Bucky had to take a minute, leaving the scene for a moment. Zemo just having the ability to get under his skin.
It was a lot having to face his past like that. He paced the hallway, stress only building.
He could see them all, the faces of those whose lives he had mercilessly brought to a close.
Everything came fruition, emotions overwhelming.
His metal fist suddenly slammed through the wall.
Bucky breathed heavily; panic having had a hold of him.
"You good?" Came the familiar voice of Sam. He stood at the other end of the corridor, offering a sympathetic expression.
"Yeah." Bucky pulled his arm from the wall, dust and drywall crumbling from the newly formed hole.
"You know, it's ok to not be alright." Sam obviously didn't believe him, what he was seeing painting a completely different picture to what Bucky was telling him.
"I don't even know what alright is anymore." There was a crack in Bucky's voice, an honesty, a break in his defensives.
"I've heard soldiers say that too many times before." Sam waved a finger at Bucky.
The over hundred-year-old man sat down, there a bench ottoman situated in the hallway, seat quilted with an expensive dyed leather.
He brushed his arm off, the flakes of wall forced from the divots in the cybernetic arm.
"For years I've just gone from one fight to the next." Bucky rested his head on his hand, fingers massaging his brow.
Sam slowly took a seat beside him.
"Normality isn't something that people can define for you." Sam explained. "It's not that easy." Sam's serious and sincere nature was a stark difference from his usual self.
"I noticed." Bucky sighed. Taking his head back from his hand, he put his back to the wall.
The conversation grew still briefly, allowing thoughts to settle.
"I thought I was done fighting." Sam recalled. "Then I had Captain America knock at my door." The memory put a smile on his face.
"Do you regret it?"
"No." Not a speck of hesitation. "Because I realised, that my normal, that my purpose is to help people."
Bucky took a slow breath through his nose, thinking deeply.
"So, you're telling me I should keep fighting? Be the soldier?"
Sam clasped Bucky's shoulder, using him as leverage to push himself to his feet, making Bucky's eyes follow him in anticipation for the answer.
"I'm not telling you anything. For the first time in a long time, you have the choice." Sam walked back the way he had come. "Don't waste it." He added before turning the corner.
Sam sat watching the green blinking cursor on the black screen, message he sent to Sharon staring back at him. He had simply requested for information, the location of the new Captain America.
Now he was just waiting.
Fiddling with his tech helped the time go by, the jet to his wings having needed repairs from their previous bout with Walker.
The next thing Sam knew the sun was creeping through the stained-glass windows, the morning having fully established its presence.
Shifting noises behind him made Sam look over his shoulder.
His two companions were asleep on the couch, having conceded to the long day.
Zemo lay where he had left him, legs up. Having dozed off in his own home quite happily.
Bucky was sat back, arms crossed in front of himself eyes closed. He was asleep, but his face showed it wasn't pleasant.
Sam's mind wondered over to the accusations Walker made against him the day before, causing him to judge his own decision to push to reason with Karli. If his choices were directly responsible for the death of Walker's partner.
This provoked the memory of his late wingman Riley.
He couldn't do anything, he was helpless, having to watch his partner get shot from the sky.
Now Walker has experienced the same thing. A vicious cycle was forming of loss and grief.
Sam shook his head, not enjoying the thought.
No one was walking out of this situation happy. But at least Sam could strive for them to walk out alive.
He was just finishing up his repairs, assembling the final pieces when the screen in front of Sam caught his attention.
The screen had moved, green text moving up, an answer having been delivered.
His eyes darted from left to right, reading the response.
Sam pushed the stool out from under him, taking the short walk over to the others.
"We've got a location." Sam loudly announced to rouse the men.
Zemo came too slightly startled, he found his composure easily.
Bucky wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. Those steal blue eyes conveying a fear and uncertainty that Sam had never seen from him before. It was brief enough that Sam couldn't get a second look.
"Warehouse, not far from here." Sam told them.
The sun now having returned to the sky outside, the lights in the house had served their use. However, they remained on, adding little to the already vibrant environment.
"Karli?" Zemo sat himself up, having trouble fully coming round from his slumber.
"Don't know." Sam was honest.
He walked back to the counter, retrieving his falcon wings.
Attaching them added weight to his back, comforting in a way to know his wings were again at his disposals.
Bucky stood, seeming to be faring well with his injured side. The brief rest having done him good. His breathing even having improved exponentially.
He rolled his shoulders, moving up beside Sam.
"Plan?" Bucky asked him, taking up his blue jacket from the counter. Bullet holes still present, blood still smeared on the fabric.
"We talk." Sam pulled his goggles over his brown eyes, red visor giving them a tint.
"What if things move past talking?" Bucky inquired, tugging on his jacket, still being thoughtful of his wounds.
"Then we didn't do the talking part right."
"Words will only get us so far; action will have to be taken." Zemo commented. Standing he stretched his neck, not having the most comfortable sleep.
"That's rich. All you do is seem to run your mouth." Sam uttered.
"He's going to be irrational." Bucky explained.
"We're not looking for a fight."
"He is." Zemo pulled his coat on. Arms slipping through his sleeves.
"Is it a good idea to bring him along?" Bucky made the point, looking over his shoulder at the troublesome man.
"We can't leave him here. He's coming."
Bucky nodded understanding Sam's reasoning.
The warehouse was in disrepair and clearly abandoned. Steal rusted, gloomy veiled sky above not doing the structure any favours.
A few guls cawed nearby, wind absent but a chill was still in the air.
There was no one around, or no sign of any one at least.
Sam stopped his approach making the others follow his lead. They stood beside him waiting for instruction.
"I'll go in alone." Sam told them, getting an immediate disapproving glare from Bucky.
"Not this time, not if Walker is in there." Bucky was shaking his head, not agreeing at all with Sam. "He's a super soldier now Sam. We saw what he's quite capable of."
"Look you were right, bringing Zemo in won't help the situation, I need you to watch him." Sam gestured at the man.
"It's not happening."
"If I may…" Zemo spoke up. "If you recall, I was the one that came looking for the two of you. Why would I run now?"
"He's got a point." Bucky backed the man, even if it were only to get his own way.
Sam looked around, hands on his hips, having to decide.
"Fine." Sam conceded, not seeing a world where he wins this conversation. "Give us ten minutes, then come in and find us." Sam instructed.
Zemo accepted these conditions a bit to easily, something not sitting right with Sam.
"You ready for this?" Bucky looked over at the building, something foreboding about the crippled structure.
"Are you?" Sam offered the question back.
With a confident gaze Bucky nodded.
Together the two of them proceeded forward, leaving Zemo behind they entered the warehouse to face Walker.
Authors Notes
Well that's it folks. I think this last chapter was rather weak, but I wanted to leave this story where I think episode five will start. So there was not a lot of wiggle room XD I did my best. I loved writing this story, and hopefully episode five will give me inspiration to write another post-episode fanfic!
All the support has been amazing and thank you for following me on this lovely little journey. Hopefully see you soon for more Sam and Bucky stories!