Chapter 88: Gandalf

Bucky weaved through the hangar. He didn't bother trying to hide - that would require climbing into the rafters and he didn't have time for that - but he didn't stop to make small talk to anyone. He walked as if he was supposed to be there, as if he was on a mission. That was a lesson he learned long before Hydra: walk like you belong, and most of the time no one will question it. He spotted Sam striding on the second floor catwalk and turn onto the metal steps.

"You shouldn't have given up the shield." he called, meeting him at the bottom. Sure, Mika would be mad that he didn't start with something like hello, but that was a problem for later.

"Nice to see you too, Buck." Sam said, not stopping for conversation. Bucky gritted his teeth and fell into step next to him.

"This is wrong." he said, lowering his voice. He didn't need more attention on them. This wasn't anyone else's business except his and Sam's.

"Hey, hey, look, I'm working, alright? So all this outrage is gonna have to wait." Sam snapped. His defensiveness made Bucky feel defensive, which was not a feeling that he responded well to.

"You didn't know that was gonna happen?" he countered, because it seemed like the next logical step to him. If Sam didn't want the shield, pass it along to the next guy. He had all this military intel, someone would've said something.

"No, of course I didn't know that was gonna happen." Sam said, and Bucky realized Sam wasn't mad at him, but mad at the people that lied to him. Lied to all of them. "You think it didn't break my heart to see them march him out there and call him the new Captain America?"

"This isn't what Steve wanted." Bucky said. There was no way they could just do this without consulting him, even if Sam chose to give the shield to the museum. But, Steve wasn't Captain America anymore. He was just another guy from Brooklyn again. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Oh, my God." he groaned. "What do you want me to do? Call America and tell 'em I changed my mind? Huh? Yea, right. It's been a great reunion, buddy. Be well, tell Mika I said hi-"

"You had no right to give up the shield, Sam." Bucky said. Finally, he'd arrived at his main point. The shield wasn't just Sam's, it was all of theirs. Steve had wielded it first, yes, but it had saved Bucky more times than he could count, and all the other Avengers too. Hell, it saved the whole world. And Sam wanted to just throw it away.

"Okay, this is not what you're gonna do." Sam finally turned to face him, his voice low and simmering with anger. He even got up in Bucky's face, not that Bucky backed down. Let Sam take a swing at him. See what happened. "You're not gonna come here in your overextended life and tell me about my rights. It's over Bucky. Besides, I have bigger things to deal with now."

"What could be bigger than this?" Bucky asked. It felt like Sam shoved a knife between his ribs. This was his life, Steve's legacy, everything that kept Bucky going for the entire time he was stuck as the Winter Soldier. Steve and his shield were the only reason he was free now. Couldn't he see that?

Sam pulled his phone out and showed the picture of a tough guy in a mask. Bucky wanted to snort, but kept it in.

"This guy." Sam said. "He has connections with rebel organizations all over Eastern and Central Europe, and he's strong. Too strong."

"And?" Most anyone was too strong to a soldier that wasn't enhanced. And criminals ran with each other, that was how crime syndicates worked. It didn't seem anything out of the ordinary.

"Well, he's been connected to this online group called the Flag Smashers. Mika didn't tell you this?"

Bucky thought to the night before and cleared his throat.

"No, uh, she didn't." he said. They were a little…busy, the night before.

"Well she got me some info, and Redwing traced them to a building somewhere outside of Munich. So that's where I'm going."

"Well I don't trust Red Wing, hold on a minute-" Bucky said, but Sam was having none of it.

"You don't have to trust Red Wing. But I'ma go see if he's right." He spoke with authority, almost like he'd kept the shield instead of giving it to the Smithsonian and, by association, this new fake Captain America. "I have a feeling they might be a part of the big three."

Oh, God. What had he missed?

Too strong, Sam said. Like Steve. Like Bucky.

Like the soldiers in Siberia.

"What big three?" he asked lowly. Hydra, Red Room, Weapon X? Those were three he could name off the top of his head, let alone if he actually dug into his brain for some other shadow organizations. Sure, he'd toppled a few of them, but that didn't mean they were gone forever. Chop of one head, two replace it.

"The Big Three."

"What Big Three?"

"Androids, aliens, and wizards."

Well, at least he sounded completely serious when he said it.

"That's not a thing." Bucky said. He couldn't wait to tell Mika that Sam was off chasing around clown acts.

"That's definitely a thing." Sam said, shaking his head.

"No, it's not."

"Every time we fight, we fight one of the three."

"So who're we fighting now, Gandalf?" Bucky asked, because it was the most ludicrous thing he could think of.

"It - how do you know about Gandalf?" Sam looked at him like he was suspicious, which was fair, if Bucky was honest.

"I read The Hobbit." he said. He still hadn't had a chance to read the trilogy, dammit. "In 1937. When first it came out."

Mika called him the original fanboy when he shared that fact, but he kept that detail to himself.

"So you see my point!"

"No, I don't." he insisted. "There are no wizards."

"Dr. Strange."

"Is a sorcerer." He and Mika had this fight already. He still had the tally list in his journal.

"Ah ah ah ah!" Sam said, chastising him and enjoying it. "A sorcerer is just a wizard without a hat."

Bucky was beginning to regret coming.

"Think about it." Sam continued. "I'm right. I am, I'm right. I just came up with it. It's crazy. But - ah - that's not the point." He was finally getting back on track. "These guys aren't magical, alright, they use brute force, just like you, the incredibly annoying guy in front of me with the staring problem."

He tried to leave. Bold move.

"I'm coming with you." Bucky said, following after him. Because if Sam was going to go get in a fight with a bunch of super soldiers - and they had to be, they just had to be, though Bucky couldn't prove it yet - then he needed a super soldier on his side.

"No, you're not!" Sam called back, as if he had a choice in the matter.

Bucky went with him.

The guys manning the plane really thought for a second that they would be able to stop Bucky from joining him, but one sharp look sent them scurrying back to their jobs. Bucky wouldn't say that he was happy about his past as the Winter Soldier, but every once in a while the reputation helped. It wasn't worth the nightmares or the PTSD, but he had to take what he could get.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked. He sounded put out. Rude, Bucky was just trying to help.

"Right now, I'm texting my wife to let her know that I will be late for dinner." he said, making a grand show of pulling out his phone and sitting down on one of the uncomfortable cargo seats. "Oh, and I'm coming with you."

"You don't have to come with me."

"Someone has to make sure you don't die fighting someone out of your league." Bucky said, doing as he said he would do and sending a text to Mika. Then, to avoid the trouble he knew he was in, he turned his phone off and put it back in his pocket.

"You do realize I have the best exit strategy out of everyone, right? Including you?" Sam said. He flapped his arms like his wings. He had a point, but Bucky wasn't going to give it to him. He simply sat back in the chair and made himself comfortable. Sam crossed his arms, annoyed.

Sam thought he had a staring problem? That was fine. He'd spent seventy years staring at people, he could do it for a couple more hours. Unfortunately, Sam had spite on his side, which meant that he held Bucky's stare, only breaking it to talk to the kid helping them out.

"Hey, you're uh, Bucky, right?" the kid asked. Torres, his name patch said. Soldiers didn't even get pins anymore, just velcro patches to switch between uniforms. Bucky didn't look away from Sam.

"Yea." Bucky said. He was not here to make friends. He was here to help Sam, and then figure out a plan to get the shield back. The first part was regrettable, but he wasn't going to let him get out of it for some silly thing like a mission.

"I've been talking to your wife-"

"What." Bucky broke his stare then, turning to the guy. He looked to be somewhere in his twenties, though Bucky never could tell. Everyone looked painfully young to him. Torres blanched at the look and stumbled over his words.

"No, I mean, not like - she's been helping me, and - I just - we're not - I'm not - she's just kind of a wizard with a computer, you know?" The poor kid looked ready to melt into a puddle, but Bucky couldn't turn off the face now that it was on.

"A wizard, you say?" Sam said with a raised eyebrow. Bucky kept his eyes on Torres a second longer, then went back to glaring at Sam, which was apparently his new hobby. Dr. Raynor would be so proud.

"I'll pass the compliment along." he said. Torres took that as a sign of dismissal - thank God - and went back to the control room of the plane.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Sam said.

"Old news." Bucky replied.

They were silent after that as the plane traveled over the ocean. Bucky was sure he was breaking a few laws or parts of his probation, but it was too late now. Besides, he had a good reason. At least, he thought it was good.

A few hours later, Torres came down from the controls. He gave Bucky a wide berth and instead went to Sam.

"One minute to drop off, Sam." he said, going to the back of the plane to open the door. Sam made a move like he was going to get up and Bucky followed, but instead Sam sat back down. Bucky paused, annoyance flaring in his chest at the other man, and returned to his seat. When the back door creaked open, Sam hopped up like nothing happened and went to get his gear. Bucky had no gear to grab from the pile, but he did see a case of comm links. That could be important. He grabbed one.

"So what's our plan?" Bucky asked. It occurred to him that drop off was probably literal. Sam had the wings, which would help a lot. Bucky had nothing. The last time he'd been dropped off he was brainwashed not to feel pain. This time, he was going to feel every bit of the landing.

Shit.

Sam said nothing, only put in a comm earbud. Bucky sighed and sat back down.

"Great, so no plan." he said. He was too old for this, he was really too old for this, but he couldn't just walk away now. Then Sam would win.

"Thirty seconds!" Torres called.

"Enjoy your ride, Buck." Sam said, as if he'd just taken this time as a joy ride in an Army plane.

"No, you can't call me that." he said. It brought back too many memories, some of his oldest. It felt fine when Steve said it, but it felt weird coming from anyone else.

"Why not? It's what Steve calls you." Sam said, completely missing that that was the point.

"Steve knew me longer." Bucky said. When he heard how playground-foolish that sounded, he added, "And Steve had a plan."

That was a lie, but how would Sam know that? His grandfather was barely alive during WWII, and all their heroics as the "Howling Commandos" were romanticized. Sure, they took down a bunch of Hydra bunkers and saved prisoners, but the museums and teachers conveniently left out that meant killing hundreds, if not thousands of people. They did some fucked up shit, and that gave him a bit of perspective on what was important.

"Fifteen seconds to drop!" Torres was really trying to interrupt this conversation, but Bucky wouldn't let him.

"I have a plan." Sam said petulantly, sending a glare towards Bucky before turning and going towards the door.

"Really? What is it?" Bucky asked. He stood up, and noticed all to easily that the plane had not dropped in altitude for this drop off. Fuck, this was going to hurt so bad.

Sam put on his goggles. Some of those would be nice about now. He didn't answer, instead just taking one casual step out of the plane and into the empty space below.

Jack ass.

"Great." he said. He looked around the space for the backpack, but it was in none of the usual spots. "Where's the chute?"

"We're at two hundred feet, it's too low for a chute."

Of course. "Whatever, I don't need it anyway." Bucky said. Another lie, but what was Torres gonna do, tell Mika?

Probably.

That was a problem for another time.

"You sure about that?" Torres asked. Seemed Sam was training him to be an asshole too.

"Yea." Bucky breathed. If he was going to survive this, he would need to use his metal arm. He tried not to think too much about losing his limb the first time, instead just tearing off the sleeve and jumping before he could second guess. The wind tore a yell from his throat unbidden, the sound changing to grunts and curses as he hit the trees. He scrambled for purchase, but he was falling too fast, his hand unable to grasp any of the branches he hit. The leaves, normally so gentle, turned to razor blades as he fell at terminal velocity through their gauntlet.

The ground, though painfully hard, was a welcome relief to the fall.

"I have all of that on camera. You know that, right?" Sam's voice was loud and clear on the comm. Bucky wanted to tell him to shut up, but he was still working on getting air back into his lungs. Red Wing swooped in and hovered above him, and Bucky could swear the little demon machine was mocking him.

"Get out of my face, Sam, or I'll break it." Bucky promised. This was not what he planned to do today. Now, after all this, he wondered if he should have stayed home and waited for Sam to get back.

Nope. They were on their quest now. There and back again, just like the Hobbit.

He really needed to buy the other three books.

"Okay, head north, come on." Sam said. Bucky groaned and pushed to his feet, the stupid bird machine mocking him the whole time.

Red Wing led him a few kilometers north to an old, run down building on the edge of a ghost town. This was the location of the Flag Smashers? Or was this just the location of that tank of a guy? Bucky didn't know, and didn't care. Now it was about getting the recon Sam needed so they could get back to the states and take care of this New Captain America problem.

Someone tried to burn down this building, and most of the buildings around it. The smell of smoke burned the back of Bucky's throat, but not in the pleasant way that cigarettes used to. This smoke smelled like death and secrets. He met up with Sam and looked past him, trying to gather as much information as possible. He hated how easy it was for him to slip into those old habits. It would scare him more if Mika hadn't proven that the words didn't work anymore.

"You're doing the staring thing again." Sam teased. Bucky glared back. Now was not the time for jokes. They were behind enemy lines, he had none of his usual weapons, no backup, little to no recon-

Fuck. He was thinking like the Soldier again. Fuck.

"They're in there." Sam said, serious now. He kept his eyes on his forearm pad, seeing what Red Wing saw. Two men (neither of them Tank) moved boxes way too big for them to move by themselves. A pile of supplies. Big trucks, filled with God knew what.

"Where's the guy?" Bucky asked.

"Don't know." Sam admitted. "I think they're smuggling weapons though."

"Well I think you could be right." Weapons were usually a safe bet. Bucky had met a lot of weapons smugglers over the years, none of whom could handle their merchandise very well.

"Hmm." Sam clearly did not appreciate the attitude. The feeling was mutual.

"But there's only one way to find out." Bucky said. He didn't want to have to be in this part of his mind any longer than necessary. If Sam didn't have a plan, then he was free to do whatever he wanted. He had ninety years of wartime experience; Sam the Greenie could try and keep up. "I see a clear path, I say we take it."

"Whoa, we're not assassins." Sam put a hand on Bucky's chest, stopping his progression. The comment stung more than Bucky wanted to admit. He knew they weren't assassins. He knew they were here for information. But what Sam didn't realize - what no one seemed to realize - was that it always, always came down to a fight.

"I'll see you inside. Or not." he said. He wasn't going to explain his demons to Sam.

"Hey, come on, man, I'm just messing with you. Come back." Though Sam's tone was light, Bucky ignored him. Part of him wasn't just messing, and both of them knew that. Everyone knew that. The only person he really trusted not to judge him for his past was Mika, and even then he woke up every morning wondering what he'd done right to deserve that trust.

Mika. He was going to be in so much trouble when he got home.

He found the easy, shadowy path through the building, his boots silent on the wet concrete floor.

"Look at you, all stealthy." Sam's voice came through the comms. Dammit, he forgot about those. "A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther."

"It's actually White Wolf." Bucky said.

"Huh?"

Bucky made it to the main room, shelves and boxes forming easy coverage for him. He didn't bother responding, cause the acoustics of this room would carry his voice. Even the comms were loud enough that he worried about that. The men finished loading the trucks, going to the drivers' side doors and kicking the engines to life. This was it, they were leaving with whatever merchandise they had inside.

He took a breath. This was a bad idea. This was such a bad idea.

He started running.

—

If Mika really thought about it, she would assume that she would be the one calling from jail at some point in the relationship.

I'll be back later, he said. I just need to talk to Sam, he said. And now she was getting a call from somewhere in Baltimore, and a recording asked if she would be willing to accept the collect charges from some penitentiary.

"What happened?" she asked. Her heart was in her throat; she knew Bucky couldn't - wouldn't - have done anything to warrant going to jail. And if he did, he had a good reason for it. And he wouldn't get caught.

"It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." he said. "Sam and I were talking outside, and these officers stopped and asked me if I was okay."

"That's stupid." she said. "Don't they know who you are? Both of you?"

"They got there eventually but, uh," he let the seconds drag, then let out a sigh. "I forgot I was supposed to go to a session today."

"You're arrested because you missed your therapy session?" she asked, anger welling in her chest.

"Yea."

"You missed your session for therapy for your PTSD and they arrested you for it?" she clarified.

"So it would seem."

"That's stupid! How can they do that? Is Sam there? Let me talk to him." Mika said. She was off the couch in an instant, her shoulder holding her phone to her ear while she pulled on her shoes. She clipped her thumb against the ankle bracelet and let out a few choice words.

"Sam's outside, they took me in here alone. He's calling Steve to get it all situated." Bucky said.

"Well, Steve is going to get a call from me too." she said. Bra. She needed a bra. Digging through her drawer was too difficult with the phone, so she put Bucky on speaker. "Where are you exactly? I'm coming to get you."

"Mika, you can't."

"Like hell I can't!" she said. She finally found a strapless bra and slid it on under her shirt, ignoring the fact that it probably would have been faster to just remove her shirt and apply whatever bra was on top. "I'm allowed to break house arrest for emergencies. I think my husband getting arrested counts as an emergency."

"I'm fine, Mika, really-"

"No, I'm coming to get you." she said. She didn't want to admit to him that she was scared, that she could feel in her bones that this was more than just a misunderstanding. She couldn't just sit around and wait for him to get out and get back. A Lyft driver would be here in two minutes. "Now, where are you?"

He sighed and told her the name of the jail. Mika made sure to tell him she loved him before hanging up and absolutely storming downstairs. It felt super weird to be out of her apartment for the first time in ten weeks, but she pushed the anxiety aside. By the time she made it to the street level, the car was waiting for her, and she was very glad that she didn't have to drive while in this state. The bracelet on her right ankle started buzzing as soon as the car pulled away, but all she did was find a way to sit so the driver couldn't hear it.

Traffic seemed to be even worse than usual, and while she tried not to be annoying, she could tell her Lyft driver was getting fed up with her foot shaking and her passive aggressive sighs. It was bad enough to worry about Bucky when they were in their own private bubble, but now following the Blip and the Accords and the continuous stream of data mining and dumping, she had to worry about the rest of the world.

Maybe Bucky had it right. Maybe they should just go back to Wakanda.

Five hundred years later they finally pulled into the parking lot of a sad looking building. She tumbled out of the car, throwing a "thank you!" over her shoulder and making sure to tip the guy thirty percent. The automatic doors were too slow, forcing her to turn sideways and suck in to avoid hitting them. Even then, she caught a hip and a shoulder, and she lamented the fact that she wasn't as skinny as a few months ago, even if technically she was healthier now.

The woman at the desk was wholly unperturbed by Mika's entrance, looking up with almost a bored expression. "Yes?"

"Hi, my husband was wrongfully arrested and he's here somewhere and-"

"Ma'am, slow down, I can't understand you." she interrupted. Her lack of sympathy made Mika pause.

"My husband is here, and I would like to speak with him." she said, enunciating slowly and carefully in her accented English. The woman raised an eyebrow, then slid a clipboard forward.

"Sign in here. What's the inmate's name?"

"He's not an inmate, he was-"

"Mika!"

She turned in a flurry and spotted Bucky across the way, leaning against a different desk, and practically flew across the room to him. He grunted as she launched herself into his arms, the metal one coming around her waist to hold her secure.

"Don't scare me like that! They called you an inmate!" she said quickly. She was shaking, she realized. When did that start?

"I know, I'm sorry. It was just a misunderstanding." he said.

"Then we can go?" she asked, pulling back and putting her hands on his ribs. He winced slightly at the touch, and her brows furrowed. "Bucky, what happened?"

"It's…a long story. I'll tell you all about it later." he said. "But I can't leave yet. Technically, they haven't released me."

"But they haven't charged you with anything, right?" she asked.

"You've been watching way too many procedurals."

"Not funny!" she replied. "You're supposed to bail me out of jail someday, not the other way around."

"I know, I'm just as surprised as you." he said with a sigh. He put his hand on her cheek. "But you shouldn't have come, Mika. What if they stick you on house arrest for longer?"

"Emergency situation, remember?" she said. She kicked her leg out, where the bracelet still buzzed. "I didn't even try to hack it to stop this incessant vibrating - don't - so I feel like that should count for something."

He sighed again, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. "I don't deserve you."

"We don't have time to be sentimental." she said, though all she wanted to do was sink into his arms and hug him tight. "We have to get you out of here."

"I can't." he said. He sounded so defeated, it broke Mika's heart. "I have to wait for-"

The doors opened again, and Dr. Raynor strode in, Sam following behind her. She looked way too angry for someone who was supposed to be a therapist. Her eyes slid right past Mika and settled on Bucky, and something about her expression made Mika want to fight her.

"Emergency session. Now." she said, gesturing to a room. Bucky moved after her and Mika took his hand.

He wasn't going alone. Not this time.

Gah, it's so dramatic! Our poor baby in jail, Mika breaking house arrest, what else could possibly go wrong!

I'm so sorry I didn't update for a few weeks, I've been doing a lot of weekend travels, which is usually the time that I write. Going forward, I'll probably alternate which fics I update (since I have 2 going) so that I don't burn out.

Thank you, as always, for your support and reviews. I still can't believe people like this story after all this time. I can't thank y'all enough.

Tell your friends you love them!

-XM