Author's Note: This story is AU. In Captain America: Winter Soldier, Bucky walks away after saving Steve from the river. In this story, he does not. I do not intend this story to be a novel. Maybe a novella. It will have multiple chapters, though I'm not yet sure how many. I hope to find a stopping point well before the events of even Age of Ultron. Again, italics in quotes probably means Russian. Could mean emphasis if it's just a word or two in a longer sentence.
Another Author's Note: For backstory, I am including not only what we've seen and/or heard of Bucky's time with Hydra in Captain America: Winter Solder, Captain America: Civil War, and The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, but also what I've written in my The Making of the Winter Soldier series, which includes (at present) The Asset, The Next Stage, Strong, and His Greatest Achievement.
Marvel Cinematic Universe
The Path Not Taken
By Gabrielle Lawson
Chapter One
Sam spotted him first. Or rather, he spotted them. The Winter Soldier dragging Cap's body out of the water. "There!" he shouted as he pointed. He wished he had a gun. Natasha probably had one. But she wasn't shooting.
Fury turned the chopper and Sam kept his eye on the two. The Soldier dropped the body on the bank and then sat down beside it. What the hell did that mean? Was it a trap or had Cap managed to get through to his friend?
Natasha did have a gun and while she didn't pull the trigger, she kept it trained on the Soldier. Fury hovered just off the bank a dozen yards or so downstream from the two. Sam hopped out with Natasha. He didn't have a weapon but he knew she would cover him.
"Don't move," she ordered. She moved in front of the Soldier, who, to his credit, hadn't moved except to turn his head toward them. Sam knelt by Steve to check his pulse, but he could see then that he was breathing.
"He needs repair." Sam was startled. He'd never heard the Soldier speak, and his voice was calm and non-threatening.
"He needs a hospital," Sam argued. Then he had a thought. "What's wrong with him?"
"He was shot in the left torso, lower ribs; left thigh, posterior; and center lower back. Stab wound in right shoulder. He fell into the water. I retrieved him."
Sam glared at him. "You mean you shot him three times and stabbed him!"
"He was my mission. I failed my mission."
Natasha kept the gun on him and well out of his reach, but she knelt down to be on eye level. "Why? Why did you fail your mission?"
"He said I've known him all my life. He said I am his friend. I saw something, something before the mission. But there's only maintenance before the mission. I have questions. He has answers."
Sam couldn't listen anymore. He was busy telling the 911 operator where to find Steve and what his injuries were. Once that was done, and the ambulance was on the way, he tuned back in.
"If you come back to our base with me, I can answer some of your questions."
"Are you joking?" Sam asked, moving closer to her.
"If Steve is right, this is his friend. He wouldn't want us to send him off to prison. He'll be back in a few days, and he'll want to see him."
Sam looked back at Steve. He was still unconscious, still bleeding. "How can you be so sure?"
She shrugged. "He's a super soldier. He heals fast."
"I will not go to prison." The Soldier had obviously heard them. He started to stand.
"No prison!" Natasha quickly argued. "Our base. We have to guard you, take your weapons, but we'll take care of you. You need repair, too, don't you?"
He dropped back down. He didn't respond at first. Then he lifted his human arm. "My arm is broken."
Sam still felt Steve had gotten the worst of the fight. And that scared him. He thought he could hear sirens in the distance, coming closer.
"We need to go before the others come," Natasha said. She lowered her gun. "Will you come with me?"
Sam didn't like her lowering that gun. He didn't doubt the Soldier could still take them by surprise and kill all of them. Then he could take the chopper and get away. But he could have tried to get away before.
The soldier stood. "I'll need to take your weapons," Natasha said.
The soldier lifted his arms to allow her. She found three knives and even a grenade. How many weapons did this guy normally carry? She dropped the knives in the sand. She handed Sam the grenade. Then she waved the Soldier toward the chopper. The soldier kept his right arm close to his chest as he walked beside her.
Sam sat down in the sand to await the EMTs and decide what he was going to do with the grenade.
"Oh, hell no!"
The soldier had leapt into the chopper while Natasha climbed up beside him. Fury was not happy. "Do you trust me?"
"You, not him!"
"Let's take him back to our base at the dam," she told him. "Sam will stay with Steve."
"You have got to be kidding."
"Steve," the Soldier said, as if trying out the name.
"Yes, Steve is your friend." That was promising. "He's going to the hospital for… repair. Do you remember me?" She pointed to Fury at the controls. "Or him?"
He looked at her for a few minutes as the helicopter lifted clear of the trees. Then he looked toward the cockpit. "No."
"What?"
She ignored Fury. They could talk later. "Were you supposed to return to your base after your mission?"
A look of confusion crossed the Soldier's face, the first hint of emotion she'd seen in him. "I had no instructions post mission."
"That seems odd." She hoped to capitalize on that confusion.
"I… feel… I should return to base for repair and maintenance. But I was not told to return."
"What was your mission?" Fury asked from the front.
"Ensure the success of Project Insight. Kill Captain America. Collateral damage unproblematic."
Natasha had her own experience being undone, but Barnes seemed deeply changed. He spoke of himself as a piece of equipment, and he only knew his present mission, not the one to kill her and Steve, and not the one to kill Fury. How had they made him believe he was only a weapon? "Where would you have gone? Where is your base?"
"Ideal Federal Savings Bank, sub-basement vault."
She was shocked that he told her so easily, and that it would be in such a public place.
"I'm on it," Fury said from the front. Natasha could see the dam ahead.
In a few minutes they were down. Fury glared with his one good eye, but he walked on the other side of the Soldier as they went inside.
Fury went as far as the room where his hospital bed was sitting. Then he left the two of them alone. Natasha noted a small puddle forming where Barnes stood, so she went over and cut some of the plastic down and put it on the mattress. Then she patted the plastic. "Sit here. We'll get a doctor to look at that arm."
He eyed the bed as if he'd never seen one, but he turned and sat on the side of it. Natasha was very close to him now. She knew he could snap her neck with his other arm if he wanted to. But he didn't behave threatening at all.
The doctor arrived. "What have we got?"
Barnes held out his arm. "Set the bone. It will heal."
"Ideally, I'd need to get an X-ray but we don't have that equipment here. I'll need to feel the break to set it properly. Please remove your… jacket?"
If he'd noticed the gleaming metal arm with a Russian star, he didn't mention it. "Let me help you," Natasha said, hoping he remained non-threatening. She reached her right arm toward a strap on his chest.
A strong metal hand clamped on to her wrist and pulled her hand away. "I do not know you." He released her then spoke to the doctor again. "Set the bone. It will heal."
The doctor sighed. "I could give you something for the pain."
"Pain doesn't last," Barnes argued. "Set the bone."
The doctor shrugged. He fingered the arm through the tough sleeve, starting from the shoulder. He found the break halfway down the upper arm. That had to be incredibly painful but Natasha couldn't tell from Barnes's expression beyond a clenched jaw and sweat on his forehead. "If you could help hold him steady."
Natasha was pretty sure Barnes would keep himself steady. But she knew the pain was going to get a lot worse before the break was set. She held up her hands so he could see them. "I'm going to put my hands on your shoulders, to brace you when he pulls." He didn't object so she did just that, setting her feet firmly on the floor. "Ready."
The doctor stood behind and to her left. He pulled and she pushed. She found it surreal to be touching him like this when he'd thrown her off his shoulders into a car—and shot her—less than twenty-four hours earlier. Barnes didn't move, though he did start breathing faster through his nose and then gritted teeth. The doctor pulled harder and his shoulders moved slightly. She pushed harder. She heard the pop and Barnes's eyes, directly in front of hers, grew wide. His breath hitched. She let go.
The doctor held the appendage out to her. "Keep it still. I'll find something to splint it but it's just going to get wet."
When she turned back to Barnes, he was breathing again but she could still tell he was in pain. "You sure you don't need medicine for the pain?"
He replied through still-gritted teeth. "Pain doesn't last."
"My name is Natasha," she told him.
"My name is James Buchanan Barnes."
She gave him a smile. "Nice to meet you. Steve is my friend, too."
The doctor returned with a short, thin board and some bandages. She held the arm as he wrapped the board to it. "Try not to use it," the doctor instructed, "until it heals. We really should cast it."
"He'll heal fast," she said, still facing Barnes, "won't you?"
The doctor shrugged again then slipped a cloth sling over Barnes's head and placed the arm in it.
Barnes's face was relaxing and he stared at the sling with a strange curiosity. He had blood in his hair and on his face. She used the leftover bandages and a new bottle of water on the table next to the bed. He stayed still as she dabbed the cut on his chin, already healing, and the slightly larger one on his cheekbone. However short his memory, he was used to pain. She handed him the rest of the bottle. "Drink up."
Fury returned. "We've got a secure spot for him. We'll move the bed in there." He still eyed Barnes with distrust but that was to be expected. Natasha didn't trust him either. Not yet. But he was becoming a mystery she wanted to crack.
Sam leaned back into the uncomfortable chair in the waiting room. He took out his phone and dialed Natasha's new number.
She picked up after two rings. "Hey, Sam. How is he?"
"I guess the silver-armed menace hasn't killed you yet."
"He hasn't killed anyone—"
"In the last hour." He cut her off. He didn't like the situation one bit.
"He's secure, Sam, and he hasn't tried to hurt anyone. I was inches from his face when the doctor set his arm. How is Steve?"
Sam relented. "In surgery. Should be a few hours."
"You should go home and get cleaned up."
"You sure you don't need me there?" Why had he even said that? He did not want to be where that dark monstrosity was.
"We've got it. He's not as scary up close, you know. And he doesn't even remember that he tried to kill me yesterday."
Sam definitely remembered yesterday. He remembered being kicked off the helicarrier today, too. "Alright. Let's keep each other updated though, yeah?"
"Of course. Hey, after your shower, let's meet at the Ideal Federal Savings Bank."
Natasha waited on a bench across the street from the bank. There were still several unmarked black cars there. She saw Sam approaching from the east. "Sorry it took me so long. Had to take the Metro."
She gave him a slight smile. "Something wrong with your car?"
Sam smirked. "It's in the shop. What's with the bank?"
"The silver-armed menace's base. The FBI is combing the upper levels. We're headed for the sub-basement vault."
She led him to a side door and they slipped into the stairwell, while FBI agents stood at the elevator.
She took out her gun as she opened the door to the sub-basement. She screwed on the silencer and heard voices around the next corner. They were discussing how to destroy a machine. Or if they should bother with the FBI upstairs.
She turned the corner. "You probably shouldn't bother." She dropped two men in tactical gear and backed the other, in a white shirt and tie, into the machine. She handed Sam some zip ties and Sam removed him while she inspected the machine. It was large, taking up a good amount of the room. It had a seat surrounded by three computer screens. They were labeled in Russian. Above the seat was a strange halo of equipment. She moved over to the control panels and pulled out a tablet. She set that down and tried the keyboard, looking for the purpose of this machine.
Sam joined her. "You read that?"
"Yes, I can." She found some files in an archive. None of them mentioned Barnes's name. Instead, she saw 'the Asset' used several times with date stamps. She pulled up the most recent. A video began to play, so she lifted the tablet to record it.
Sam joined her. On the screen, Barnes was shirtless and seated in the chair. Two technicians were repairing his metal arm. "That from yesterday?"
"Yeah," she replied. "Steve damaged his arm." Barnes snapped his head to the left suddenly. The angle wasn't close enough to really see his expression. He leaned forward and then lashed out at one of the techs, sending him flying into the wall. The other tech went to his comrade. She heard the click of guns. There had to be guards. Barnes settled again. Then a new group entered the room. She saw Pierce move closest to Barnes. She recognized a few members of the strike team beside him. Rumlow, for sure.
"Mission report," Pierce ordered. "Mission report, now!" When Barnes didn't respond, he slapped him hard across the face.
That got Barnes's attention, but he didn't act out. She had to listen hard to hear him. "That man on the bridge. Who was he?"
"Do you think he knew?" Sam asked.
"Shh!" Natasha wanted to hear. Pierce tried to put him off, saying he'd met him on a different assignment earlier in the week. Just how long had Barnes been here? She almost missed Barnes's next words.
"I knew him."
She and Sam looked at each other and then back to the video. Pierce pulled up a stool and sat in front of Barnes. "Your work has been a gift to mankind," he said. Sam smirked. "You shaped the century! And I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. And tomorrow morning we're gonna give it a push. But if you don't do your part, I can't do mine. And Hydra can't give the world the freedom it deserves."
"That's bullshit," Sam whispered.
"But I knew him," Barnes breathed.
Pierce stood. "Prep him." For what?
"He's been out of cryo-freeze too long," one of the techs replied. That explained a lot.
"Then wipe him and start over." Barnes didn't look happy, though it was hard to tell. The technicians pushed him back in the seat and inserted a mouthguard. Barnes didn't fight it, but once new restraints locked over his upper arms, his breathing quickened and she realized he was scared. The halo spun around and opened at the sides of his head. She saw sparks of electricity. They closed over his head and face, covering one eye. He screamed. Over and over. Sam looked away but Natasha watched Pierce and company just turn and walk off. She counted the seconds, then minutes until the machine shut down and Barnes was released.
He looked worn out. He turned his head in confusion, lifted his arm like he was seeing it for the first time. The technicians put it back down and went on with repairs now that he was docile.
She stopped recording but let the video play. "That's why he doesn't remember."
"They straight up tortured the guy? Shit."
The technician they'd tied up began to laugh. Sam went over and punched him.
Natasha ran the video forward. Figures moved about Barnes. They shaved him, dressed him, fed him something from a pouch. Pierce returned, holding out his phone. She slowed the playback and started a new recording on her tablet. The phone was speaking, in Russian. Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. It didn't make any sense. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car. Barnes looked up at Pierce.
"Good morning, Soldier," Pierce said.
Barnes responded in Russian. "Ready to comply."
She realized now what the words were. She'd recorded them. If by some mistake he heard the recording.… She stopped recording and then deleted the file. On screen, Pierce gave Barnes his mission to ensure the success of Project Insight and kill Captain America. And he included collateral damage being unproblematic. She stopped the video.
"What was that?" Sam asked, pointing to the screen.
"They activated him. He's programmed. Brainwashed." She stepped back, anger filling her chest with a heat that was uncomfortable. She wasn't so different from him. The Red Room had unmade her. This damn machine had unmade him. Maybe more than once. "We have to help him, Sam."
Sam sighed, leaning back on the machine. "I was afraid you were going to say that."
Sam accompanied Natasha back to the dam. Steve was probably in recovery now so he didn't want to stay long. They had Barnes in an isolated section with three solid walls. The hospital bed was in there along with a table and two chairs. Barnes was sitting at the table with his arms—one gloved but otherwise silver in color and the other in black tactical gear splinted and slung to his chest with white bandages. He was staring at the wall behind them and the two guards.
Sam stayed back as Natasha went and pulled the second chair to the side of the table so she was closer to him. Sam leaned against the wall.
"Remember me?" she asked.
"Natasha."
She smiled. "Right. That is Sam." She pointed his direction. Sam lifted a finger. "He's also Steve's friend."
"Is everyone Steve's friend?" Barnes asked.
Her smile widened. "I don't think those two guys really know him. We went to the Ideal Federal Savings Bank sub-basement vault. I want to show you something we found there." She put the tablet on the table in front of him and started the video when Pierce entered the first time.
She pointed to Pierce. "Do you know who that is?"
"Pierce."
She pointed to Barnes, seated in the machine. "And him?"
He lifted his bandaged arm to touch his face. Sam wondered if he'd ever looked in a mirror. Barnes looked at his metal arm, opening and closing the fingers. "That's you," Natasha confirmed.
On the video, Piece finished his speech. Sam couldn't hear it but knew this was when Barnes repeated that he knew Steve.
"Who did I know?" Barnes asked.
"Steve," Sam answered. "You knew Steve."
"Then wipe him and start over." Barnes was getting antsy. When the screaming started, he stood up so fast, the chair fell backwards with a thud.
Sam tensed up and the guards aimed their weapons. But Natasha held up her hands, waving them down. Barnes was pacing like a caged tiger.
"That's why you don't remember," Natasha told him. "They took your memories. Hydra hurt you."
"Hydra is freedom," Barnes said. Sam thought he was trying to convince himself.
Natasha didn't stop. "You weren't free. They lied to you. You are James Buchanan Barnes. You were born in 1917. You and Steve have been friends since you were kids. You fought beside him in the war. Against the Nazis. Against Hydra."
Sam wasn't sure this was the right time for an infodump. Steve should be here. He's the only one who really knew Barnes.
Barnes was still pacing. He shook his head.
"You fell. Hydra found you. They gave you that arm. They hurt you. Experimented on you. Gave you the serum to make you very strong. They lied to you and hurt you to make you do what they wanted. To make you their Winter Soldier. They sent you on a mission then stuck you in a freezer until they needed you again."
Sam didn't know if that would help him remember or just challenge his whole identity as he knew it.
Barnes stalked to the wall and punched it hard enough with his metal arm to crack the concrete. Sam decided he needed to call it before Barnes lost control. He waved Natasha off and approached Barnes, who still had his fist in the cracked wall, but his forhead was now pressed against the wall, too. His eyes were closed tight. "We'll get Steve here as soon as he's, uh, repaired. He'll help you remember. You're safe here. We won't hurt you and we won't lie to you."
He walked to one of the guards. "Let me see your phone, man."
The guy shrugged but handed him his phone. Sam pulled up Spotify and found a 40's playlist. He started it up. He handed the phone back. "You make sure he can hear that. But not too loud." He turned to the other guard. "His phone dies, you pick it up. Get Premium, no commercials. Pass that on when the shift changes."
Sam stepped out and waved Natasha over to him. He spoke quietly. "I'm not sure you can just undo him cold turkey. Are you prepared for what happens when and if he remembers all the shit they did to him? PTSD is going to be an understatement."
"We're going to help him," she repeated.
"He's gonna need more than that." God, when had he started thinking of Barnes as a victim instead of a waking nightmare? "I'm going back to the hospital."
"I'll stay," she said, looking back at Barnes who was still pressed against the wall.
He figured she would. "Go easy on him. Steve cracked him open. You shoved a tractor through the crack. He needs to slow down or you'll break him."
The music had apparently had an effect. Barnes was seated on the floor under his crack when she returned. She had a bag of dry clothes and a tray with two meals from Sonic. Cheeseburgers with cheese tots and small chocolate shakes. His expression was unreadable. He didn't even track her movement to the table. "Are you hungry?"
He didn't reply or move. She set the bag on the floor and then set out the food in front of their chairs and picked up the chair that had fallen. Then she went over and knelt in front of him. "I'm hungry and I don't like to eat alone."
He at least looked at her. But he made no move to get up. She took a breath and reached for his hand—the metal one as she didn't want to hurt his broken arm. She took it and stood. He unfolded himself and let her lead him to the table.
He looked at the food without sitting. "What is it?"
"Cheeseburgers." She sat and patted the seat of his chair.
He sat but looked genuinely suspicious of the food. What had they fed him in the bank? She unwrapped her burger halfway and took a bite. "Mmmm," she said, smiling as she chewed.
He started to unwrap his but promptly dropped his right hand. Either it had hurt or he remembered being told not to use it. So she reached over and unwrapped his burger. He watched her as he took a bite. His eyes widened as he chewed.
"Do you like it?" she asked.
"I don't understand." His mouth was still full so it was muffled.
She made an exaggerated motion as she swallowed and he copied her, swallowing his food.
"Did it taste good?" Her heart broke just a little realizing they probably never let him voice his likes or dislikes. She knew how that felt. But for him, it had been decades.
"I don't know."
"Well, if you didn't like it, you might make a face like this." She screwed up her face in a hopefully comical display of disgust. Then she picked up her fork and skewered one of her tots. "These are tater tots—potatoes—covered in cheese." She popped it into her mouth.
He tried one, mirroring her movements with the fork. He chewed and swallowed then eyed the cup.
Natasha smiled. "I should've gotten you something healthy, but I wanted to celebrate. Your first meal free. This is a chocolate shake." She sucked hard on her straw before the ice cream filled her mouth.
He did likewise and his eyes widened even more. She smiled and after he swallowed, she saw the slightest upturn of his lips. James Buchanan Barnes had just smiled for the first time in seventy years.
"On your left."
Sam had been reading, but he lifted his eyes to see Steve looking back at him, tired but awake. "Guess I'm alive," he said.
"Just barely," Sam told him, smiling.
"And Bucky?"
And here we go. "Bucky's alive, too. He's back at the dam. Natasha's keeping him company."
"Then he remembers." Steve started to reach for the IV.
Sam pushed his hand away. "He's probably asleep by now. You are not getting out of bed until at least tomorrow morning. Sit back and I'll tell you all I know."
Steve relented. So Sam told him how they'd found them on the banks, Steve unconscious and Barnes sitting next to him. He told him about the bank and that damn machine that took Barnes's memories.
"That's why he didn't remember me?"
"Yeah. After seeing that, I realized you were right and I was wrong. He is the type we save."
"He's okay then?" Steve was fighting to stay awake. "I broke his arm."
And he shot and stabbed you, Sam wanted to say. "It's been set. He's as good as he can be right now. He has questions."
"So do I." Steve surrendered and fell back asleep.