to get a second opinion."
"It's been months."
"And yet, I've seen you watching it again a few days ago."
"That video is creepy."
It doesn't really matter if Sam agrees. He just needs Natasha to come-
Steve is spiraling down, down, down
-so he can get some respite. Sam needs his beauty sleep. Not everyone can be a super soldier with lowered sleep requirements.
Steve makes the call.
"I'll be there in two days," Natasha says cheerfully.
"Wait- How do you know where we are?"
She laughs and hangs up.
Steve looks at Sam accusingly and Sam raises his hands up, in surrender, "Don't look at me, I didn't tell her."
Two days later, when Natasha sees the video, she blanches. Then she takes a deep, shuddering breath, and scrubs a hand over her face.
"What is it?" Steve asks, tense and too impatient to be nice about it.
She looks at him gravely, "He has an off switch." There is something dead in her voice, dead and rotting and stinking up the place.
Everyone is still for a moment, and then Steve gets up and leaves the hotel room without a word.
"The name is pretty descriptive," Sam remarks, when the sound of Steve's footsteps dies down.
Natasha nods, not looking at him.
"How does it work?"
"It's triggered by a word."
"How do you know this?" He's pretty sure he knows the answer already. When she meets his eyes, he almost regrets asking. She looks ill. There is pain in her eyes, old pain, and he can't help but guess: "Do you have one as well?"
She looks away. "All those who knew my codes are dead," she says, tiredly.
He doesn't need to ask how they died.
Hours later, Steve comes back, composed but with a hard glint in his eyes. He sits in a chair across from Natasha. "How many people do I need to find and where do I find their names?"
"I don't know," Natasha answers, "Not many. In my case, it was one technician, one doctor, and two more people."
"That's less than I expected," Sam says.
"When many people know the codes, the operative becomes vulnerable. The possibility that someone would sell the codes to the highest bidder grows with the number of people who know them."
"How do I learn who they are?"
"The woman in the video was one. Start there," Natasha advises.
"She's dead."
"Then research her life. Find out who she worked with. Go through files."
Steve grimaces.
"There is no easy way to do this," Natasha says, not without sympathy.
Steve nods, determined, "I don't care how difficult it is, or how long it is going to take. I'm going to find them. I may not be able to find Bucky, but I will find them. I will find every single one of them."
Natasha studies him for a few moments. "Good," she says, pleased, and then she grins, and it is too savage to be anything else but a show of teeth.
Sam is not so sure anymore that calling her was a good idea.