Ahem... I know I'm supposed to have a LotR story to finish, but... Well let's say my Tolkien inspiration kinda went on vacation lately... A new chapter should come pretty soon, I promise !

Anyway, in the meantime I began writing this little marvel fic about this wonderful duo ! It's pretty angsty but I tried my best to respect the sassy personality of Sam and Bucky !

I hope you'll like it !

They should have seen it coming.

Oh yes, they should have.

Wait, no, actually, Sam should have seen it coming.

Steve had given him that shield for a reason, right ?

Yeah well... Maybe he should have seen it coming as well...

It was all too obvious ! Why would the new leader of the Flag Smashers movement ask them to come and meet alone simply to talk ?

Any sensible person would have refused, or brought some backup, just in case.

Apparently Sam and Bucky weren't very sensible people.

No, actually Sam was rather sensible, but he was an idealist. A stubborn one, on top of that.

And Bucky... Well Bucky had followed him, stupidly, thoughtlessly, as usual, but for logical reasons. Firstly, he perfectly knew Sam would have gotten to that meeting, with or without him, and Bucky seriously didn't want to bear his death on his conscience (and he would probably miss the guy, if this came to happen). Secondly, the younger man had almost managed to talk some sense into Karli's mind the last time they had spoken (before Walker ungraciously interrupted them), so Bucky believed there could be a chance (no matter how thin it was) that Sam would manage to reason this new guy.

But apparently the guy... Wait, what had Torres said his name was again ? Ah yes, Guy Thierrault had the exact same thick headed and kinda murderous personality as his predecessor.

And now here they were, hands and feet bound to a pillar in two different corners of a wide and completely empty room. Oh, they had put up quite a fight, but it rapidly turned out that an idealist with a shield and wings and a 106 years old supersoldier were no match against a dozen young, well-prepared and angry flag smashers.

Bucky remembered having been knocked out first by a vicious and powerful blow to the neck, which would have probably made it snap if he had been a "regular" man. Gosh, he could already imagine how Sam would tease him about this for at least another hundred years... That is, if they made it out alive, of course.

Feeling a pair of eyes fixed on him, Bucky slowly turned his head around, wincing as his aching neck protested, to meet the worried face of Sam, looking right into his eyes, as if trying to read his co-worker's thoughts.

"And I thought I was the guy with a staring problem..." the soldier spoke in an attempt to ease the atmosphere and get the man to focus on something else than his state. He simply hated when people were worrying about him, it made him feel uncomfortable. He didn't deserve the attention. Especially when said worried guy looked probably worse than him.

And Sam definitely didn't look too good. He bore a nasty bruise on his right cheek and eye, a splitted lip and some blood was still dripping from an open gash on his left temple. Bucky had no doubt the man had fought bravely and tirelessly before his body had finally forced him to give up, much like Steve would have.

"Are you alright ?" the younger man asked in a serious voice.

"Yeah I'm good. You ?" he answered.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"You don't look good either."

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

Bucky's lips involuntarily curved into a slight smile as he felt the Sam he knew coming back. Jeez, being actually serious and concerned about him didn't suit him at all. He seriously preferred the teasing and... Almost comforting side of him

"What did I miss ?" the older man asked, even though he could already guess the answer.

"Nothing. Nobody has shown up yet."

"Great," he answered in a sigh. A brief moment of silence followed, only interrupted by the two men's heavy breaths.

"Who knows what they want with us..." Sam finally broke the uneasy emptiness that filled the room.

"To get us out of their way ?" Bucky retorted in a seemingly detached and annoyed tone, as if the answer was obvious. Although, he could feel something was amiss...

"If that was really what they wanted, they would have killed us already," the younger man replied, voicing his co-worker's worries, "There is something more to this... If only I-"

"No, stop," Bucky abruptly cut off, knowing Sam was about to blame everything on himself and apologise for something he was definitely not the cause of.

"Seriously, I-"

"Don't."

That was something Steve and Sam had in common (among others) : they blamed all the miseries of the world on themselves. Always.

Damn you, Steve Rogers. I finally get rid of you punk to end up with your soul twin. Is this some kind of conspiracy ? Bucky mentally teased his old friend, a part of him hoping he could hear him, and the other wishing he was still here. They would have made some hell of a trio, that's for sure !

Just as he was thinking this, the door on Sam's left slammed open and four Flag Smashers came in, lead by the now unmistakable hard features of Guy Thierrault. He came to stand right in front of Bucky while his three acolytes gagged Sam and untied him from the pole. The man tried to fight them off, but he was obviously in pain and exhausted by their previous encounter with the super soldiers. Yet even though his efforts were vain, he kept trying.

"Get off him !" yelled his co-worker, struggling hopelessly against his own restraints.

Bucky could do nothing but watch as Sam was dragged on the floor, still kicking and shouting under his gag, to an open window before the Smashers put his head and shoulders through it, hanging in the air five meters above the ground.

"No please !" yelled the soldier with all the strengths he had left, as he thought for a second they were about to drop his friend without further ceremony.

Hopefully (if we could say that) they did not, for they still kept a firm grip on Captain America's legs and arms.

"Oh, don't worry," Thierrault finally spoke with his Canadian accent, taking a step forward to where Bucky was still tied, and looking straight into his eyes, "He'll be brought back safely on the ground if you react properly."

If you react properly ? What is that supposed to mean ?

"What do I have to do ?" the soldier asked in a bitter voice, doing his best to hide the worry he felt for his partner. This sentence felt so painfully familiar to utter...

"You don't have to do anything, your mind should do everything by itself. However, if it doesn't... I guess we'll see if our new Cap can still fly without his wings."

He shifted his gaze to Sam still hanging through the window in a very meaningful way.

"I'm very sorry Mr Barnes, I wish there was another way, but you have given us no choice."

Bucky suddenly felt a cold chill running down his spine. He didn't like that. Not at all.

Heavy drips of sweat began to roll from his forehead down his cheeks as Thierrault took out his phone from his pocket.

His fists clenched as he unlocked it.

And all of a sudden, his entire self crumbled as he began reading :

"Желание," Longing.

A few weeks earlier

"What do we do now that Karli and the others have been killed ?"

"I don't know, okay ? I don't know !" Thierrault yelled in a much more aggressive way than he had wanted to. He put his head in his hands. Everything had happened so fast ! First this Zemo guy smashing all of the serum Karli and the others had managed to get, then this... This plan... This attack... This... Tragic failure.

Gosh, he didn't even have the strengths to think about... What had happened... They had been so close to success... So close, but also so far.

They had lost the serum and their most important members, including their leader... Their friends. Yet he had no time to let himself being brought down by those events. They had come this far, they could not go back. He had to continue where Karli had been stopped. Her legacy and memory needed to persevere. The mantle needed to pass, and he was willing to take it.

But they were too few to carry on the fight for long. They needed more people. And they needed revenge against those who had tried to silence them.

"We need to get rid off the Power Broker," the young man voiced his thoughts.

"And how do we do that, hmm ?" retorted Charles, his younger brother, "Go to Madripoor and knock on her door ? Guy, Karli is gone, lots of us are dead, the movement barely exists anymore. How the hell do you want us to fight her and her acolytes ?"

"I DON'T KNOW !"

All of his companions took a step back in surprise at his sudden burst of anger. Even Thierrault himself looked mildly surprised at how quickly his emotions had overcome him... Man, everything was just happening too fast and suddenly.

It was just too much. He needed a break he could not afford taking, just some time to gather his thoughts and strengths. There were so many responsibilities suddenly falling on his shoulders. He had his teammates's blood to avenge and a fight against entire nations to carry. These used to be Karli's responsibilities, and he would simply follow. He had never had to lead anyone in his life, he simply didn't know what to do and how to do it. Yet it had fallen on him, because he was the eldest of the remaining group, because he knew Karli longer and because he was the only one with enough guts to stand up where his friend had fallen. He just hadn't known it would be this hard... Maybe it was all a mistake...

No, no, it was not. All the politicians around the world who had decided to send the refugees back home had made a mistake. These innocent and abused people needed to fight for their rights, but they also needed a figure to guide them. Thierrault would be this figure, no matter how hard it was. He had to be strong.

"Guy..." Lisa, one of his friends, spoke in a soft, almost hesitant voice, placing her hand on the older man's slumped shoulders, "This Power Broker issue is in the past, alright ? It died with our brothers. We don't have to avenge them, we simply need to carry on their fight. Maybe we-..."

The woman was suddenly cut off by a vibration coming from Thierrault's jacket pocket. The brown haired man took it out, looking rather confused and surprised.

"Anonymous calling..." he whispered.

"Don't answer it !" said Jovan, another Flag Smasher, stretching out his hand in warning.

"Yeah who knows who it might be... We can't take any chances," continued Charles.

"Maybe somebody's tracing the call.

Guy was about to decline it when Djemal suddenly interrupted :

"People need a certain communication time to trace a call properly... Enough time for you to hang up if it's a trap..."

"And what if he doesn't realise it's a trap soon enough ?" asked Jovan in a both hurried and worried voice, "Guy, please-"

But the young man had already accepted the call.

"Hello ?" he asked in the most assured tone possible.

"Guy Thierrault ?" a feminine and distinguished voice asked back.

"Who is this ?"

"My name is Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. I think we need to talk."

English is not my first language and I'm not a perfect writer, so I apologise for the mistakes and always welcome constructive criticism ;)