Chapter 43: Make or Break
Bucky didn't know what the hell had just jumped in front of him, but there was no way it was a fucking human.
And of course this weird not-human cat guy had to kick him in the back of the head, which hurt like a bitch and really pissed him off. He thought he was free, in the clear to run as far away as he could and maybe, maybe, return to Mika someday. But no, this asshole had to interrupt his escape. The strength of his kick was surprising to say the least (though he tried not to think too hard about it), but his tactical suit was nothing like Bucky had ever seen. It definitely wasn't Hydra issued, and it didn't look like something from S.H.I.E.L.D. Claws extended from his fingertips as he stood in front of him in a challenge position, and Bucky had a brief memory of someone else from his past with claws. But that didn't matter right now. What mattered right now was that this guy was in his way. Fine, if everyone wanted a fight today, then he would give them a fight.
The cat man sent his leg out in a kick; the first one was easy to block, but the second one, to his chest, was quick and surprising. Bucky wasn't used to fighting people as quick as he was, and it wasn't something he wanted to get used to. He regained his footing and tried to punch him across the face, but cat man apparently also came with cat-like reflexes and dodged it easily. He also easily blocked Bucky's next two calculated swings at him. With an acrobatic flip that seemed to defy the laws of nature, the cat man slammed a foot across Bucky's face, and followed it up by driving his knee into his stomach. Jesus, this guy could move, and move fast.
Bucky couldn't stop the groan from escaping him as his back hit the concrete wall, but he had no time to feel sorry for himself, as cat man's claws were coming straight for him. He shoved himself to the side, watching as the claws easily sunk into the concrete right where his head had previously smacked against it. Time to go.
He wasn't even able to stand before the man swung his claws out at him, his speed incredible and his accuracy deadly; they made a loud noise as they once again gouged the concrete wall. Bucky had no doubt that if he had his training alone and had not been enhanced by the scientists, he would not survive this fight. Granted, he didn't know why they were having this fight, but that was a question for another time. The cat man cut to the right, using the wall to change his direction swiftly, and Bucky was barely able to put his metal arm up over his face before the claws clashed against it, the force behind them so powerful that he had to use his entire body to stay upright. He still had yet to get completely on his feet, the cat man's attacks relentless and fast. Who the hell was this guy, and why the hell was he here?
The man leapt, tackling Bucky to the ground and forcing half the air from his lungs. He didn't know why he was surprised the guy landed on his feet, but he afforded the thought for a split second before the claws once again flashed in the sunlight over him. There was a rusted piece of metal next to him, and Bucky grabbed it in an effort to stop the attack. The claws sunk easily into it, slicing through it like a hot knife through butter. The pieces were ripped from his fingers and thrown aside, leaving Bucky with nothing but his hands to stop all ten claws from ripping into his head. Up close, they were even sharper than he imagined, the metal shining in the same way his arm did in the sunlight.
Bucky didn't know how they didn't notice the helicopter coming their direction, but it commanded their attention as it came into view and started showering them with bullets. Cat man turned to look at it, the large caliber rounds ricocheting uselessly off his black suit. What the hell was this guy?! And just when Bucky thought he was used to the idea of a man-animal hybrid, another man with wings soared into the picture, tucking into a ball before slamming his legs into the chopper and knocking it into a spiral. The wings sprouted again as he soared away beneath the edge of the wall. So now he had to deal with cat man and bird man? What the fuck was going on?!
The distraction was just enough for Bucky to bring a leg up and send it into the cat man's chest, using enough force to actually send him flying a few feet away. Of course, he rolled onto his feet in a most annoying fashion, but he didn't care. All he needed to get away was a few seconds, and he was finally able to give himself that. He sprung to his feet, pulling on his panic bag and taking off at a dead sprint towards the edge of the building. He may not be able to beat this guy in a fight, but he might be able to take him in a foot race. Bucky had always been speedy, and now with his enhancements, he was nigh uncatchable. Well, he had been at least. Out of all the things Hydra did to him, all the gruelling and horrible missions he'd been on, this was one of the greatest tests of his physiology.
He vaulted over the wall, dropping down to a ledge below and landing with a grace that might be surprising for a man of his size. The Soldier never knew how to land softly, didn't care if he fractured his ankles. But the Man cared, because he had a lot of running left to do today. He looked up, trying to spot his adversary and making quick calculations of the best, fastest escape route. Of course, the man used his claws to slide down the concrete wall, fast approaching Bucky's position. With the man's speed, agility, and balance, the narrow concrete shelf would not be the ideal place to engage him. No, Bucky needed space, and distractions. So, down it was. He didn't even pause to think as he stepped off the concrete, eyeing the area below and bracing himself for impact.
Bucky landed a split second before the other man, and took off running towards the city center. He knew these streets, probably knew them better than anyone else in the city, and he would have to use the knowledge of the landscape if he was going to lose this guy, though he wouldn't be surprised if the guy had some weird super senses that would enable him to track him down. He heard a crash behind them that sounded like metal on concrete, but he did not stop running. If Steve was determined to be included in this mess, so be it. But right now, Bucky's only priority was getting as far away as possible to protect Mika.
The helicopter returned, once again raining shots down on them. That was fine, Bucky had already mapped out seventeen alternate routes he could take for escape. He cut to the left, leaping over a wall and aiming for the dotted lines between car lanes below. His aim was slightly off, but luckily the man in the van had good enough reflexes to swerve around him. The street was busy enough to be congested, but just free enough for the traffic to be moving quickly. Perfect. He took off again, hoping this would be enough to slow down his enemy, but somehow knowing that it would not.
He saw cat man land on the street behind him, and caught a glimpse of Steve as he joined the fray. God, he was just as stubborn as he was in 1943, the dumbass. But he would have to protect himself this time, cause Bucky had a different mission. He used his speed in a way he hadn't in a long time, sprinting alongside cars and passing them, his senses just aware enough of the people behind him to keep track of how close they were. Cat man obviously had enhancements too, ones that might rival or surpass his own. He thought of the Soldier, whose stamina was only limited by his physiology, who would go until his body literally could not take another step. What if that's what this guy had too? He needed to come up with a better, more sustainable plan.
That would have to wait, of course. A car swerved in front of him, and he quickly tried to slow his speed. He could not keep running if he knocked himself unconscious slamming into it. But then the car moved and Bucky saw the fleet of police cars pull up in front of him, their headlights trained on him. He could feel the rubber of his shoes leaving marks on the pavement as he skidded to a near stop, changing his direction and jumping over the divider so he could continue his escape on the opposite side of the road. It was a little more difficult now that the cars were driving against him rather than with him, but he could always vault over them if he needed to. The cars were not his main concern.
Just as he reached the sunlight again, the familiar rumble of a motorcycle reached his ears. Ah, yes. This would do perfectly. He skidded to a stop again, feeling remorse for a fraction of a second before grabbing the handlebar with his metal hand and shoving the driver off with the other. Part of him wanted to apologize, but he had no time for that. The motorcycle tried to fly by him, but the plates of the metal arm clicked into place, pulling it in a wide arc back to his side. The wheels were still spinning as he straddled it, kicking it into gear and punching the throttle. Nearly full gas tank, wide tires that could handle multiple terrains. He couldn't ask for a better getaway vehicle, to be honest.
Of course, it didn't help that Steve just wouldn't stop following him. God dammit. The balance of the car speeding behind him was off, and Bucky had a sneaking suspicion that Steve was not alone. Over the honking and the motors he could hear the wind cutting; bird man must be back in the mix again too. If he wasn't so focused on his escape, Bucky probably would have been very annoyed. He just wanted to live a quiet life, hiding in his little corner of the world with his job and his girl. But no, some asshole had to frame him for a bombing and now Captain America and his animal army were trying to fuck everything up.
He heard someone push off the car, and looked up to see cat man soaring towards him. Bucky caught him easily by the throat, grateful for the strength of the metal arm to keep the motorcycle going straight. The man made a noise as he grabbed him; ah, so the suit could protect him from bullets, but not from strangulation? Interesting. The man kicked off the wall, cartwheeling over the bike and trying to bring it down. Bucky let him go to grab the handle, dropping his left arm to keep the motorcycle from tipping over completely. Sparks flew as the metal of his hand skated over the concrete, and he hoped they were flying into the face of the man trying to slow his departure. A quick glance behind him told him that was not the case, as the guy was still holding onto the bike. No worries, a swift kick to the chest was enough to loose his hold and send him careening back into the traffic behind them. He could still hear the car in pursuit, hear the man with the wings as he followed as well. He'd been avoiding doing anything drastic to impede their progress, but drastic times called for drastic measures. He reached into his bag and pulled out one of the small, sticky grenades, throwing it up onto the overpass as he went under it. He may not be responsible for the bombing in Vienna, but he was definitely responsible for this one.
He didn't see the explosion, but he heard it, as well as the accompanying sound of concrete breaking and rubble collapsing onto the street. He thought he'd made it, thought he was home free, but then a puncture sound echoed behind him and the motorcycle lurched to the side, too fast for him to catch it this time. God dammit. He watched as the ruined bike slid away, the shiny metal coming in and out of vision as he rolled over the road. He could hear someone else rolling behind him, and this time his annoyance did fire through him. He didn't have much time to dwell on it though, because as soon as he stopped rolling, the man was standing over him, claws still gleaming in the sun. Bucky readied himself to catch his wrists again, but was interrupted by a blue Steve shaped blur tackling the man in black. He was able to stand then, stand and see the fleet of police cars screaming in front of him, to the side of him, behind him. Steve was to his left, holding his hand out in front of Bucky as if that would deter him, and the cat man in front of them. His mind began calculating his next escape route, trying to find any plan that didn't involve killing everybody there. He was just considering throwing Steve again when the news chopper floated into view above them, and ultimately he knew then that he would not be getting out of this.
If this was being broadcasted, there was no way for him to hide. If the whole world could see this, then he couldn't enact any of his plans. He was not going to kill anyone to escape, not going to give in to everyone's expectations of him. Well, except for Mika. Mika thought him a good man; no, he couldn't let her see him at his worst, or let her see him get killed. If there was any chance she was watching this, he couldn't just slaughter everyone and escape, or die in the attempt. Even if it meant being locked away forever for his crimes (which, to be fair, he deserved), he was going to present himself as the man she believed him to be.
A heavy metal suit landed in front of them, his hands glowing and emitting a high pitched whine that told of the power they held. One hand was towards Bucky, the other towards the cat man. A machine gun popped out of its shoulder, and trained itself on Steve. Bucky was just wondering if there was a person inside of it, or if it was just a robot, when a very human sounding voice said, "Stand down. Now." There was too much inflection for it to be automated. Great, another super human. Why not.
Steve was still holding his hand out, silently telling Bucky to stay, as if he had any other option at this point. He didn't understand that the probability of escaping alive at this point was less than one percent. He always was so goddamn optimistic. Bucky felt his heart sink into his shoes as Steve put his hand down, taking the shield and locking it into place on his back. Yea, maybe Mika wasn't going to see him kill people, or watch as they shot him down, but she was still going to see them arrest him, see as they cuffed him like the criminal he was and lead him away to face his past.
"Congratulations, Cap. You're a criminal." the metal guy spoke again. If Bucky weren't feeling so trapped and defeated, he might have laughed. Steve always was bordering on a criminal, as long as the shady activities would lead to an outcome for the greater good. After all the shit they pulled during the War...Bucky realized these people didn't understand them at all. Steve's heart was always in the right place, but even Robin Hood was technically lawbreaker.
Bucky let the policeman come up to him, didn't say a word or change his expression as he roughly grabbed his shoulder. He wasn't offended as he kicked the back of his legs, forcing him to his knees, and then shoving him so he was face down on the street. He was stupid to hope this day wouldn't eventually come, but he found his only regret was not spending more time with the girl next door.
The guy in the cat suit finally retracted the claws and pulled off his helmet. Steve looked shocked at the reveal, and the man in the metal suit referred to him as, "Your Highness." Bucky had no idea who he was, and he didn't care. That man was not his problem. Steve was not his problem. The bird man was not his problem. The problem was that he thought he would ever be able to truly escape the prison he'd been in for nearly his entire life. It was good while it lasted, he told himself, though all the optimism and positivity he'd been working to build was slipping out of him like sand in an hourglass, leaving nothing behind but an empty ache in the pit of his stomach.
His wrists were cuffed, a hundred guns trained on his head. Multiple men joined the first one, holding him tightly and dragging him to a van. They put more cuffs on him, attaching him to the walls of the car and putting more men than necessary in there with him, every muzzle of their assault rifles pointed his direction. He didn't bother telling them that he could easily rip out of the handcuffs, or that with so many weapons in such close quarters they were more likely to injure each other than him if they were to open fire. He would go quietly, and leave his girl behind forever. He knew his time was up, but he had one last happy thought that he could hold on to: at least Mika was safe.
Mika, for her part, thought she did very well to only cry for a couple minutes after Bucky left. She'd never been great at following directions, and every fiber of her being was telling her to go out into the hallway, to grab him and bring him back inside and keep him safe. Whatever was going on, they could figure it out. Together.
Of course, then she heard the stampede of boots coming up the stairs, and she paused from crawling out behind the couch and decided maybe, just maybe, she should heed Bucky's words. She let out a scream as she heard the first shots next door, slapping her hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet. She squeezed her eyes shut, flinching every time she heard a slam or a gunshot. She'd never been a particularly religious person, but she found herself suddenly praying very hard that Bucky would be alright, that whoever was getting hit or shot, it wasn't him. A loud thump sounded against her wall, the force of it enough to knock one of her pictures from its perch and shatter the glass front of it. More shots rang out, this time outside in the hallway, and quickly the sounds of the fight moved from the apartment next door to right outside. She heard the sound of bodies being hit, the groans of the men echoing through the slim crack beneath her door. None of them sounded familiar, and there was no sign of Bucky being the one taken down. She could hear the men speaking German, and cursed herself for never learning the language. She stayed behind the couch, though it killed her to do so, because she realized that Bucky was right: she had no place in this fight. If he was going to escape, then he couldn't be distracted by her.
The fight seemed to last forever, but at the same time the silence rang out sooner than she expected. She waited on breath, then two, before starting to crawl out from behind the couch again. She carefully stood up, grateful for her thick winter socks as she silently crept to the door and looked out the peephole. Outside, what seemed like dozens of men in heavy body armor were slowly regaining consciousness and trying to pull themselves up. She knew she should stay inside, but she couldn't wait anymore, forgetting that she was wearing nothing but Bucky's flannel and stepping out into the hallway. She ran to the railing and looked over the edge, but there was no sign of him anywhere. All she could see was men trying to recover from the force of nature that had hit them. She knew, technically, she was supposed to side with the police, but she found herself happy that he at least made it out of the building alright.
One of the men next to her said something to her in German, kicking her fight or flight into overdrive again. Thanks to her training with Bucky, her first instinct was to send a knee to his head. Luckily, she was able to push that down, and instead retreated to her apartment and slammed the door behind her, locking it as if that would do anything to stop the guys with assault rifles. She picked up her phone to call Bucky, but knew it was too soon. He was on the run now, and she should probably wait for him to contact her. She wished she could check on him, and wracked her brain trying to figure out how she could do that. The news? Surely something this big would be a breaking bulletin. She pulled up her laptop, finding a livestream of the local news channel. A pretty woman in a red dress was talking about some African nation that lost its king, and while the story was probably very sad, Mika couldn't find it in herself to care. She held her breath, waiting for any mention of Bucky, or any footage of him. Just when she thought they were clear, the woman in red was interrupted by a man in a helicopter, and Mika watched in horror as the camera panned to the street. There stood Bucky, with Captain America beside him, as well as a couple people she didn't recognize. One was in a suit that looked almost like Iron Man, but she knew that wasn't him. Iron Man wore red, and this guy was in gunmetal grey. The other seemed to have some sort of backpack and goggles on, and she wondered what was in the pack that made him so dangerous. She covered her mouth with her hands as they roughly shoved Bucky to the ground, tears leaking out as they practically chained him up and threw him into a van.
"James Buchanan Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier, has been apprehended by a task force out of Germany. His accomplices, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, were also taken into custody, along with the former prince, now king, of Wakanda, T'Challa, son of T'Chaka. Barnes will be taken back to Berlin, where they will undergo investigation involving the recent bombing of the UN Summit..." the man was telling her what was going on, but Mika had gone numb. They'd caught him. They'd actually caught him, and were going to arrest him for something he didn't do. She knew how it looked, knew what the world saw: a rogue assassin, back in action. But that wasn't who he was, and she needed the world to see it.
Her mind slowed for a second as she tried to figure out what to do next. Bucky was in custody, with no way to contact her. They were taking him away, likely to be imprisoned. But they couldn't just straight imprison him, right? They had to find more evidence than the grainy parking garage video that the news was showing now. He didn't even own a jacket like that, hadn't even been in Vienna the night before. He'd been here, with her.
With renewed determination, Mika opened a new tab on her laptop, typing in the address for the airline she always used to go visit Nicoletta. She forced herself to carefully read the times of the flights in front of her, knowing that if she rushed too much and messed up that it could be detrimental to Bucky's case. She had to get there in a timely manner, tell them that he had an alibi, that she didn't know who was in the video but it sure as hell wasn't her Bucky.
Once she purchased the tickets (not caring that they were twice as expensive as usual due to the late timing), she slammed her laptop shut and walked with a purpose back into the bedroom. She slipped on a bra underneath the flannel and found the first pair of leggings nearby, not caring if they were clean or dirty. She grabbed the carry on weekend bag from the top of her closet and just grabbed a few things from every drawer of her dresser, figuring if she really needed she could buy clothes there. She dialed her sister's number, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she continued to pack.
"Alo, dear sister!" Nicoletta answered brightly, obviously completely unaware of everything that was going on.
"Have you seen the news?" Mika asked, not even ashamed of how her voice wavered with panic. She needed shoes. Where were her shoes?
"No, I haven't." Nicoletta answered, her voice immediately lowered with concern. "Why? What's wrong?"
"It's a long story - actually, I don't know most of it myself." Mika said as her mind ran in circles looking for an explanation. She couldn't split her attention very well right now to give a full answer. And where in the hell were her shoes? "But the short of it is, they've arrested Bucky and are bringing him to Berlin for questioning."
"What?! What are the charges?!" Nicoletta exclaimed, her tone jumping a full octave in her surprise. Mika breathed a sigh of relief, glad that her sister was already on their side. Perhaps they could call her as a character witness, if needed.
"They're claiming he bombed the UN." Mika said, finally giving up on finding her shoes and pulling on a pair of her boots instead. Keys, she needed keys. Where the hell were her keys?!
"He would never!" she squeaked, appalled on his behalf.
"I know, I know he wouldn't. But listen, I'm coming to Germany, my flight leaves in an hour and a half-" Mika was interrupted by a knock at her door. She grew silent, wondering who would be calling on her right now. Was it the police, looking for Bucky? Or worse, were they coming to take her in for questioning as well? Perhaps that would be better, then she could set the story straight without having to put Bucky through traveling that far away from home. "Nicoletta, I'll have to call you back."
"No, Mika, wait-!" Nicoletta tried to keep her on the line, but Mika hung up. Luckily the leather soles of her boots were nearly silent as she slid them across the laminate flooring, though she did jump as whoever was there knocked again. She looked through the peephole, seeing the face of a young man. She recognized him, but couldn't quite place him. All she knew was that he was likely not affiliated with the police.
"Hi, I'm sorry, this isn't a good time." she said, pulling the door open. The young man smiled sheepishly, and looked rather relieved for someone she didn't know.
"Yes, I know." he said cryptically, which immediately put Mika on edge. Apparently her change in demeanor was more obvious than she thought, because he immediately put his hands up in a gesture of peace. He shifted his weight, as if he were struggling standing on one of his legs for too long. "Sorry, Jones called me about an hour ago. Didn't give me any details, just asked me to come make sure you were alright."
Jones. "Oh, right, you used to work with him." Mika said, finally remembering that she'd met the young man before. But her mind was not here in this conversation, it was on the clock as it counted down to her flight time. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't remember your name. But um, yes, I'm okay."
"Is Jones?" he asked, and she could see genuine worry on his face. She opened and closed her mouth a couple times, unsure how to answer. So this kid didn't know anything either. Perhaps the story was not as pervasive as she feared.
"I don't know." she finally said, figuring the truth was better than anything else. "I'm sorry, I really appreciate you stopping by, but like I said, I'm okay and now is a really bad time-"
"How can I help?" he asked, limping a bit closer. Mika started to say that he couldn't, that really she just needed to get to Germany so she could help Bucky, but then she paused.
"Did you drive here?" she asked, and she could tell the question confused him.
"Uh, yes. I did." he answered, not seeing where she was going with this. She nodded, running back into her apartment to grab her overnight bag, laptop, and keys.
"Good. Then you can drive me to the airport." she replied, walking by him and starting down the stairs without a second glance. Normally she would try not to sound so bossy, but now was not the time for her to worry about that. All she could worry about was getting to Bucky.
He'd come to her rescue more than once, and now it was her turn.
Y'all. Civil War is so stressful. Are y'all stressed? I'm stressed.
Thank yo SO SO SO much? For the wonderful reviews! I always love to hear what y'all think and how this story makes you feel. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, cause we all know what happens next.
Please let me know what you thought!
-XM