(A/N) Still love all you lovely readers. And Mudkipz: the answer to that last question is a definite yes…which is why you'll see what he was doing while that was going on.
To Have and To Hold
Chapter 12: Ashes to Ashes
Bucky didn't know why he woke up in the middle of the night cycle. There had been no dream or nightmare he could remember. All of a sudden, he was just sitting bolt upright, gasping for breath as sweat rolled down his face. He couldn't explain it, but deep in his core, he knew something was wrong.
Steve…?
Then, just as suddenly, he felt his heart stop beating.
There wasn't time for it to do any damage. The moment the irregularity happened, he got a jolt from the ICD, forcing the ragged organ back in line. As he groaned in pain, clutching at his chest, Natasha was suddenly sitting up beside him, her hand on his shoulder.
"What's wrong? What is it?"
"I don't know. I thought…I felt somethin'…and my heart…I just…I got a jolt. I don't know," he repeated helplessly, unable to explain what had just happened. As far as he knew, he hadn't been using magic. Was his body just shutting down on its own now or…had he…maybe…somehow been connected to Steve?
Steve? Steve, where are you? I need to see your face. I need to kiss you. I need to know you're all right. Please…Steve…I don't know how much longer I can hold on. Just…just tell me you're all right, you bastard!
XxX
The moment Steve went down, Clint snapped back into action. He briefly turned to glance back at his own opponent, who looked strangely shocked by what had just taken place.
"Rumlow, you idiot!" he shouted before running to join his associate. Out of the corner of his eye, Clint noticed Crossbones picking up the shield he'd torn away from Steve, slinging it onto his own back.
"Hulk!" he shouted at the green giant, who had literally been tearing up the pavement in order to prevent any civilians from getting closer to the fight. When the Hulk looked back and saw that Steve was down, he briefly froze.
"Get him clear!" Clint ordered. They had to get the captain somewhere at least marginally safe before the media swept in. There was no time to see to Steve himself, because Crossbones and the other agent were already on the move…slipping away…their only chance to find Natasha and Bucky.
Clint took off after the two agents as they disappeared into the forest beyond the highway, keeping them just in his sights. He knew they were faster than he was, but he could certainly pace himself, keep them at least within his grasp.
There was no time to worry about Steve…whether he was alive or dead…though Clint knew he couldn't hold out much hope after seeing that shot.
Focus! He berated himself, keeping his sights fixed on his quarry. If he's still alive, the only way to help him is to finish the mission.
As the two agents moved farther and farther into the woods, they began to slow, and it became less about keeping them in his sights as keeping himself out of theirs.
"Did we lose him?" Crossbones asked after a time
"I think so," his comrade said, not realizing that Clint was barely ten feet from them. Even with improved hearing, the archer knew it would be impossible to pick him out from the constant noise that still echoed from the highway. "What kind of stunt was that back there, Brock?"
"What?"
"Schmidt wanted the captain alive! There's no way he survived that," he scolded him as they continued to move through the forest with Clint tailing just behind them.
"Don't be such a pussy, Alexei. Who gives a shit what that freaky German wants? I got myself a shiny new trophy…and I'll go down in the history books as the man who killed Captain America. Not bad for a debut battle," he said, twirling Steve's shield in his hands as they moved.
"Well, don't come crying to me if Schmidt up and pulls your intestines out through your throat."
"Really think he could do that?" Crossbones asked, more by way of curiosity than actually fearing it happening to him.
"You saw what he did to Barnes. With those things on his back, I don't know if I'd put anything past him now."
"Maybe," Crossbones said, his voice still more a shade of interest than of fear. Then he and the other agent disappeared around a large tree and Clint couldn't see them anymore.
Giving the tree a wide berth in case of additional security, Clint circled around it, but he was unable to find the spot where'd they'd disappeared. Even though he couldn't see how, he knew this was the place they were looking for, and he needed to know how to get inside. So he selected on arrow from his quiver and fired it at the tree.
His arrow struck true, depositing an imaging device inside the wood before incinerating the very next moment. If he could get a hold of a computer, he'd be able to collect the data from the imager in just a few hours.
Marking the spot on the tree where the imager was concealed and also marking his place in the forest, Clint slowly headed back the way he came, uncertain if he was ready to face what may or may not be waiting for him.
XxX
Bucky and Natasha were awakened at the end of the night cycle by Schmidt storming into their cell, a look of absolute rage on his face.
"It's all over, James!" Schmidt snarled at him.
"What are you talking about?"
"Steve Rogers is dead!"
For a moment, it didn't sink in…but then-
"I don't…I don't believe you," Bucky said, his mouth going dry as his heart dropped into his stomach and a pool of liquid fear began to boil at the base of his spine.
"No?" Schmidt hissed. "Then perhaps you will believe your own eyes."
At that, Schmidt issued a command in German. Then Alrik entered the cell carrying a laptop, along with Dreykoff and another man whom Bucky assumed had been exposed to the serum, due to the coloring of his skin. That wasn't what caught Bucky's attention, though. It was the fact that this third man was holding Steve's shield.
"No," Bucky whispered in shock. Steve would have never let that thing go…but then he shook his head. "That…that doesn't prove anything."
Schmidt then nodded at Alrik, who opened up the laptop and entered a few commands. Then he turned it to face Bucky. The computer was playing a clip from a BBC news broadcast. The clip had no sound, but the headline over it read "BATTLE IN BERLIN. CAPTAIN AMERICA DEAD?".
The clip showed a battle on a highway. The footage was amateur, but Bucky could see Steve being thrown across the road by the man who now held his shield. Then, when he tried to stand, he whipped out a gun and shot Steve through the chest. Just as Steve fell, the clip cut to a reporter.
Shaking his head, Bucky stumbled back several feet, until he hit the cell wall.
"No…no…" he whispered over and over again. "You…you're not…you can't…oh, God…"
Steve…you're really…no! This can't be real! You weren't supposed to die before me, damn it!
If Steve were really dead, he would know, wouldn't he? He would know if the better part of his soul was gone. But then he remembered…waking up…his heart…could it be?
No…no! He can't be gone! He can't be dead!
Lost in his own shock and grief as he was, Bucky barely heard what was going on around him.
"And of course, you didn't have the sense to kill the others while you were at it," Dreykoff berated his student. "They're in the area now."
"Oh, your Crossbones couldn't have killed Dr. Banner, even if he'd wanted to," the Skull chastised them. "He would have done better to kill the archer."
"No, Brock knows we need Clint Barton alive," Dreykoff insisted.
"Alive? What are you planning to do with Barton?" Natasha broke in on their argument.
"All in good time, dear Natasha."
"If Rogers is dead…you should let Barnes go," she tried to argue. "He's of no further use to you."
"You'd be surprised, Agent Romanoff," Schmidt said, shaking his head, his anger still present on his face. "I will not let go of what I hold so easily. James will suffer enough for the both of them. I am far from done with him."
"In the meantime, though. We haven't got a lot of time to waste," Dreykoff started. "Barton is in the area. We cannot wait another week, as we'd hoped. The C-section will be performed today."
Natasha took a few steps back herself, her hand automatically moving to the swell of her stomach."
"No…you can't…she'll die."
"We will keep her alive," Dreykoff said firmly, and at his nod, Crossbones and Alrik moved forward, pinning her between them.
"Let go of me!" she shouted, starting to struggle, but all it took was one sharp pain in her womb to remind her that she couldn't fight. Whether it be by her resistance now…or 2R's knife in a few hours…her Zasha was dead either way. The only hope for her survival…was to let this happen.
"Good girl," Dreykoff said, patting her shoulder.
"Let her go!" Bucky's voice suddenly snarled; they'd nearly forgotten about him, and it would have been a costly mistake.
Briefly, Dreykoff looked fearful when the former mercenary sprang at them. Their own super soldiers were busy restraining Natasha, but the very next moment, the raging beast was put down by one move from Schmidt. A tentacle snaked from his back and wrapped around Bucky's throat, slamming him back against the far wall. Bucky fought furiously against him, but it was Natasha's voice that got through to him in the end.
"Bucky…please stop," she said; her voice was quiet, but he heard her, just the same. "We can't…there's no other way."
"N-Natasha?" he whispered, the expression on his face torn between rage and sorrow.
"I understand," she started, but the way he slumped in Schmidt's grasp shut her up.
"You really don't," he whispered, his gaze dropping hopelessly to the floor.
"Barnes…Bucky…" she tried again, but couldn't find the words. What could you possibly say when someone's world was torn apart…when everything they loved was taken from them with one fatal blow?
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Bucky didn't respond. Schmidt just dropped him and he collapsed in a disjointed heap on the floor…as if he were a puppet whose strings had been cut. After a few moments, a small, broken sound could be heard coming from the heap that was formerly a man.
James Buchanan Barnes was crying.
"We are not done, James," Schmidt said, kneeling down close to him. "You will pay for his death…a hundred times over…and I won't let you die. It won't be that easy. You will feel this loss for years…before I let you go."
Again, he gave no response…didn't even look up when they left. He didn't really have control over the tears that spilled down his face. He didn't know how he could even draw breath to cry. His heart was gone. All he could feel was the gaping hole where it used to be…like a black hole that just sucked everything out of him, leaving him with nothing but pain.
Is this…what I did to you…when I fell?
XxX
"Is it true, Boss?" Coulson's near distraught voice sounded over Fury's secure line. "Is he really dead?"
"I don't know," Fury growled, rubbing his temples in frustration. "We haven't been able to contact them. They're completely off the grid. A shot like that, though…"
"He…he might have survived," the agent said, his voice hopeful.
"You think so? What's the scene look like in Berlin?"
"Schmidt's raving. He wants to let Sergeant Barnes kill Rumlow when he comes out of shock. At this rate, I think he well may. He's completely unraveling. If the captain's still alive…he needs to make an appearance soon…or we might just lose the sergeant…maybe even…to the Winter Soldier."
"Do you really think that might happen?"
"Yes. They're not going to wait anymore to take Zasha, either. They know Barton's in the area, so the operation's going to be performed in just a few hours. Boss…we know 2R's producing fighters for whomever Loki and Schmidt are working for. I'd say now's a good time to bust them wide open," Coulson suggested.
"You're right. I'll send out Thor and Stark to see if they can rendezvous with the others…find out who we've still got with us. I can send a strike team out after them."
"And the council?"
"Well…they might send an assassin out for my head, but at this point, we've just gotta take that chance."
"Your force won't be ready in time to stop the C-section. I'll keep you informed of what's going on. If you make your hit in the middle…Natasha might lose her."
"I understand. I'll keep the line open," Fury said.
"That's risky, Boss."
"We're out of time, Coulson."
Coulson sighed as Fury headed out of the conference room.
"Damn right, we are."
"Is it true?" Thor demanded as Fury headed onto the bridge. "Is the captain really dead?"
"No way," Tony interrupted before Fury could get a word in. "No way that damn capsicle just lays down and dies, not when Barnes still needs him."
"You've all seen the footage. We don't know what's going on. Our agent says HYDRA's in chaos and he hasn't heard anything from 2R. If there's some kind of plot going on, it's all on the part of this Crossbones character. He was acting alone. What we need to do right now is get in touch with them, assess what our current fighting strength is. I have coordinates. Is that new reactor ready to go?" the director asked the billionaire.
"It's solid. Just need a place to install it."
"Well, you'll have that if you can meet up with the others."
"I shall accompany you. They will need help," Thor said.
"I'll send a team after you. There're gonna be kids in this place we need to extract."
"God, we need to just start up the Avengers' daycare center. We're gonna be swimming in kids before too long," Tony said, rolling his eyes as he headed off the bridge, Thor close behind.
"What does that mean? How does one 'swim in kids'?"
"Same way you swim in anything else. Get a pool and dump 'em in."
"But…would it not be unpleasant to swim in a pool of baby goats?"
"Stark!"
XxX
"They'll catch you, or worse, they'll actually take you."
"Right. 'cuz you got nothin' to prove."
"I asked for an army and all I got was you. You…are not enough."
"But I don't expect you to understand that because you're a chorus girl."
"And those are your only two options? A lab rat and a dancing monkey?"
"It's been tested more than you, pal."
"Not exactly an improvement…"
"You are deluded, Captain…"
"But…there are limits to what even you can do…"
His whole life…his whole damn life, everything he wanted had always been just out of his reach. Even after everything should have been perfect, he hadn't been good enough…he hadn't been strong enough to protect what really mattered. And now…when it mattered the most…he still fell short. He was never enough.
Not enough! Not enough! NOT ENOUGH!
He can see Bucky now, trying to smile, even though he's breaking. His mouth doesn't move, but he can still hear him screaming.
His eyes…so dead…as he lies pinned…helpless…
Are you really going to leave him like this?
No! How could I?!
Then why did you die? You are useless as a hero…and useless as a man…if you cannot save him. First Zola, then Loki, now Schmidt. You'd almost think you didn't really care for him…that you let these things happen.
That's not true!
He sees him then as he found him all those years ago…strapped to a table in Zola's lab…already more than half dead.
"You should have let me die," he whispers, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling. "I wanted to die."
"Are you really that selfish, Captain?" Loki's voice hisses in his ear. Then a different torture chamber paints itself over the old HYDRA one…a frozen, dark place far from any stars he's ever known.
"I took what I wanted…and you couldn't stop me from taking it."
"You've never really been able to stop any of us," Schmidt's voice takes Loki's place…and he can see the half-memory, half-nightmare of Bucky pinned beneath him.
"You never could defeat me."
He reaches forward, fingers wrapping around his old enemy's throat.
"I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you," he repeats over and over again, like a prayer…and as the Skull chokes to death in his hands, his face slowly changes…until he's strangling Bucky and not Schmidt.
"Steve…Steve, please-"
Horrified, he drops him in a heap…but then that heap begins to laugh and Bucky slowly gets to his feet. Only he isn't Bucky anymore; he's the Winter Soldier…and a hideous mix of voices issue from his mouth as he speaks…Zola…Loki…Schmidt…
"Bucky belongs to us."
"No," he whispers, crashing to his knees. Desperate, he holds out the ring. "Bucky, it's me. It's Steve. Don't you recognize me?!"
It's hopeless. The Soldier doesn't even see him. Laughing, he pulls out a gun and shoots him through the heart.
Steve let out a muffled cry in his sleep. Whenever he started to thrash, either Clint or Bruce would put a hand over his mouth, not wanting to risk the delirious super soldier being overheard.
When Clint had returned from tracking the agents, the Hulk had pulled Steve away from the site of the battle. They were hiding not far from the highway. At first, Steve had barely been breathing, but he was somehow still alive. When it seemed that he might pull through, Clint had run the risk of digging the three bullets out of his chest. They didn't have the equipment to analyze what the rounds had been packed with, but being that it had been several hours and both the bullet and retrieval wounds had healed, but the super soldier was still unconscious and battling fever and delirium, his two comrades were both certain his condition had something to do with whatever had been in those bullets.
"Y'know…we're gonna have to do something if he's not awake by morning," Bruce commented, using the tattered remnants of his shirt to wipe the sweat from Steve's face.
"Yeah, I know. I'm going to retrieve that imager in a few hours. If he's not awake by then, I'll head into the city. I might be able to get in touch with S.H.I.E.L.D."
"And Steve?"
"You're gonna have to keep an eye on him. If we take him with us, people are gonna start asking why we aren't taking him to a hospital…and a regular hospital wouldn't be able to help him anyway."
"Might do you some good," Bruce noted. Clint had been hit by no less than three of the red agent's flechette projectiles. Unlike the captain, though, his wounds weren't just going to heal up overnight, so he left the flechettes in his body and tore pieces from Steve's jacket to serve as makeshift bandages. He could take care of the injuries properly once Natasha and the baby were safe.
"Trust me, Banner, I've had worse. I'm good so long as I can still notch an arrow."
"Well, I hope you can notch quite a few of them. You'll be needing them if these 2R guys have even more like those two."
"No, shit," Clint muttered, glancing down at the battered bullets he'd dug from Steve's body and wondering what could possibly be strong enough to send Captain America into delirium. Just what else had the Red Room been cooking up in the years since their supposed demise?
Damn it, Cap, you gotta pull through. We need you on this one.
XxX
He had tried. He had tried so hard to reach him. Bucky had stretched his magic to its absolute limit trying to touch Steve's mind…desperately trying to touch him again…but all he could feel was static. He might have kept trying…except that there were only so many times he could handle being shocked by the ICD…although, he would admit it was a pain he almost preferred to the nearly unendurable ache where his heart had once been. Disparate parts of his mind told him that he couldn't keep testing the ICD…that he had to stay alive…but those parts were fast losing ground against the all-consuming black hole in his chest.
Have to…have to…keep fighting…for…
For what? Why do you have to keep fighting? What do you have to live for? There's no reason left.
Steve's dead…he's dead…dead…he's dead…Why?!
You can't be dead! You can't just leave me like this! You promised me…we were going to be together…always…and you always keep your promises.
How can you be dead…while I'm still here? I shouldn't be here. I should be with you. Steve…where are you? Where did you go? I can't…see you…can't feel you. Where did you go that I can't find you…can't follow…? Tell me where to go. I'll follow you anywhere.
Anywhere…
"You know…I'm almost beginning to miss the old sergeant…the one who struggled," Schmidt's voice suddenly broke through the despairing, miserable voices in his own head, and Bucky came awake to find himself in their old enemy's bed once again…and Schmidt no longer required chains to restrain him.
He didn't really remember being brought here…nor did he remember his clothes being removed, but they seemed to be gone. Even like this, trapped in this most precarious of positions, violated in more ways than could be counted…all Bucky could focus on were Schmidt's bare fingers.
"Where's…my ring?" he whispered, his throat dry.
"Oh, I don't know. I guess I lost it…fell down the drain, perhaps."
Gone…gone…just like Steve. It was all disappearing…and he was disappearing right along with it…and yet, somehow, he still lived.
"Why don't you just kill me?!" he screamed at the Skull, briefly struggling against his hold on him.
"Ah, there he is. It's not that easy…to be with him again. Do you really think you'd be reunited? Surely your angel is bound for Heaven. Where do you think you'll be going, little one?"
He knew that. Of course he knew that…but even that was surely better than to go on living like this…to be alive when he wasn't.
"It's because of you that he's dead," Bucky growled, but Schmidt only chuckled as he thrust into him a little harder.
"He is dead…because he tried to save you…but I am not the one who killed him, James."
This gave Bucky pause as a memory drifted through his head…the man with the white marks on his face…holding up Steve's shield like a trophy.
"Crossbones," he hissed, his vision going red as his eyes went dark.
"Yes. I'll tell you what, little soldier. I'll make a deal with you. If you can kill Crossbones for me…I'll kill you. I must make it slow, of course, but I will kill you…just like you want."
"K-kill him…?" Bucky mumbled, his thoughts a seething, tangled mass of pain, anger, and confusion. Kill the man who had killed Steve? Nothing would be easier.
"Just so. Then you will have what you want…exactly what you want," Schmidt soothed, running strangely gentle hands up and down his sides…along his thighs.
Bucky's mind reeled; coherency had long since left him. All he could seem to see was an image of himself holding a gun to Rumlow's head…and the sweet satisfaction of blowing his brains out. Slowly, he nodded, his soft eyes hardening into something both frozen and boiling…something that would haunt the dreams of the most hardened killer.
Though Bucky wasn't quite conscious of it, Schmidt sneered triumphantly as he forced Bucky all the way down on the bed, bringing him to completion with a small, cold laugh. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips to the corner of his mouth.
"Mine," he whispered harshly against his skin. "The Winter Soldier is mine."
XxX
Preparation for the surgery was a whirlwind of activity right up until the moment Natasha was actually on the table, and even then, it never quite seemed to settle. She wasn't properly numbed, so the pain kept her senses sharp. She insisted on watching every minute, not even turning away as they cut into her…down through the layers of her…until they reached her womb.
Zasha didn't cry out when they cut her free. She was fully formed and her blood-soaked skin was flushed with life, but she was very small, little more than fifteen inches, and she couldn't have weighed more than two pounds. She barely moved…was barely alive…and yet she was the most perfect thing Natasha Romanoff had ever seen…and something inside of her started to break when the surgeon carried her to Dreykoff, who stood off to the side observing. She would be damned if she allowed that monster to be the first to hold her daughter.
Freed of the burden of worrying for Zasha's safety, the Black Widow took that moment to remind them all who she was. Though she was still open, still bleeding, she seized one of the surgical knives from the tray beside her and leapt to her feet, bringing the blade to the surgeon's back.
"Let me hold her," she demanded, her voice hoarse as her body trembled with pain and exhaustion. "Let me hold her…just once."
Dreykoff sneered as he watched his creation struggle to stand, barely managing to keep her hold on the weapon. Finally, he nodded.
"Do as she says," he ordered the surgeon. Slowly, the man turned and Natasha dropped the blade, holding out her arms for her baby.
"We do need to get her into an intensive care unit," the man said.
"I know," Natasha said, arms trembling as she brought Zasha in close to rest against her breast. "Just a moment…a moment…"
As she looked down at the baby, the Black Widow felt that she trembled with more than just exhaustion. Zasha opened her tiny mouth wide in a yawn and wriggled faintly. Natasha couldn't help the tiny gasp that escaped her lips.
My little girl…my little girl…
Clint's daughter…their baby…she knew she would never be able to have enough of just looking at her. Except there wasn't time now. Zasha needed care…and she was standing here bleeding out. Leaning down, she pressed a gentle kiss to her daughter's forehead.
"I'll get you back," she whispered. "I promise I will get you back." Then she held her baby out for the surgeon. "Take her."
The surgeon quickly whisked Zasha out of the room and Natasha remained on her feet for several more minutes, defiantly staring down her creator, who only smiled at her in return.
"Now that's out of the way, moya krasavitsa, I'd say the real fun can begin."
XxX
(A/N) One little translation note…as I understand it, moya krasavitsa is 'my beauty' in Russian.
Also, just because I'm curious…of the extended cast, any idea which characters are Marvel's and which characters are mine?
