The Secrets That We Have
Bucky was gone again; taken by HYDRA agents. After saving him the first time, he had agreed to join the Howling Commandos. For the last year, we had been destroying HYDRA bases and collecting intel on what they were building. Peggy Carter assured me that we were making progress and helping with the war effort. None of that mattered at this moment.
"We'll find him, Cap!" Dugan said, slapping my shoulder.
"I know," I mumbled.
Finding the base had been easy enough as it had done it a dozen times. The problem was not bringing the whole place down. Following a lead, we were certain that Bucky - and possibly other POWs - were inside. Similar to last time, they were using the POWs to build their creations, however, unlike then, no one had been taken to an isolation ward. One of the men, who didn't look a day over twenty, had mentioned hearing screams. I ran to the room he had pointed to. I kicked the door and it broke off the hinges, landing on the floor loudly. It was a long hallway with cages lining both walls. Most of them were filled with dead or dying soldiers. At the end of the hall there was a metal door.
"That is where they keep it," one man said, coughing.
"Keep what?" I asked.
"The Soldier. No one is allowed back there except some lab coats and a few of them sons of bitches."
"Okay. Thanks. Follow the others out." I started to walk away.
He grabbed my sleeve, getting my attention.
"You don't save that. It's a monster. I've seen it. In battle. It's not human. It's a demone."
"I have to try."
"Your funeral." He shrugged and left.
Struggling, I managed to break in and get inside. When I did, I noticed a few things right away. For one, I noticed that the room was completely dark, only being luminated by the light behind me. Secondly, I smelt blood, sweat, and urine. Thirdly, I could hear the sound of someone mumbling from the back of the room. Running over there, I found something that haunted my nightmares. Bucky chained to a table.
"Bucky?" I said, breaking the shackles with my bare hands.
"Steve? Told them. I told them." He shook his head a little.
"Yeah. I'm here. Let me help you up."
I broke the one around his ankles and went to assist him.
"No!" He said, loudly. "I mean, I can do it."
"You are hurt."
"No, just tired. I can walk by myself."
I stepped toward him and he stepped backward.
"Alright. Let's go. Everyone is waiting for us."
"Who?" He asked, following me.
"The Howlies. Who else?"
"Don't know." I saw his shoulders shrug. "Just making conversation."
"We'll talk when we get back to camp."
"Sure."
Before leaving the room, Bucky stopped outside of the light.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Um, the others…they are afraid of me."
"And?" I remembered the man's warning. For a second, I saw Schmidt's red and deformed face. Was Bucky like that?
"They won't be too happy to see me."
"So? I am."
"I just need a disguise."
I heard shuffling and the sound of another door opening. There had been a side room.
"Bucky?" I called.
"One minute!"
"Okay."
Waiting for him, I remembered Bucky getting ready for dates. Never thought that I would be doing this in the middle of a war zone. Amused, I watched Bucky step out into the light and I saw him for the first time. His entire body was covered; his neck, arms, and hands. On his head, he had on a cap that was pulled down over his eyes. All I could see was his nose and mouth.
"Self-conscious, Barnes?" I asked.
"Shut up!"
"Sorry," I mumbled.
As we walked through the facility, I looked him over. He was walking weird, meaning he probably had some type of injury on his left side. His gloved hands kept clenching and unclenching. I saw the muscles in his jaw twitching. Why was he so tense? Did he really care what the other prisoners thought of him? Did this have to do with the other man calling him a demon? A monster? He said he had seen him in battle. Did Bucky try to escape the facility and kill one of the other prisoners by accident? That would make sense. That had to be it.
Stepping out of the facility, Bucky tensed at the sunlight shining down. When had he seen the sun last? He's been gone for three months. So, three months then. Staying mostly behind me, we walked to where the Howlies were standing.
"Sarge!" Dernier called out.
"Took you long enough, Cap. What were you doing? Goofing off?" Jones said.
Falsworth moved to hug Bucky, but his hand shot out, touching the man's chest.
"Woah!"
"I don't swing that way, pal."
"Cute one, Sarge." Falsworth stepped back and rolled his eyes.
As Bucky stumped past them, I saw him rub his chest, meaning it hadn't been a casual or gentle touch. He hadn't wanted me to touch him in the facility either and choose to cover his entire body. Was he covering up injuries, wanting to seem fine?
"Let's go!" Dum Dum yelled.
Bucky jumped into the car behind him and I slid in beside him. Our thighs touched, but he didn't jerk away. His left arm was curled around his side, meaning that he was definitely hurt. Was it his leg, arm, or side? All three?
"We have a long journey," I said. "Let's get going."
Dum Dum drove the car while Bucky, Jones, and I rode inside. The rest of the Howlies marched behind with the rest of the POWs. I felt a little guilty riding in a car, but I didn't want to leave Bucky's side. He had been through something once again and I worried. Why was he taken and strapped to a table a second time?
As we drove, Bucky curled up against the car door, protecting his left side. He stared out the window, ignoring all of us.
"You good, Sarge?" Jones asked.
"Hmm," he grunted out.
"Can barely tell that it's you with all of that," Dum Dum said, glancing in the rearview mirror.
"It's me."
"If you say so." He shrugged, but he meant my eyes. I nodded at him letting me know that it was Bucky and I knew he was acting weird also.
"Are you sure you're okay? You're not hurt?" I asked.
"I'm fine."
"You were gone for three months."
"Three months?" Bucky seemed confused by that.
"Yeah."
I didn't ask anymore questions because we were cramped in a car. He wouldn't like all of the attention and I didn't want them to hear some things. For one, he was kept separate from the rest of the prisoners and they were scared of him. Even though all of us were close, I didn't want to know personal things about Bucky and to see him differently. As we trucked along, I thought of how to ask my questions and to avoid that one prisoner from having a fit when he realized who Bucky was.
"You good, Captain?" Jones asked, noticing my nerves.
"Yeah. I'm gonna walk with the soldiers. Feels selfish to ride in a car."
"Right." He rolled his eyes, knowing how I was.
The car slowed a little bit and I opened the door, stepping out. I found the rest of the Howlies and joined them.
"Is he okay?" Morita asked. He was the one with the most medical training amongst us.
"He says so, but I think he has an injury on his left side," I admitted.
"Yeah, but he isn't going to let us help." Falsworth stepped closer.
"Right. He wouldn't even let me help him up."
"So, what did you find?" He asked.
"Just the soldiers in cages. Bucky was in the last one." I shrugged.
"You're a lousy liar, Cap," Morita said.
"I'm not lying." I felt my cheek heat up, giving me away.
"We just want to help. You can trust us."
"I know, but it's kind of confusing. I don't have all of the information. I'll share when I do."
"Sure, Captain."
The two of them dropped it, so I was grateful. I knew they were worried about their friend, but I couldn't help but feel paranoid. Had the man said something that made them ask? Had other prisoners expressed their opinions on the mystery prisoner? Could I handle it if there was a riot?
Shaking my head, I focused on getting back to camp. Luckily, it wasn't too far away, like last time. We made it back to camp, who were used to me and Howlies bringing home 'strays' as Colonel Phillips called them. Morita took the soldiers to the med tent. Bucky jumped out of the truck and waved Jones off. I jogged up to him.
"Bucky?" I said. He jumped. "Sorry."
"It's okay. Tired is all."
"Really?" I reached out to touch his left arm and he took a step back.
"Just some bad bruises. Nothing broken."
Due to the hat, I couldn't see most of his face. It made me miss him for some reason. With how he was covered up and acting, it felt almost like he was a ghost and wasn't here. Not really.
"I believe you. Would you like something to eat?"
He had to be hungry and I wondered what they fed him. His body looked the same as always, which was surprising. The rest of the soldiers were skinny and frail from going weeks without eating. It was clear that Bucky had been fed and the fact confused me. Why was he in a room by himself and fed? If I didn't know him and hadn't seen the room, I would wonder if he had defected. Would the Howlies think that?
"No," he shook his head. "I just need sleep."
"Understandable. You can stay in my tent. It's that one." I pointed to it.
"Thanks."
"No problem."
I watched as he limped off, still holding his left arm close to his side. As he disappeared inside, I heard footsteps behind me.
"You're worried about him," Peggy said.
"Very."
"Why?"
"There is a lot that doesn't make sense and I'm starting to wonder who I can trust." I glanced over at her.
"Are you wondering about me?" She managed to not sound offended.
"I'm wondering about everyone."
"Even Bucky?" she asked, getting my hidden meaning.
"A little."
"You can trust me." She stepped in front of me and looked me in the eye. "I can walk you through it. Help where I can. You can't do everything alone, Steve."
"He was kept in a different room," I started.
"Away from everyone else?"
"Yeah. When I went to open the door, one of the prisoners stopped me. An Italian man. He was scared of Bucky, calling him a monster and a demon. He said he wasn't worth saving." My eyes watered and I took a deep breath. "What confused me was that he had seen him in battle. As in, in the last three months. I have a few theories."
"Which are?" She asked, patiently.
"One, that he tried to escape and accidentally killed another prisoner. Sort of a friendly fire situation."
"But?"
"He seems hurt, but looks fed. None of the other prisoners were. Why would they feed him, but not the others?"
"If they were experimenting on him, they might want him physically healthy and strong."
"Right. He won't let no one touch him, well, not his left side."
"You said he might be injured."
"Then why not go to the med tent?" I asked, letting her answers comfort me.
"He's stubborn and probably isn't ready to admit what happened."
"Could be. He knew that the prisoners were scared of him. Wanted a disguise."
"That's why he is all covered up." By her tone, I could tell that she had wondered about it also.
"He wouldn't step into the light. He didn't even want me to see his face."
"Really?"
"I know it's dumb, but I thought about Schmidt."
"Schmidt?" She pressed.
"Yeah. We know HYDRA has been trying to replicate the serum. What if they did, but the wrong one?"
"You think Bucky isn't Bucky?"
"I don't know what to think!" I said, loudly. "I'm scared!"
"I know, Steve. I'll admit. It doesn't sound good. You might need to talk to that prisoner and Sergeant Barnes. For now, go check on him. See that it is him. Be happy to have him back, even if it isn't in the form you would like." Her eyes scanned my body, reminding me that I had changed also. "Barnes is a good man and your best friend."
Taking a deep breath, I headed to my tent. Bucky was sprawled out across the bed roll. He had taken off his boots and the hat, allowing me to see his face. His face was bruised and the pattern was familiar. It was the same bruises that had been on his face back at the Azzano factory. Whatever they were trying to do there, they had continued it in those three months. What was it that they were trying to do?
Before I could speculate further, Bucky started twitching and mumbling. He was having a nightmare. I went to the right side of him and touched his shoulder. Right as my fingertips made contact, Bucky shot up and swung wildly. I dodged out of the way and watched as his eyes darted around, seeing something else.
"Bucky! It's me, Steve. You're safe."
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Bad dream."
"I can see that. Want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"You need to eat and drink," I said. "I can go get you something and bring it here if you don't feel up to walking around."
"You don't have to." His eyes landed on my chest, not looking at my face.
"I want to. Besides, I'm starving. Serum and all."
"Right."
"I'll be right back."
As quickly as I could without drawing attention to myself, I grabbed two servings of food and went back to the tent. Standing outside it, I heard Bucky mumbling.
"Sergeant Barnes. 325… My name is Sergeant Barnes. Barnes."
I took a few steps back and called out.
"You decent?"
"Um, yeah!"
Using my elbows, I pushed inside and set one of the trays in front of him. He pushed it around a little, but started to eat. I ate slowly as I watched him.
"How are the bruises?" I wondered.
"The what?" His eyes shot to my face.
"Bruises. On your left side."
"Oh, still sore, but better."
"You need to move that arm or it will lock that way." I gestured to it with my fork. He hadn't moved it from his side.
"Right. Maybe later."
"Sure."
It was silent for a few more beats and he set the tray on the ground.
"Thanks for letting me sleep here. I'll go find my own bedroll now."
He stood up with no difficulty.
"You can stay here if you want. I don't see why I have a tent to myself anyways."
"No." Bucky shook his head. "It's fine."
"If you change your mind…" I trailed off.
He left the tent and I sat there. This wasn't making me feel any better. Did Bucky really have trouble remembering his own name or was he just tired? He definitely didn't remember his rank number. Hearing him struggling made my heart break. What had they done to him? Following Peggy's advice, I left in search of the only lead that I had.
"Captain." The Italian man nodded.
"What's your name, soldier?" I asked.
"Antonio Rossi, sir."
"What can you tell me about The Soldier?" I sat down across from him. "The one that was kept in that room."
"What do you want to know?"
"Why was he kept in there and not with the rest?" I tried to phrase my questions in the past tense, like the man in question hadn't just been sleeping in my tent.
"Not sure. As soon as they brought it, the scientists took a special interest in it."
"Why did you call him a monster, a demon?" I asked, ignoring the lack of the word 'he' or 'him'.
"Because that's what it is."
"You said you saw him in battle. When? How?"
"A few weeks ago, they brought it out. No one had seen it, just heard it's screams. They sounded unnatural, like its vocal cords were ripping." His tone turned to one of fear as if he was talking about an urban legend, not a man. "It was in all black clothing, all I could see was it's eyes. They were blank as if no one was in there."
"Why only his eyes? The bottom half of his face was covered?" I asked. That was the only place of Bucky that he seemed okay to show.
"Yeah. In a crude metal mask. They dragged it down the hall and out the door. For a few minutes, all of us sat there in silence, staring at each other. Then a guard came and grabbed me. Asked if I wanted to see a show."
"A show?" Dread was starting to grow in my chest, making it hard to breathe. For a quick moment, I wondered if I was about to have an asthma attack.
"Yeah. The guard asked me if I wanted to see 'the Fist of Hydra'. I said yes and he seemed pleased. I was dragged into another room. It was wide open with chairs on a ledge, near the ceiling. Like an opera house, but without the lower seats. The guard sat next to me, saying nothing, just keeping his gun trained on my head. The door below opened and they dragged some man out. I didn't recognize him and didn't know where they had gotten him. The Soldier came out next."
"Then what?" I asked, wondering what they had made Bucky do.
"The guard stood up and saw something in Russian. Suddenly, the pair of them were in motion. The man was quick and armed, but it didn't matter. The Soldier killed him. It bashed his head in."
I couldn't imagine Bucky doing that and doing it willingly.
"After that, what happened next?"
"The guard stood up and barked out orders. The Soldier, it stopped. Like a puppet on strings, it fell. The guards from earlier came and took it away. They took me to my cell and I told the others what had happened. Every day, they would take another soldier to watch the fight. Then, it came around to my turn again and I saw it kill another person."
"What happened to him after the fights? The Soldier?"
"It would be dragged through the hall again and go back into the room. There, it would scream again."
"Could it be that he was forced to do the fights?" I asked, feeling as if I might pass out or throw up.
"No. I would die before I did that. Why do you ask about The Soldier?" He gave me a look like he knew that I had saved him and brought him with me.
"Because it was dead," I said, not wanting to associate The Soldier with Bucky anymore. "Shot in the head. Point blank. I had a spy go in first to check the place. When I opened the door, he was there and claimed that it was asleep. He shot it."
"A spy? Didn't know Captain America had spies."
"Just one, really. Bucky Barnes."
"The kid in the hat?" He asked.
"Yeah. Apparently seeing The Soldier and the other things in the room spooked him."
"Claimed it was asleep? Didn't think it slept."
"Maybe it does," I shrugged.
I hoped that he believed me. The Howlies knew I was a terrible liar. This man didn't know me, so I prayed that he didn't see past me. Would Captain America lie to soldiers? The people he was meant to save and protect? No, but Steve Rogers would.
Shaken by the conversation, I stumbled back to the tent. Bucky wasn't there and I was desperate to find him. I didn't plan on confronting him, but I had to make sure that he was okay. What did they do to him to make him kill people? Why did he struggle to remember his rank number and possibly his name? Why did he scream? I searched the entire campe, pretending to check in on everyone. I found Bucky propped up against a tree, smoking a cigarette. Staying back, I watched him. He looked like the Bucky that I remembered.
"Sergeant Barnes. 325…328…3258. No." He shook his head and took a long drag of the cigarette. "He called me Bucky. Sergeant Bucky Barnes. What is Bucky short for?"
I was horrified at what I had heard. Did he really not remember any of that? Did he only remember Sergeant Barnes because that was what the other soldiers told him? As quiet as possible, I left him leaning up against the tree in peace. I ran into Morita.
"Are you okay, Cap? He reached out and touched my shoulder.
"Yeah. Bad dream. Tired to take a nap." I shook my head.
"Happens to all of us. Have you seen Barnes?"
"Why?" I tensed, wondering if he had heard the stories. The stories that all of the soldiers had.
"Um, I wanted to see if I could convince him to get some medical treatment. He's still injured and no one has seen him in hours." I could see that he was concerned. "What's going on, Cap?"
"I'm really worried about him," I admitted. "This is the second time."
"I know. I get it. He's your best friend. But give him some time. It will get better. It didn't last time."
"Right." I forced my body to relax and I smiled. "Thanks, Jim. You're the best."
"Don't let Dum Dum hear you."
"Of course."
He walked off and I went back to my tent. Trying to distract myself, I started to draw, not really paying attention to what my hands were doing. As a while, I looked down and I stared in horror. I had sketched Bucky, like I often did as he was the only muse I had around me. However, unlike my other drawings, this one was of The Soldier. His hair was stuck to his forehead and his blank stare bored into my soul. Was this how I saw him?
"Steve?" I jumped, slamming the notebook. "Sorry."
"It's okay, Buck. I just got lost in my head."
"Looked like you saw a ghost." His voice was low and tired.
"No, just drew one." I smiled. "Feeling any better?"
"I am. Found a bedroll. Want to give you my status report before I head to bed."
"Status report?" I had never heard that expression.
"Um," he looked down, but I could see that he looked angry. "Yeah. I wanted to tell you that I was good, so you don't have to worry."
"I'll always worry about you, Bucky."
"Right."
I wasn't sure what my goal was, but I got an idea. I wanted to see what he remembered.
"Haven't got a letter from my ma," I started. "Moving around so much, it probably gets lost."
"Sorry. Hopefully you'll hear from her soon."
He nodded and left the tent. Bucky didn't even remember that my ma had died in '36. He didn't remember his name, his rank number, and who knows what else. The only thing he seemed to remember was my first name and that I would save him. 'Told them. I told them' he had said. Was his memory getting better or worse? Would they ever come back? What was I supposed to do?
Haunted and more fearful than I had ever been, I laid down and stared up, not taking anything in.
…
"Kill him!" A man yelled out in a German accent.
I looked up and saw Red Skull sitting up. He was smiling and pointing at me. My eyes darted around the room and I saw Bucky marching toward me. He was in a black leather suit, covering him from his neck down to his boots. Even his hands were covered in leather and his lower face had a shiny metal mask with the HYDRA symbol stamped in red on it.
"Bucky! It's me!"
Not listening, he kicked him in the chest and I went flying into the wall. Hearing it cracked, me and some chunks of concrete landed on the ground. Bucky marched and grabbed me by the throat, holding me up in the air with one hand.
"Buck," I croaked out.
His other hand grabbed the mask and ripped it off. The lower part of his face was terrifying. The skin looked stretched thin and his teeth were pointed, with saliva dripping down his chin. Growling, his hand tightened around my throat. If I could, I would have screamed. Instead, I died.
"Captain Rogers!" A voice yelled. "Cap!"
I was being shaken. My eyes landed on Jones' face. He looked worried.
"Jones?"
"You were having a nightmare. Calling out for Barnes." He let go of me and stepped back.
"I was?"
"Yeah. I was on my way to patrol when I heard you."
"Sorry."
"It's fine. We all have nightmares and you just rescued Barnes again. It's bound to get to you."
"I'm the one who was strapped to a table," I mumbled.
"Right."
"Where is he? Bucky?" I had to see him. I had to see him looking normal instead of looking like that.
"Not sure. Thought he stayed in your tent."
"What? He told me he had found a place to sleep?"
"Well, it wasn't with any of us. And I doubt that he would sleep with the other prisoners."
"Why do you doubt it?"
"Because he didn't seem close to them. Avoided them like the plague. Wonder why."
"Don't worry about it. He can't bond with every prisoner he meets," I said, not wanting him to ask around.
"Okay." He shrugged. "Well, I'm going on patrol. Pretty sure Falsworth and his sensitive ass would appreciate it."
"Yeah. I'm gonna walk around. Look for Bucky."
"Sure. Be careful, Cap."
"Will do."
It didn't take me long to find Bucky. He had dragged a bedroll out to the edge of woods as far away from the camp as possible. He was bundled up, with only his face showing; his breath floating around his head like smoke. His face looked normal. Sitting down, I watched him, feeling comforted by the normal sight. A couple of hours later, he started moaning in his sleep.
"Buck?" I whispered, easing closer to him. "Wake up!"
"No," he mumbled, starting to jerk in his sleep. Both arms moved with no difficulty.
"Bucky!"
"Don't touch me!"
Following that, I didn't get closer nor did I reach out to him.
"Bucky, it's me. Steve!"
He shot up, gasping and holding his chest with both hands. His eyes scanned his surroundings before landing on me. I watched as his eyes narrowed.
"Watching me sleep like a creep, huh?" He asked.
"I'm worried."
"Nothing to be worried about." He sat up and propped himself up on a tree.
"Yeah there is!" I snapped. "You've been gone for three months! I was scared that you were dead. Again!"
"Well, I wasn't. Again."
"And I know you are hurt, but you refuse to get help."
"So? What does it matter?"
"You're limping and you barely move your left arm."
"What do you want me to do? Cartwheels?"
"Stop joking! Tell the truth!"
"I told the truth. My arm hurts. Happy!"
"No!" I didn't care that we were yelling. "I know that you don't remember anything."
"What?" He whispered, looking at me.
"I heard you. You don't remember your rank number, your first name, or even your middle name. And you sure as hell don't remember my ma's death!"
"Steve," he started.
"But, you remember me. A miracle, right?"
"So what if I forgot a few things?"
"You have forgotten your own name!"
"It'll come back. It always does."
"What do you mean, always?" How many times has this happened to him?
"Those three months. I kept forgetting. Then, I would remember. They made me forget again."
"I'm sorry, Buck. How much did you forget?"
"Everything. I don't even remember that I'm a person. A human." He looked down at his gloved hands.
"What did they do to you?" I whispered more to myself than to him.
"I don't know. Not really. But, I think it's not over."
"Why?"
"I heard the others talking. The Howlies. This is the second time this has happened. They won't just let me go."
"Not when you are The Fist of HYDRA."
His eyes shot to me and I saw the fear on his face. It was the most emotion he had shown since I had rescued him.
"Talked to some of the prisoners?"
"Just one."
"One is enough."
Before I could ask any more questions, I heard distant gunshots. The camp!
"Let's go!"
I jumped out and started running. Bucky kept up with me easily, despite the change in his gait. Once again I wondered if he was really getting better and what was going on with his left side. I made it back to the camp and saw HYDRA soldiers fighting us.
"They came back for me," Bucky whispered. His eyes were wide and his right hand was shaking.
"Then, let's get them first."
Bucky rolled his shoulder and I heard a weird sound; a whirling noise. Both of us ran into battle, with me grabbing my shield. Bucky pulled out a knife and a small gun. When and where had he gotten those? Has he had them since being rescued? In between taking down enemies, I saw Bucky fight. He looked like the true embodiment of a soldier. With an agility that I hadn't seen, he killed them and moved on. Even when he was hit, he didn't seem to notice. Was that what I looked like when fighting?
"Don't kill The Soldier!" I heard a man call out.
They were going easy on him because they wanted to recapture him. Bucky had been right. They had followed us and were to get him back. Killing was different than injuring. One threw something at Bucky, making it stick to his left arm. Electricity shot out, covering his entire arm. Crying out, Bucky hit his knees, dropping the gun in his hand.
"Buck!"
I threw my shield, hitting the one near him. Running over, I saw him use his right hand to rip the device off. It glowed blue like all of HYDRA's other weapons. Why his left arm and not his chest or face? Something strange was going on with his left arm and I planned to find out what. I reached out with my hand a few inches from his left side. He twisted, grabbing my hand with his right.
"Thanks," he sighed.
"Always."
The fight continued and I lost track of Bucky. Once the dust cleared, I saw him clutching the left shoulder and stumbling toward the woods. I didn't see blood, but I could see the pain on his face. He was breathing hard and stumbling. I followed him, but didn't call out for him. Bucky wandered far in the trees, stopping to lean up against a huge rock. His jacket laid at his feet.
"Bucky?" I said, going over to him.
"Go away!" He yelled.
"What's wrong? What happened?"
"Nothing. Just sore!"
"No, you are hurt. Please, let me help you," I said softly.
I reached out and my fingers brushed his sleeve.
"Stop!"
He slammed my hand, causing it to sting. Shocked and upset, I pulled my hand back.
"Bucky. You can trust me."
"Can I?"
"Of course. I will always be here for you, pal. 'Til the end of the line, remember that?"
"I do." He nodded. "I can't trust the rest of them. You will tell."
"No," I promised. "I won't."
"You might have to," he said, swaying. "I need maintenance."
"I can get Morita."
"He can't help! I need Stark. Is he here? At this camp?"
"No. What can Howard do?" Did he think he was a doctor? Did he not remember that he only created weapons?
"Help me. Morita can't."
"What is going on here?" I was confused.
"Ugh!" He fell to the ground.
"Buck!" I kneeled down, grabbing his right elbow. "Come on. We have to go."
"I can't." He shook my head. "I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"Myself. You know what I did. What I am."
"The Soldier?" He flinched. "I don't care."
"How? How can you not?"
"Because I know you. We have been friends since I was eight years old. Even if you don't. I do. I love you. Nothing will change that."
"Really? Even if I'm not human anymore. Even if I'm more monstrous than Red Skull."
"What? Do you have another face?" I asked, stupidly.
"No. Worse. I have another side." He grunted, his head landing on my shoulder. "I'm not the same."
"I don't care. Just let me help you!" I pleaded, not wanting him to die. I still didn't see a trace of blood, which scared me more than if he had been covered in it.
"Fine. I can't go on like this anyhow." He leaned back against the rock and his fingers started digging into the cloth of his left shoulder.
"Don't hurt yourself!"
"I'm not."
His fingers broke through the fabric and he jerked his wrist, ripping it down the shoulder seam. The sleeve moved down, revealing metal. Metal coated his shoulder like a second skin.
"What am I looking at?" I breathed.
"Me."
"How much?"
"The entire arm. One of the plates is dented in, cutting into one of the wires. My nerves so to speak." His eyes were glassy and sweat covered his face and neck. "Please."
At his plea, I tore the rest of the sleeve off, showing the rest of the arm. The metal went all the way down, disappearing into his glove. The plate that was dented was wrapped around his bicep. I could see inside of it and saw the wire that was bent. Looking at Bucky's pained expression, I reached out.
"What if I make it worse?"
"Just try."
I hooked my fingers around the opening in the plate and popped it off. Bucky let out a sigh and relaxed a little bit. The wire was still bent and touched it. Similar to a nerve, Bucky's entire body tensed, arching off of the rock.
"Sorry!"
"Hurry!"
I straightened out the wire, causing Bucky to cry out. He slumped against the cold rock, taking deep breaths.
"Now what?"
"Bend the dent out and put the plate back," he gasped. I did as he instructed and it clicked back into place. "Not perfect, but good enough."
"Sarge! Cap!" I heard Dum Dum call.
He was pushing through the trees and would be here in moments. I threw the jacket over Bucky's left arm, hiding it from view. Dugan, with his ugly bowler hat, spotted us and walked over.
"Are you two okay?"
"We're fine," I squeaked out.
"What happened to your shoulder, Sarge?" He pointed to the jacket.
"Steve here had to pop it back into place. Hurt like hell." Bucky even smirked at him.
"Bet so. We got everyone, but we need to move."
"Agreed." I stood up and helped Bucky up.
I kept a hand on his left arm and guided him back to camp. Squeezing, I left the hardness of the metal underneath. Bucky tensed every time, meaning he truly felt it as if it was a flesh arm.
"We are going to talk about this," I whispered to him.
"Wouldn't expect anything else." The corners of his mouth twitched and he met my eyes.
All of us started walking and walked all the way back to a base nearby. Peggy would meet up with Colonel Phillips and Howard Stark. As I kept a hold of Bucky, I saw her glancing at us. She would smile, meaning she felt that whatever had happened was over and everything would be fine. On one of our breaks, Peggy pulled me aside.
"Everything seems good between you and Barnes now? Did you figure it out?"
"I did," I nodded. "The soldiers had been drugged. Hallucinated. Buck had it the worst because he kept protecting them."
"In normal Barnes fashion." She smiled, thinking of the stories I had told her about us in Brooklyn.
"Right. They beat him up, mostly on his left side. Now, his shoulder is dislocated. I popped back into place. That man was crazy. The prisoner and his fairytale. None of the other soldiers had the same story." That technically wasn't a lie because they had seen different fights. "They kept him in a different room and experimented on him. They had heard of what Zola did. Drugged him too. Kept him healthy, like you said. He's going to be fine, I think. You were right."
"That's good to hear, Steve." Peggy smiled, fully believing me. I felt guilty.
I told the same story to the Howlies. My lying skills must have been getting better because my face didn't heat up and no one called me out on anything. It wasn't a full lie. Rossi was crazy, calling Bucky a monster and dehumanizing him. Bucky was a prisoner and a victim in all of this, more so than him. The prisoners of war were sent out of camp and I felt a weight lift off my chest. They wouldn't be able to figure out that Bucky was The Soldier and cause trouble.
"How are you feeling?" I asked Bucky.
"Good. Better thanks to you."
"I will always help you."
"I know. Don't know why I didn't think that."
"You don't remember," I stated, sitting next to him.
"It's coming back. Just a few things missing now; like basic training and small details. Nothing too bad."
"So…you know what happened to you?" I asked, kicking myself. It wasn't something that anyone wanted to talk about.
"I do. And I think I'm ready to tell it."
"Only if you want to."
"I want to. Back in Azzano, Zola was experimenting on people. Injecting us with something."
"A super soldier serum."
"Yeah. Most people died. Except for me. Zola didn't think it had worked. I didn't get all tall and strong, like you. And I didn't end up with Schmidt. So he kept injecting me. But it did do something."
"What?" That was a year ago and I had no idea what he was talking about.
"I could see better, hear better. All of my senses were heightened, even pain. That is why I am a perfect shot. No matter how hard it is."
"Oh." I just thought that it was practice.
"Yeah. This time, they took me to that room. Following Zola's instructions, they kept it going. It didn't take them long to figure out that it had been a success. Sort of. It wasn't good enough. So, they injected something new into my arm. A different serum."
"And it did what exactly?" I asked, looking at the covered metal arm.
"Not sure. My arm…exploded. Blood and meat went everywhere, exposing the bone from my elbow to my wrist. Not sure what happened after because I blacked out. I woke up with this." He twisted it and I heard the noise again. "Killed a doctor. That was when my training started."
"Training?"
"Yeah. Fighting, guns, and knives. Taught me German and Russian too. Also, they wiped me."
"Wiped you? Your memories?"
"Yeah." He nodded. "They shackled me to some ugly ass chair. It attached to my head and face, shooting electricity into my brain. Not sure how the training stayed, but everything else left. After two months of training and wiping, the fights started. I killed people."
"You didn't have a choice."
"Yes, I did! I could have died."
"They wouldn't have let you do that." I shook my head. "You had no memories. Said you forgot you were even human."
"Yeah. They told me that I was The Soldier, created by HYDRA. That I had an important mission and that I was gonna help save the world. And I believed them."
"Of course you did. It was all you knew. No one can blame you."
"Many people can. The other prisoners. I saw how they looked at me when I was dragged through. They fear and hate me."
"That's because they don't understand. I do."
"How can you sit there so calmly after everything I have told you?" He demanded.
"I'm biased," I shrugged. "I've known you my entire life. I know who you are. You are Bucky Barnes, my best friend. I love you."
"You're stupid," he huffed.
"Maybe. Doesn't matter. I don't hate you and I don't fear you. This war has changed us both. We will get through this. Together, like we have with everything else."
"Thank you, Stevie."
"You're welcome, Bucky."
I reached out and grabbed his metal hand. Holding it, I rubbed circles on the back of his hand. Bucky's body went slack and he started to cry. I wrapped my arms around him and held him to my chest. If I held on too tightly, he said nothing. As he fell apart in my arms, I kept the pieces together.
Bucky would be alright, even if I had to destroy the world to guarantee it. Everyone saw me as Captain America, the super soldier. They were wrong. I was Steve Rogers, the skinny kid from Brooklyn. The serum didn't change who I was. This didn't change him. He was still Bucky Barnes, the person I loved more than anything in the world.
THE END