Chapter 12: Heartache

Steve, Natasha, and Wanda went to the rendezvous point. Steve didn't like handing information over to Hydra, but they had little time to plan or improvise. Hydra made sure of that. Tony was in his lab, and they ventured to guess that Hydra didn't know about Vision yet. Bucky was on a rooftop with a long-range C15 rifle.

Tony's voice was in his ear. "Approaching from the West, Cap. Nat, be ready."

Steve didn't like the plan. Hydra would be expecting tracking devices and subterfuge, but it was all they had to go on, and Vision was their back up ace in the hole.

The black van pulled up.

Why is it always a black van? Steve wondered.

The vehicle stopped twenty feet away. The side door slid open, and Steve saw the subtlest of movements from Natasha out of the corner of his eye. He knew she used the noise from the door opening and the distraction it would provide to send the tiny tracking device gliding forward through the air and onto the undercarriage of the van. She glanced over at him, confirming silently.

James Proctor stepped out, a black-clad man on either side. His hands were restrained in front of him. Obviously, they considered him no threat.

Steve wondered what was going through Bucky's head. He wished Bucky could have met his nephew under better circumstances. This would be one hell of a way to get to know one another.

Another man stepped from the van. He approached the Avengers, while the other two kept their distance with Proctor.

Steve held the books in his hands—two black journals with the red book stacked on top, the black star on the cover. The man looked at Steve skeptically, almost fearfully. Steve took the opening, stepping forward.

"You let him walk to us, and you get this. You hurt him, and you'll be dead before you hit the ground."

The man straightened. "My orders are to have you set the books on the ground and walk away. All of you. Then I'll release the hostage. If you attempt to kill, capture, or interfere with us, one of the hostages will die."

"Steve, move a step to your right." Bucky's voice said in his right ear.

Casually, Steve moved to his right as he set the books on the ground. He slowly straightened. "The others will back off, but I'm not moving until James Proctor is safe. We can play this the easy way or the hard way. That part's nonnegotiable."

The man hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Wanda and Natasha walked away. The Hydra agent in front of Steve waved at the two men, who sent James walking forward.

Steve didn't take his eyes off the agent, but when Bucky's nephew got close, Steve told him to keep walking. James complied silently, looking slightly unsteady on his feet. A moment later, he heard Natasha in his ear.

"Got him."

Steve backed away from the books. "All yours."

The man stooped quickly, grabbed them, and hopped in the van. The van peeled off. Steve watched them go until they were almost out of sight, then he turned and walked back to the Avenger's complex.

"Vision?" he inquired.

"I'm well outside their range of detection. They have a drone in the distance, but I was able to interface with it."

"Good job, Vision. Keep tracking them."

He knew they'd find the tracker Natasha planted. They'd probably switch vehicles. That was the plan. He hoped, however, that they didn't find the grain-of-rice sized tracker Tony had planted on one of the inside pages of Bucky's journal, camouflaged in one of the sketches. Tony claimed it would be inert, inactive, and undetectable by any electronic scanner until it was activated by a satellite signal.

They'd no doubt expect the journals to be tampered with, but when they couldn't find anything, Steve hoped they'd find the journals too valuable a prize to leave behind…or that he and the other Avengers could rescue the hostages before Hydra managed to copy them and dump the originals.

By the time Steve made it to the Avenger's complex, Natasha, Wanda, and James were waiting for him. James was inside the lobby, seated in a chair, rubbing his wrists. A glass of water was on the table next to him, and Dr. Abodon was looking him over.

Steve walked up to him. "I'm sorry for what you've gone through. Are you okay?"

James looked up at him. Up close, Steve noticed the resemblance in the blue eyes and the shape the of the mouth. This was definitely Bucky's nephew.

"I'm fine." James took a shaky sip of the water. "Is it true? Is my uncle—James Buchanan Barnes—alive?"

Steve smiled. "Yes, he is." He extended his hand. "I'm Steve Rogers. It's a pleasure to meet you. I just wish it had been under better circumstances."

James took the hand, shook it, and managed a weak smile. "I know who you are, Captain. It's a pleasure to meet you, too. I've heard a lot about you from my mom." He took a breath. "How is it possible that my uncle's alive?"

"That," Steve sighed, "is a long story."

He wasn't sure how to explain it all, or even whether he should. They'd been trying to keep the knowledge that Bucky was alive relatively contained within what was left of Hydra and SHIELD. If the information got out more broadly, other factions of the government might come looking for him.

"I'm asking that you keep your uncle's existence a secret for now," Steve asked the man. He didn't know him or how James would react to that request, but he hoped, if he were anything like Becca or Bucky, that the man would understand and honor the request.

"Even from my mother?" James asked.

Steve nodded. He hated to ask the man to do that, but it was the best thing at the moment. "For now, anyway. Please. As you just found out, there are people who want to do him harm."

James nodded. "Yeah. Okay. You have my word."

Steve heard footsteps, and suddenly Bucky was there, the large rifle held across his body in his right arm. He stopped just inside the doors, eyes on James, assessing, evaluating.

James looked up at him. Steve saw the moment of recognition. The older man rose, his gaze going to the rifle in Bucky's hand, then to the metal arm with the Russian star.

Bucky carefully unloaded the rifle and lowered it to the floor. He walked up to his nephew. James set the glass of water on the side table and faced him.

The mixture of disbelief and guilt that swirled in Bucky's deep blue eyes compelled Steve to take a few steps back to give his friend space with his newfound family member.

"I recognize your face," the older man told him. He smiled. "I can't believe I'm getting the chance to meet you. My mother told me so much about you." James held out his hand.

Bucky looked at the hand for a moment as if it were a snake that might bite him. Then, slowly, he extended his right hand and clasped James'.

"It's nice to meet you," Bucky said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"How is it that you haven't aged?" James asked.

Bucky glanced uncertainly at Steve, then back at the older man again. "It's a long story."

James nodded. "That's what Captain Rogers said. I know he was frozen in the ice. That was all over the news, but you…we thought you were dead, all this time."

"I was…." Bucky took a breath, dropping his hand to his side, "….frozen for a lot of that time, too."

"Oh." James looked confused. "Not with Captain Rogers, though?"

"No."

"Okay." James took a breath. "I get it. No more questions. I should shut up. Actually, one more question. I won't tell anyone, not even my mother, that you're alive. But she doesn't have a lot of time left. Do you plan to reach out to her soon? I can't tell you what it would mean to her to know you're alive."

Steve saw the pain and uncertainty on Bucky's face. Why hadn't they done a better job of mopping up the Hydra stragglers? It seemed impossible to get rid of Hydra, even after the destruction of the helicarriers and the release of their secrets.

Hydra was still around to tear apart lives and hurt good people.

"If I can," Bucky said finally, "I will. I'm not sure what the next few days will hold for me."

James' face fell with realization. "Oh. Right."

"You need to go with Natasha." Bucky said. "She'll get you to safety."

James nodded sadly as Natasha walked up to him. He began to go with her, then stopped and turned back to Bucky.

"Before I go," James began, "I just want to say 'thank you' for your service, for fighting the Nazis. I don't know what happened to you after you fell off that train, but I see that you paid a terrible price for helping to save the world. I've always been damn proud to be named after you. I hope I get to see you again soon, under better circumstances."

Bucky looked shell-shocked, his right hand trembled at his side, and his blue eyes shimmered. "You're welcome."

Steve walked up to Bucky and clasped a hand on his shoulder, then turned to James. "Thank you. Natasha will take you to a safe house for a few days. Take care of yourself and say hello to Becca for me when you see her next." Steve looked up at Natasha and nodded.

She gently guided James toward the back of the complex.

-0- -0- -0-

When Tony's phone rang next, 42 minutes after the exchange, he was ready for it. The group was clustered in his lab. FRIDAY was tracing the call. Vision had checked in about the location.

Unfortunately, Hydra had been as smart as they figured, exchanging the van midway, keeping to heavily wooded areas and tunnels, and having five black decoy vans scattering in all directions.

Without risking being seen, Vision was able to narrow the choice of vans to one of two based on weight, size, and driving pattern. He followed one, sent Hydra's own drone following the other one. When, Hydra shot the drone down, Tony knew it had been following the right van.

Unfortunately, that meant they now only had a general direction to consider. Vision—the world's most sophisticated new lifeform—had lost the target.

The hologram sprung to life from Tony's phone. Steve, Wanda, and Bucky huddled around. Natasha was getting James Barnes situated in a safe location for the time being.

Ivanov's face sprang into view. "Thank you for playing nicely."

"Go to hell, asshat." Tony just needed to keep the man talking. He knew the other guy was aware of that, unfortunately.

"Next, on the agenda, our Winter Soldier. One hour. We'll exchange the other two hostages as honorably as we did Mr. Proctor once we have him in our possession. Soldat, come alone."

"No deal," Steve spoke up. "Once you have Bucky, you'll have no reason to give us the hostages. Simultaneous exchange."

"One hour. Location on screen," Ivanov said, and an address popped up. "If you don't comply, you'll have one dead hostage on your hands. That might motivate you to get the other back alive."

The connection ended.

"Son of a bitch," Steve said.

If the situation weren't so serious, Tony might have made a remark about his language. Right now, the only thing he cared about was getting Pepper, and hopefully Sam, back alive. The assholes were playing hardball. He could play harder.

"They're not going to release the hostages," Bucky said. "They'll keep them as insurance for a while, until they have no use for them."

"They must know we know that," Steve said. "Do they think we'll be stupid enough to hand you over?"

Tony listened to their conversation. Hydra knew they weren't stupid, but they were desperate. Hydra also knew Tony would jump at any straw to get Pepper back. Those assholes had been quietly planning this whole time.

He had less than an hour to come up with a plan of his own.

"I'm going in," Bucky said. "If they don't know about my ear devices, we may have a shot that I can get in and rescue the hostages."

Tony sighed. "They can't know about them, not unless there's a leak, and after the imposter, you can be damn sure there're no other leaks here. But they could find them if they did a physical exam. They'd have to look in your ear canal. The devices sit too far down and aren't easily visible on casual inspection."

"Too risky that they'll find them," Steve said.

"I have another solution," Tony looked up. His tinkering always paid off. "I was working on a version for long-term wear. It's flesh-toned and sits far down in your ear canal. It operates the same way, but once it's in, it takes someone with a scope to remove them."

Bucky nodded. "That'll work."

"One problem. The prototype is so small, it only has about a 20-hour battery life. The sound is less sophisticated, too. It does the job, but because it sits even closer to your ear drum, it's going to be more uncomfortable if triggered."

"I can handle it," Bucky said.

"We've still got your arm tagged with the GPS." Tony sighed, but he knew Hydra would expect that, especially after they'd found Bucky so quickly the first time. The GPS was shielded and unlikely to be found by a standard scanner, but they'd no doubt be looking extra hard for it this time.

"They'll find it," Steve said.

"I know."

"Let them," Bucky said. "In fact, if they think they've triggered the Winter Soldier, they'll ask me what's planted on me. Let me give them the GPS and a small, well-hidden backup tracker."

Tony nodded. "I can place one in your boot for you to give them. A scanner won't pick it up easily. I have prototypes like the one in the journal—small, about the size of a grain of rice. They'll be inactive until pinged—"

"X150 tracker located," FRIDAY's voice interrupted.

"Where is it?" Tony asked, hopeful, but he knew not to get his hopes up too much.

A satellite image came up—an empty field. There was a small fire in a gravel driveway. Tony sighed. He was batting zero today.

"They took images and dumped the books," Steve said.

"Yeah," Bucky confirmed. "The journals are—gone."

Tony heard the sadness in Bucky's voice and looked up at the man. "I'm sorry."

Bucky shrugged. "They were just things. Pepper and Sam are what's important to focus on right now."

Tony nodded. If they hurt Pepper, he'd hunt all of them for as long as it took.

"We've got 50 minutes, Stark," Bucky said.

Natasha's light footsteps entered. "James is all set. Happy's got him taken care of. What's our play?"

"Working it out now," Steve said.

"Stark, can you do what we talked about earlier?" Bucky asked.

"No," Steve said. "We're not going that route."

Tony understood where Steve was coming from, but he had a blind spot when it came to his old friend. Barnes wasn't an innocent civilian. He was a soldier, had been even before Hydra got hold of him. He knew the stakes, and the risk.

Frankly, Tony didn't blame Barnes. There were fates worse than death, and from what he'd learned about Barnes' time with Hydra, Tony understood why the man preferred death. Why didn't Steve get that?

Tony got up, walked across his lab, and reached into a cabinet drawer. He pulled out the tiny device. It was the size of a dime. "I can link this device to the implant on your heart, not enough to control it, but enough to send an overload signal. I just need to run a scanner over your chest to get a solid reading on the cardiac implant. We'll need to implant my device close to the one on your heart. I can activate my device remotely, and it'll send a feedback signal to the implant on your heart and cause it to overload."

"Like an EMP?" Bucky asked.

"Not exactly, but you have the general idea," Tony said. He'd spare the men from the 40s the techno jargon.

"No." Steve was in Tony's face, reaching for the device, but Bucky intercepted before Cap could grab it.

The next thing Tony knew, Bucky had Steve slammed against the wall.

"Stop it, Steve," Bucky said, his voice quivering, his hands gripping the front of Steve's uniform and his face inches away. "You want to know how you can help me? This is it. Make sure they don't turn me into the Winter Soldier again. I haven't asked you for much. I'm asking you for this. It's what I want. I'm so goddamned sorry I have to ask you for this. I know how you feel. I'd feel the same way if it were you. But I'm asking. I can't go back to that. You don't understand what it's like. Please, Steve."

Shit.

Tony had never seen Rogers cry, but he was crying now. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks as he stared into Bucky's face, studying. Tony also saw the moment Steve made the decision. His shoulders sagged, and he dropped his head against Bucky's collarbone.

"Only as a last resort," Steve whispered. "If they activate the Winter Soldier, I'll try everything in my power to get you back. If we can't, I'll hit the kill switch myself. Please don't ask me for anything more than that, Bucky."

Bucky's voice was as gentle as Tony had ever heard it. "Okay, Buddy." Bucky slid his hand around the back of Steve's neck. "Thank you."

Tony felt the sting of tears in his eyes and scrubbed quickly at his eyes. This whole situation was shit. He looked at Natasha and, for the first time, saw something like genuine empathy in her eyes. Hell, she looked on the verge of tears herself.

Bucky release Steve, giving him a final pat on the shoulder, then turned to Tony. "So, how does it work, exactly?"

"This," Tony cleared his throat as he held up the dime-sized device, "will need to stay on you. Safest place, subdermal." It's short range, about 25 feet. This," he reached into the same drawer and pulled out a larger device," is the remote scanner and control box. It can send a signal from anywhere in the world to the device embedded under your skin. That will trigger the embedded device to send a signal overloading the Hydra implant on your heart. I'm not sure if death will be instantaneous." Tony winced, he hated having this conversation and especially hated the look on Rogers' face. "It'll probably create a nice sized hole in your heart. For any normal human, it would kill them instantly. For you – I'm not sure. Probably. I hope so. We obviously can't test this, but it should work."

Bucky gave a curt nod. "Let's get going.

Tony nodded. He'd be damned if he let the kill switch be the best option. "I was about to say before, that I'll plant a couple of back up locators. Another in your arm, about the same size as the one in the journal. I can put it deep enough in the innards of your arm that they shouldn't be able find it, and the mechanics of the arm should hide it from any scanner. It remains inactive until pinged, anyway. I'd like to place another one below your skin, inconspicuous."

"Behind my knee." Bucky suggested.

Tony nodded. "A scanner won't find any of the implants. They're all inert and won't give off any electromagnetic radiation of any kind until pinged. We can use the portable regeneration cradle to close up the wound after we implant the subdermal devices so there's no evidence of the cut."

"They're pinged by satellite?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah, so if you're underground, the satellite won't be able to reach them," Tony explained. "I might have time to implant something in your metal hand that'll let you manually activate the trackers," he glanced at his watch. Shit. Forty minutes left.

"Will they find it?" Bucky asked.

"It won't be detectable until you activate it." Tony muttered, but his brain was already working. He had something that would work, with a few tweaks, but he'd have to work fast.

It would take ten minutes by car to get to the address. A minute in the jet. He wasn't sure he had enough time. "VISION, we need you in the lab. FRIDAY, get to work. I need everything ready in 25 minutes."

He hoped between himself, Vision, and FRIDAY, they could make that timeline.

-0- -0- -0-

Bucky got out of the jet, walking down the ramp with Steve beside him. They were at an empty field, with a boarded-up building that looked like it might have been a gas station at one time. They'd told him to come alone, so this would be a drop off. Vision would be keeping a bead on him from a distance. Tony would track him with the GPS that Hydra was sure to find.

Bucky scanned the area. He didn't see anyone else, but he heard the slight rumble of a van in the distance. Hydra was approaching.

He turned to Steve. Seeing the anguish on his friend's face almost broke his resolve, but two lives were depending on this going well.

Bucky reached out, clapped his friend on the shoulder. "This is where we say goodbye."

Steve pulled him into a hard hug. "I'll see you later."

Bucky relished the contact for a few seconds. It was all he had. The van was close. He pulled back and gave Steve what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Whatever happens, it's been nice seeing you again."

"Don't do anything stupid until we get you back."

Bucky grinned at the memory, those words from so long ago. "How can I? You've taken all the stupid." The sound of the van was audible to even normal ears now. "Get out of here."

Steve nodded and headed up the ramp, then turned around and gave Bucky a final long look before the ramp closed and the jet lifted off the ground and sped off.

Bucky turned around and faced the approaching van. He was still wearing his jeans and blue shirt, but he'd switched into the boots he'd arrived in. The van came to a halt, tearing up dirt and sending it spraying toward Bucky.

He didn't flinch or move. The side door opened. Inside, were four armed men. They all looked at him skeptically, guns raised.

"Get in," one of the men said. He was older, with salt and pepper hair and dark eyes.

Bucky gave a tight nod and got into the van. The door closed behind him and the van started moving. Two of the men lowered their guns. The other two kept theirs raised on him. One waved a scanner over him. They weren't stupid this time. The scanner didn't find the GPS. It did find the device in his right boot.

"Take off your boots."

He sat on the bench against the van wall and slipped off each boot. The door opened, and the man tossed them out, then closed the door again.

"Do you have anything else on you?"

Bucky looked at the man silently. He had to play it convincingly. They hadn't attempted to activate the Winter Soldier program, and he wasn't going to cave so easily. They'd be suspicious if he did.

The man backhanded him. Bucky looked back at him.

"Fuck with us, and the hostages die."

Bucky leaned forward. All the men tensed. "If the hostages die, I have no reason to play nice."

The salt-and-pepper man had the good sense to look anxious.

"Check him out," salt-and-pepper guy commanded the goon sitting next to him.

The goon turned to him, but the expression on his face told Bucky he didn't relish the assignment.

"Stand up, Soldat," the salt-and-pepper team leader ordered.

Bucky stood and kept his hands to his side. The goon did a very thorough pat-down. The man then raised a flashlight and looked in his ears.

"Found something," the guard's voice was alarmed.

Bucky stiffened.

The guard reached in, grabbed the ear device, and pulled it out. He did the same with the one on the other side. The salt-and-pepper commander smiled at Bucky. "What else do you have hidden, Soldat?"

"Open your mouth," the goon commanded, but there was a slight quiver in his voice.

Bucky complied, following all the instructions. "Lift your tongue…Pull your bottom lip down. Pull up your top lip. Close your mouth. Tilt your head back…"

They were being very thorough, checking his nasal passages and more. He knew what was coming next. He just didn't know if they'd do it in the van or elsewhere.

"Strip." The command answered his question.

Bucky took a breath and removed his clothes until he was standing naked, surrounded by the four men, two barrels aimed at him.

The goon with the flashlight told him to raise his arms. He did. His palms touched the top of the van. The man shone the flashlight over his body, then ordered him to turn around and inspected his neck, shoulders, back, armpits, and legs.

The regeneration cradle had fully repaired the surgical cuts. They'd find no evidence of the implants.

"Lift your feet for me."

He showed them the bottom of each foot.

"Turn back around."

Bucky faced the guard again, his hands still raised. His heart pounded in his chest. So far, they were keeping it professional, but being naked and surrounded by four men was bringing back bad memories he'd tried hard to keep pushed deep into the back of his mind.

"Lift your penis," the man ordered.

Bucky lowered his hands and complied, keeping his gaze on the guard the entire time.

The guard shifted uncomfortably. "Now lift your testicles."

Bucky complied.

"Turn around again."

Bucky took a breath and turned.

"Bend over, spread your butt cheeks."

Bucky gritted his teeth and complied. He heard the frantic roar of his pulse in his ears. Panic rose in his chest. He closed his eyes, pushed it down, focused on the mission.

Primary objective: locate and extract the hostages. Secondary objective: escape.

He felt something hard push into his rectum, and his breath rushed from his lungs. He closed his eyes, willed himself not to move, not to lash out.

"Are you trembling, Soldat?" The leader's voice mocked.

Bucky swallowed hard, gritted his teeth harder.

"Camera's clear," the guard said, and, mercifully, the probe slid out of him.

"Stand up, Soldat. Have some dignity," the team leader ordered.

Bucky straightened and faced the older man.

The team leader had a smirk on his face. "Now," he gestured to the bench seat, "you may sit for the rest of the ride."

Bucky sat.

"Search the arm," the team leader commanded the guard.

Bucky raised his metal arm, and the man shone the flashlight over it. He found the GPS at the back of the arm and pulled it off. It was the size of a pea, but flat, and the exact shade of chrome as the arm.

The van door opened again, and the goon tossed the GPS device out. As the door slid shut again, the team leader asked.

"How thoroughly should we keep searching? You know once we get you to the major general, he'll activate the Winter Soldier inside you. You'll tell us. If the Soldier tells us something you don't now, I'll shoot one of the hostages."

Bucky debated. He had one more throwaway device in his arm, more accessible than the deeper one Tony had planted. He'd planned to give that one up once they activated the Winter Soldier, but he didn't dare risk Pepper or Sam."

He took a breath and decided to play it safe. "There's one more inside the arm." He flexed the plates, reached in just above the wrist, and pulled it out.

The man took it, and that too, was tossed outside the van.

"If there are any more devices that we find," the team leader leaned closer to him, "you know what'll happen. You know I'm not bluffing."

Bucky met his gaze with a hard one of his own. "I know. That's all there is."

He hoped like hell they didn't find the others.

The van stopped, and they forced him out. They were inside a small hangar. Four other black vans were there, and they transferred him into one, closing the door. The van moved again.

Ten minutes later, the van came to a stop. The door slid open. He was inside a large garage. Five armed guards were positioned at various stations, guns raised. He saw stairs leading down, and knew that, once down, the satellite wouldn't be able to ping the implants. He couldn't risk manually activating them now. Once he was down, they'd likely do another scan, just to be sure.

The guns remained focused on him. A hand shoved him toward the staircase. He was still naked. It was a humiliation tactic, he knew. The team leader led the way. The other three surrounded him.

He followed them down. Once at the bottom, they parted. He saw Pepper and Sam, both tied to chairs against one wall. Three additional guards were in the room, along with Ivanov. With the four men from the van, that made eight total downstairs, five above, and an unknown number on the outside.

Pepper averted her eyes quickly when she saw him. Sam's eyes went wide, looking him up and down. Tape was still over the Falcon's mouth. Pepper was in a similar position, but for some reason they hadn't taped her mouth. Bucky wondered if they'd tried to get information out of her. Maybe they'd figure she'd cave more easily than Wilson. He hoped they hadn't hurt her. She looked to be in decent shape, but he knew Hydra had ways of getting information that didn't leave obvious marks.

He felt self-conscious in front of them as he stood there naked. He should be used to this. Hydra considered him a piece of equipment. He'd stripped in front of strangers for cleanings, exams, surgeries, and other things he dared not dwell on. But it was different being in front of them now, as himself, around people who knew who he was, who knew Steve and who were seeing him paraded around like a thing.

The major general walked up to him. "So, I understand Stark gave you some fancy earplugs." The officer's eyes went to the team leader. "You're sure he's clean?"

The man nodded. "I hope so. It's possible they hid something in his arm, but he insists we've found everything. I've informed him what will happen if he's lying."

The major general nodded. He held his palm out. "Flashlight."

The goon from before slapped the flashlight into his hand. The major general shone it in his ears, peered inside. Bucky tried not to let his anxiety show on his face. He steadied his breathing.

Apparently satisfied, the man lowered the flashlight. "Clever try, that Stark. He'd really be quite the asset to us, if we could convince him to join the cause."

"You promised to let the hostages go once you had me," Bucky said, though he knew his words were futile. Anything he could do to stall for time, however, could make all the difference for Pepper and Sam.

"Yes, I did, and eventually, we'll drop them off somewhere." Ivanov said. "Once they've outlived their usefulness, of course. You know how this works." He stared directly into Bucky's eyes, a smugness in his expression. "Admit that you came here not because you truly believed you were saving our hostages, but because there is a part of you that longs to return to the simplicity of the Soldier. The relief of only having to follow orders, of not thinking, not feeling, existing only with purpose—a mission, Hydra. No distractions. No complications. No messy emotions."

Bucky didn't give the man the satisfaction of a reply. After a few seconds, Ivanov shrugged and turned away. There was a safe against another wall. Ivanov unlocked it and removed the red book. Bucky was surprised they kept it and didn't just take photos of the pages. Maybe they'd found the tracker in the journal and decided the red book was safe. Either that, or they didn't want a digital copy of it anywhere.

The man opened it and walked back to Bucky. He began to read the words. On the second word, the backup ear devices sprang to action. The sound was like a knife through his skull. He rolled with the pain, deciding to put on a show.

"Stop. Please." Bucky could barely hear his own voice. He tried to sound genuine enough.

Ivanov smiled, but his mouth continued to move. Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, hoping he looked sufficiently distressed. He counted inwardly in his head for three beats, then opened his eyes. He read the last two words on the commander's lips, saw him mouth the word, "Soldat?"

The sound in his ears from the hidden devices vanished, but a faint ringing lingered. He looked straight ahead. "Gotov podchinit'sya." Ready to comply.

The words brought a touch of bile to the back of his throat. He saw Sam stiffen, heard the agonized, muffled words behind the tape over the Falcon's mouth.

Ivanov looked at Wilson. "Soldat, silence him."

Bucky knew if he hesitated, Ivanov would be on to him, but the order was ambiguous enough that he could follow it without causing Sam serious injury. He moved forward quickly, robotically, and punched Sam as hard as he could without risking permanent damage.

Blood instantly sprayed from Sam's face. Bucky was pretty sure he managed not to break the man's nose, but he'd split open his cheek. He hoped he hadn't fractured the bone underneath.

Sam looked back up at him, his dark eyes mixed with anger and pity. Bucky almost couldn't take it. He turned back to the Major General and clasped his hands behind his back.

"See," Ivanov said, walking in front of Bucky, "he will do anything we want him to now." Ivanov smiled at Bucky, eyeing him.

"Anything, huh?" the team leader asked.

On the outside, Bucky kept himself stiff and emotionless. Inside, his stomach churned, his heart pounded.

Keep it together, he told himself. Sam and Pepper depended on him playing the part perfectly.

"Yes, anything." Ivanov closed the book and returned it to the safe. "In fact, I hear a particular Colonel took a special interest in making the soldier his plaything for a while."

If they ordered him to do that, he told himself, he could get through it. Maybe. If not, then his only other option was to fight. They'd stripped him of his weapons, but all he needed was a moment of distraction and a gun. The odds of him fighting his way out and keeping Sam and Pepper alive, however, were slim.

"It's not my thing," the team leader said, "but to each their own. I'm into a different type." He jerked his chin toward Pepper.

Pepper's head snapped up to him. "A bit cliché, don't you think?"

The team leader smiled at her. "I've always enjoyed the classic techniques. Why stray from the tried and true?"

Ivanov smiled. "Pyatnadtsat' minut. Na litse net otmetin." Fifteen Minutes. No marks on the face.

Bucky's heart thundered in his chest. Shit. He saw the fear in Pepper's eyes as one of the guards untied her. She lashed out, but they easily subdued her, one of them laughing, then tied her hands behind her back again and shoved her toward the team leader.

Ivanov tilted his head toward Bucky. "Dayte soldatu povorot. Drugoye delo, chto u nego yest' povod zabyt'." Give the soldier a turn. It'll be another thing he has motive to forget.

The team leader eyed Bucky. "Khvatay yeye i sleduy za mnoy." Grab her and follow me.

Bucky didn't hesitate, grabbing Pepper's arm.

"Barnes," Pepper pleaded, "I know you're in there. Don't do this."

Bucky forced himself not to react. He kept the pressure gentle but tried to make his manhandling look convincing. He calculated the odds of grabbing a gun, taking out the Hydra agents in the room, and getting through the ones above successfully.

It was dismal. Alone, he could do it, but Sam and Pepper couldn't move anywhere near as quickly as he could.

The team leader opened a door in the far room. There was a desk and small bed inside. Bucky figured he could work with that, with just a little luck. As he entered the room with Pepper, behind the team leader, he closed the door.

The Hydra agent turned to him. "Keep the door—"

Bucky's metal hand whipped out, caving the front of the man's skull into his brain. He dropped, but Bucky caught him, keeping things quiet inside the room. Pepper's eyes went wide but, to her credit, she didn't make a sound.

He heard footsteps, then Ivanov's voice. "Door open!"

Bucky had to think fast. "Get on the bed," he whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry, we have to make this look real. I need a distraction."

She nodded and laid back on the bed. She was wearing a dress. That would make this easy. He couldn't waste time. He undid the dead man's pants and gently set him on top of Pepper.

He hated doing this, but it could be the distraction he needed.

He grabbed the dead man's guns. There were two, one in the hip holster the other in the ankle holster. He untied Pepper's hands, undid the safety on the ankle gun, and slapped it into her palm. He kept the other himself.

She started screaming, struggling, moving up and down so that it looked like the team leader was moving on top of her. Bucky opened the door and stood stiffly in the doorway, his hands clasped behind him, gun held in his right hand in the small of his back, facing outward.

Ivanov peeked around him, smiling, trying to catch a glimpse past him. Bucky put a single bullet through Ivanov's head, grabbed him with the metal arm before he fell, and held him in front of him as a shield as he leapt into the room, firing off steady shots. He heard two shots come from behind him and saw one of the guards drop. He barely glanced back at Pepper. She was crouched in the doorway, the gun in her hand, looking both terrified and determined at the same time.

Three of the men got off rounds before he was able to drop them. None of the shots hit him and, thankfully, none hit Sam. He quickly ripped the restraints off Sam and grabbed a couple more guns off the guards. He heard footsteps from above. They'd be easy marks if they came down the stairs. They'd probably toss a few grenades down first.

He moved to the far wall and put his metal fist through it. He had no idea what was on the other side, but it caved. The door at the top of the stairs opened.

"Go!"

Sam had collected a couple of guns for himself. Bucky grabbed his shirt and yanked him through the fresh opening. Pepper was right behind Sam.

A grenade bounced down the steps. Bucky dove through the hole. It was a large closet. The grenade went off, and he shielded Sam and Pepper. Something hard slammed into his left shoulder just above where metal met flesh, and he fell into his two charges, catching himself with his arms and keeping his body an inch above theirs to avoid crushing them. There was another blast, and a heavy object came down on his right leg.

He gritted his teeth and pushed himself up and out of the debris. Pepper and Sam were unharmed but groaning beneath him. He turned around just in time to catch a hard fist to the jaw. The impact almost knocked him out. He rolled, shook his head, and saw one of the bearded super soldiers from Hydra's death squad.

He could take the guy. He had before, but it would cost him time. He raised his gun and fired, but the man rolled out of the way, flinging a piece of crumbled drywall at him. Bucky punched it out of the way.

Behind Bucky, Sam started firing. Bucky threw off a few more shots. One of the bullets slammed into the bearded soldier's right shoulder before he could take cover. The soldier gave out an angry growl, and Bucky found himself slammed backward by the man. They sailed through the wall together, into another room with five armed guards that were already mobilizing.

Bucky landed hard with the soldier on top of him, the back of his head slamming against the floor. A powerful fist smashed into his left cheek. Then again. For a moment, his vision faded. He knew if he passed out, he was dead.

He managed to shove the other man off and scramble to his feet, but the room tilted away from him. A hard shove sent Bucky airborne. He twisted, and as the room spun around him, managed to catch himself on the wall and pushed back off as bullets rained around him. Several bounced off his metal arm. One sliced through his left side. He landed hard, rolled, and realized he no longer had the gun in his hand.

He launched himself toward the nearest guard, snapped the man's neck and used his body as shield as he grabbed the dead man's gun and started firing, but his vision was blurred and his aim crap. A red figure emerged from ceiling, floating downward, a shock of gold behind him.

It was Vision. Bucky could barely believe his eyes. An energy beam shot out from the android's head. The guards scrambled in all directions, but Vision made short work of most them as they fired at the android to no avail, dropping one by one from the energy beam's assault. The bearded soldier rolled, grabbed a fleeing guard, and used him as a shield against Vision. Bucky raised his gun, blinked to try to clear his vision, and aimed. He took the man out with one bullet in the right temple, just past the head of the body the soldier was using as a shield.

Bucky scanned the room, his gun at ready, but only Vision and he were left standing in the room. He spotted Pepper and Sam on the other side of the hole in the wall. The place was quiet.

Bucky stood there, panting, ignoring the ache in his skull. He tried to listen over the sound of his own frantic breaths. He heard nothing from above.

"I've taken care of the men above, and the Quinjet landed a moment ago," Vision said, his voice as polite as usual. "Forgive the delay. We had to risk pinging the locator in your arm to pinpoint the correct van. That caused a brief delay. Once I arrived, I neutralized most of the men above while attempting to minimize casualties."

Vision looked over at Pepper and Sam. "Are either of you injured?"

"I'm fine," Pepper said.

Sam touched his cheek gingerly with his right hand. The tape was still over his mouth, and he grabbed the edge, then tore it off. He favored his left shoulder and wobbled unsteadily on his feet.

"That hurt like hell," Sam winced, tossing the tape on the floor. "Jesus, Bucky, do you even realize you've been shot?"

Bucky looked down at the blood pouring from his left side. He barely felt the pain. He reached behind his back, felt the exit wound. The bullet had made a clean pass. He'd survive.

-0- -0- -0-

The directional mic Vision had placed did its job a little too well, Steve lamented silently. The sound came online in the middle of Ivanov's recitation of the code words. While Vision secured the perimeter, Tony, Natasha, Wanda, and he made their way to the Hydra base in the Quinjet, and they'd gotten an earful.

Steve almost wished he hadn't heard. He tried not to imagine what Ivanov had meant by "plaything," but he couldn't help it. Images played in his mind, turning his stomach.

God, Bucky….

Steve had no way of knowing what was going on with Bucky other than the bits of audio coming through the earpieces. He heard the command to silence Sam and the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh. When Natasha translated the Russian words, their timetable sped up drastically, and when he heard Pepper plead with Bucky, Steve's heart plummeted.

Had the earplugs failed or been discovered? There was no other explanation for why Bucky would help Hydra rape Pepper. Steve reached into his pocket and felt the failsafe detonator. He closed his eyes.

Please, God, don't make me have to use this.

Pepper started screaming while they were still one minute from the base. The expression on Tony's face had been agonizing to see.

Steve withdrew the detonator and stared at it through the blur of tears. If it was a choice between Bucky and Pepper, could he make that choice? Once the Winter Soldier revealed the failsafe subdermal implant, Hydra would remove it. Bucky would be theirs. If Hydra performed the planned the lobotomy, Bucky would be lost forever.

He couldn't let that happen to his friend. He'd made a promise—one he hoped he had the strength to keep. It wasn't time yet. They still had a chance to save all three, and he wouldn't give up that chance. Steve slipped the detonator back into his pocket.

They landed in darkness a moment after Vision announced he was heading to the lower level to assist Barnes and the hostages. The android declared that he dispatched most of the visible guards, but there were three remaining that they knew of. He advised caution. There was no telling whether more were positioned out of sight.

That word of caution turned out to be fortuitous. When the Quinjet opened, they were met with gunfire from a dark-skinned super soldier. The bullets bounced harmlessly off Tony's suit and Steve's shield. The man moved fast, evading return fire. It took Steve and Tony two precious minutes to neutralize him while Wanda and Natasha took care of the two remaining visible guards.

They finally entered the garage to see Pepper coming through the doorway from the lower level. Tony deactivated the helmet of his suit and rushed forward, putting a metal hand on her cheek. "Are you okay? I heard… God, Pepper, are you—"

Sam came through the doorway next. Natasha steered him to the side, examining his cheek. Bucky followed, barefoot, dressed in an ill-fitting pair of pants that were too short and couldn't quite zip all the way. He was splattered with dust and blood, his left cheek split open, and a wound on his left side oozed more blood.

"Barnes! I heard it all. How the hell could you let that happen?" There was fury in Tony's voice. He lunged forward, activating his glove and sending Bucky hurtling ten feet backward. Bucky landed with a hard thud.

"Tony!" Steve launched himself between the men, keeping his eye on Bucky, still not sure which Bucky he was dealing with. "He took a hit. Stop it!"

"Damnit, Tony!" Pepper was in front of Stark. "It was fake, a distraction. He killed—" her voice wavered on that word, "—the man before he ever touched me."

Steve gave into a relieved sigh at Pepper's confirmation that Bucky was still in control of his mind. Crouching next to Bucky, Steve said a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn't had to use the failsafe switch. He wasn't sure he could've lived with that decision, despite his promise.

Steve putting a restraining hand on his chest as Bucky tried to pick himself up. "Take it easy, buddy."

A look of stunned regret washed instantly over Tony's face. His dark eyes darted between Pepper and Bucky. Bucky was pushing himself off the floor, his arm clamped over the wound in his left side. He stared at Tony, uncertain, almost apologetic.

"I'm sorry." Tony sputtered. "I'm sorry. I let my emotions get the better of me." He ran a hand over his face. "Jesus, what a day."

Bucky was on his feet, leaning against the wall. "You don't owe me an apology for anything."

Tony nodded. "Yes, I do. I lost my cool. What I should be saying is thank you."

"We done here?" Sam asked. He was seated on the floor with Natasha in front of him, cleaning up his face.

"How's your head, Wilson?" Bucky muttered.

"It's better than it would be had it taken a bullet, so thank you." Sam answered. "You wanna tell me why you didn't turn into the Winter Soldier? You sure had me convinced there for a few minutes."

"Backup earplugs," Bucky muttered. "Smaller."

"Gutsy move." Sam pushed himself to his feet and waved off Natasha. "Thanks, Nat. I'll live."

Steve eyed the blood pouring over Bucky's borrowed pants from beneath the arm wrapped around his left side. "We need to get you into the jet, stop the bleeding."

"How much did you hear?" Bucky asked, his voice low, his eyes telling Steve exactly what he was asking.

Steve answered in a low voice. "It came online while Ivanov was reciting the code words. I'm sorry, Buck…sorry that you ever had to be put in this position again."

Bucky stumbled away, toward the open garage door and the waiting Quinjet, dripping blood with each step. Steve wasn't sure how much he'd lost, but he was pretty sure the bullet wound wasn't fatal. It was the blood loss and physical strain from the last few hours that worried Steve.

It was dark outside. They'd never gotten dinner, but Steve doubted anyone was in the mood for food. His own stomach was in knots. It was going to be a long night.

He followed a few steps behind Bucky, watching his friend closely. Sam and Natasha fell into step alongside him. Tony and Pepper were next, and Vision and Wanda took the rear.

Bucky walked unsteadily, favoring his left side, and Steve thought as he noticed a slight limp, possibly his right leg. Bucky probably had injuries he wasn't even fully aware of yet, not until the adrenaline wore off.

Sam leaned closer to Steve as they walked and whispered, "Leave him be for now."

Steve glanced at Sam and gave an acknowledging nod. It was easier said than done, but he knew Sam had more experience dealing with these types of issues. He'd follow the man's lead for now.

It took everything he had not to put his arm around Bucky and help him up the ramp to the Quinjet, especially when he watched Bucky stumble at the top and catch himself on the metal doorway with his right hand. It was obvious Bucky's tank was about empty.

Bucky dropped to his knees with a loud clatter against the metal deck. His right hand went to his chest, and he twisted his head back to look at them, his eyes wide with alarm.

"Steve…" Bucky crumpled backward, rolling down the ramp.

Steve leapt forward, catching Bucky halfway and dragging him to the ground. "Bucky?"

He placed his fingers against Bucky's neck. "No pulse."

"The implant." Tony was on his knees next to Bucky. "How?"

Panicked horror gripped Steve and he felt the detonator in his pocket. "Could I have activated it accidentally? Or could it have malfunctioned and gone off?"

Dear God. The room spun.

"I will check below," Vision's calm voice announced. "It is possible we have missed something or someone." He disappeared through the floor.

"Let me." Wanda moved forward, her hands glowing bright red, and she sent an orb of energy into Bucky's chest.

Steve heard signs of a struggle in his earpiece. Vision had obviously found someone or something. Then an unfamiliar voice yelled. "The Winter Soldier belongs to Hydra. We make sure our weapons do not fall into enemy hands. Hail Hydra!"

Steve's clenched his hands. He wanted to smash his fist into the man behind the words, but he dared not leave Bucky's side. He watched Wanda work and held his breath.

Her face twisted with concentration, and the energy pulsed with bright twines of energy. Bucky's entire body arched. Seconds later, the energy vanished, and Bucky went limp.

Steve placed two more fingers against Bucky's neck. "Still no pulse."

Come on, Buck. It wasn't supposed to end this way….

Vision's voice sounded in my ear. "I have secured two more Hydra agents below behind a false wall. They have a laptop that was able to access the cardiac implant in Sergeant Barnes' chest. I am on my way to the surface now."

Steve closed his eyes at the sliver of hope that news brought. The overload device hadn't been triggered, which meant Bucky's heart was stopped, but hopefully not damaged. He leaned over Bucky and started chest compressions.

Moments later, Vision came through the doorway. He carried two unconscious men in one hand and a closed laptop in another. Vision deposited the men at Natasha's feet, then set the laptop in front of Tony's crouched figure.

"The software is still running." Vision's gaze went to Bucky's still body.

Steve kept up the compressions.

"I'm going to see if we have epinephrine in the med kit," Natasha announced, her footsteps sounding quickly on the metal ramp to the Quinjet.

Tony opened the laptop, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "Come on…" He retracted the iron glove and quickly slipped a small device on the corner of the laptop. "You're all mine now," he muttered.

Bucky's body spasmed, and Steve stopped compressions. Another spasm jolted Bucky. Then a third. A steady beeping sounded from the laptop, and Steve placed his fingers against the side of Bucky's neck.

"He's got a pulse." Relief drained the strength from Steve, and he crumpled forward to the floor next to Bucky.

Steve placed his hand on Bucky's chest and felt the shallow rise and fall. "Thank you."

Tony sat back and scrubbed a shaky hand over his face. "You're welcome." Pepper knelt next to him, her hand on his arm.

Bucky groaned. "Ow…" His eyes fluttered open.

Steve kept his hand on Bucky and leaned over him. "Hey there." Steve's eyes were wet as he smiled down at his friend. "You had a close call."

Three large, black SUVs arrived, their tires crunching to a halt on the gravely pavement outside.

"Cleanup crew has arrived. Let's get out of here," Tony said.

Steve agreed. He just wanted to get everyone back to the compound. He and Tony helped Bucky upright, each one taking an arm and carrying him up the ramp. Bucky's feet were beneath him, and he managed to help support some of his weight until they got him inside. They lowered him to the floor between the ramp and cockpit, and he leaned like a ragdoll against the wall. The others filled the Quinjet and the door closed behind them.

Vision handed Steve the red book, and he took it with a grateful nod. If not for the information inside that might help Bucky, Steve would burn it.

Sam sat down beside Steve, his gaze lingering on Bucky for a few moments before going to the red book. Vision and Wanda took up positions across from them. Natasha was their pilot for the ride home.

Bucky stayed on the floor against the wall between the ramp and the cockpit, his head tilted back. He never once looked at Steve or anyone else. His arm stayed clutched around his side.

Pepper sat next to Tony. He was out of the suit now, his right arm wrapped around her shoulders. She, too, eyed Bucky periodically, then Steve. Steve recognized the unspoken concern in her eyes.

Even Tony kept casting furtive, apologetic glances Bucky's way.

Bucky didn't seem to notice, or at least, he refused to acknowledge that he was aware of the attention. Steve eyed the pool of blood by Bucky's left side and went to the med storage cabinet in the rear of the craft. He pulled out a basic first aid kit and crouched near Bucky. The other man didn't move, and his glazed eyes stared at the ceiling. The bullet wound wouldn't kill Bucky. Steve had survived worse, and he knew Bucky had, as well, but the blood loss could do a number on him.

Quietly, Steve set about putting pressure on the wound to slow the flow of blood. Bucky didn't move—not even a flinch—and that worried Steve. Fortunately, they'd be back at the complex soon.

-0- -0- -0-

By the time Bucky felt the Quinjet land, he was spent. The pants he'd recommissioned from one of the fallen Hydra soldiers were too tight, and the unforgiving material dug into his groin and hips. He knew he needed to move, but his head felt light, and the throbbing in his skull turned his stomach. His whole body hurt. His side was on fire, his left shoulder ached, the back of his right calf throbbed, and his chest felt like someone was sitting on it. His muscles felt like cooked spaghetti.

He just didn't want to move. He kept his head tilted back against the hard, cool metal and his eyes closed while he listened to the voices around him, the footsteps disembarking, and Steve's firm voice directing people, asking for a med assist.

Bucky was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of the utter madness of humanity. Tired of trying to hold the pieces of himself together.

He heard heavy footsteps against the floor—too heavy to be anyone but Steve. Bucky felt Steve settle beside him, the thick material of his uniform barely brushing against Bucky's right arm.

"You don't have to function right now," Steve said, and Bucky recognized the words from before, in his room. "There's nothing you need to do," Steve continued, "except let us get you patched up. We can stay here for as long as you need, or until you pass out from blood loss."

Bucky huffed at that, but it came out dangerously close to a sob and caused the pain in his side to flare. He kept his eyes closed. The darkness was a comfort.

Every single fucking member of the Avengers heard Ivanov. They knew what a pathetic thing Hydra made of him. A slave that obeyed every order without question. A piece of equipment stored in a freezer whenever it wasn't needed. A weapon. A toy.

The Hydra team leader was right. He had no goddamned dignity left. He didn't realize he was crying until he tasted the salty tears on his lips.

He felt Steve's arm slide slowly, almost tentatively across his shoulders. He didn't have the strength or desire to move, but he tried to imagine he was back in Brooklyn, at a Dodger's game, smelling sweat and hot dogs, hearing the cheers as the Dodger's scored a hit, draping his arm across Steve's small shoulders in a celebration.

He felt himself slipping into oblivion, welcomed it, and carried that image with him.

-0- -0- -0-

Steve guided the stretcher into the Quinjet. He kept telling himself that Bucky would be okay. Steve had survived three bullets, one in the gut, and a significant dunk in the river. Bucky survived being nearly crushed by a metal beam, along with an avalanche, numerous bullet wounds probably in his time, and a fall from a train.

Steve helped the two med assistants lift Bucky onto the stretcher and strap him in. He'd met them only recently. The young man with the glasses was Rick Thomas. The tall woman with curly blond hair she always kept in a messy bun was Sally…something. He didn't think he'd ever gotten her last name.

Sally placed an oxygen mask over Bucky's nose and mouth. The soft hiss of the air was audible even over the wheels of the stretcher as they rolled it down the ramp, across the tarmac, and into the complex. Doctors Abodon and Cho met them, and Steve followed the group up to the lab.

The two doctors removed Bucky's borrowed pants and draped a sheet over him. Dr. Abodon inspected the bullet wound, and Cho readied her regeneration cradle. The full one was finally finished. It looked a lot like the one with which she'd created Vision—a sizable metal coffin.

They examined him quickly and efficiently together, cataloguing wounds, checking his pupils, making verbal notes into FRIDAY's database. Dr. Abodon grabbed a scalpel and asked the med techs to lift Bucky on his side. They lifted him, grunting slightly, and Dr. Abodon made quick work of removing the geolocation sensor behind Bucky's knee. He made another quick slice to the left side of Bucky's chest and removed the dime-sized overload device.

Steve was happy to have that thing out of Bucky and even happier they never used it, but they'd still almost lost Bucky to that damn cardiac implant. That was the thing that really needed to come out. When the medical team finished, Steve helped Dr. Cho move Bucky into the new regeneration cradle. It was like trying to maneuver a bag of wet cement.

"He'll be fine," Dr. Cho smiled up at Steve. "The bullet wound is already starting to heal. He's got a concussion and, I think, a couple of fractures. The regeneration cradle will take care of the bullet wound and the incision marks. It'll also do a full body scan and give us some internal imaging. We'll be able to see if there's any damage to his heart."

Steve nodded. "Thank you. How long?"

Dr. Cho smiled. "With this new cradle, a few minutes for the scan, and another few minutes for the repairs."

Eight minutes later, Steve was looking at the large screen in front of Dr. Cho, next to the cradle. It was a schematic of Bucky's body, showing organs and areas of injury. Steve stared at the nickel-sized device nestled on Bucky's heart and felt his anger rising. He looked at the smaller thumbnail image inside the regeneration cradle, showing Bucky's still form, and reminded himself that they'd gotten lucky. They couldn't keep relying on luck. The implant had to come out sooner rather than later.

"The heart looks undamaged, so that's the good news." Dr. Cho pointed to a point high on the left shoulder. "There's some internal damage here that the heavy arm is putting stress on. It'll heal on its own. I don't think it's worth surgery or the cradle to repair, but he'll need to keep the arm supported for a day or two."

Something blinked red on the monitor. Steve noticed movement from the image of Bucky.

"Open it up," Steve ordered quickly. The last thing they needed was Bucky waking up disoriented inside a metal coffin and trying to punch his way out. Too much time and money had already been spent reconstructing the new cradle.

Dr. Cho quickly tapped a button on the control panel and the cradle's lid slid open. Bucky's metal hand came out, gripping the side of the opening, and he pulled himself upward, grunting with pain. The momentary wide-eyed look in Bucky's eyes told Steve he'd made the right call just in the nick of time.

"It's okay, buddy, you're in the regeneration cradle." Steve hurried forward. "Dr. Cho just completed a scan. If you lay back down, she can finish up the repairs—fix that bullet wound and the incision marks where they removed the implants."

Bucky's eyes scanned the room, hovering over Dr. Cho near the panel and Abodon at the other end of the cradle. The two med techs were at a bench, typing at a computer, doing their part to look absorbed in their work.

Bucky finally nodded and sank back into the cradle.

"I'm going to close the lid," Dr. Cho said. "The regeneration process should take no more than fifteen minutes. If you want out at any time during that, please just tap lightly on the lid. I just finished constructing this machine, and it's very expensive."

"Understood," Bucky said from inside the cradle. "I'll try not to break it."

-0- -0- -0-

Author's Note:

I love hearing your reactions to these chapters, so don't be shy! Happy weekend, everyone.