One and Freight Car
Steve held Bucky like the long lost brother he was, firmly but gently, his head just above and turned slightly away over Barnes' shoulder. Sam saw the glint of tears begin to leak down Rogers's face from under closed eyelids.
Slowly, mechanically, Barnes' arms came up and embraced Steve more fiercely, as if at any moment seventy years of separation would happen again. Bucky buried his face, ashamed, into Steve's biker jacket as the years of misery began to pour out of him like an upended pitcher.
Wilson watched the reunion, deeply touched at the friendship that refused to die despite all odds. His eyes became misty as he thought of Riley; glancing up to the sky, he observed the pristine white clouds passing by on this delightful summer's day. Falcons' throat grew tight as he wiped a few tears of his own from his eyes, imagining up there somewhere was a F.A.L.C.O.N. unit soaring above him.
"What about your friends?" Bucky muttered into Steve's shoulder after the initial crying spasms faded but still hitching his voice.
Steve opened his red rimmed eyes, looking over the corn field they stood next to, surprised at Bucky's first question. Why was he worried about them? He didn't even know them. Suddenly, he remembered- Bucky always worried about everyone else. Never himself. "It doesn't matter. I'll deal with it." He replied, this voice also thick with tears.
Bucky pushed away from the embrace, wiping his eyes on the back of his hands, "Steve." He hesitated, eyes searching Rogers' uncertainly like a lost child, gesturing weakly, "I don't think I'm worth all this."
Steve's eyes grew huge in hurt. He didn't know what to say. He expected Bucky to be over joyed seeing him again. Rogers had imagined all the catching up they had to do. The reality that Barnes was broken was always there, but how broken?
"Bucky, you are worth every bit of energy I've put in you." Sam interjected trying to lighten the moment and seeing the psychological work that needed to be done, "Don't be down playing all the hard work I did to keep you alive so you can take all the credit."
The corners of Barnes's mouth ticked up slightly as he glanced in Wilson's direction, but his eyes were still despondent.
"Why?" was all Steve could say.
"I'm still… him." Bucky said humiliated, looking away from both of them.
"What do you mean?" Rogers pressed feeling a larger sense of urgency.
Bucky looked back at the two men and took a shaky breath, "There's one book. A red book with a black star on it. It has my activation codes in it. As long as it's out there and someone can get at it, I'm a threat."
"They we'll find it together!" Steve volunteered immediately, his posture suggesting he wanted to break something.
A harsh barking chuckle came from Bucky as he wiped his nose with a gloved hand, "It's not that easy Steve. I'm not the only Winter Soldier."
Both men froze with the implications of that statement.
"Is there somewhere safe we can go to discuss this?" Sam asked cautiously looking up and down the road. They had already stayed too long in one spot.
"Let's take a ride." Bucky suggested, grasping onto something besides his self-loathing. He gingerly got back in the truck.
"When did you get shot?" Steve blurted, now noticing the wound.
"It's a long story. Go drive that pathetic excuse for a car." Barnes retorted grouchily and Sam smirked.
Steve frowned obstinately but inside he was smiling. There was a hint of his old friend. Just under the surface of abuse.
"Well, this is rustic." Sam said sarcastically as they reached the peak of the remote forested hill and saw the sad shanty before them. "I didn't know we were on a boy scout weekend. I would have brought marshmallows and sticks. Can we sing campfire songs?"
Bucky had an arm over Steve's shoulder as they hiked up the small mountain, the vehicles left behind about a mile away on a logging road. Barnes sucked air, still low on blood and occasionally groaned in pain. Sam had been witness to the amazing level of indignation Bucky gave Steve when he suggested he carry Barnes up the mountain. The tongue lashing Bucky dispensed still made him chuckle.
"What is this place?" Steve asked slightly skeptical of the structure.
"When… you have… bits of your mind back. And no one is looking for you. You put it… to good… use." Bucky replied grimly, catching his breath. Steve gave Bucky a pained glance trying to imagine Barnes coming back to himself but knowing ultimately there was no escape from Hydra.
"You built this?" Sam asked, gesturing to the one roomed shack.
"Yep. I think… I think it was… 1963." Bucky let go of Steve and stood up, a hand over his wound. It was all but closed, but he was still anemic.
"No caretakers here." Wilson stated and Bucky shook his head no, approaching the door.
There was no lock and the door swung open with a creak. It was clear that others had found the structure over the years and used it. There were some gun shells from a hunter, tarnished in the corner under cobwebs. Hints that romantic interludes occurred more than once were left behind too. A few wine bottles and beer bottles littered the floor, brown and clear glass.
Rogers batted at the spider webs around his head but admired the general construction of the shack. "I don't remember the army teaching us how to build… buildings."
"They didn't. Hydra did." Bucky said absently searching for something on the floor, kicking leaves and other refuse around. Rogers and Sam abruptly felt uneasy at the word Hydra. Both simultaneously wondering what else Hydra had taught Bucky.
Finally, Barnes found what he was looking for and pulled his left arm up like a jack hammer. Steve flinched as the vibranium fist came down through wood floor boards with a crack inches from his foot. "Always have a back-up plan." Bucky stated grabbing at the shards of broken wood, pulling them up in chunks.
Wilson and Rogers peered into the hole. Bucky removed a case of MRE's, several knives and some dated pistols with ammunition.
"Want some lunch?" Bucky said with a barest hint of mischief, holding up a can of rations from 1963 and a bowie knife.
The two other Avengers looked uncertain, "Sure?"
"For 1963, this isn't too bad. God bless the German military." Sam joked poking at the can of warmed food in his hand. The small campfire only was hot enough to barely heat the MRE's Bucky had stashed, "I'll let you know if I get food poisoning or something." The three sat outside the shack in the late afternoon sun streaming down through the thick tree canopy.
"We all will, won't we? Or do you do that slower than me too?" Steve poked back casting a glance at Wilson.
Wilson gave him a dirty look, "Ha, ha, Captain Kangaroo."
"I don't understand that reference." Steve laughed, a smile washing over his face making him look every bit his youth, and not ninety.
Wilson rolled his eyes, but he was chuckling too.
Bucky noticed the level of camaraderie between the two men and it made him feel a kaleidoscope of emotions: awkward, jealous, happiness for Steve, and disappointment. Steve was his best friend. Not this 'newcomer'. A covetous flame ignited in his chest but it was snuffed out by the cold wind of guilt. It was good Steve wasn't alone and this Sam guy seemed to be a really genuine friend. Wasn't it? After all, Barnes couldn't even die right. He'd left Steve. Not the other way around. Feeling mortified, he looked down in his can so they couldn't see the conflict on his face.
They finished the meal in silence, scraping the cans, not realizing how hungry they had been.
"Bucky, you still hate spiders?" Steve asked as the three men surveyed the building.
"Yes." Bucky replied almost shivering. The plates on his arm moved rhythmically. Steve had a hard time not staring.
"Then remind me to carefully introduce you to a kid name Peter." Rogers replied ripping his eyes away from the arm.
"Not sure I'll get to do that." Bucky said darkly keeping his eyes on the hut. Wilson looked at both of them, the pain arcing between.
"Well, this… 'cabin' isn't going to clean itself. Let's get to work." Sam interjected breaking the thin ice of remorse and suffering that formed between the two vets when they weren't busy.
They made a pile of trash several yards away and jerry-rigged a broom from some branches of surrounding bushes, evicting a few bats in the process. When it was done, the place wasn't covered in spider webs and the floor was respectably clean; perfectly serviceable shelter for the three men. The only issue would be fitting them all in there comfortably enough to sleep.
That task done, Bucky told Sam where water could be found, if his memory was right and the present hadn't modernized it. Barnes produced a few beat up metal canteens with the other supplies; Wilson took them to be filled.
Steve set himself down among the leaf litter, knees pulled up, elbows resting on them. Barnes sat down but more silently. That unnerved Rogers a bit. The forest was quiet for a moment before he spoke, "Bucky."
Barnes looked at him, his long hair falling across his forehead.
"I'm so glad you're back."
Barnes smiled a hesitant smile, "Yeah." He looked out into the forest, "But it won't last."
Rogers felt his gut tighten, "Whaddya mean?"
"My book. I need to get it. Alone." Bucky replied still looking out into the green.
"I can help you."
"No. This time you can't."
Rogers sighed digging his heels into the earth, "Are you just doing this to be stubborn?"
"No."
"I can't lose you again." Rogers said quickly, feeling the tears reaching all the way back to his childhood welling up from inside becoming a tsunami. Barnes's words tore the scar off his heart from the train in 1943.
Bucky turned and saw Steve's hurt and it killed him inside. "I'm so sorry Steve." Bucky whispered.
"For what? You didn't do anything wrong." Rogers choked still looking at his best friend.
"Yeah. But I still did it." The despair was sickeningly palatable. "I couldn't even die right."
"Buck."
"No. I left you. I promised your folks I'd take care of you. And I left." Bucky swallowed nervously, "And when it was my time, I couldn't do that right. And I became… this." He lifted his left arm. "I almost killed you, Steve. I can't risk your life to fix what I've become."
"But that isn't you. You can't blame yourself for it." Steve tried to reason with him, desperately grasping at straws.
"I do. I remember. All of them." The desolation in Barnes' eyes was as deep as the ocean.
Steve didn't have an answer for that.
Sam's approach was audible.
"Where is this book of yours?" Sam asked cautiously also sinking into the leaf litter with a soft crunch. The tension in the air was like live wires. He wondered, apprehensively, what the two friends had talked about when he retrieved the water.
"Romania. Last I knew." Bucky said flatly, his face a mask.
"Interesting choice of location." Sam pondered, "So how do we get there?"
"You're not helping me." Bucky objected.
"Buck…" Steve started.
"No." Barnes turned and forcefully glared, "You don't know what I've… what they…" Bucky stood up and paused in pain, holding his side.
Steve jerked to get up but Sam reached out, stopping him. Rogers looked distraught.
Barnes turned away from them holding himself in an awkward angle, breathing loudly to block the voices of the dead from his ears.
"Ok. You don't want us to come. Fine." Sam soothed, "How about you start from the beginning. Let it out, Barnes. We got time."
Bucky stood up a bit, his breathing slowing, gradually turning back to the two seated men, "It started with that train. That freight car." He swallowed. "And falling."
Steve felt his viscera twist in a million directions. Sam's hand stayed on his forearm.
"I thought I was going to die." Bucky laughed bitterly, "Really. I thought 'This is it!'. Well, actually, I wondered a bit how I made it to the bottom of the canyon… almost in one piece." He looked woefully at his left shining arm. "In the end, it didn't matter."
Barnes paused looking out into the woods, his knees trembling slightly. Sam and Steve waited.
"Zola." Bucky spat. "That sick sonofabitch. It was him again." Glancing at Steve, "Just like Azzano."
Rogers cast his eyes down in shame. He didn't get to Bucky fast enough then, instead being a dancing monkey for the military circus.
"No, Rogers. Don't. Don't beat yourself up about this one." Bucky sighed tiredly as if he was getting comfortable letting the skeletons in his closet out, "Peggy got him in the end."
Steve's head snapped up, "What?"
Bucky gave a half smile, his eyes tired, "Yeah. Your girl. She got him with a little help from Chester."
Steve was speechless, staring at Barnes.
"Hydra let me know that much." Bucky continued, "Because turns out, they put Dr. Faustus in with Zola in a SSR jail. Together!" He raised his hands in exasperation.
Sam watched and learned, "And who was Dr. Faustus?"
"Just the number one mind wiping, life destroying, hypnotizing freak in Hydra." Bucky growled, waves of hate rolling off of his body, "So they sat in there. Together. Planning. Scheming. All under the SSR's nose."
"What does that have to do with you, Bucky?" Steve asked timidly. He knew at that point in history, he had already crashed the Valkyrie and was useless.
Barnes' face went blank, "Because they used all their knowledge on me."
Steve jumped up as if he'd been shocked and turned away, raising his hands to his face, feeling like he just ran a marathon.
"Ok. Steve. Ok. Relax. It was in the file… some of it." Sam reached out. Steve turned around again to face Barnes, his expression a mash of hurt and begging forgiveness.
"Reading it and hearing it from the source are two different things, Sam." Steve spat angrily.
"Rogers. It's done. The past." Barnes said as if he didn't believe it himself. Steve looked right through him.
A moment of quiet passed as the two friends collected themselves and Sam presided over the calming.
"You know, I was ordered to kill her." Bucky admitted guiltily, when he felt able to go on.
"Who? Peggy?" Steve asked, putting his hands on his hips.
"Yeah." Barnes looked at him, that stare that was part Bucky, part Soldat.
"When?" Sam asked.
"1989. She was Director of S.H.I.E.L.D." Bucky explained, "And Hank Pym had just shared the news about a particle he discovered. Obviously, I failed." He paused, "But I'll never forget the look of hate she had for me then. Inside my head, I was screaming. Screaming for her to recognize me. To see James again and help me get out. But he was too strong, and I couldn't get through to her."
The two men kept listening, reserving judgement.
"Then in 1991, I was ordered to kill Howard and Maria Stark." Bucky's voice cracked a little.
Sam and Steve still sat silently. It was in the file, but Tony had no idea.
"He saw me, Steve." Bucky looked conflicted, "He called me by my name! And in my mind, I was yelling. I was clawing. I was doing everything I could to stop myself. But I was compliant…. I was complicit!" Barnes's breaths came faster now, "I shot him. And I choked her…with my hands. She was crying out for him. For Howard. Steve… I knew these people. I did it. I did all of it." He held is hands away from himself as if there was the blood of his victims coating them. Falling to his knees, Bucky pounded the earth below him, sending clods of soil into the air, bruising his knuckles on his right hand, dirtying his left.
"Ok. Slow down Bucky. Slow down." Sam soothed.
Rogers said nothing, and simply embraced his friend again. The crying came.
Sam watched the two men, huddled together on the forest floor weeping, late afternoon sunlight dappling the ground all around them, bird song in the air. This was a start, he thought unhappily for their suffering. But all bad things must end for good to happen.
The morning brought the three awake and acutely aware how cramped they were. Bones and joints protested. Once they had unfolded themselves and stretched outdoors in the quiet dawn, there was an awkward quiet.
Finally, Bucky spoke softly, "I've gotta go."
"I know." Steve answered, equally quiet.
"You know if you need us, we'll be here." Sam reinforced.
"I appreciate that." Barnes affirmed, his voice humble.
"Ok, Buck. Don't do anything stupid until you get back." Steve quoted his friend, a glimmer of hope and friendship in his eye.
"How can I, you're taking all the stupid with you." Barnes replied a shadow of a smile on his face.
Sam nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.
With a back clapping hug, Steve let Bucky go. Barnes shook Falcon's hand with a light nod of thanks. The two Avengers watched the former Winter Soldier move off down the hill to his destination in Romania to find his book.
When neither man could see him, Steve trembled slightly.
"He'll be ok, Steve. He'll be back too." Sam steadied.
"I know." Rogers replied "I just miss him already."
"I think we both do." Sam commented, "But this isn't getting his name cleared or Tony under control, is it?"
"Avengers, assemble?" Steve responded.
"Yeah. Something like that." Sam punched him lightly in the shoulder, "Let's go."
A/N- This was really difficult to write. In the movies, the actors are SO EXPRESSIVE it's hard to put those feelings into words. Not sure the English language has enough adjective and adverbs for facial expressions. And, how do you write dudes having feelings when stereotypically the aren't allowed (although that is changing and that is a GOOD thing). I didn't want this to be a sob fest but I wanted to have all the feelings I feel when I watch the film. Plus, Bucky couldn't stay. I already strayed too far from cannon than I typically like, although this set of chapters started months before CA:CW was even released and all Marvel was feeding us was scraps. So, Bucky leaves, just not frozen.
Thank you for coming on this ride with me. I hope I have entertained you all. 8belles