Один – One

The Raft security guard posted at the entry looked up surprised. Bucky glared at him and gruffly stated that he wanted to see Zemo. The visit wasn't scheduled and the guard was hesitant about allowing Bucky in. After some grumbling and a short conversation on the phone with the higher ups, Bucky was allowed past security and into the area where Zemo was being held.

A look of surprise spread across Zemo's face as he turned to face the approaching footsteps. Bucky stared at him through the glass. He waited until the guard was at the far end of the hall to speak.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I take it the mission is complete," Zemo said. His tone was more of a statement than a question.

"Why are you doing this?" Bucky repeated.

"I am not doing anything. I have been sitting in my cell… reading Machiavelli, if you're curious."

Zemo walked up close to the cell's glass wall. He peered at Bucky, carefully trying observe every slight movement and micro expression. Bucky remained impassive, barely blinking as he stood in front of the other man. Seemingly satisfied, Zemo sat down on the lone chair in his cell. He leaned back and looked at Bucky.

"You are who you are," Zemo said matter-of-factly. "James Barnes. Hydra's Winter Soldier. One coin…two sides."

"You're wrong. I am not a killer," Bucky protested loudly. Instead of being upset, Zemo looked amused.

"You have always been a killer. You were a soldier fighting in a war; you were an assassin assigned a mission," Zemo said. "It is in you. If it wasn't how else would it be so easy?"

"They aren't the same thing," Bucky argued. "I was a soldier fighting for a cause I believed in. I was an assassin because of what they did to me… and what you have done to me."

"What did I do? Say a few words?" Zemo asked and stood up from the chair. Again, he tried to assess the man standing across from him. Despite loud, quarrelsome words, Bucky hadn't moved from the spot he stopped when the guard left. There was a look in his eyes, almost like that of a caged animal that somewhat concerned Zemo.

"If you weren't a killer, how could you be affected so easily after all this time?" Zemo questioned his visitor.

"It's what they did to me."

"Did you ever wonder why they chose you, James? Could it be that they saw in you the same thing I see?"

"They didn't choose me. I survived," Bucky said coldly. He wasn't sure what he had hoped to discover by going to the Raft in the first place and now he knew it was time to leave.

Zemo watched as Bucky walked away. He allowed him a few steps before calling out.

"Желание (zhelaniye)."

"Ржавый (rzhaviy)."

"Семнадцать (semnadtsat)."

Bucky paused. The pain in his head had returned but he was determined not to turn around. Zemo had also noted the hesitation in his steps and continued calling out.

"Рассвет (Rasvet)."

Bucky bit his lip and with a shake of his head in hopes of ending the sharp ache, he resumed walking towards the guard station.

Back in his dimly lit apartment, Bucky finally allowed himself to relax. The throbbing in his head had finally subsided. He looked around and silently wished that he had thought to eat something more than the bag of corn puffs he had picked up at the small store on his way home. Bucky opened the refrigerator and reached for a bottle of water. Before his hand touched the container, he changed his mind and grabbed the bottle of beer right next to it.

Bucky sat down at the table with the open bottle and pulled out his phone. After looking at the screen for a second or two, he pushed it away and put his full attention on the beer. As he emptied the bottle, Bucky wondered if what Zemo had said was true… that he was chosen and somehow destined to this. He groaned.

"No," he said aloud. Even though he spoke in a normal tone in the absolute silence of the room, his voice sounded thunderous to his ears.

His phone rang, again interrupting the quiet. Bucky looked at it momentarily and pushed it further away. The device sounded for a bit before going silent. Less than a minute later, it began to ring again. The number was familiar to him now and he deliberately didn't answer. The phone went silent.

Bucky sat for hours, just staring at the wall in front of him. Periodically his phone would ring. He had become so used to the sound that he didn't even look at it. When he finally did move, it was to get the last beer from the refrigerator. As he stood drinking it, Bucky picked up the phone. He ignored the missed call alerts and skipped by the unread text messages. He had a plan now and he hoped that if he could remain focused, he'd be able to carry it out.

After a quick internet search, Bucky took a shower, dressed, and packed a bag with the few items he had with him. He looked at the time. There was still a few hours and he decided to go out and get something substantial to eat. As he walked out the door of the apartment, his phone rang again. This time he answered.