[14]
The only sound in the vent was Natasha's soft breathing and the faint slap of their palms against the vent's metal floor.
Clint could feel years' worth of grime and dust pressing into his skin and he knew his knees were dragging twin trails of clean surface behind him.
Any noise that might have been sounding outside was muffled and Clint wasn't sure what was happening now. Who knew why the alarms had gone off or why the lockdown had been initiated. Despite that, his heart was steady against his ribcage; he knew that he would get to where he needed to go in due time. Hopefully, he wouldn't be too late.
He didn't know exactly how far they had crawled, but he could feel the gentle swell of air against his skin and knew that they were getting close to the edge.
"Why do you like him so much?" Natasha's voice sounded suddenly, echoing faintly through the close quarters.
"Who?" Clint asked, but he knew who she was talking about; he just liked to be obtuse sometimes.
Her hand smacked the back of his leg, showing just what she thought about that. "You know who."
Clint chewed on his bottom lip and didn't answer her right away, squinting ahead into the gloom.
It was hard to describe the relationship that he had cultivated with Bucky. He hadn't known him long, and he would never know him as long as Steve had, but despite that, Clint couldn't help but feel like he had formed a close bond with Bucky that wouldn't be easily broken.
Clint felt like he and Bucky were the same in some respects. Sure, Clint had never been taken as a prisoner of war and then tortured and used as a weapon against his will, but he knew what it was like to have his free will taken away.
Loki had stripped Clint of everything, and Clint had felt...nothing. It happened and he didn't care. Not until he woke up, and then everything that he had done came rushing back.
The blood of his fellow SHIELD agents and innocents he had spilled only served as a reminder of who he really was and would always be: a killer.
Before SHIELD, he had killed, with his free will intact this time, and hadn't stopped to think of what his actions were doing to those around him.
He had become numb to the blood and innocent lives that were being ripped away from their families. His hands had been drenched in the souls of the people he had killed, and he hadn't cared.
But then Coulson showed up, and forced him to see. To really see what he was doing, and things had changed. He had changed. But the lives of those he had taken, and all the memories that came with them, still lurked in the back of his mind, waiting for him to let his guard down so they could haunt him again.
So yeah, Clint figured he knew a little of what Bucky was feeling coming out of HYDRA's control.
"Clint?" Natasha asked quietly.
Clint shook his head, focusing back onto the present. He shrugged awkwardly from his hunched position.
"We're buds," he finally said. "I didn't have anyone else."
The air suddenly got thick with Natasha's guilt. Clint could taste it on his tongue and feel hovering over his shoulders. He let his head droop slightly; he didn't want her guilt. She wasn't the one that stopped calling. He had made the choice to work with Fury after what had gone down in D.C. and out of all the Avengers, she was the only one that he knew truly cared about him and would never have abandoned him.
"It's not like I was going to hang out with Fury," Clint said lightly, concentrating on sliding forward and not the woman behind him. "And when I asked Maria to play a game of poker she shut the door on my face. Something about me cheating all the time, but I don't know what she's talking about. Bucky was the only one around."
Natasha was silent on his heels, but her guilt was still clouding the air, choking them both.
Clint sighed quietly, and opened his mouth to crack a joke; they didn't need to be dealing with these emotions right now. There was too much going on.
"Don't," she finally said, beating him to it. "Don't pretend like you're not hurt that we didn't come find you before this."
"We?" he said, eyes pinned to the darkness that stretched out in front of him. "I know you, Nat. You didn't do anything wrong. Neither did the others. They just...don't really know me, and I don't blame them for that. It's my own fault for not trying harder. After New York, I didn't really stick around, did I? I just took off to lick my wounds on my own and then...I just didn't come back."
"Clint—"
"No, it's okay. But this brings me back to Bucky. He feels like a friend, and not just someone that I was forced to work with. Don't get me wrong, I like Steve and the others, but we were kinda forced together," Clint said.
He opened his mouth to continued, but the vent's floor suddenly disappeared. He stopped his crawl, thankful for the slow pace he had set, and peered over the ledge into the vent that led down to the next level.
"We're going down," Clint said over his shoulder. He could just make out Natasha's red hair and the paleness of her features in the dark. Her teeth flashed at him and her chin dipped.
"Take the lead, Barton."
Clint shifted his position so that he was sitting with his legs hanging over the edge. He took a shallow breath and then eased himself down into the black hole.
.
.
Bucky was on the ground now. He was pressed against it, skin digging into the cement and eyes flicking up and down, seeing things no one else could.
His whole body was shaking, ripples of phantom pains gripping him tight and not letting go.
And Steve was helpless.
He couldn't do anything.
He didn't even know what was going on.
All he knew was that the Russian words blaring from the speakers were doing something to Bucky that hadn't been mentioned in the thin file Natasha had given him all those months ago. It had talked about various forms of "conditioning" that had been done to Bucky, but nothing about this.
Judging from the looks of horror on Tony and Sam's faces they had no clue about what was happening either. This only caused Steve's panic to skyrocket; two of the smartest people he knew, and no one knew what to do.
"Do something!" Steve yelled, eyes wide as he stared at Bucky's writhing body. He didn't know who he was talking to or what was supposed to be done, but what else could he do? Useless words were all he had.
He raked his hands through his hair, jerking at the strands. Ignoring the sharp pain that come from his head, Steve let go and dropped to his knees. His hands hovered over Bucky; he didn't know if he should touch his friend, if he should try to wake Bucky up.
"Steve..." Sam said behind him, trailing off.
Steve ignored him. He reached down, placing a hesitant hand on Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky didn't react to the touch.
"Aw, Buck..." Steve said, fingers digging into Bucky's jacket. His helplessness was choking him, and he suddenly felt like a kid again when he had to watch his father die from the poison in his lungs, while he and his mother could only watch.
Bucky had been there for him then too.
Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know what to do, but he wasn't leaving Bucky to deal with this alone. No matter what happened.
Just as suddenly as the words had started, they stopped. The echo of them rang throughout the room and in Steve's ears.
His eyes sprang open and his breath ripped out his chest in short gasps. Steve sat back on his heels, frozen in a hunched position over Bucky's still shuddering form.
He kept his hand on Bucky's shoulder as if he could do something to help, but then the voice spoke again.
"Soldat?"
Bucky froze, eyes snapping into focus.
"Bucky?" Steve said, hope rising in his chest despite the knowledge that whatever was happening wasn't finished. "Are you back with us?"
Bucky didn't answer. Instead, he abruptly sat up, shedding Steve's hand with the movement, and a second later his body unfolded and he stood up.
Steve copied the movement, slowly getting to his feet. He stood in front of Bucky, feeling anxious waves coming from Tony and Sam behind him.
Steve swallowed, throat bobbing. "Bucky?"
But Bucky's eyes were pinned over his shoulder, looking at nothing. His mouth was pressed into a thin line and his hands were down at his sides in a relaxed manner that didn't fool Steve for a second; Bucky could kill them all in seconds if he wanted. The question was: did he want to or did someone else want it?
"Soldat?" the voice was impatient now.
Bucky blinked and suddenly spoke, "готовы соблюдать."
"What the hell?" Sam muttered behind Steve.
"English now, Soldier," the voice said.
Bucky's head cocked to the side and he blinked slowly. "Ready to comply."
A shiver rippled down Steve's spine at the cold words and what they meant.
"He's gone," Steve said through numb lips. He swung his head around to look at Tony and Sam with frantic eyes.
Sam's mouth pinched and he didn't quite seem to grasp what Steve was saying, but Tony did. His eyes widened and he reached out to snag Sam's jacket with his gauntlet covered hands, pulling him along as he backtracked.
"Steve—," Tony started, his free hand flapping at Steve to follow.
"Hang on," Steve snapped and turned back to Bucky, jerking in surprise as he caught Bucky's blue eyes staring directly at him.
There was nothing of the Bucky that Steve knew in those eyes. They were cold as sharp steel and blank as a white page. They were the eyes of a killer. They were the eyes of the Winter Soldier.
Steve's heart gave a painful thump against his ribs and his throat was suddenly dry.
"Buck?" he said hoarsely. "It's me. It's Steve." This wasn't going to work and Steve knew it. It hadn't worked up on the helicarrier and Steve had given it his all. He had almost died for it (and he would gladly die if it meant releasing Bucky from the cage of his own mind).
The thing was, Steve couldn't live with himself if he just turned tail and ran, leaving Bucky behind to be used by the HYDRA forces amassed upstairs.
Besides, Steve had never run from a fight before and he wasn't going to start now.
"Soldier?" Bucky's chin lifted and he looked to where Steve knew a camera must sit. "Kill them—No, kill the other two. Leave the Captain alive."
There was a crackle and the speaker fell silent once more.
Steve's mouth twisted; he didn't know why HYDRA would want him alive, but it couldn't be good. He also knew that they wouldn't just be sitting on their hands upstairs; HYDRA was on their way downstairs to come collect their property, and they would be here sooner rather than later.
Bucky didn't say anything to the nameless voice, but his eyes found Steve's again.
Steve swallowed roughly, taking a short step back. He held up his hands, palms facing Bucky. "Bucky, hey—"
Bucky's metal hand shot out, but Steve was expecting that and his back curved as he leaned away from the shove. Bucky's fingers brushed Steve's shirt, touch feather-light.
Bucky's eyebrows drew down into a frown, but that was the only sign of his displeasure.
He stalked forward again while Steve rapidly backed away.
"Bucky, you've gotta stop!" He knew the words were pointless, but that didn't stop them from spewing from his lips in a torrent.
"Steve!" Tony's voice sounded, and Steve jerked around to where Tony and Sam were standing just under the doors' threshold.
Tony's hands were up and both palms were glowing white, high pitched whining sounding from them.
"Get out of the way!" Tony yelled with a jerk of his chin.
Steve started to sidestep, but he had made a mistake looking away from Bucky, even if it was for just a second.
Fingers grasped the back of his shirt and he was suddenly jerked backwards, straight into Bucky's chest.
A short huff of air burst out of Steve as Bucky's metal arm wrapped around Steve, holding him close. He could feel Bucky's shallow breaths of air tickling his neck, and for a brief moment Steve had no idea what Bucky was doing.
But it became abundantly clear a second later.
"Fuck!" Tony snapped, hands shifting as he tried to get a clear shot at Bucky, but Steve was his human shield and Tony wasn't going to fire in case he hit Steve instead.
"Bucky..." Steve started. He could feel Bucky's heart pounding away at a steady rhythm and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, that was enough for Steve to remind himself that his Bucky was still inside. It was enough to remember that he needed to keep fighting.
Steve jabbed his elbow backwards, hitting Bucky's gut.
A whoosh of air exited Bucky's lips and he hunched slightly from the impact, but he didn't let go of Steve.
But the movement gave Steve enough space for him to curl forward and grab the arm that encircled his chest. Clutching the metal forearm tightly, Steve used brute strength to heave Bucky up and over him.
Bucky landed heavily on the cement, and Steve swore he heard it crack under the impact.
Steve only had a moment to feel a swell of victory that he had put the Winter Soldier on his back before he was flying forward too.
They had still been connected by their hands and Bucky had taken full advantage of that, twisting his hand around to grasp Steve and send him through the air.
Steve landed and skidded across the floor, closer to Tony and Sam than he would have liked.
He sprang to his feet, shaking off the fall with a twist of his head.
Bucky was already on his feet and was marching towards them, but this time Tony was ready and twin blasts from his palms hit Bucky, sending him through the air once again. He went further than before, hitting the glass cage that he had spent the past month in. It shuddered from the blow, but to Steve's surprise, didn't crack.
Steve blinked at it for a second, and then jerked around to face Tony. "The cage."
Tony, already knowing what Steve was thinking, nodded grimly back, and together they ran towards Bucky.
.
.
Clint's boots hit the floor of the vent with twin thumps, louder than he would have liked.
"Watch it, Barton," Natasha said above him.
Clint shifted forward a little, and she slithered down behind him. Her breath tickled his bare neck and she leaned forward to steady herself with her hands on his shoulders.
He knew that she didn't actually need to steady herself, and that the touch was more likely for him. To remind him that she was with him and that whatever was waiting for them, they would face together.
He didn't look at her, but Clint lifted his hand and tapped it against the top of hers that still rested on his shoulder. The warmth of her skin was fleeting, but Clint appreciated it nevertheless.
"Let's go, Romanoff," he said, and then dropped down to his knees to crawl into the final vent that would lead to the hall just outside the room that housed Bucky's cage.
It wasn't far to the end; Clint could see light shining through the flittered covering. It didn't offer much to see by, but Clint could now hear a little more of what was happening outside.
There were shouts and the dull sound of flesh hitting flesh.
Clint swallowed and picked up his crawl. He felt Natasha do the same behind him.
When they reached the end, Clint twisted into a sitting position, boots hovering over the vent's cover.
A heavy kick sent the cover flying. Clint followed a second later, dropping down into the well-lit hallway.
His eyes flicked to his right and then left, and his hand had already taken out his pistol, which felt woefully inadequate compared to his compound bow.
"I've got your six," Natasha breathed out, and as one they set off towards the double doors, ignoring the stairwell that wouldn't let anyone through anyway; the blast door coverings were still fixed in place, meaning that whatever had triggered the lockdown in the first place wasn't over yet.
Clint's breathing was even and controlled, and Natasha was a comforting presence behind him. It had been too long since they had moved like this, worked like this, but Clint could never forget how they worked together, like two jagged pieces of glass that somehow fit together.
Clint pulled his focus to the moment, easing himself slowly through the open double doors, hanging close to the wall. It was dark inside, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on.
Steve and Tony were fighting Bucky hand to hand. The lack of guns or any kind of weapon was evident by their close quarters, but Clint could see Tony's gauntlets flaring to life, shooting blasts of energy at Bucky, who was managing to dodge most of them.
Bucky didn't have his weapons, Clint supposed he must have been stripped of his rifle, pistols, and knives after they got back, but his metal arm was more than adequate for almost any type of fight.
Steve didn't have his shield either, but that wasn't stopping him from literally using his body as a human shield whenever Bucky set his eyes on Tony.
A flare of anger burst in Clint's chest, and he wondered exactly how long it took Steve to decide to fight his oldest friend.
But then Clint actually looked at Bucky.
Bucky was fighting with more force and control than Clint had ever seen. It was almost machine-like with how precise his movements were. And not just that, but the blue eyes glinting through the shadows definitely didn't belong to the man that Clint had come to know.
He swallowed roughly; that wasn't his friend. Not anymore.
"Shit," he muttered, lowering his pistol slightly.
"That's the Winter Soldier," Natasha added needlessly behind him.
"And he's going to kill them unless we do something," a new voice broke into Clint's focus.
It startled him, but he didn't show that when he swung his pistol around to jab it into the face of a man he didn't know. The man was African American with a slight build, although Clint didn't doubt there was power hidden beneath his civilian clothes.
The man raised his hands, but didn't back off. The pistol in his face apparently scared him less than the fight going on in the middle of the room.
"Sam," Natasha said, smoothly stepping forward to stand between the two of them. She reached a hand up, and pressed it against Clint's pistol, forcing it to aim at the ground. She jerked her chin at Clint. "Sam, this is Barton."
Sam eyed Clint, nodding, but that was all the greeting that time allowed for.
A shout rang out through the room and they all jerked around to see Steve fly into the open door of the cage—Clint wondered when Fury had opened it, but knew that wasn't important. Steve slid across the tiled floor, smacking into the steel toilet in the corner with his back.
"Aw, fuck," Sam hissed and jerked forward.
Clint watched as Bucky turned his eyes on Tony, no emotion in them at all. Not even a glimmer of victory that he had finally gotten his prey alone, because that was what Tony was, Clint realized. Tony was prey and Steve had merely been in the way. He wondered what that meant.
Tony was backpedaling rapidly, shooting off energy blasts as quickly as he could. His aim was wild and Bucky didn't have to try very hard to shift out of the way.
Clint didn't think, just reacted. He ran forward, close on Sam's heels.
"Bucky!" he shouted, knowing that words were useless against whatever had been done to his friend.
Bucky jerked a little at the sound of Clint's voice, tearing his eyes off of Tony for a millisecond. He gave Clint a cold, unknowing look before turning his attention back to Tony.
He reached his metal hand out, going for Tony's neck. His fingers were inches away when he was suddenly jerked backward.
Clint reached Tony's side and watched as Steve, with his forearm around Bucky's throat, manhandled him away from Tony and into the cage.
Bucky's body bucked in Steve's grip and his eyes rolled as he looked for a way out. His boots scrabbled against the tiles, leaving dark marks in their wake, but he couldn't get out of Steve's embrace.
Steve swung Bucky around, throwing him heavily to the ground before turning on his heel and running out of the cage. Once outside, he twisted his body around and his palm hit the glass, the almost invisible door hissed, closing Bucky inside.
Bucky had rolled twice after Steve threw him and was on his feet in seconds, but he was too late to catch Steve and stop him from shutting him inside. He hit the glass full force, slamming his shoulder into it.
The glass shuddered, but didn't break.
Clint let out a low breath, watching as Bucky shoved off from the wall and started stalking back and forth, his eyes on Tony and Sam, who stood next to Clint.
"What the hell is going on?" Clint said, turning to face Steve, whose chest was heaving. He was bleeding freely from a small cut on his hairline, but otherwise looked uninjured.
"Clint?" Steve said, brushing an impatient at the cut. He managed to only smear the blood across his skin and into his blonde hair. "Are you okay?"
Clint's eyebrows rose. "Am I okay? What about you? You're the one who was going toe to toe with the Winter Soldier."
Steve waved a hand, but didn't turn to glance at his friend locked in the cage behind him. Clint understood the urge not to look at the emotionless shell of a man who used to be Bucky.
"I'm fine," Steve said, dismissing Clint's concern easily. He clearly wasn't, but Clint didn't push it.
"Well, I'm not," Tony interjected. "He almost killed me."
Clint turned his gaze to Tony. The other man had been using a light and almost joking tone, but Clint could see the faint shudders that still rippled through Tony's body. It could have been adrenaline, but almost getting killed by the Winter Soldier was probably the main cause of it.
"That's not important," Clint said, giving Tony a sly grin. Tony's mouth popped open in outrage, but Clint's smile was sliding right off his face as he looked at Bucky through the glass. "What's important is figuring out how the hell we get our Bucky back."
He could feel Steve's surprised eyes on him, but he ignored that. He didn't much feel like explaining to the Captain how he had developed a friendship with Bucky. Natasha was one thing, but Clint wasn't big into the whole 'share with the group' thing.
"We don't even know what happened exactly," Sam said, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "The HYDRA agent said some words over the speakers and—"
"He was their puppet again," Natasha broke in.
Clint gave her a sidelong look, but she wasn't looking at any of them. Her eyes were on Bucky, but he wasn't sure that she was even really seeing him.
He swallowed, reaching out a hesitant hand to grip her elbow. She startled minutely under his touch, but didn't shake him off. Her head turned and she caught his eye. Clint blinked slowly at her, asking without words if she was okay. She gave him a small nod, and Clint knew that was all he was going to get out of her; she was strong and this reminder of her past wasn't going to break her.
"What do you know about it?" Steve said, turning towards her with urgent eyes. "How can we break him out of it?"
If Natasha knew a way, she wasn't able to share with the team.
Loud clanging echoed through the room from outside in the hall, and seconds later heavy boots sounded.
"Shit." Clint didn't know who said it, but the sentiment was shared with everyone.
"They're here," Steve said, eyes flicking around the room. He was looking for a way out of this, but there was no way out. Clint knew that. He had known it the moment he saw Bucky's hollow eyes.
There wasn't enough time to figure out how to break Bucky free from the trance HYDRA had put him in and find a way to save the compound from HYDRA.
Clint shifted forward, bringing his pistol up. Natasha fell into line with him, her face a grim mask of determination.
"We can't just—," Tony started, reaching out to tug at Clint's shoulder. He shook him off easily, and gave Tony a dark look.
"We aren't getting out of here alive," Clint bit out through clenched teeth. "Fuck."
His grip tightened on his pistol and he lined up a shot for when the HYDRA agents inevitably marched through the double doors. Behind him, Bucky's fist pounded against the glass, but Clint didn't turn to look at him. He didn't know what he would see, but he knew that he wasn't any more prepared to face the Winter Soldier than he was only minutes ago.
An agent appeared, leading the way with an assault rifle tucked up against his shoulder. Clint didn't give him a chance to get a bead on them. His bullet hit the man's head, snapping it back and sending him crumbling to the ground.
"Behind the glass," Steve said suddenly. "It'll give us some protection."
Clint nodded, eyes still on the doors that were lined with shadows of more men, who were now thinking twice before coming through.
They moved as a group, circling around the cage while Bucky followed them, until they were secured behind the glass. Clint and Natasha both took one side, hugging tight to the cold wall.
Another head appeared around the corner of the doors. Natasha took him out and he joined his fellow agent on the floor.
"This isn't going to work," Tony said somewhere behind Clint. "We need a new plan."
"Then get on it," Clint snapped, not bothering to direct this to the man himself.
He knew they couldn't stay behind the glass forever. There were too many HYDRA agents and they definitely didn't have enough ammo to take them all out.
Clint had been in some hopeless situations before, but this one was looking particularly grim, and he wasn't sure how they were going to make it out intact, or if they were even going to make it out at all.
"Please, no more shooting," a voice suddenly called out, echoing throughout the room. "We've come to talk."
The voice had a Russian accent, but his English was good, making Clint think that this man had spent a significant amount of time in the States.
"Sure you do!" Tony yelled back. "Is that before or after you have your pet kill me."
Pet? Clint's lips twisted, but he didn't correct Tony; there just wasn't time.
The voice laughed and then said, "I'll admit, that was hasty of me. It has been some time since I've had control over the Soldier, and I've forgotten how it feels to command him."
As far as excuses went that one wasn't very good, and not just that but it was disturbing in a way that made Clint's stomach do a little flip.
His eyes narrowed as a large group of HYDRA agents started to shuffle into the room, forming a protective circle around a man. The man didn't look special, but he was probably the Russian and the only one who knew how to control Bucky. In other words: he was important.
Clint immediately turned his pistol on that man, holding his sights steady as he lined up a headshot.
The man's head turned and he eyed Clint, a small smile playing on his lips. He didn't look concerned that there was a gun on him, and then before Clint could squeeze the trigger he dipped down into the crowd of men and women, disappearing from sight.
"Shit," Clint muttered, angrily shifting his aim to one of the lackeys, guarding the Russian.
"I propose a truce, or rather an exchange," the man called out, hidden from sight in the crowd of agents, who had all stopped moving just a few feet from the doors.
Clint didn't look over his shoulder to see the reaction of his team behind him, but the words filled him with a sinking feeling.
"Spit it out," Tony said. His voice was strained, but he hid it well and Clint probably wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't listening for it.
"Let us leave with our Soldier and we will leave your compound. You and your people will not be harmed." He paused. "Simple and easy."
"Absolutely fucking not," Clint snarled immediately, while Steve snapped out, "No way. We're not handing Bucky over to them."
"Then you will all die," the man continued as if he had heard the hissed words. "You have no reason to believe me, but we will leave without killing anyone if you give us what we came here for."
Clint shoved away from the glass, pulling himself behind the bulk of it. He shot Natasha a look from her side, and she gave him a small nod, telling him that she would keep an eye on HYDRA while he yelled at any of them who were thinking of handing Bucky over.
His eyes flowed from one face to the next; it was easy to see who was considering the offer and who wasn't.
Clint zeroed in on Tony.
"Stark," he said, slipping into the less personal surname that he had briefly abandoned after the Battle of New York. "You are not giving them Bucky."
Tony tore his gaze from Steve and eyed Clint, a strange look flitting across his face.
"When did you become such buddies with the Winter Soldier?"
"I'm not friends with the Winter Soldier," Clint said. "I'm friends with Bucky Barnes."
Shock darted across Tony's face, but then he snorted. "Well, your friend isn't home right now." He jerked his chin at the cage where Bucky stood, staring at them with hooded eyes.
"Do you understand what they're going to do to him if you hand him over?" Clint said, ignoring Tony's statement. "They will take any progress he made on becoming his own person again and replace it with their emotionless assassin, and they won't let Bucky back. They'll keep him as the Winter Soldier forever."
Tony opened his mouth, but Steve broke in, "Tony, if you give Bucky to them, what's to stop them from sending him after us? Or anyone else for that matter? You give Bucky to them, and you're giving them back their prize weapon."
Clint could hear the disgust in Steve's voice at describing his friend as a weapon, but there was no disputing that it was the truth.
Tony's eyes slid to Steve's. "You're making a great case for why we should just kill him."
Clint's eyes narrowed and he saw Steve's jaw jump as the captain clenched his teeth.
Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to kill him."
It wasn't convincing, but they didn't have time for this.
"We need a plan," Clint said instead of addressing Tony's words. His eyes shifted from Tony to the cage. He looked past Bucky to the men that stood on the other side.
"I'm not saying we just give Barnes back to them," Tony snapped, anger coloring his words for the first time. "I'm saying, we put a tracker on him, send him out, hunt down the whole HYDRA cell and wipe them out."
Typically, Clint would wholeheartedly agree to this type of plan—hell, if he was the one in the hot seat, he would have said fuck it and let himself by captured to lead the good guys to the enemy base.
But this was different. This was HYDRA. This was Bucky.
If they got him again, they weren't going to let him go. They would put him in a fridge in the middle of nowhere and not take him out until the Avengers or, more importantly Steve Rogers, were nothing more than a memory.
"Steve," Sam said, and Clint squeezed his eyes shut briefly; he knew what Sam was going to say. "There isn't any other way out of this. Everyone is going to die if we don't do what they want, but if we do what Tony says, we still have a way to go after them."
"Sam..." Steve said, voice cracking. "I can't do that. You know that I can't."
"People are going to die, Rogers," Tony said, arms crossing over his chest defensively.
"Then let them die!" Steve snarled, rounding back on Tony. He immediately paled and then shook his head. "I didn't mean that."
Tony was staring at Steve with dark eyes. "I think you did."
Silence stretched over them, pulling tight and thin. Clint's eyes flicked from Steve to Tony, arms tensing in anticipation of what might be coming next.
But even he wasn't quite prepared for when Tony stepped forward and slapped his gauntlet covered hand against Steve's unprotected neck. Clint knew from experience that Tony had hit it just right to send Steve into sudden and complete unconsciousness.
Steve crumbled to the ground, but didn't hit it heavily; Tony caught him with both hands and helped him down gently.
When he looked up, regret clung to him like a coat, but he clearly hadn't see any other way.
"What?" he demanded when he caught Clint's eyes. Clint stared back for several beats, and then said, "You might have taken Steve down, but I'm still here, big guy." A dark grin slipped onto his lips. "I've made my stance on this very clear."
Tony's regret disappeared, replaced by anger. "What is it with you two? Can't you see that if we don't give Barnes over to them, we're as good as killing everyone in this building? Hell, Barnes is has good as killing them!"
"We can figure out another way—,"
"We don't have enough time."
"—you just don't give a shit about Bucky so you don't want to see a different option," Clint finished, not bothering to acknowledge Tony's point.
Tony's eyes flashed and he jerked his chin at Clint. "Romanoff, put a leash on your bird."
Clint's mouth thinned and he almost forgot about the group of HYDRA agents behind him as he took a step closer to Tony. He gripped his pistol tightly by his side, but he raised his free hand to grab a handful of Tony's shirt, jerking him forward so they were inches from each other.
"You don't know me well, Stark, but believe me, I will not hesitate—,"
"Clint." Natasha was suddenly at Clint's side. She tugged at his arm, forcing him to let go of Tony, who was sneering back at Clint, daring him to continue.
Natasha shifted so that she was standing in front of Clint, and reaching up with both hands, she gripped Clint's face, making him look only at her.
Clint's breath was coming out harshly, but he did what she wanted and focused on her.
"Calm down," she said softly, "we're going to get through this, but killing each other isn't going to help."
"I'm only going to kill him," Clint said, eyes flitting momentarily to Tony over her shoulder.
A ghost of a smile flitted across her lips. "I've wanted to do the same, but we need him."
"No—,"
"Listen to me, Clint," Natasha interrupted, "I agree with Tony and Sam."
Clint's eyes widened and for the first time he realized that Natasha wasn't holding her guns anymore. Her fingers dug into his skin as he tried to move.
"It's going to be okay. Don't fight, Clint, you know that I can take you down, if I have to."
"Nat, please don't do this," Clint said, trying to shake his head, but her hands held firm.
"I'm sorry."
"Fuck," Clint muttered and then shoved her away with his empty hand, pulling his head free from her grasp.
She danced backwards gracefully, but it was already too late; Clint had felt the pinprick of a needle on his skin, injecting him with one of Natasha's fast acting sedatives.
He could already feel the drug coursing through his veins, and he didn't know if it was cruelty or if it was the only one she had, but he recognized the effects of this particular drug and he knew that all it did was make his limbs useless while keeping his mind completely aware and awake.
He folded to the ground, falling onto his side with his back to the cage. He eyed the feet of the others, but he was unable to do anything but blink angrily at them.
Clint could hear Tony calling to the HYDRA agents, but he stopped listening as he tried to think of a way out of this.
There weren't many options. Not when he was basically useless. He tried to clench his teeth, but even that didn't work. He could have cried in frustration, but he snapped back into reality a second later when Tony's voice rose.
"That wasn't part of the deal! What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"Tony, get back," Natasha said, voice strained. "They will kill us if you don't."
Don't what? Clint couldn't see shit. All the action was happening behind him.
A moment later, he felt a boot dig into his spine and suddenly he was being rolled onto his back.
He squinted up at the unfamiliar face. It was one of the HYDRA goons, but not the important one.
"What about him?" the man said above him. He jabbed a finger down at Clint, looking to someone else for an answer.
"Unimportant. Leave him with the others."
The man above him disappeared.
The sound of voices and the cage being opened were the only things Clint could hear. Boots shuffled around him and he heard a command in Russian, directed at Bucky and then minutes later, the sounds fell silent.
"Sam—," Tony bit out.
"I'm already on it," Sam said, and then there was the sound of boots pounding against the floor.
Clint still couldn't see anything but the ceiling, but he figured Sam was running after the retreating HYDRA agents.
A boom suddenly shook the room, and Clint nodded internally; of course they would block the only exit by lobbing a grenade or two behind them. The longer it took Clint and the others to get after them, the more time HYDRA had to get far away from SHIELD. This was escaping and leaving the enemy alive tactics 101.
Tony must not have gone to that class, because he swore colorfully over Clint as if he hadn't seen that coming. For a genius, Tony was sometimes stupid, but Clint knew he wasn't being fair; Tony hadn't been thinking about that. He hadn't really cared that HYDRA was getting away because he didn't care about Bucky. But maybe that wasn't fair either, maybe it was just Clint's anger talking.
Natasha suddenly appeared over him. She crouched down and gripped his underarms, hulling him up into a slumped sitting position.
She was pale, but looked unharmed.
Clint gave her a dark glare and her eyes shifted away from his. He then looked past her to where Steve...
Where was Steve? Steve wasn't lying by the glass where Tony had put him only minutes before.
Panic started clawing up Clint's throat, but he couldn't do anything about that emotion. The drug was still wreaking havoc on him, and while the feeling was frightening and humiliating, he didn't have time to be concerned with that, so he shoved it down and inhaled deeply through his nose.
His eyes flicked to Natasha. She was staring back at him, any emotions she was feeling put aside, leaving her face a blank mask.
"They took him too," she said quietly. "They took Steve."
.
.
A/N: I wanted to post this earlier, but I got my wisdom teeth pulled two days ago and really wasn't in the frame of mind to do so (aka I was high as fuck).
Anyway. I hope you guys like this chapter because I really like it, even tho it was incredibly hard to write. Initially when I was thinking through this fic, it was going to end around here with the team saving the day and them all riding off in a blaze of glory. But when I started working on this chapter, I had the thought of what if they don't save the day? What if HYDRA gets Bucky back? And I really liked that. I thought it made sense to flesh this conflict out a little more. Plus, even if Tony is starting to see exactly what was done to Bucky, I don't think that really means he's forgiven him, so I thought giving Tony more time to process everything was a good thing. ALSO! I decided very last minute that HYDRA was also going to take Steve with them. First because I just love that idea, and second, it gives Bucky and Steve some quality time (even if it is in a bad situation).
This got really long, but I'm just really excited to share my thought process with everyone!
Also, I do know that this isn't super realistic. Like, there's a good chance our team could have fought their way out etc. etc. but clearly I didn't want them to win, so just go with it, even tho it doesn't make the most sense.
Thank you to everyone who is reading/reviewing/favoriting/etc. Also, I would like to throw a special thank you to all my guest reviewers! There have been quite a few of you leaving amazing and encouraging reviews, and I can't thank each of you personally, so this is me letting you know that I appreciate you all.