Chapter 10

The Rocky Mountains

North of Wolcott, Colorado

8:35AM Local Time

James and Sam circled Rumlow slowly. The HYDRA enforcer was outnumbered and boxed in, but didn't seem the slightest bit worried.

"I don't know why you're fighting for them, Barnes," Rumlow taunted, rubbing his jaw. "They just make you weak. HYDRA was the only home you ever had."

"No, it wasn't." James sneered back. He was fairly certain he could take down Rumlow, despite his exhaustion. But, it was nice to have Wilson covering him just in case.

Rumlow wasn't done talking, though. "You know, I meant what I said before. I never liked watching you in that machine."

James ignored him, tensing up in preparation to strike.

"Rogers, though? That I watched."

Everything slowed to a stop as he processed the words, and James' blood turned as cold as it did when he'd been put to sleep all those times. No. Eyes widening, he glanced at Wilson. "Sam, get out of here and find Steve. Now!"

Wilson pulled back and edged around them, heading down the hallway. Rumlow didn't bother stopping him. Instead, he looked at James with something resembling contempt. "You're obsolete, Barnes. A relic. The new soldier will be perfect."

Arnim Zola's words echoed in James' memory.

The procedure has already started...

You will be the new fist of HYDRA...

You have provided such excellent service to us, Sergeant. Perhaps it is destined that Captain Rogers will as well?

The cold racing through his veins hardened into something else. Rage. Dr. Nieves had been probing at something for weeks, asking him what or who he was angry at, but he could never put the answer into words. At first, she'd thought it might be Steve, but that wasn't right. It was HYDRA...but not just the organization. It wasn't just what they'd done, it was why they'd done it. It was how they could so casually destroy a person and not care where the wreckage ended up. It was the terrifying way they could take a sociopathic soldier like Brock Rumlow and transform him into the even worse monster he was squaring off against.

And, yes, it was what they'd done to him, too. But, not just for his own sake. The fallout had extended beyond the scope of even what HYDRA had anticipated, hurting Steve and many other people long after he'd been locked in a freezer and put away.

Now it seemed that they'd hurt Steve again.

The rage grew, past any hope of James restraining it. It could only be let out. He charged at Rumlow.

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Sam bolted down the corridor, Rumlow's words replaying in his head. The implication disturbed him, but not as much as the look of palpable fear he'd seen in Barnes' eyes. In the few times he'd been close to the former Winter Soldier, he'd never seen a look like that.

The corridor was deserted, the only sound the rhythmic whooping of the emergency alarm. There were two other containment doors. The first hadn't activated, and the second had closed partway and stuck, its unmaintained mechanisms jammed. Yellow malfunction lights blinked plaintively, but there were no technicians around to repair them. Sam slipped past them quietly, hunting for any sign of Steve, or, alternately, another way up to the second level.

He proceeded cautiously, in case any of Rumlow's men were still lurking. It was a wise choice. As he rounded the next corner in the labyrinth of the prison, he came upon two soldiers guarding a cell.

They spotted him at the same moment he spotted them. He ducked back around the corner as bullets split the air where he'd just been standing. Sam released the safeties in his SPPs, and took a deep breath. There were only two of them, but the hallway was tight and there was no room to maneuver.

In the end, he didn't need to worry about a shootout. There was an ominous rumble from overhead, and the ceiling above the guards exploded in a rain of concrete, steel and insulation.

Thor dropped down through the hole, ready for battle, but the two guards had gone down with the debris. Sam smiled, stepping out around the corner.

"Nice entrance."

The Asgardian smirked faintly, but his tone was all business. "The second level is secure."

Hawkeye and Rhodes dropped down behind him. The archer motioned toward the door that the two hapless soldiers had been guarding. "JARVIS was able to get a clear scan. We followed the heat signatures here."

"I don't see any booby traps," Rhodes said, scanning the wall with his armor's sensors.

"Then let us waste no more time," Thor said grimly. He swung Mjolnir in a wide arc, shattering the thick metal with the impact, hinges shearing away from their supports. The handle and lock stood, absurdly still attached to the frame, but it could no longer keep anyone out.

Thor went in first, Sam close on his heels. They both halted a few feet inside. Two HYDRA technicians in lab coats stood frozen in place, stunned by the break-in, mouths gaping. But, it was Steve that held Sam's attention.

"Oh my God," Sam breathed.

Steve was seated in a chair with thick restraints, unconscious. Sweat drenched his bare chest and hair. There were burn marks on his face and forehead.

Monitors and other equipment flanked him, displaying various kinds of data and his—thankfully stable—vital signs. Sam looked at Thor, who for once appeared as rattled as Sam felt.

The Asgardian looked over his shoulder and barked at Hawkeye. "Find the others. Now."

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Rumlow crashed into the wall and fell to the floor with a pained grunt. James didn't let up, closing in and delivering a punishing jab with his metal fist into the soldier's side. He was surprised when his fist connected with a clang.

The other man chuckled and looked up at him, pulling his armored vest up slightly so James could see beneath the black tunic. Chrome plating covered skin, and small glowing orange lights showed between seams of metal.

"Needed an upgrade after I got burned up," Rumlow wheezed. He spun, using his legs to swipe James' feet out from under him. Barnes hit the floor, hard, but recovered quickly and flipped himself back into an upright position. He backed off, giving himself some room.

Rumlow staggered to his feet, noticeably slower than Barnes, but resumed a fighting stance. James was wearing him down despite his own exhaustion and Rumlow's unexpected reserves of strength.

"Guess I should thank you for it, since the tech is based off your arm," Rumlow continued, circling slowly, though visibly unsteady on his feet. He pointed toward the floor where he'd just been. "Nice move, by the way. I've seen the Widow do that same trick."

Barnes snarled and launched himself forward, leaping up, catching Rumlow's head between his knees, spinning and flipping him over, slamming him into the floor once more. James followed with a left hook with his metal fist, and Rumlow finally went limp.

He kept punching. Every fiber of his being told him to murder the son of a bitch in front of him. His arm moved almost without his telling it to, like it had a mind of its own and wanted Rumlow dead, too. One more blow would finish it. He reared back, but stopped.

You are a killer. You were a killer when those men found you in the river.

James looked at his clenched vibranium fist, studied it for a moment, then looked back at Rumlow's bloodied face. Maybe Lukin was right. He drove his fist down as hard as he could.

"Who do you think taught her that move, asshole?" James murmured, staring at the dent in the concrete floor next to Rumlow's head.

Maybe he was a killer, but that didn't mean he couldn't be anything else.

He lowered himself tiredly to the floor and scooted until his bruised back was resting against the cold wall. His exhaustion was catching up with him.

His first instinct was to get up and find Steve, but he couldn't leave Rumlow there unguarded. All he could do was stew while he waited for Stark or Sam to return. He couldn't remember the last time he prayed, but he prayed for Sam to appear with good news. Steve's okay...Rumlow was bluffing...

Sparks erupted from a line in the heavy door. Stark was probably burning through it. James sat and watched, keeping one eye on the other end of the hallway to make sure Rumlow didn't have any more friends. Come on, Stark, hurry up.

It was a good five minutes before a hole large enough to step through was carved in the door. Iron Man's helmet appeared, peering through the opening.

James glared, dabbing his busted lower lip with his flesh hand. "Took you long enough."

Stark raised his faceplate and looked from Barnes to Rumlow and back. "Doesn't look like you were bored."

Natasha followed Stark through, and knelt beside him. "You okay?"

He smiled softly, despite the worry that was gnawing at his gut. "We gotta stop meeting like this."

Stark produced restraints from a compartment in his armor, and tied Rumlow's slack hands behind his back. He rolled the unconscious man over and did the same for his ankles, to make sure he couldn't escape.

James let Natasha help him to his feet. He needed to find Steve, get them out of this hellhole, and get something to eat. In that order. Just like Baslieux, all over again, he mused silently. Then he frowned. He couldn't remember why Baslieux had been so bad.

Stark had just risen to join them when Barton appeared from around a corner further down the hall. He looked shaken.

"Guys...we found Steve."

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Tony entered the cell after Hawkeye and Barnes, but stopped short just inside. Steve was seated, unconscious, in a chair. Angry-looking burns dotted his forehead, but were already visibly healing. Restraints on the armrests had been unlocked.

Barnes stood frozen beside him for a moment, looking horrified at the sight, but then hurried to Steve's side and knelt down beside him. He whispered something, but Tony couldn't make it out from that distance.

"Banner's prepping the medical equipment on the jet," Natasha said quietly, looking a bit shaken. "But he doesn't think..."

"I'm gonna need time to examine the damage," Banner said quietly over the comms. "We don't know much about what we're dealing with, yet."

"They do," Barton rumbled, nodding at their prisoners.

Two HYDRA technicians in lab coats were nearby. One, a young, thin male in his twenties, was huddled against the back wall of the cell, clearly cowed by the presence of the Avengers. The other, a middle-aged man with round glasses and thinning hair, didn't seem fazed at all, staring them down with an almost proud expression. Sam was holding him near Steve, next to where Barnes knelt.

Tony opened his armor and stepped out, setting it to sentry mode. He stepped over and examined the computer controls to the right of the chair. Generally speaking, it was much like the setup seen in the Winter Soldier files, and in the wrecked bank vault in Washington that Mike Howard's agents had uncovered a few months back. Clearly its purpose was the same, given the readouts on the screens. Unfortunately, Tony didn't know enough about it to discern any kind of way of reversing the process.

Knowing their enemy, there likely wasn't one.

He turned and looked at Barnes, and the sight surprised him. The former assassin was hovering close to Steve, murmuring quietly into his ear...and he looked to be on the verge of panic. The acerbic, taciturn recovering amnesiac was gone, replaced by a frightened and very helpless-looking young man whose best friend was lying unconscious, victim of a nightmarish torture.

Tony almost said something glib, maybe something that would make everything seem less dire—Steve can't be brought down this easily, or we'll fix this in no time—something that might break the dark spell that had entranced Barnes and Sam and all his on-looking friends. Unfortunately, the balding scientist squirming in Sam's grip opened his mouth first.

"It took us some time to find the right settings," he proclaimed, a trace of a Russian accent coming through. "But once we increased the voltage, we were able to recreate the original machine's function quite well."

Stark recoiled from the words. The man was proud of his accomplishment. He'd solved a complex bio-engineering problem, nothing more, nothing less. The arrogant words were vile, repugnant...and the very worst thing the man could have possibly said in present company.

Tony actually saw the change. Something inside Barnes flipped like a light switch. He stopped whispering to Steve. His expression went from scared and vulnerable to cold and utterly predatory. He was on his feet before any of them could react, and snapped the HYDRA technician's neck like a dry twig.

Barnes spun and leapt clear over Steve and Tony, grabbing the younger scientist by the throat and slamming him into the wall. He raised his metal fist for what Tony knew would certainly be a killing blow.

Fortunately for the stunned HYDRA lackey, Thor was as fast as the Winter Soldier. He appeared at Barnes' side seemingly from nowhere and seized the metal fist in midair, stopping its drive toward the man's skull. "Barnes! Stop! We need him alive!"

Barnes looked at the Asgardian as though he'd grown a second head. "Why? Look what they did to him!" he said through gritted teeth, both incredulous and furious.

"He may have information we can use to heal the Captain," Thor said forcefully, but with a hint of sympathy that surprised Tony and clearly Barnes as well.

The former assassin stared at Thor for a moment, panting, looking like he might resist, then turned to the hapless HYDRA tech, who was frozen in shock. After a long, tense pause, Barnes relented and lowered his hand.

"When you're through with him," Barnes growled, daring to poke his finger at Thor's armored chest. "He's mine."

The tech went three shades paler, and Tony wouldn't have been surprised if he fainted any second.

"When Steven is healed, we will grant you your vengeance, you have my word." Thor replied with deadly calm. Tony caught the look on his face, and believed every bit of it. Barnes obviously did as well. He stalked away, returning silent and seething to Steve's side.

Natasha stepped forward, placing her hands on Barnes' shoulders with a gentleness that surprised Stark yet again. James didn't react, instead keeping his pain-filled eyes on Steve's slack face. Tony turned away to study the controls again. It hurt just to look at him.

"Tony, is there anything...?" Romanoff asked quietly.

He shook his head, trying to stay professional. "No. Not from here, anyway. Pretty obvious they weren't concerned with reversing the process."

"Makes sense," Romanoff said softly.

"We should take all this equipment back to the tower," Stark said, hoping he sounded detached and in control, even though he was far from it. "They have brain scans and readouts of the operation. Bruce you should see these."

"Tony, what about...?" Sam spoke up, motioning silently toward Barnes.

Stark looked at the other man for a moment. They needed to go, but they needed cooperation, too. "Hey...um, Bucky, buddy? We need to get him to the jet. Can you help us with that?"

Barnes looked up at him, frowning. Tony wondered if he was going to object to the nickname, but the switch had flipped back, and it was just that scared young man looking at him in mild confusion. After a moment, Barnes nodded and scooped Steve up like he weighed nothing, carrying him carefully toward the door.

Sam moved across the room, and zip-tied the younger technician's wrists. The quivering prisoner's eyes were locked on Barnes' retreating back. "He's...he's insane..."

"Hey!" Wilson smacked the man's cheek to get his attention. "You keep your mouth shut until we get to New York, then you answer every question we ask you. Play nice, and maybe we'll turn you over to the Feds instead of feeding you to him." He punctuated the threat with a nod toward Barnes. "Got it?"

The young man nodded silently and offered no resistance when Sam shoved him toward the exit.

"Natasha, Barton, Rhodes," Thor said sternly, taking command of the situation. "Clear the rest of this level. Take whatever survivors you find to join the prisoners in the courtyard."

No one objected. They filed out silently. Thor turned to Tony.

"Whatever equipment you need from this machine, take it," the Asgardian said in a low voice. His fingers tightened around Mjolnir's handle, causing static electricity to crackled along the hammer's surface. "I intend to bury this accursed place."

Tony nodded numbly. Talbot would be furious, but he honestly couldn't have cared less. Thor was right. This place should be destroyed. Shaking his head, Tony set about finding the shutdown sequence for the machines, and started cataloguing the components he might need to take.

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Avengers Tower

New York City

"I can't say I'm all that pleased, Ms. Hill," Talbot said. "We wanted this place intact."

Maria glanced at the rubble visible over the general's shoulder that marked the remains of the Vault after Thor collapsed the ground it sat upon. "I'm sorry, General, but the place was rigged with booby traps. HYDRA didn't want anyone getting their hands on their toys."

"Mm," Talbot shrugged. "Well, it's one more rat hole I can scratch off my list, in any event. That counts for something. Any word on Cap's condition?"

"No change," she frowned. "Still critical. What about Rumlow and his men?"

Talbot's mouth twisted into a feral grin. "Rumlow's in the medical wing at Leavenworth right now, then it's a one way trip to SuperMax for him. If I get my way, his men will spend a few months in Gitmo before the U.S. Attorney files terrorism charges. Either way, they're done."

Hill felt a twinge of satisfaction at that. She made a mental note to forward the good news to Coulson when things settled down.

"Anyway," Talbot continued. "The excavators are moving in tomorrow morning. I've got work to do. Keep me in the loop about Rogers."

"Of course." Hill nodded and signed off. The general was one of less than twenty people from the President down that knew what had transpired in Colorado. Despite a rocky start, Talbot had proven useful to them in fighting HYDRA over the previous months. She'd keep the general in the know.

What he needed to know, per usual.

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Avengers Tower, Medical Wing

New York City

The flight back to New York had been quiet. James had stayed close to Steve, but he wasn't naive enough to think he could actually do anything to help. Banner had examined them both during the flight. James was none the worse for the wear, just tired. Steve hadn't woken up yet, and Banner attributed it to shock from the procedure.

James remembered his wipes—some of them, anyway—but the details were fuzzy. He didn't know how long he'd stayed out after each procedure. Usually he'd come back from it numb, little more than an empty vessel waiting for orders. There were always orders. Someone else always pointed him in the next direction, giving the raw, ingrained talent a purpose.

He wondered what Steve would wake up to.

Once back at the Tower, they'd set Steve up in the medical wing. Banner and Stark busied themselves transferring the equipment captured from the prison, and tried to make heads or tails of what they had in front of them versus what they'd seen in the Winter Soldier files.

James stayed by Steve's bedside. There was little else for him to do, at least for the moment. The only sounds were the rhythmic beeps from the monitors and the hum of the building's ventilation.

He was distantly aware of Sam milling around. The other man didn't have anything to occupy his time either. Waiting was always the worst part of bad situations. James idly wondered if he should say something comforting, but nothing sprang to mind, and he wasn't sure he'd be capable of such an act even if the words did manifest. Steve would know what to say. Steve always knew what to say.

Steve was going to have to wake up and say it.

"I'm...going to run to the apartment. Get him some clothes for when..." Sam trailed off. "Um, do you need anything?"

James glanced at him. Sam had the look of someone desperately trying to feel useful. He envied that Sam had even a minor chore like that to cling on to. James couldn't seem to find even that much. He shook his head.

Sam turned and moved slowly for the door. He had his hand on the handle when James spoke.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"My room. In the closet, there's a bag. Side pocket, there's a little...um...what's it—? A drive. A flash drive. Can you bring it to me?"

He wondered if the surprised look he received was because he'd spoken, or asked for a favor, or was granting permission to invade his privacy. In the end, he supposed it didn't matter. Sam nodded and left, leaving them alone.

James couldn't help but replay the previous few days in his mind's eye. Maybe if he'd gone with Steve for his run the other morning this wouldn't have happened. Maybe if he hadn't forgotten his phone, he would have been there to answer Steve's call. Maybe if he'd tried a little harder to free himself, he might have gotten out before Rumlow put Steve in the machine...

Drowning in "maybes," James couldn't help but see this as his fault. Rumlow had been tracking him to begin with. Steve had only gotten in HYDRA's way, once again. Rumlow and his men had been captured, but the damage was done.

He leaned in, close enough that only Steve would be able to hear. "I'm sorry."

There was no answer.

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The lights were too bright.

He squinted, instinctively bringing a hand up to cover his tearing eyes. A chemical smell pervaded the air like a hospital. The room was mostly white, sleek looking. He heard a steady stream of beeps and tones, maybe from the equipment that flanked the bed.

Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge and tried to get his bearings. He heard a faint cough somewhere nearby.

It's okay, Ma. Here take some water...

He flinched at the image in his mind's eye. A woman in bed, coughing violently, drenched in sweat, her face gaunt, almost skeletal.

And then there was a voice, male. We looked for you, after the funeral...

The voice in his head was immediately followed by a wave of pain that crashed over him. It felt like his brain was on fire.

"Hey, you're awake!"

The new voice startled him. He looked up in confusion. "Where...where am I?"

The man seemed concerned. "You're in New York. We brought you back here."

You're in a recovery room in New York City...

It was wrong. It felt wrong. The game was wrong. He'd been there. He blinked. What game?

He looked up at the other man again, suspicious. "Where am I really?"

"I don't—" The man frowned, worry clouding his face. "Steve, listen to me, okay?"

"Who the hell is Steve?" It wasn't right. Didn't feel right. He tried to think, but there was nothing. It was like standing in fog. Confusion bled into anger. He stood up. "Who are you?"

I just want you to know, Big Guy. This time? It was very, very personal.

Pain. Everywhere. In his head. He tried to think, tried to remember how he got here, but that only made the pain worse.

See, Jack? That's how you hit a nerve.

"Cap, calm down—"

Run. Escape. This is all wrong. They're lying to you...

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"We don't have much to go on, Tony." Banner sighed, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. "Besides, I'm sure this was meant to be a one-way process."

Tony glanced over at him from his lab table. "Not much choice. I took everything that looked useful, and we've got one of their science-goons to walk us through the data."

Banner frowned. HYDRA's lackeys weren't known for being helpful. "Assuming he tells the truth."

"He'll tell the truth," Tony retorted. "Or we'll hand him over to the One-Armed Man."

"That may be unwise," Jemma Simmons chimed in from her computer terminal. She was looking over Cap's medical scans. "I don't think the Sergeant would give him much time to confess."

"Incentive," Tony said with a wicked gleam in his eye.

"If only we had the original designs, or Sergeant Barnes' medical files," Simmons mused, reading through one of the reports.

"Maybe this will help."

Banner started at the new voice, turning to find Barnes standing just inside the door. He was holding up a thumb drive.

"What is that?" Tony asked.

"My medical history. Some of the files date back to the 40s," Barnes said simply. "I took a hard drive from the bank vault when I wrecked the place last year. Found a—" He pause, looking uncertain. "Found a friend to sort through all the information and he saved it for me on this."

Barnes stepped over and held it out so that Simmons could take it. She reached out tentatively, and accepted the little device.

Banner shook his head, in confusion. "James...why didn't you show us that earlier? It might have helped you when you came back here. Or when your arm was damaged."

James' eyes dropped to the floor, and he shrugged. "Doctors and scientists...haven't exactly been good to me over the years. I guess I didn't trust you."

Bruce shared a look with Tony, who looked like he understood the sentiment. HYDRA had done a number on Barnes, after all. "So, what's changed?"

"If something on there can help Steve..." Barnes said, motioning somewhat helplessly toward the drive. "I guess I have to trust you now."

JARVIS interrupted the conversation. "Sir, there seems to be a problem in—"

"Guys!" Sam's voice cut in, he sounded out of breath. "Steve's awake, but—"

There was a loud clang, and Wilson went silent.

TBC