{12}
Bucky sifted his paws curiously over Steve's wardrobe, standing on his hind legs and swiping apart fabrics of separate garments and pulling them aside.
He stared at the Avengers black sweatshirt lodged in between plaid shirts and a dark green military suit hanging tidily on metal hanger and encased in clear plastic, the cat looked at the uniform through the fever blur and traced his paw over the sleeve. He was familiar with the uniform and couldn't help but smile to himself. It was a momentarily glimpse of happiness that soon became doused with the harrowing sense of the curse flowing in his veins.
Though, he tried to fight pain, it still twisted the threads of his imprisoned soul. Memories faltered as he lowered himself down from the closet but his claws were suck in the plastic and he tugged the uniform off the rack and fell over him.
He was trapped.
Releasing fussy noises, the cat thrashed against the plastic, trying to escape as frantic pants of breath emerged from his mouth. One moment he felt helpless and bolted inside the closet, underneath a self of books and old records. The plastic created obstruction over his vision as he nearly banged his head into something hard and metal. A hollow ting vibrated in his ears, as he alarmingly stepped back only to trip on Steve's boots.
"Get this stuff off of me!"
Suffocating, Bucky screeched in distress, and managed to pull off the sheet of plastic, breathing heavily as he caught a glimpse of a couple shields-a very traditional spade crusading looking with the American red and white stripes and stars, and another one, circular, faded from age but still held that feeling of power. He run his paw over the curve.
For a moment he felt stuck in a strange haze, bones wracked against his jet fur and horrible sounds and painful shocks passed through him.
He stared at the robot rising it's arm and firing a blast of energy. The same blue power source that had turned soldiers into ash within seconds. He felt all the blood in his face drain as he raced towards Steve. His heart was throbbing with every breath as he released as time slowed around him.
There wasn't a chance that his best friend could survive a blast, so he reacted on impulse and picked up the shield, and stood in front of Steve who slowly lifted himself up with his hands. He marched forward with defiance burning in his eyes, holding the shield close to his chest proudly as the cold flecks of snow slashed over his face, and then as he was about to draw fire at the machine ...A shock wave of a a bone jostling blast struck him and sent him hurling out of the train car and he clung to a small metal bar and waited for Steve to save him...
He jumped aback quickly on his feet and went back to the bed and ducked under the mattress to hide. Closing his eyes he flushed out the images with darkness, hopelessly trying to distract himself, focusing on nothing just the rumbles of his silent purring and the echoes of his surroundings.
Still, the residual guilt consumed him; it wasn't nearly as bad, it was only a small fragment of memory. Those waves of delirium made him sick. He didn't want to spew his guts out. Not again. Not for the third time in two days. Steve would suspect that something was wrong. It was least thing Bucky wanted his friend to be concerned about, it was bad enough that he brought Steve into his morbid world of monsters, witches and dark magic. He didn't want the captain to see his pain, to see him struggle to regain humanity. He was going to fight this internal battle alone. Steve couldn't carry his burdens and shield him from the fate HYDRA bestowed onto him, and he knew that time was betraying him. The curse was merging into his bones, thoughts and whatever was left of his heart.
He wiggled out of the obscurity of the mattress, sneezing a little as dust practicals touched his nose and padded his way to the balcony door, silently.
It was in his instincts to run...and so he crept outside into the heavy snowfall and disappeared leaving small paw marks for Steve to follow.
Still learning to cope with the daunting truth of her grandniece's life, Anna felt battered by the cruel realization that her bloodline had been cursed for years, ever since HYDRA's occult leader condemned her beauty and soul inside a vessel of a stray and ageless black cat. She gave her life up to spare her sister and unborn niece. It was a sacrifice of the heart, because she never got to stare into pale blue eyes of her love-James-she had grieved for him every time she looked at the brilliance of colors in the blue sky, snowflakes and scraps chrome metal piled in vacant alleyways.
For a lifetime, she prowled the cities of the world, a silent and disheveled observer in the shadows; staring out young couples, families and gravestones.
It wasn't a great way to survive, but it kept her strength up and drove hope back into her, giving her a sense that she will be reunited with him.
There was one small fraction of time, a few weeks ago, she had caught a glimpse, just a small glimpse of the Winter Soldier stalking inside the obstructed area of parked vehicles with scope launcher lifted high to his metal shoulder. She was curled up under a small car during that time, hiding from the loud vibrations of explosions and screams from the hordes of frantic and panicking citizens racing through the streets. When she was preparing to bolt, that moment she froze as the a gleam of silver reflected in her eyes. She only the back of him at first, armored vest with a gun strapped between his shoulder blades, the long and wolfish mane was the sight recognition.
Once the smoke cleared, and flecks of sunlight dotted the asphalt the black feline raised her head with uncertainly welled in her ember eyes. The disturbance of heavy gun fire was deafened to her ears. In every direction there were mercenaries holding up assault rifles and aiming at the running targets. It wasn't the average afternoon rush hour, smoldering vehicles were turned upside down, with gauging holes eating away at the compromised metal. In vague glance of her sharpened vision, she saw a a flash of blood red hair flopping off shoulders of a lithe female pacing down the street, and watched the red haired woman look over her shoulder, darting her green eyes apprehensively. Then, in the thick of chase the intrigued cat moved closer to the wheel cap, and found herself staring at menacing figure emerging from the clearness of gray.
The Winter Soldier stalked closer with slow, and calculated steps as he approached the area-he looked pissed off about something, his grayish blue eyes were trained and vacant as he loomed over one area, right in front of the vehicle she had been hiding underneath. Her little heart sped up a few beats, and she became still as he crouched down, knelt on one armored knee-she saw the clear visage of his face.
His deadly eyes hidden by straggly tresses of hair that nearly touched his shoulders. His graphite mask was the same, concealing the fullness of his lips and structure of his heavy jaw. She opened to open her mouth, and say something...anything to him, but she hesitated when a shunt of doubt and blanched away. She couldn't bring herself to face him, not after all those years of endearing a broken heart -she needed to let him finish his mission.
For moment, she just stared at his fierce eyes and whispered in muffled voice, almost like she was crying. "James..."
Anna shook off the memories, she caught of glimpse of herself in the cracked mirror, and then after standing on the vanity, looking at her bedeviled reflection, she collected herself back up, took a few heavy inhaled and jumped down onto the scuffed floorboards. Her acute ember eyes looked at the little girl huddled in a closet, tattered blankets and cushions made up a fort like shelter against the damp air of the vacant apartment. She moved in hushed steps, and rubbed her face over the child's tucked legs, purring softly to ease the tears she noticed escaping from her new friend's eyes. "It's alright, little one," she cooed, stroking her head against the small hand poking from the heap of covers.
"Close eyes, and go to sleep. I'm here and I promise you, nothing bad will come..." she paused and turned her glaring eyes to the window. There was a faint gleam of light piercing from the dingy blackness of the alleyway. Anna's only sign that hope didn't abandoned her. Despite the gloom that surrounded her, she found relative peace on this night, she knew that James was out there searching for her, maybe not his eyes, but his heart. "Just the dawn."
Cold. Bucky felt his bones jostle as he stalked through the mounds of snow. His ebony fur dusted with white as he moved towards the wooden stairwell. He had been wandering the streets, twisting obstructions of the dank maze of alleyways, pathways and roads. He kept in the obscurity, blending well of his surroundings as he walked in hush and slinky steps across the barren sidewalk; unheard and unseen by unwanted eyes. The only witness of his elusive presence as a small tuft of brown fur wedged in narrow space of a crack. A mouse-his prey-instincts controlled his thoughts as his blue eyes trained on the small rodent popping in and out of its hiding space.
With patience, the cat lowered his body, and then he crawled on his belly using his frontal paws to give him traction. His approach was silent but merciless. Timing was everything to his hunt. His laser eyed vision locked on his target as his stomach growled, and blood pumped faster. He felt the twisting aderaline boost in his system. Claws retracted out to gather the sensory of vibrations of mouse pattering in front of the hole. It was consuming surge of fire rushing in his veins. He halted in mid-step, and leveled his eyes on the vulnerable animal. At first, he was unnoticed, but then, the mouse jerked in startled movement, twitching its nose and then it froze under the encroaching shadow of the cat.
The rodent was easy prey.
"You're mine," the cat hissed daringly; feeling his retracted claws sink into the snow as he positioned his slender form into attacking stance. The mouse was corners, squeaking in fear as the daunting blue eyes of feline glared intently down on the short limbs, the limits of a counterattack were thin. Bucky knew his prey didn't stand a chance against his programmed hunting tactics. His predatory instincts drove him closer to the objective. He was impeded to spare the mouse from the kill. He was craving the nourishment the creature's blood offered. He waited for the opening, a distraction and then he seized his prize, lunging at the small and defenseless rodent as he grabbed the mouse with his parted jaws. The grimy taste was horrible in his mouth, but he bit down and jabbed his fangs into the writhing body and killed the mouse within seconds of his crushing bite.
"Bucky?" a voice firm and assertive said, jerking the cat's attention from its hunt. He rasped out the obvious question. "What are you doing?"
Steve, who had appeared behind Bucky, made his way around the feline until he was standing directly in front of his friend. A mouse was dangling in the cat's jaws, bleeding from its recent demise. The look in Bucky's eyes was more wild and brute-like than Steve had yet seen, and it troubled him.
"Buck, are you alright?" the super soldier asked, concern evident in his tone.
Bucky stood there, his body tensed and blue eyes widened, as he fought to recover his voice, "Steve," he seethed dropping the dead rodent from his jaws. He took an alarming step back, and bowed his head in disdain. "I didn't mean to do this..." He breathed trying to collect himself. "It just came over me..."
"It's okay, Bucky," Steve said, bending down. "It's not your fault, and you've done nothing wrong anyway. Do you want something to eat besides a nasty corpse? You can just ask for that kind of stuff, you know."
"It was a laspe of controlling instinct...That was all. I'm used to harming the weak and I'm capable of killing without any concept of doing it," Bucky spat indignantly, forgetting about the lifeless mouse at his paws and trying to break out of his stoic composer as he looked up at Steve.
It was strange to feel guilt shoot into his heart as he snapped his gaze back at the victim of his brutal programming of an assassin. He flattened his ears, and withdrew a step away almost to the wall. He opened his mouth and sighed, "Sometimes I get the feeling that I will never change who they made me into-I've been unmade so many times that I don't even feel alive." he admitted in a distant voice.
"I want you to stay still for me for this little operation, Sergeant James Barnes," the nefarious voice of Armin Zola whispered in his ear with gruff undertone.
Bucky straightened against the cold metal of the elevated table, teeth digging into a wooden stick, lifting his head and letting his shoulders fall back and relax under the tightness of the straps. He released deep concentrated breaths, staring at the dots of light reflecting over the cement wall before him, nearly blinking with the moisture open of his eyes. His pale blue irises were dilated from the harsh light streaming down from the hanging fixtures above his twitching body, his right hand jerked as the needles pierced into his frigid skin making his tensed muscles of his jaw lax as he maintained a stilled and statue- like posture. His eyes grew dormant and glazed as numbness took hold of his bones.
"Now tell me if you can feel anything?" Zola hissed, lifting up his surgical tools from the cart that had been wheeled to his side. "I want to make sure that you are comfort before we begin the procedure." Bucky panted out heavy gulps of breath as the circular lights flicked on, nearly blinding him as figures loomed closer to the table, their bodies clothed in face and faces covered with a layer of fabric. In their hands were sawing and soldering tools attached to dangling wires that looped over pieces of metal plating gathered on a wooden table across from him.
"No..." Bucky managed to stammer out as Zola reached over his long tresses of brown hair, holding his head up as he writhed against the table. His bare chest heaved out harsh breaths as the muscles grow firm when the cold and stale air of the room waved over his exposed skin. He could barely focus on his thoughts as another jab of needle punched in his forearm. He wanted to scream but the serum pumping in his veins made him voiceless. All he could do was surrender to the pain.
Zola sneered, wickedly, driving his fingernails against the softness of Bucky's sculpt. "Scream all you want Sergeant Barnes...You will taste defeat once your pathetic and undisciplined mind becomes the use for HYDRA to control..."
An electronic shock surged up his arm and he cried out the only name that him from entering submission. "Steve!"
Bucky flinched against the wall, his shoulder blades curved upwards as he swiped his claws into the air, avoiding his friend's hand as if Steve was holding something repellent at close proximity.
Steve instantly recoiled his arm, looking at Bucky with confusion and pity. Something had definitely triggered in Bucky's mind; Steve had seen it in the cat's clouded eyes. Steve did not dare to ask what it was since it had obviously been a painful memory, but he did his best to offer his friend some peace.
"Bucky, it's alright; you're safe." Steve swallowed the emotion building in his chest and continued. "I know that they broke you, unmade and remade you many times, but they did not destroy you. I can see it in your eyes, pal: defiance. You were always stubborn, Buck. If anyone in the world can break the bonds of HYDRA, it's James Barnes. You've just got to start believing it."
Those words barely registered. He clenched his muzzle into scolding expression. Kill. Kill. Kill. He jerked his head up in a violent manner, summoning whatever pitch of humanity he had in his detained voice. "No," he snarled in harsh words, slashing his metal paw begrudgingly at the dead mouse.
The stench of decay invaded his nose. It had become all too familiar to grasp, the thickening aroma caressed over his muzzle as he stiffened, he wanted to dig his claws into his head and stop the skull pounding images from emerging from the depths of his destructive mind. "I can't change.." he panted, saliva was dripping from his blood stained fangs. "Why are you so dumb to understand that truth?"
A smile tugged at Steve's lips. "I guess it's just who I am," Steve said softly. "You know, you once said that I was too dumb to run away from a fight. You told me that's the man you were willing to follow. Believing in you, Bucky Barnes, after all that HYDRA has done might be just as dumb as not running from a fight. But that's the man I am, and its the one who saved the world. I'd rather be dumb and do what's right than smart and without honor."
"That's the stupid." he shot back with livid animosity.
"It may sound stupid, Buck." Steve released a despairing breath, "It's the only way I know how to live."
The cat fell into silence, listening to the hidden dread in his friend's voice. The earnestness and determination was matched equally by pain and remorse on his chiseled features that it struck him to know that Steve was using hope to ease the twisting and binding pain that scarred both of their souls. The pit of his emptied stomach was growing as tightening knots of coldness weaved in his veins. He knew that running wasn't an option anymore, he couldn't run and hide from the darkness, that was a motive of a coward and Bucky Barnes wasn't a man who could easily taste defeat. He had to treat the situation as a battle plan, find the enemies location and hit them hard without being unseen.
"There are a number of safe houses location within the city," he spoke with firm cadence in his voice, sounding like his old self again. "Each one as I remember has information stored in the floorboards...Usually maps and encryption codes. Nothing, that will help me stop choking up fur balls, but it's worth a shot to gather the detail we need to figure out where HYDRA's ghost files are stored. If we can obtain those files, we might have a fat chance of discovering the old hags whereabouts." He managed to give Steve a weak faltering smirk before using his claws to draw a symbol of two snakes crawling over a skull in the snow. "I remember seeing this image before ...It's still unclear what it represents, but I know that evil created it and it wasn't HYDRA..." The ting in his voice grew darker. "It was something else..."
Steve grinned, feeling warmth cascade over his sore heart. This was much more like the Bucky he knew, and that was confirmation of the hope Steve had long cherished that his friend was indeed still there and fighting against HDYRA. And not only that, but now they had a lead, and they could form a legitimate plan. Having a resolute purpose would undoubtedly help Bucky, who was trained to complete missions.
"I'll do some research and try to find out something about the image," Steve said, trying to be as encouraging as possible. "And maybe you can look at some maps of D.C. and determine where exactly these safe houses are. Once we have all the necessary intel, we can actually make some headway with Operation Disenchantment."
"Operation Disenchantment?" Bucky parroted in a rasp. "I want to keep this in a small circle." He moved his paw in the snow with circular formation. "None of your SHIELD friends need to know about this, Steve."
"Don't worry, Buck," Steve said with a slight ghost of a mild chuckle. "I just thought you might find it easier to focus on our problem if we treated it like a mission. No one else needs to know what we're doing if you don't want them to. Besides, with your inside information, we shouldn't need anyone else's help infiltrating the safe houses, right?"
"That's right, Star-Spangled shorts," Bucky joked back, moving closer to him as more flecks of snow dusted over his black fur. "I think that's what I used to call you when you put on that uniform?"
So Bucky really did remember even minute details. Steve felt tears form in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. A big smile formed on his face, and he nodded eagerly. "You did."
Steve suddenly noticed something strange as he prepared to head back to the apartment. His forehead seemed to be warmer than usual, and his body felt heavy. Perhaps he was simply tired; a plausible option considering the fact that he had not slept for more than a few hours in a while. He tried to shrug off the feeling, especially since Bucky was clearly in one of his better moods, but it seemed slightly harder to think.
"You always teased me about my uniform," Steve said, his eyes focusing on those of the cat in an attempt to keep his mind engaged in the conversation. "Some things never change, I guess."
"Yeah," Bucky snorted back, with nonchalance in his tone. "Except me."
The litany of emotions scattered across Steve's chiseled exterior. Sadness, remorse and dismay quietly reflected in the pools of his deep blue eyes as he took in Bucky's devalued words that not only diminished his him, but also his promise he made to Bucky seventy years before HYDRA created an icy division between them. A passive and unrelentling posture finally took form. The super-soldier clenched his jaw and looked down at the distress black furred creature that his best friend had become. He felt downright conquered by the foreboding sense of losing Bucky again ; it was as if a vice grip seized his chest, each moment he dared himself to stare into those eidolic eyes looking up at him with revulsion welled deep inside. Staring into the snafued soul of his friend increase the strength of dread within him.
He had failed to save Bucky the last he needed him the most. He wouldn't allow his friend to suffer again.
Steve shook his head in a silent reverence. He looked once again into the cat's blue eyes; a steely resolve gleamed inside of them. "This transformation is not going to be permanent, Buck. I know that, and I think you know it, too. " He pressed his lips into a firm line, and drew out a long breath of ease. " No matter what you say, you are just as eager about finding the reverse as I am. You wouldn't be that way unless you knew, deep down, that there's hope."
The cat did not answer Steve, but he could not deny that he did hope. Steve stood to his full height and began walking back towards his apartment. "C'mon, Bucky," he called behind him. "We could both use some lunch. Besides," Steve faced his friend and felt a weak smile tug over his lips, "Those kittens are probably missing you."
With that, Bucky nodded and ambushed Steve's massive shadow with a graceful leap out of the snow, he kept himself aloof and followed the super-soldier up the stairs, doing his utmost best to cling onto strength and not to show weakness such as tears were threatening to spill from his eyes. So distracted he was by his own thoughts he did not hear an eerie voice poisoning the air with a rancorous incantation directed to Steve until he turned around and stared at a moving shade looming in front of a parked vehicle.
He paced in front of Steve on the third step near the door, and looked down at red drops, that had been clear and unmistakable blood, "Steve?"
A/N : A big thank to my wonderful co-writer Thalion Estel and wonderful readers JuliaAurelia, Aka-Baka Hoshi, the Darkness Knight and everyone else. Forgive the grammar mistakes in this chapter. I've been so dragged out and busy these last few days, but I will edit them when I have more time. Enjoy and thank you.
