I don't own Captain America.

Chapter Six: Realigning

(Bucky Point of View)

Since Rumlow was white, Bucky waited for his handler to make the first move. Rumlow thought carefully, then finally made his move with one of the middle pawns. Bucky followed suite, a plan starting to form in his hand. He mimicked Rumlow's move.

"So," Rumlow thought, moving again, a horse. As he started the conversation, it felt natural. "Anything on your agenda when you get back?"

"I look forward to my not so Hydra room!" Bucky immediately responded, moving. This earned a chuckle from Rumlow. "And cake. Definitely cake."

"Cake?" Rumlow raised an eyebrow, moving blindly.

Bucky frowned. How to explain it? "Steve's gotten in a habit of baking a cake for me whenever I'm in distress. I think he's trying to cheer me up." He moved.

"And what's your favorite cake?" Rumlow asked, mirroring his move in an attempt to block Bucky.

Bucky thought hard. Rumlow was attempting to get to know him, that much he knew. He wondered if it was part of Rumlow's plan to try to befriend him. That still puzzled him, what Rumlow had revealed to him the other day. He still didn't understand why Rumlow would want to be friends with him.

"It depends," Bucky finally admitted. "I mean, I like chocolate. But, it's not always chocolate that I want. Angel food cake is good too. Steve always lets me decide what I want. But, he's always insistent on doing the cooking for me instead of letting me help. He said he wants to do a service for me." A soft smile spread on Bucky's face at the memories. Ever since Steve became his guardian, it was this way.

Rumlow softly smiled to. "And it works? It cheers you up?"

Bucky frowned. Was Rumlow implying that he wanted to bake a cake for him? He wasn't sure if he wanted that. "Sometimes," he admitted carefully. "But, not all the time."

"Ah." Rumlow moved again. There was silence between them for a moment as both digested the conversation. Then, Rumlow seemed to move forward. "What kind of hobbies do you like?"

A sudden curiosity came over Bucky. "I thought you already knew?" he asked Rumlow. After all, Rumlow had implied many times that he had Bucky's memories, but for some reason Bucky couldn't understand or remember why.

Brock shrugged. "Yes," he carefully admitted, moving as Bucky had already moved. "But, sometimes conversation still helps. It can bring the memories more to the forefront of my mind."

"My memories?" Bucky asked.

Brock nodded. "Remember, I have more than two sets of memories in my head." Bucky puzzled at this, so Rumlow added, "Your handlers. I have the memories of your handlers. You don't know what that's like. Sometimes I get things jumbled up. I'm not sure how Pierce handled it, even though I have the memories. And it's like this, just as you don't remember every single day of your life with clarity, or even the average person for that matter, the same it is with these additional memories."

"You have my handlers' memories?" Bucky gasped in shock. Rumlow nodded.

Silence reigned once again. "Sometimes I need something to jog my mind, just like with an average person," Rumlow admitted.

Bucky nodded. "Ah." He didn't quite understand, but, he supposed he could glimpse how confusing it could be.

They stopped the game briefly, and Bucky readjusted his arm so that the needle wasn't bothering him as much. Bucky gazed deep into Rumlow's eyes. "If you love me," he asked, sincerity in his gaze. "Then why do you do these things to me?"

Rumlow looked him back straight in the eye. "I have my priorities," he admitted. "And, I am doing this for your own good. But, that doesn't mean that I don't care, because I do. How can I not? You're apart of me."

Looking away in discomfort, Bucky sighed. Rumlow wanted to be friends, that much he knew. But, could he be friends with this man when he was his handler and in essence his kidnapper?

Fortunately, or unfortunately, however you looked at it, Rumlow seemed to catch on because of his feelings. He gently tapped Bucky's wrists, causing Bucky to avert his eyes to him again. "Hey," he whispered softly, a comforting tone in his voice. "Like I said, it's not all business. And I do enjoy it when I get to spend some personal time with you. I mean, chess, our conversations, it's all because I care about you. I want you comfortable, and I'm trying to make you comfortable."

After some thought, Bucky nodded. He could understand that. Sometimes Rumlow would even hold him while he cried. And he didn't deny that physical contact with Rumlow felt good sometimes. After returning to Hydra, Rumlow would often hold Bucky to help him calm down. And they would converse while Rumlow gently rocked him back and forth. It was soothing, actually. And it was strange. A part of Bucky felt like he was a little child being comforted again.

Patting his wrists, Rumlow moved again. "Do try to get some rest while you're over there," he voiced his concern, and once more Bucky couldn't help but feel like he cared. "I know that you struggle with that sometimes, and it worries me."

"Don't worry," Bucky murmured softly, a small smile now on his face. "I do what I can to achieve that, and you know it. Sometimes the exhaustion does it for me."

Rumlow chuckled a little. They both knew that. Bucky sometimes had the capability, recently, to fall asleep at the least opportune times. "As long as you get some rest," he encouraged. And there was a little sparkle of delight in his eyes. "You have a tendency to make people worry about you, you know that right? I think it's a super power that you have."

Bucky snorted. "No." There was no way that he was going to own up to that one. And there was no way that he was going to admit it either. If anything, he was the one looking out for others, in his opinion. He was the guardian.

Rumlow must have guessed his thoughts from his emotions because he knew him so well. "Maybe once upon a time," he admitted, and there was not doubt that his mind was going to Steve as a small frown formed on his face. "But not anymore. Somehow you even managed to wiggle your way into my heart."

A sly smile formed on Bucky. "Does that mean I have an influence on you that you don't care to admit?" he guessed.

Frowning, Rumlow hardened up. But there was still warmth in his eyes. "Don't even think about that," he mildly warned.

Bucky chuckled. He knew that he was spot on. And he had to wonder, how many times had he accidentally influenced Rumlow without realizing it? "Because you know that it's true," he taunted just slightly and Rumlow sent a glare at him that was good natured none the less.

"Don't get any ideas," Rumlow warned.

"Oh, but why not?" Bucky teased, chuckling, and for the first time, Bucky realized that he was starting to enjoy himself around Rumlow. A soft and fond for him smile lit Rumlow's face. "See?" the man encouraged. "We can get along. And we can be friends."

"Yeah," Bucky breathed, the realization striking him as well. Maybe, even though they were handler and Asset, there was still room for friendship.

It was a foreign concept to him. The man had enslaved him. Why was it that he was now willing to consider friendship? Why was it that Bucky was willing to open his heart up to the man? Why was he starting to have fun with him, as friends do?

A gentle feeling was nudged in him. As Bucky looked up, he saw a gentle expression towards him on Rumlow's face. "I do care about you," he repeated. And he sent the caring feelings for good measure, to encourage Bucky to the truth more.

A soft feeling of relaxation flowed into Bucky. Peace started coming into him. While he wasn't sure he believed in what Hydra stood for (he wasn't sure what the current standards were now that things changed with Brock), he was fairly sure that they had the same standards, that they were just administering it in a different way.

Why Rumlow relied on these other methods to further Hydra's goals, Bucky didn't know. But, a sneaking suspicion entered into him. Was it because of him?

Rumlow snorted. "No," he answered that question firmly. And Bucky couldn't help but wonder if there was denial there. Ever since kidnapping him, Rumlow was acting differently, Bucky was pretty sure. The man who had first kidnapped him had changed as they went through their ordeal together to get back to Hydra, and he was still changing. He didn't wipe Buck's mind like he was supposed to. He was a bit loose and was a lot less strict with Bucky. He wasn't as cruel to Bucky as he should have been.

A sigh escaped Bucky. Rumlow was watching him in compassion. Suddenly, Bucky didn't know what he wanted anymore. "I just don't want to think right now," Bucky leaned his head back. He listened to the drip, drip, drip, of the IV.

After a moment, Rumlow nodded. The man looked away before looking back at him again. Carefully sliding the chess board so to another table so that the pieces weren't disturbed in case they decided to play again, he folded his arms, leaning forward. Then he patted Bucky carefully on the metal arm. "What do you want to do then?" he asked, and Bucky caught his eyes. The man was serious in his engagement. He really was leaving it up to Bucky, unlike he usually did.

Bucky shrugged. What could they do? "I don't know," he admitted. He thought for a minute, though he didn't really want to. "Talk, I guess?"

Rumlow nodded. "What do you want to talk about?"

"How about how you plan to take care of me from now on?" Bucky suggested. Something about that had been nagging at his mind for a while. He still wasn't sure what his fate was meant to be in Hydra. "Once you conquer the world?" he continued asking. "What then? What about me? Will I go back into cryofreeze?"

Rumlow shook his head. "No." And Bucky knew that he was sincere. He wasn't about to send Bucky back into the dreaded freezer.

The next question Bucky was hesitant about, but he didn't know why. "The bond is different," he began carefully. "Somehow, if I get injured, you get injured in the same way. And if you get injured, I get injured in the same way. It wasn't that way with my other handlers. But... does that mean that if one of us dies... the other one dies?"

Taking his time to consider the question, Rumlow nodded. "Theoretically. And that has been the concern of all the Hydra personnel."

A gasp of fear entered Bucky. His frame shook. The consequences of this he knew, and he didn't like. "But... but..." he wasn't sure what else to say. Rumlow sent comfort through the link. But then, he was back to asking his question. "I live a long time! Steve and I have an extended life because of the serum! In fact, it's theorized that we could live forever! But, you age! Does that mean I'm going to die? Does that mean that Steve is going to live all alone?!"

Rumlow softly patted him on the hand, being careful of the IV. "Peace," he murmured softly. "My personnel are aware of the situation and of what the serum does. Remember how you were eventually given some of the serum from Howard Stark as well? Well, Hydra has that on file. I have no intention of letting you life a short life. In fact, the serum can reverse aging. That's why you and Steve are always in your optimum age. I'm going to be getting the serum as well, once the first batch has been completed. Then neither of us will age. You'll be able to have a normal life with me."

Bucky's mouth shot open. He wasn't sure how to handle this. Rumlow with a serum? What would that do? And what would that do to the bond?

"Peace," Rumlow soothed him again. "It shouldn't do anything to the bond other than make it stronger, make us closer."

So, Rumlow had guessed what he was thinking. And the truth was, Bucky wasn't sure that he wanted a stronger bond. It was already a strong bond as it was, and it had brought a lot of problems for Bucky.

"Peace," Rumlow soothed again. "At least you won't get to die." They were silent for another minute or to.

It surprised Bucky that Rumlow hadn't mentioned his comment about Steve. He knew that Brock wasn't very fond of the man. But, even more surprising, he was still willing to comfort him. And it shocked Bucky that he was going to get the serum too. He wasn't sure how to respond to that.

That Steve irked him and Brock would set it aside for Bucky's comfort touched Bucky's heart. Given time, some part of him hoped that Brock could patch his "friendship", or whatever was left of it, with Steve. He knew that they had originally been friends until Steve had been betrayed by Brock. And, Steve had commented to him before that he'd wondered if he and Brock had even been friends, or if it was all a ploy to use him. And, it had irked Steve to no end that Brock had known about Bucky and had been part of his abuse when Brock knew well that Steve was very close and attached to Bucky.

But this brought another question to Bucky's mind that he wanted answered. Brock gave him his full attention, sensing that there was something on his mind. "What is it?" he prompted gently.

Bucky was hesitant at first, but at another gentle prompting, he followed through on his question. But that didn't mean he wasn't nervous about it. He was growing confident in it, though. "Were you..." he hesitated. "Were you... ever really friends... with Steve? Or was it all a ploy to gain his trust?"

Rumlow pulled back in surprise at this. "That's what you want to know?" he asked. Bucky nodded earnestly. At this Brock chuckled some, looking away in thought. "Maybe," he finally admitted. At a look from Bucky, he admitted, "Okay, yeah! Once upon a time, we were. I knew his past, even with you," he added on, and Bucky gulped, accepting the truth as it is. "But that doesn't mean that at one point I wasn't friends with Steve. That's why it hurt when he dropped that building on me."

"He felt betrayed by your actions," Bucky pointed out, trying to help Brock see the reverse side.

Rumlow snorted. "You have to remember, just because we were friends doesn't mean that I didn't have my priorities. My first loyalties are to Hydra and were to Hydra, remember?" Bucky shifted uncomfortably. There was always that.

"Did you never... then... feel sorry... at least a little bit... for me?" Bucky was hesitant.

A sad smile was on Rumlow's face. "Always," he admitted. "I knew what they'd done to you. They'd turned you into something other than human. But, see, we believed there was no feeling in you at that point. You never reacted, at least not with emotion. There was nothing there. So, as I saw it, it was too late anyways. You were dead. You weren't even human anymore, so what was the point in worrying, except for our lives?"

Bucky shivered at that. Something about the answer bothered him, and as he thought on it, he realized that it was because it wasn't true. Brock looked into his eyes. "Of course, now I realize how wrong I was. Even Pierce believed it, because he could sense no feelings from you. How wrong we were, despite the fact that you could not feel. After all, if you were merely a dead machine, there's no way you would be talking to me like this right now."

Bucky shivered again, and Rumlow patted him gently on the hand. His eyes drifted over to the drip, and so did Bucky's. "Almost done now." And indeed it was, for the bag was mostly shrunken.

Bucky wasn't sure that he liked the answer. It made him afraid, and he didn't know why. Maybe it was a ghost of after fear that was escaping him, since Rumlow was right. He couldn't feel anything then. Or, as his therapist from the outside world called it, he had been numb.

Gentle compassion nudged into him. Bucky looked up. A lone tear escaped his right eye, and Rumlow gently nudged it away with his finger. It felt comforting, and Bucky leaned in to the touch. "It's all right," Rumlow murmured softly. "Those days aren't coming back, remember?"

"But, I still remember them," Bucky moaned. There tears flowed a little more freely, and Bucky memorized the feeling as Rumlow cupped his cheek.

A sad look came over Brock. "I know," he murmured softly. Then, "Can you not forgive me? Can you not forgive Hydra?"

Wide eyed, Bucky looked up. "I was always afraid. I was never angry. How can I forgive when I was never placing blame or angry to begin with? I don't know what I feel about Hydra, actually. I only know that I'm afraid of it."

Rumlow seemed sad, but nodded. "I guess that's to be expected."

At this moment, the doctors came back in and Bucky gulped, looking up. Rumlow sent some comfort through the link. Everybody but Bucky watched as the last of the medication dripped into him. Then, the doctors stepped up.

Sighing, one of the doctors commented, "It may not be much, but things will eventually get better. The more medication you get and the more IVs you get, the more you will notice a difference, and the more you will feel better."

Bucky shivered briefly, comfort continually being sent to him, but he forced himself to stop intentionally as the doctors began slipping out the needle. One of the bald doctors smiled warmly at him and patted him on the back. "You're all done. You're all free to go."

Sudden excitement coursed through Bucky and he looked up. He was going to see Steve. Looking at Rumlow in anticipation, almost begging, Rumlow nodded at him. "Take care," the man softly acknowledged him.

Standing up for joy, Bucky raced out to the locker room. As usual, he would find that the clothing he had come in would have been laundered. The personnel with keys would let him in, he would change, and then he would finally head back home.

(A little while later)

Bucky frowned. He was sat down in his room, Steve standing over him. Steve had been pacing back and forth for hours, it seemed, and yet the man still hadn't spoken to him after telling him to get upstairs and to escort him. And Bucky had been sitting there for hours.

Bucky didn't want to be the one to break the silence.

Finally, Steve turned back to him, a frantic panic in his eyes. "Where were you?" he demanded to know.

Bucky, for his part, stayed silent. And, in all honesty, he didn't know what to say. Rumlow had told him to be silent about what was happening, after all.

Some part of Steve's face fell when he saw this, and he let out a whine of frustration, grabbing his hair with his hands. "I just had to call the police and let them know that you've finally come home. Do you have any idea how much chaos it's been?"

Bucky, though he was wary, looked up. He didn't like seeing Steve like this. He really didn't. And a part of him knew that Steve wasn't done.

Steve was back to pacing, frantic. One lone tear ran down his eyes. "The government doesn't like this, you disappearing like this. They've been getting after me for a while about this because I can't keep you in check. A lot of people, citizens, are concerned. I have no way to answer them. The judge forced me to appear. They're going to take you away, Bucky. They're going to take you away."

Some part of Bucky started panicking. There was no way he was going to allow that. "No!" he begged.

Steve was crying, and Bucky could see the devastation in his eyes. "I don't have a choice!" he cried. "I couldn't keep you. And I argued that no one can keep you if you don't want to be kept, not even the government. But they ruled against me. I'm loosing my guardianship of you, Bucky."

Bucky was shaking his head, shivering, starting to cry. It was what he was afraid of. "No!" he begged. This couldn't be happening. And he'd pled with Rumlow so hard. Was this what Rumlow wanted?

Steve finally cried and sat on the bed beside him, devastated. "My lawyer called this morning. He thinks they finally managed a negotiation for me to retain guardianship. But it's still at a price, Bucky. And you're still going to be taken away."

Something about that statement made Bucky's blood curl. He immediately knew that he didn't like where this was headed. Steve took a deep breath and then admitted, "You've been admitted into an asylum."

Shock poured through Bucky. For a moment, he forgot how to breath. An insane asylum? He finally found his voice. "No!" he begged in a small whisper, his eyes pleading with Steve, but Steve was carefully looking away from him. "Please no!" Bucky begged. And how was he going to perform his work for Rumlow now?

"I don't have a choice," Steve mourned. "It's either that or loosing you. You've put me in a pickle, Bucky. I have to decide. And I'd rather keep custody of you, than risk having someone else or the government having custody of you. At least with this, I might retain some say. And there's a chance that you'll come back to me."

Panic set in Bucky. "Please no!" he pled again. His world felt like it was falling apart, and he was desperate for an escape.

Steve shook his head. "It's not forever," he said, but there was something about him that wasn't so certain in his answer. "And I'll be visiting you, I promise. I won't abandon you."

Bucky knew the last part was true, but that didn't make it any easier. "Please no!" he begged again, but he could already hear a van pulling up. A part of him was shaking and trembling, but the other part of him was scared, pleading with his handler for mercy. He pled with Rumlow through feelings for help. He didn't know what to do. And he certainly didn't want to be admitted to a mental health hospital.

The doorbell rang. Steve stood up. "Please no!" Bucky begged, reaching out and caching Steve's hand. "They can't do this! They can't sentence me! I wasn't even present! It's illegal!" he begged. And he knew that it was true.

Steve was shaking, but he turned back briefly to Bucky. "I don't have a choice," he breathed. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Fight it!" Bucky begged. "You know it's illegal. I didn't even show up! How can they sentence me without me present? You know it's illegal!"

Steve breathed. "Our lawyer mentioned that already. They're already working on a way."

Bucky let out tears of fear and grief as Steve walked out the door to greet the people below. Pain enveloped him, and he kept sending begging feelings to his handler for mercy. But, what he heard next surprised him as Wakandan accents came from downstairs.

Some part of Bucky's heart briefly stopped. They weren't from the mental asylum, so why were they here?

Footsteps came up the stairs and the door opened a bit. Some Wakandans, mainly women, walked in. Bucky looked up in hope, in desperation.

The lead woman knelt in front of him. "Peace," she murmured. "We're not going to hurt you. We're here to take you and Steve into custody until we can work something out with the US government. But we need to move quick before anyone else comes here."

He trembled, and some part of him was shocked. This was a rescue of sorts. But, how had the Wakandans gotten here? He knew that he was missing information.

The woman must have seen the questions in his eyes, for a kind smile lit her face. "I know you have questions, but now is not the time to answer them. Don't worry about packing. The king wants to meet with you, and he's provided and will provide you with everything you need. Right now, time is of the essence."

Bucky stood up, ready to go. "How did you know?" he breathed. He followed the woman out the door to Steve who had a relieved look on his face.

"We keep track of American politics," she admitted. "Especially since you and Steve are citizens of Wakanda. That, and your lawyer kindly informed us, albeit after we found out."

Her patience with him during this time of crisis was impressive to Bucky. Steve locked the door after everyone was out. They moved him and Steve into vehicles that had very few windows, and then off they went.

Steve turned to the woman, hope on his face for the first time. It was only now that Bucky could see how panicked Steve really was. "What does Lynda have in news?" he asked.

Lynda, the name of the lawyer who worked with Steve and Bucky, brought warm feelings to mind. She was very kind to him, not judgmental at all.

The Wakandan woman answered Steve, "She's appealing to a higher court of law. The irony is, this has gotten out, and people have started protests about the illegalities of the situation. As it is, the judge has been forced to resign."

Bucky and Steve blew out a deep breath. They were both relieved, and Bucky believed that the judge had deserved it. But, something about the way she said made it sound strange. Bucky wondered if Hydra was behind the protests, and that that was Rumlow's way of helping him out. Regardless, it seemed to have the people in Wakanda concerned, by the looks on their faces. They seemed to think there was something suspicious about it.

"And King T'Challa?" Steve asked, more hesitant this time. It was like he was afraid of being reprimanded by the king.

She shrugged, somehow sensing his hidden question. "He holds you to no blame," she admitted, answering his unspoken question. Steve looked relieved. Clearly he thought that he was going to be reprimanded before the king. "But he's concerned about the both of you, especially Bucky and his run away attempts. He wants to speak with Bucky personally, alone ideally."

Bucky gulped. He had no idea how he was going to answer the king about this. The woman must have sensed this as well, for she addressed him personally. "Peace," she replied. "He's concerned about you. You're not in trouble, and you won't be."

But that didn't make Bucky feel any better. Rumlow had told him to keep his mouth shut. But how was he supposed to do that in front of King T'Challa?

For about an hour and a half, Bucky was brooding on his upcoming circumstances. He wasn't looking forward to his conversation with the king, but he knew that it was inevitable. He also knew that it was unavoidable. So, sighing, when they reached the destination, he reluctantly followed the women out.

It was bright, and Bucky scrunched his eyes up. A jet, that no doubt housed the king, waited in front of him. Bucky was motioned in, and he and Steve obeyed. When they did so, Bucky nervously put his hands in his pocket, hiding as inconspicuously as possible behind Steve, even though he knew that T'Challa, who was seated in a chair right in front of him, could see him. But he did his best to remain quiet in hopes that Steve would get all the attention.

T'Challa's eyes were worried, and he eyed Steve up and down to make sure he was okay, taking in his exhausted state. He'd become good friends with Steve and Bucky while in Wakanda. Sam, who was also there in a chair to the right of the king, was eyeing the both of them the same way.

Finally, T'Challa stood up. "Steve," he greeted in his accent that was tainted with relief but also still held some worry. "It's good to see you!" He took Steve's hand in his own and shook it, Steve accepting the touch warmly and graciously as they treated each other as brothers. Bucky did his best to inch away somewhat, despite T'Challa's gaze flickering with concern towards him when he did that (Steve oblivious as he had his back to him), and the women blocking the entrance before sealing it shut for flight.

"You as well," Steve greeted back. He held T'Challa's grip a little longer for comfort before releasing it.

T'Challa next stepped towards Bucky, who stood stalk still. "Bucky," he held his hand out and greeted warmly. Bucky shook his hand out of politeness, still worried. But T'Challa had a worry in his eyes as well, seeing Bucky's nerves.

One of the women stepped up. "Why don't we seat ourselves for flight?" she suggested, and king T'Challa nodded.

"A good idea," he confirmed. Everyone sat down but Bucky until Steve pulled Bucky down to sit on the couch beside him. When he saw that Bucky wouldn't buckle up, he did it for his friend, Bucky frowning at that.

Steve looked up, having finished buckling himself. The plane started moving. "Forgive me, but where are we headed?"

"A secret island that the royal family owns," T'Challa supplied. "Not in Wakanda." T'Challa made sure to emphasize that last part, and part of Bucky wondered if that was due to Bucky's attempted kidnapping at Wakanda.

Steve must have thought the same thing for he added, "Where are you at in your investigation?" But his eyes flickered to Bucky as if he wasn't quite sure that he wanted Bucky to overhear it. T'Challa's expression showed the same thing, and Bucky couldn't help but be mildly annoyed.

"I think I'd like to talk with Bucky before we even discuss something of the topic," the king made his thoughts known as he eyed Bucky closely, causing Bucky to shift in discomfort. That, and Bucky really didn't like the staring.

It didn't take long for the plane to get in the air. When the plane was finally stabilized, T'Challa unbuckled and stood up. "Bucky, if you don't mind?" he motioned.

For a little bit, Bucky stayed seated to see if he could get out of this conversation. His discomfort was evident. But when he couldn't, he sighed, realizing that he had no choice. He unbuckled and made his way towards the area where the King of Wakanda now stood. They entered a separate room in the plane.

The door locked behind them and Bucky jumped slightly. T'Challa held up a comforting hand of peace. He then put a force field around the room (probably not as advanced as Hydra's, as Bucky thought), and for good measure told Bucky, "It's for noise cancellation, that way no one can listen in on us."

Bucky nodded, looking around. There were two comfortable couches seated across from one another. T'Challa motioned for him to sit in one, breaking royal protocol that stated the king or the royal, whichever was higher ranking, must be seated first, and let Bucky sit down. Not wanting to offend the king, he did as he was told. Then T'Challa seated himself, seating himself more gently and with more aristocracy.

For a while neither said anything, and T'Challa observed Bucky. Bucky shifted uncomfortably. But there was also concern in T'Challa's eyes. "How are you?" he finally broke the topic, and Bucky's gut clenched as he figured he knew where this was going, that he knew where this was leading.

Bucky wasn't sure how to answer. "I'm fine," was all that he could say, but both of them knew that this wasn't true. And T'Challa's eyes were in sorrow.

The young king leaned forward. "You're not fine," he concluded. But there was compassion there was well. "We both know that. You've been through a lot. But it's okay not to be fine. We all have times, even kings, when we need to cry and grieve. There is no shame in it."

"I-I don't know if I can," was all Bucky could say, not able to meet the King's gaze. Sorrow was in T'Challa's eyes at this, and he nodded.

"We've all been concerned about you," the king continued, his sharp eyes taking in Bucky's evasive behavior. "And we all know that something is going on. Bucky, I'm not asking you as your king, and I'm not asking you to answer as a subject of my nation. I'm asking as a friend, and I'm begging for an answer as a friend."

Shifting more uncomfortably, Bucky did his best to hold his tears back. How was he supposed to answer that? And so, for a while, the both of them were silent, neither one giving. But, even Bucky knew that he was going to loose this one. So all he did was finally answer, "I'm fine."

T'Challa held out a little longer, and then nodded. "It's okay to ask for help," he prompted more. Bucky started crying more but shook his head. There was no way that he could. "I promise you, you're not in trouble. We want to help you." Bucky shook his head more. But then he couldn't take it anymore. He burst out crying, and his head was in his hands. The stress of the entire situation weighed down on him, and he didn't know what to do anymore. And the truth was, as he now realized, he was too ashamed to admit it to Steve, his closest friend. Maybe that was why T'Challa was having an easier time breaking him down than Steve was.

The king sat beside him and put a hand around his shoulder. "It's all right," he murmured softly. "It's okay to cry. We cry when we are sorry or are in sorrow. I freely admit that I cried when I lost my father. You're society doesn't seem to think highly of men crying, but it's not so in our society, your adopted society. You can cry all you need without fear that you'll be judged. I promise you that." He rubbed soothing circles into Bucky's back.

It took a while, but Bucky finally managed to look up. "Wakandans are more open to men and emotions?"

T'Challa nodded. "It's encouraged," he emphasized. And with that he patted Bucky's back more. Bucky took a deep breath. He would be all right.

They sat in silence for a minute. Finally, T'Challa started again. "For your safety, I do need to ask some questions." When Bucky cringed, he added, "I promise you, you won't be in trouble, no matter what. But we do need to ask this." He gave time for Bucky to absorb this, and Bucky finally nodded, knowing that the inevitable was coming. So T'Challa continued. "Where have you been going?"

Bucky was silent. After a few moments and realizing that Bucky wasn't going to answer, he started again, but at the look in his eye, Bucky was pretty sure T'Challa already knew and had guessed the very thing that Steve had been in denial to himself. T'Challa merely wanted confirmation. "You've been different ever since you're capture and kidnapping at Hydra's hands." And he left room for Bucky to answer if he so wanted to.

Bucky started shivering. He had no way to answer this. But, unexpectedly, Bucky felt a prompting from his handler, an allowance to say certain things while certain things were still off topic. Evidently his handler was aware of his situation, or at least somewhat aware.

Shivering, shaking as if he were confessing a crime, Bucky whispered in admittance, "Hydra."

He thought for a moment that T'Challa would be mad at him. He was expecting T'Challa to break his word and storm out of the room in anger. But T'Challa did none of those things. Instead, he seemed to be in deep thought and contemplation. "I thought so," the young king finally admitted. "It would explain several things."

This left Bucky in confusion. He dared to ask, "You're not angry?" He was confused why the king wouldn't be angry. He would be. The king should be. He'd just admitted something bad. But, instead, there was no judgment in T'Challa's eyes, only concern and brotherly love for him.

T'Challa shook his head. "Angry, no. Concerned, yes." Bucky nodded, relaxing a little more. In a way, it was a relief that his handler was finally allowing him to answer, and in a way it was a relief to finally admit it. Then, the king countered with another question. "Are you being threatened to go to Hydra?" Bucky shook his head. Rumlow was beyond that with him. This answer caused some confusion in T'Challa, but he contemplated it. He countered with another question. "Are you being forced to go to Hydra?" Bucky nodded.

"Hmm," the king stared at him in thought. But he was calm, and Bucky couldn't help but feel calm and serene himself. He was feeling more and more relief by the second, something he hadn't expected when he knew he was going to see King T'Challa, and that more than likely this conversation would pop up. "Not being threatened and yet being forced to go to Hydra," T'Challa murmured as if it was a puzzle to be solved. And indeed it was.

Silence reigned, but finally, the king sat straight up, more conviction in his gaze. "I thought maybe you had gone willingly. And even if you had, I wouldn't have been mad. It simply would have been because of your brainwashing. And yet you are still brainwashed."

"No I'm not!" Bucky snapped, but he quickly blushed, remembering his manners. This was a king he was talking to.

T'Challa chuckled some. "I'm not angry," he reassured him. "Tell me, after taking you into Wakanda, have I ever shown signs that I'm going to bite you?" Bucky shook his head. "I don't bite," T'Challa emphasized. Then he was somber again. "I know you don't want to believe it, and I can see the stress in your eyes and the toll this is taking on you. Yes, I can tell that you're not willing to go there, but that still doesn't mean that you're not brainwashed. I've talked to my psychologists, and we've reviewed the tapes that we've seen of your evaluations. You are, believe it or not. But not in the manner everyone thinks. You're still reacting as if under threat."

Bucky shivered and looked away. It was a harsh reality to come to terms with. But he still didn't understand. "How can I be brainwashed?" he asked the king. "I'm not willing. You said it yourself. I'm not a willing participant of Hydra."

"No," the king admitted, a small frown on his face. "But you're acting under duress, and you're being forced to keep silence. Your brainwashing is that you feel helpless and that they have all the power over you. It's similar to what happens in some societies in dictatorships, like a prison camps, or when one is abducted by a cult. You may not believe me, and you believe there is no escape. That is very much brainwashing, even if you don't believe their doctrines or beliefs."

Frowning, Buck nodded. He guessed that made sense. "Except that I am helpless and that they do have power over me," he admitted. But then a feeling from his handler came, and he knew that that was where he needed to draw the line and keep his mouth shut. He wasn't allowed to say anything about the bond.

"Maybe," T'Challa looked at him in thoughtfulness. The king knew that he wasn't getting anything, and he realized that T'Challa was taking what he said to try to put the pieces together. Great. "Regardless, we're going to try to help you out of this. You shouldn't have to live this way, in captivity to someone else."

"There's nothing you can do!" Bucky pointed out. And T'Challa put a comforting hand on his shoulder as he began crying some, biting his lip.

"But we can try," T'Challa gently encouraged. "At least if we try, we have something to show for it. But if we don't try, then in many ways it is to our condemnation." After a moment, Bucky nodded. And then there was that, of course. But he still didn't see how this could be a possibility with the bond.

T'Challa gave a brief, encouraging smile before standing up. As Bucky stood up, he made his way to the door. T'Challa turned off the force field, and Bucky exited.

Looking back, he expected T'Challa to come out after him, but that wasn't the case. To his surprise, T'Challa motioned to Steve to come in, and Bucky gulped. He knew what that meant as he watched Steve walk over to T'Challa. They were going to talk alone, and without him. And he wasn't sure that he liked that.

Steve walked in after kindly greeting T'Challa, and the two shut the door. The sound of a force field came up, and Bucky frowned. Of course they were going to keep this quiet.

After standing around for some time, one of the women motioned for Bucky to sit down. "It's not good to stand on your feet for so long," she insisted, and Bucky allowed himself to be mothered. He was too worried to think of anything else. "Relax," she murmured softly, pouring him some juice that was blended from several fruits that Bucky had never heard of. But the drink was always cool and refreshing. "They'll be done before you know it."

As a matter of fact, it was a half hour before they managed to come out.

Bucky couldn't help the worried look on his face. Bucky was worried that T'Challa had told Steve what he'd told the king in confidentiality. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain it to Steve if Steve found out.

The two men sat down, and Steve sat beside Bucky. He patted Bucky briefly on the knee and wrapped Bucky in a hug. Bucky rested his head on him. He was getting tired. "It's going to be all right, Bucky," Steve murmured softly, and Bucky felt a tear drip on to him. Steve was crying silently.

T'Challa seemed solemn. Bucky waited for the conversation to start. He looked at T'Challa expectantly. He just wanted to get this over with.

Fortunately, T'Challa seemed to pick up on this. He sighed and nodded, starting the conversation. "Bucky," he began. There was a brief, careful pause, and then the man continued. "Steve and I have been talking. As your guardian, I had to tell him what you told me."

There was silence. Bucky had been afraid of that. He began sobbing. The tears and fear began pouring out of him. His handler sent him comfort.

Steve started rocking him back and forth even more. "No, no, no!" He whispered softly. "I'm not mad at all! I'm concerned, though. I'm very concerned about you, Bucky. I love you and I always will. You're my best friend. How can I not be concerned?"

And so, Bucky let the tears come pouring out, but this time from the stress of the whole situation. Steve squeezed him tighter, trying to be comforting. Shushing him gently, Bucky felt the stress of the situation begin to leave him. In a way, and to his surprise, it was also relaxing having Steve know what was going on.

A weight began to be lifted off of his shoulders. While there was still so much that he couldn't say because of the bond, he was beginning to get the relief that he needed. But there was also concern there, for all of his friends. Rumlow never did anything without a reason. If Rumlow had chosen that now was the right time to release some of the information, he wanted to know why. It couldn't be for anything good, that much he knew. And so Bucky feared that his friends' lives were in danger.

But Bucky didn't want to think about that right now. As selfish as he thought he was being, he just wanted the comfort right now. And so, he soaked it all in. He just wanted to forget about his problems and only focus on the love that was being directed his way, the love that he was receiving.

It took him a while to calm down, and he burrowed his head into Steve's shoulders as Steve held him. When he was finally calmed down, he sighed, looking up. Steve smiled softly, concern and care for him in his eyes. Steve rocked him back and forth more, and Bucky burrowed his head into Steve's shoulders once more.

A calm feeling entered him. The stress was still there, but for a moment, it felt so surreal.

Bucky let himself be held. Both Steve and T'Challa watched him in concern, and he tried to look away from that. He tried to ignore that. But when he looked up, Steve couldn't help smiling at him.

Steve squeezed him tighter. "It'll be okay, Bucky. We'll figure this out. We really will."

He nodded, but Bucky didn't feel to sure about it. He just wasn't going to tell them that. After all, if Rumlow thought that now was the right time to reveal things, then there had to be something bad coming. But he knew that he wasn't allowed to say anything. He wasn't even going to ask his handler, or send some emotions out to him to ask.

Steve frowned. He squeezed Bucky briefly again. "What's wrong, Bucky?" Evidently he had picked up on something.

Looking away, he shook his head. "Nothing," he muttered softly, leaning into Steve. Both Steve and T'Challa sighed. They knew that this was the most they were getting from him. Bucky didn't like their looks either. He knew that they worried about him, and it only made him feel guilty.

T'Challa thought it was time to change the subject. "We can discuss more once we reach our destination. Right now, we're not going to solve anything, and we need time to plan." He gave Steve a meaningful look and Bucky immediately knew that he wasn't going to be part of this conversation. They didn't trust him because they knew that Hydra had a hold on him, even if they didn't blame him. Bucky gulped. He was fine with it, but he knew his handler wouldn't be.

Sighing, Steve nodded. Then he turned to his friend. "Bucky," he murmured softly. "Why don't we get you some rest?"

Bucky stared at Steve in confusion and then turned with a questioning glance at T'Challa. The man nodded, and Bucky immediately knew that this had been pre-planned. A part of him was mad when he picked up on this. They wanted some time alone to discuss things.

"What rest?" he snapped. "If you don't want me here, just say it straight and quit pretending! Besides, don't you have the other room?"

Both T'Challa and Steve sighed. "Bucky," Steve began. "I know you've been up late. There is a room with a bed here that T'Challa is offering for you to use. Yes, I know that your upset, and yes, we do need to talk alone, but this is also for your sake."

Clenching his fists, Bucky pulled away. Suddenly, he didn't want Steve to hold him anymore. Steve tried to touch him reassuringly when he saw this, but Bucky pulled away. Steve didn't touch him after that. "You can't tell me? Am I really that much of a child to you?"

"No!" Steve exclaimed in horror. "It's not like that at all, I swear! Bucky, we're just looking out for you. Yes, we have the other room, but that room is more secure."

"From what?" Bucky snapped. "From me?"

Both Steve and T'Challa were silent after that, a sad look on both of their faces. But they were also careful. "We know that you're brainwashed," Steve was careful. "And we have our reasons for wanting you in that room now."

Clenching his fists, Bucky glared. He was used to being ordered around by now. He'd been ordered around for over seventy years with no choice given to him. And he'd been ordered around before that with his choice attached.

Following one of the women into the suite in the plane, she led him to a comfortable room. Sighing, he entered. "We'll be out here. Shout if you need anything," she encouraged when he turned around. He nodded stiffly back. The door was shut and a force field came up.

He turned to the room. There was a soft bed with blue sheets already made, and he plopped down. The door of the window was darkened, and when Bucky got up to look out, he saw that it was it wouldn't open. He growled and went back to bed.

A lone tear fell out of his eye. He began crying.

(Steve Point of View)

As soon as Bucky was secured in the room and the woman returned, Steve faced T'Challa fully. Both of them had worried looks on their faces in an intensity that they didn't want Bucky to see.

Steve started crying quietly. It took a little bit to compose himself. "What was it that you wanted to tell me?"

T'Challa sighed, a worried expression on his face. "We both know that he's going to try to find a way to escape. Also, there is no way that he would suddenly start talking now. No, this was planned. He's being told to do this."

"How do we help him through his brainwashing?" Steve begged. He was desperate to alleviate his best friend's suffering.

T'Challa was sad. "I'm not sure that we can completely. There seems to be something else going on that we don't know about."

"Like what?" Steve begged. He didn't like where this was going. He was in desperate denial.

Raising an eyebrow, but patient none the less, T'Challa spelled out slowly, "I don't know. That's why I said we don't know about it. All I know is that this is rigged. Bucky wouldn't have told us otherwise. Finding out what that thing is, though, is a hard thing to figure out."

This started sending Steve into a slight panic until T'Challa held up his hand to reassure him. "What if he won't talk?" he worried.

T'Challa, for his part, was calm. "We don't know that he can talk about it, at least not in his own mind. Bucky has to work through this at his own pace. If he won't talk, then we will have to devise a means to find out. And in all truth and honesty, I think we'll have to do that anyways as I don't think he's going to give us anymore information. We don't want to stress him out and push him over the edge. That will only push him into Hydra's clutches. You have to understand, if you do too much, it can cause the person who is brainwashed to run back to their abusers. We don't want that. We want to be able to distance him from his abusers."

Shivering, Steve nodded. He understood. "But I thought you said that he's going to try to run away anyways?" he added.

Nodding and leaning forward, T'Challa added, "He will find that we are more secure than your house. We have gotten to know his movements. We won't let him go without a fight. And the truth is, I don't think he really wants to leave, anyways. He merely believes that he has no choice, and that is what is fueling him to go back to Hydra each time."

"So it's fear?" Steve echoed. "They're using fear to control him?"

T'Challa was more hesitant this time. "I can't say yes, and I can't say no. After all, Bucky would be afraid of them regardless. He would be stressed and running back anyways."

Nodding, Steve thought he vaguely understood. He wasn't one hundred percent sure, though. "It's the past, isn't it?" T'Challa nodded. "It's because of what Hydra had done to him before. It wouldn't matter. He'd be afraid anyways."

Nodding again, T'Challa added, "Fear can be a controlling factor. It can be blinding. Bucky feels helpless because of this. He feels without hope. And hope we must restore to him."

Near the end, T'Challa scrunched up his face in worry, though. It seemed that even the great king wasn't sure of many things, including how to do this. And as Steve paid attention, he knew that both of them had come to the same conclusion. There was something more going on. And it was bothering them. There was something that they still hadn't figured out about Bucky.

Silence reigned. Finally, Steve broke the silence. "I think I'd better check on Bucky."

T'Challa nodded. "I think you'd best as well."

(Steve Point of View)

Bucky was restless when Steve went in. He hadn't gone to sleep as they'd hoped. He was pacing back and forth in anxiety and anger. When Steve approached and the door locked behind him, the force field coming up, he still hadn't stopped pacing. Steve knew he'd heard. But he continued to act as if he didn't.

It hurt Steve to see him like this. "Bucky?" he called out softly, hoping for a good reaction from his best friend. He knew that it was too much to ask for, but even then he couldn't help but desire it.

It was unexpected, but Bucky snapped around, glaring at him, anger shaking his whole frame. "What?!" Bucky shouted. "I guess I'm just a child to be babysat?" he spat. Then he was back to pacing back and forth again.

Steve's mouth was open in shock. He didn't know what to say. After all, what could you answer a man who wasn't able to take any comfort?

He was stuttering. It was so unexpected. The way Bucky had been crying earlier, begging for comfort, he couldn't seem to understand why Bucky was so angry. "N-No!" was all that Steve could say, his shock still evident in his expression. Then he pulled himself together. "No! Not at all!"

Bucky was shaking harder than before. "THEN WHY DO YOU HAVE TO PROTECT ME!" he shouted out loud, tears of anger running down his face.

Once more, Steve didn't know what to say. The only answer he could come up with he said in a small voice, "You protected me. You always protected me, Bucky."

Bucky seemed taken aback by this. For a while, it was like he didn't know what to say. Finally, he responded, "I don't want to be protected." But it was in a more shy and timid matter, a soft voice used. Tears softly flowed down his face, and Steve thought he saw a bit of fear in his expression.

Unable to hold himself back, Steve walked slowly up and enveloped Bucky in a hug. His friend couldn't help it. He started crying and burrowed his head into Steve's shoulder. "I don't want to be protected!" he sobbed again. "Why?! Why, Steve? I don't want to be protected!"

"I don't understand," Steve murmured softly. "Help me understand! Why are you holding back?"

"You do!" Bucky accused.

Steve tilted his head. How could he answer that when it was true? He decided to word his words carefully. "If you knew that I was going to do something to harm myself, and if you knew that I was going to shoot myself in the head, would you tell me where the guns were? Or would you keep that knowledge from me?"

Bucky stiffened. For a moment Steve thought that he'd said the wrong thing. Then, Bucky suddenly pushed Steve away with great force, and Steve could see that he was shaking in anger. "That's what this is about?" Bucky whispered. Steve's face was slowly shifting into horror. "Really?"

He didn't understand Bucky's mood. He wasn't entirely sure what would set him off and what wouldn't. He didn't even know how to answer Bucky.

Suddenly, Bucky launched himself at the door, pounding at the force field. Steve, after standing in shock for a minute, went up to pull Bucky away. But Bucky shrugged him off with violent force, tears in his eyes. "Leave me alone!" he yelled. Then he pounded on the door, almost panic in his expression, trying to tear down the door with his metal arm, the force field preventing him. "Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!"

There was such panic in his voice that Steve didn't know what to do. He'd never seen Bucky in such a state before while cognizant of who he was. He didn't know what to do for him. "Bucky!" he approached. But when Bucky swung his fist at him and shouted, "Get away!" Steve stood back and gave him more room. But he didn't stop trying to calm him. "Let me out!" Bucky continued to yell, the tears pouring down his eyes as he desperately tried to tear the plane down.

"Bucky!" Steve tried again.

"Stop!" Bucky shouted, his hands over his ears. "Stop! Stop!" When he was sure that Steve was done, he was back to his panicked state of trying to tear the door down. "Let me out!" he begged, and Steve could only watch in horror.

Suddenly, the door opened and the force field was let down. Three women stood there, a hypodermic needle in their hands. "NO!" Bucky begged. "NO! NO!" He backed up to get away from them as they advanced, but before they could advance more, he was leaping towards the door.

Steve jumped and caught him, wrestling him to the ground. "NO!" Bucky begged with tears, kicking back at Steve as Steve tried to restrain him. It was to no avail, however. Steve wrapped his arms in a tight grip and lay on top of him. One of the women injected the needle into him, the the rest did as well.

Bucky was limp and crying. Steve got off of him and nodded at the women as they exited, the door being replaced and the force field going back up.

Steve rocked Bucky as he cried himself to sleep.

I apologize for taking so long to update this. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

Please review!