March 30, 2012, Siberia
"Bingo! Itty bitty creepy crawly got the job done." Tony retracted his helmet, grabbed his phone, and sent the image from his helmet to a screen on a control panel.
They were doing recon from inside the Quinjet with a remote-controlled camera Tony made just for this mission, fitting it onto something that looked like a flying cockroach, but half the size. Cameras in Steve's day were large. It still amazed him how so much technology could be loaded into tiny packages like cell phones and cameras the size of a bug.
The jet's stealth technology was even more impressive than the reflective panels on the helicarrier; though, being inside the ship, he never did see what it looked like from the ground. Still…the world he found himself in was like something out of one of the science fiction books Bucky used to love reading.
If they got Bucky back home and patched up, maybe he'd still like to read. The idea stole his breath. Bucky. Home. Two words that were inextricably entwined. What would Bucky think of the tablets that could hold hundreds of books in something the size of a small notepad?
As the camera moved around the dim room, it took Steve a couple of seconds to realize what he was looking at. There were several tanks, lit by a faint yellow glow. Then he saw a shape through the glass of one of them—a human form, and it all clicked into place with a sickening realization.
"My God." Bruce leaned forward.
"There are six tanks." Steve focused on the interior of each one as Tony's bug moved around, but the lighting was dim, and it was impossible to make out faces from the camera's angle and the reflections on the glass.
A boot came into view, nearly stepping on the camera. "Okay, I think the little one has done enough. Calling TIN-E back to the nest while we're ahead. Looks like we have six cryo tanks with bodies in them, and 19 warm bodies inside. Should be easy."
"A walk in cake, as you say!" Thor exclaimed proudly.
"Seems a bit light on personnel for a secret Hydra base." Clint fastened his quiver over his shoulders.
"Their soldiers are in cryo," Natasha said. "There's probably nothing much to do besides maintenance."
"Six soldiers." Steve shook his head. "How did they get so much serum?"
"Let's just be thankful all tanks are occupied," Natasha said. "This mission would've gotten a lot more complicated with six Hydra super soldiers on the loose."
Steve couldn't quite suppress the grimace that flashed on his face. Six. She was counting Bucky in that number, which was fair, of course, but it still felt like a punch to his gut.
Bucky twisted and brainwashed into working for Hydra, the organization both of them had willingly sacrificed their lives to destroy, was something he tried not to think too much about. If he did, he'd put his fist through something he probably shouldn't.
"Let's get moving then." Steve was practically vibrating inside as he grabbed his shield.
Bucky. He had to be in one of those six tanks. Dead, but not dead. How would they revive him? "We'll need to apprehend someone who knows how to operate those tanks."
"Bet Bruce here can figure it out," Tony said, just before his helmet locked into place. "Showtime, kiddos. Let's go kick some ass and rescue the guy my old man said was the fun one."
"He's probably not gonna be so much fun, anymore," Bruce commented, shooting a sympathetic look at Cap. "But, yeah, I can probably figure them out, I hope, if Natasha can translate whatever's in Russian. It'd be easier if we keep someone awake and talking who knows how they work, though."
"Let's crash this party," Tony said. "How do you want to play it, Cap?"
"Tony, you go in first with the party favors. Thor and I will take up the second wave. Clint and Nat, you mop up, and Bruce…."
Bruce scrunched his face. "Please don't let there be a code green. If the big guy damages any of those tanks, it could very well kill whoever's inside."
"It'll be the last resort," Steve agreed. "But we'll need you inside once it's secured to get Bucky out of the tank."
"If he's in there," Natasha said. "We didn't get visual confirmation."
"He's in there," Steve said. He could feel it in his bones, and his instincts were usually right.
Usually. He swallowed hard remembering the train. When Bucky landed, was he conscious? How long did he lie there before the Russians found him?
"You okay?" Natasha asked him.
He pulled his mind out of the past. Time to focus on the mission, and only the mission. Anything else could get one of his teammates or Bucky killed. "Yeah. Let's go."
Tony went in hot with his usual flair, blasting through the front doors and rocketing inside. "Did someone order an ass-kicking today?" his voice filtered through the ear comms. "No? Nyet?"
There were sounds of gunfire, explosions, screams, and running. "I think they're sufficiently surprised, Cap. You joining the party anytime soon?"
Steve gave a nod to Thor, and the two men ran out of the Quinjet, covering the quarter mile to the bunker quickly. Ten men came at them with machine guns and even a grenade launcher, but Steve's shield and Thor's hammer took care of them.
A few minutes later, he was looking at the scattered bodies. Some were breathing. Some weren't.
"This is too easy," Thor lamented.
"Let's hope it stays easy." Steve lifted a finger to his earpiece. "Nat, Clint, you're up. Ten down here. Stay sharp."
"I took out seven." Tony said in the comm. "That should leave one for each of you to play with."
"Gee, thanks for your generosity," Clint replied, sounding disappointed.
There were sounds of a fight that ended quickly, then heavy breathing, followed by Nat's voice. "Two down. Should be all—"
Gunfire erupted, and Clint cursed.
"Report! What's your position?" Steve started running toward the entrance when Clint's voice stopped him.
"We're all good here, Cap."
"You missed one, Stark," Nat said.
"Sorry," Tony replied, "but hey, it is a bunker. Lots of nooks and crannies, cement, metal, all that, and TIN-E can't get reliable heat signatures through all that."
"What level are the cryo chambers?" Steve asked.
"Head down, Cap. I'm standing right in front of them, and, uh….I've got eyes on the prize…I think."
Steve ran, shield at ready, leaving all stealth behind as his feet clattered on metal, down stairs, leaping over a railing to sail three levels below. Thor was right behind him. He skidded to a halt when he got to an open room and saw Tony standing in the center near a metal chair surrounded by monitors and control panels set within a circle of rails.
Several unconscious men and discarded rifles were on the floor.
Steve's gaze swept the cryochambers and settled on the one that was different, more vertical than the others, with a figure inside, held upright, head tilted slightly forward, mask covering the lower half of his face. He wore a black vest with two circular inserts that glowed blue. His left arm was metal.
Dear God, what did they do to you?
Steve walked up to the glass and pressed his palm against it. It was cold. So cold. The occupant inside was definitely frozen. He studied the eyes, hooded, shadowed, eyelids half-open, revealing eyes that looked blue, but it was hard to tell in the dim, yellow lighting.
Was this Bucky? The brow line. The hair. The eyes. He knew them. It wasn't just wishful thinking.
"Is that your friend?" Thor asked.
Steve dropped his hand and slipped the shield on his back. "Yes." He swallowed the saliva that was suddenly lodged in the back of his throat. "How do we get him out of this?"
He looked around, but none of the bodies on the floor were moving. Footsteps had him tensing until he heard Clint in his ear. "Coming in, Cap. Got a live one. Maybe he'll be helpful….and shit."
"What is it, Clint?"
"He's not alive anymore. Cyanide tablet."
Hydra was using its old tricks, apparently.
"Hey!" Tony walked up to a man on the floor who was groaning. He retracted his helmet and reached into the man's mouth with two of his metal fingers. "Just a second…ah, got it!" He set the cyanide tablet on a panel and slapped the man's cheek. "Wakey, wakey, Hydra snakey! Time for twenty questions."
Natasha and Clint appeared, on guard, surveying the scene.
The man opened his eyes and blinked up at Tony. "Heil, Hydra!"
"Yeah, yeah," Tony replied.
Steve was on top of the man instantly, hand in his shirt, yanking him to his feet. "You know who I am, right?"
The man huffed. "Da."
"Then you know what I'll do to you if you don't tell me how to get Barnes out of that cryo chamber alive."
"He's not Barnes. He's the Fist of Hydra," the man replied in a heavy Russian accent.
Steve resisted the urge to send a fist into the guy's face. He needed him conscious. He settled for slamming him back against the railing hard enough to elicit a pained grunt. "Tell me how to get him out of there alive."
"Even if you do, he's our soldier. Without the right protocol, he's erratic, unreliable. You won't be able to control him. He'll kill you."
"What protocol?"
The man smiled and looked at the chair. "Sit over there and I'll be happy to show you."
The punch landed hard between the man's eyes, knocking him unconscious instantly.
"Good job, Cap. Way to keep your cool," Tony said.
"He wasn't going to help us." Steve dropped the man to the ground. "Bruce, looks like we're gonna need you inside."
"On my way."
"Humans can be truly barbaric," Thor said, a note of sadness in his voice as he studied the frozen figures in the chambers.
"Yeah," Natasha muttered, "tell me about it." She walked up to Barnes' chamber and peered up at him. "This is the Winter Soldier?" her voice was a mere whisper. "The legend? The ghost story?" She shook her head.
"It's not his fault," Steve said, walking up to stand beside her. "They made him into this."
She nodded, her eyes fixed on Bucky. "I know. Now that I know the man behind the myth, it's…sad." She finally turned her gaze to Steve. "I hope he's still in there, for both your sakes."
"He's in there." He has to be. Steve turned as Bruce arrived, slightly out of breath.
"So, this is…awful." Bruce walked up to the metal chair and studied it briefly before turning his attention to the cryo chambers. Control panels sat in front of each one. He walked up to Steve and Natasha and looked up at the frozen man inside. "This is Barnes, I take it?"
"Yeah." Steve stepped aside to give him room.
"What did they do with his arm?" Bruce asked. "That prosthetic is like nothing I've seen before."
"He fell quite a distance," Steve said, pushing the image of that day straight out of his mind as soon as it popped in. "Maybe his arm was too badly damaged to save."
I'm sorry, Buck. He looked back at his friend. How long did you lie there? Were you conscious? I should have gone back for you right away.
"This isn't your fault, Steve." Natasha's voice pulled him out of his dark thoughts.
He sucked in a breath and looked her in the eyes. "Yes, it is."
"Nat," Bruce interrupted, "can you tell me what the letters on the panel mean?"
She gave a curt nod and studied the panel, then pointed to a top button. "I think this one opens the chamber." She peered at the screen and tilted her head. "It's saying stasis right now."
Bruce pressed the top button, and the screen on the panel lit up.
"It's asking for a code," Natasha said.
Stark walked up. "Jarvis, how 'bout you sweet talk the pretty Russian over here?"
"Working on it, Sir."
After a moment, the panel changed, and Russian letters filled the screen.
"Code accepted," Natasha said. "It's asking to confirm thaw cycle."
"Here goes." Bruce shot an anxious glance at Steve, then pressed the button.
"Shouldn't we, uh, take precautions?" Nat asked, taking a step back as the glass case lifted and the platform holding Bucky descended.
"I think the six of us can handle one freezer-burned super soldier," Tony said.
Steve's heart pounded as the platform came to rest, and Bucky was inches away, no glass or metal separating them. Tubes ran from the top of the chamber into the black vest with the glowing inserts. Steve could reach out and touch him, but he didn't dare interfere with Bruce or the thawing process.
"Okay," Bruce hovered over the panel. "These are vital signs. Everything's flat right now. Looks like something's happening." He shook his head. "I've never seen anything like this. This system is like no cryogenic technology I'm familiar with. Looks like it takes advantage of the serum's protective and regenerative effects to facilitate revival." He looked at Steve. "Like how you came back alive after being defrosted."
That had been an unpleasant experience. He only remembered bits and pieces of it, but he remembered pain and the residual terror from crashing into the ice, then the disorientation when he woke to find himself in the room, with a familiar baseball game on the radio.
That was the last game he and Bucky attended together. It was May 1941 and a beautiful day to be at Ebbets field. The game had plenty of drama. Reiser got knocked out cold and landed on his shoulder blades, his knees rigid in the air. Less than seven months later, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, and Bucky enlisted.
"Well," Bruce continued, "if I'm reading this graph correctly, I'd say it's nearing cycle completion." The panel beeped, and there was a hiss of air and the groan of machinery.
Bucky's head dipped forward slowly. The blue glow of the vest indicators turned orange, and a few minutes later, the thin layer of frost coating him to water. His hair hung forward, locks dripping.
"Okay," so we have to unhook these tubes." Bruce walked up to the chamber and studied the various hoses connected to Bucky. One by one, he disconnected them, and the glowing inserts dimmed.
Bucky's knees folded, and Steve caught him, sinking to the ground with his friend in his arms. "He's ice." The metal arm was freezing to the touch. Steve eyed the mask clamped over Bucky's nose and jaw and pushed down the rage that threatened to undo him as he unfastened the thing and threw it aside.
The face cradled against the crook of his shoulder was Bucky's. He'd known it was, but the confirmation was still shocking. He looked almost exactly the same, except for a minor abrasion and a touch of stubble on his jaw. He was a little taller and bulkier and his hair longer, but it was as if no time at all had passed.
The eyelids fluttered. Steve's heart quickened in response. The blue eyes drifted, unfocused. A groan escaped, and Bucky's chest shuddered with a tortured breath.
"He's so cold." Steve clutched his friend close to him. He smelled blood. Bucky looked unharmed, so it had to be from some of the downed Hydra agents. "What do we do now?"
Bruce knelt next to Steve. "We get him into the jet and warmed up."
It was such an obvious response, Steve felt stupid for asking. "Yeah, okay."
He adjusted his grip on Bucky. He had to move, but his legs refused. Bucky was alive, in his arms. Groaning. Breathing. Alive. He tightened his hold, soaking in the feeling of solid flesh in his arms, the sense of home he found in that face that was more familiar to him than his own, and tightened his grip. God, how he'd missed Bucky. He didn't even realize how much until now. He was afraid that if he let go, he'd wake up to discover this was all a dream.
"Sir, it appears that someone is attempting to leave the facility," Jarvis' voice rang in their comms.
"Specifics, pretty please," Tony prompted.
"They have emerged from a south exit and are currently heading toward a helicopter."
"On it." Tony activated his suit and rocketed away.
"Hey," Natasha knelt next to them. "Let's get him to the jet."
"Let me give you a hand," Clint offered, stepping in between Nat and Bruce.
With a grateful smile, Steve nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."
The sound of Tony's thrusters filled the room. "Well, lookie here." He landed with a thud, a man dressed in a Russian uniform and a red beret restrained in his metal arms. "Took all the weapons off him. He's clean."
Steve gently lowered Bucky to the ground with a glance at Thor to keep an eye out on his friend. The Asgardian gave an acknowledging nod.
"Who are you?" Steve asked, walking up to the man.
"Colonel Karpov." The man's gaze went to Bucky, then back to Steve. "I know who you are, and what you think you're doing here, but your friend no longer exists. He belongs to Hydra now."
Kaprov? The name was a punch to his gut. The Russian Colonel…the camp. The bar.
"Like hell he does." Steve clenched his fists and took a step closer. "Your father was Alexi Karpov?"
"He told me he met you. You were most helpful."
The words stunned him. He'd told the Russians to keep an eye out, gave them a description, a basic location. What did I do? Oh, God…. "What have you done to him?"
Karpov tilted his head. "We made him strong. How does it feel to know that the soldier you once fought side-by-side with against Hydra has served us so well for so many decades?"
"Hey!" Tony's metal palm slapped the side of Karpov's head, nearly knocking him off his feet. "Be nice, or you'll get a time out."
Bucky groaned again.
Karpov recovered and leveled a hard stare at Steve, his mouth lifting into an arrogant smile. "He'll either kill you, Captain, or you'll have to kill him." Then Karpov raised his voice. "Eti vragi, Soldat."
Natasha's hand whipped out and sent one of her taser discs sailing into Karpov. Its energy sizzled over him, and he folded to the floor, unconscious. "He'll be out for a couple of minutes, at least," she said. "Let's get Barnes out of here."
Bucky groaned and shifted, head tilting, eyes dazed.
"We mean you no harm." Thor knelt next to Bucky. "We are allies."
Bucky's chest swelled with a deep breath and a pained groan. His body shuddered, and he rolled onto his right side, clutching his metal shoulder, and curled into himself.
Thor rested a hand on Bucky's. "All will be well."
The metal arm whipped out, fingers wrapping weakly around Thor's neck. A choke scream tore from Bucky instantly, and the arm dropped with a clang to the floor. He writhed, turning onto his stomach, legs scrambling as he tried to get them beneath his body.
It was torture to watch. How much more torture was it for Bucky? It was Steve's fault the Russians found Bucky. All of this was because of him.
Steve closed the distance in a few strides and tried to help, but the moment he touched his friend, Bucky growled and sent his right elbow clumsily toward Steve's face, missing by inches as Steve slipped out of range.
"Bucky, it's Steve." He pulled his helmet off, hoping his face would jog Bucky's memory. "I'm your friend."
Bucky grunted, collapsing onto his right side with a frustrated groan, but gave no sign of recognition.
"He's in pain?" Steve asked. They had to get Bucky to the jet, but now that he was coming around, he didn't seem in the mood to cooperate.
"The shoulder I think," Bruce said. "Metal expands as it warms. The prosthetic has to be anchored to bone, so as it expands…." his voice trailed off.
Steve figured out the rest, and it turned his stomach. "It's breaking bone?"
"Probably creating fractures." Bruce nodded. "If the serum he received is similar to yours, he'll heal fast, but the thawing process has got to be agony."
"Let's get him to the jet." Steve didn't like the idea of manhandling Bucky, but they didn't have a choice. "Thor, would you give me a hand? Let's try to be careful with that shoulder, but I don't think he's going to make this easy on us."
"We'll mop up here," Tony said.
"And look for something that might help us with Barnes," Bruce added. "The serum interferes with most drugs, but it's highly likely they've developed special sedatives or other chemical restraints that will work on him."
Chemical restraints. Steve gritted his teeth against the images that evoked and looked at Thor. "If you grab his legs, I'll take his upper-body." He slid his arm beneath Bucky's back and got an instant reaction—another clumsy swing with the right hand and a disoriented groan. "We better work fast while he's still somewhat out of it." Steve wrapped his arms around his friend's chest and cradled Bucky's upper half against him while Thor secured his legs. Bucky's arms swung free, but his right one periodically sent a punch over his left shoulder toward Steve, never making contact.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, let me." Tony walked up and gestured to Steve. "I can get him to the jet faster. You two tag along. Nat, Clint, and Bruce can hold the fort down here and I'll be back in a jif."
Steve was hesitant to turn Bucky over to anyone. He trusted Stark, but now that he had hold of Bucky, he felt an illogical terror that something could rip him away again. Still, Tony's plan made sense, and it'd be easiest on Bucky.
"Okay, just be careful with his left shoulder." Steve shifted Bucky's weight to Stark and Thor let go.
"I'll be careful with your BFF," Tony said, then rocketed away with a weakly-flailing Bucky dangling from his arms.
Steve took off with Thor at full speed, hoping to make it to the jet only a few moments after Tony. When they got there, Tony was already inside with Bucky on the medical table, struggling against the suited arms that held him down. It was blessedly warm inside the Quinjet, even with the ramp lowered.
"He's gotten feisty." Tony said, helmet retracting as he looked at them. "Wanna take over, Cap? Maybe you can get through to him."
Steve set his shield down, then switched places with Tony. Thor dropped his hammer and took up position near Bucky's legs, ready to render assistance.
"Bucky." Steve pinned his friend's arms down, hoping he wasn't doing more damage to the shoulder. "Bucky, look at me. It's Steve."
The only response was a slight hesitation from Bucky, a quick freeze of his confused eyes as they locked with Steve's, and for a moment, Steve's heart leaped with hope, then Bucky gritted his teeth and growled, jerking upward against Steve's hold, legs kicking just as Thor pinned them to the table. Unable to break free, he tilted his head back and released an angry scream.
"Bucky," Steve tried to break through to his friend. Bucky would know him. He had to. "Your name is James Buchanan Barnes."
Bucky grunted and flinched as if slapped, and that was both terrible and wonderful to see. It told Steve something of Bucky was still there. He pressed on. "You know me. I'm Steve Rogers. I'm your friend."
The fight drained from Bucky, and his chest rattled with two deep coughs. Then he sucked in a few hard breaths and looked at Steve. His brow furrowed, and there was something in his eyes—a glimmer of uncertainty—that gave Steve hope.
It lasted only a moment before Bucky snarled and flailed beneath their holds.
"Bruce, we need something." Steve said into his comm. If they couldn't get Bucky under control fast, he'd likely hurt himself, or they'd hurt him trying to restrain him.
"I found something. Tony's bringing me in."
A minute later, Tony and Bruce walked up the ramp of the jet. Bruce held a vial with a milky substance in his hand and hurried to the medical table. They'd come prepared, and Bruce readied an IV as Steve and Thor kept Bucky secured.
Steve trusted Bruce but still didn't like the idea of injecting Bucky with something from the bunker. "What is that?"
"A chemical cocktail of Propofol, Ketamine, and a few other sedatives. It's labeled for Winter Soldier use. I'll start him on an IV, slowly, until we see an effect."
"Can you imagine the street value of this stuff?" Tony said. "Wonder what a drop or two would do a certain senator….kidding! Jeez. Enough with the looks."
Steve ignored Tony's pratter as he struggled to hold Bucky down. His friend's strength was definitely returning. "You sure about this?" he asked Bruce.
"As sure as I can be unless you want to hold him like that all the way back to New York. Now, someone has to hold his right hand and arm for me so I can get a vein.
"I will," Thor said.
"But you need to stay with his legs," Steve countered.
Thor gave a smile and picked up his hammer. He held Bucky's legs with one arm and angled the hammer over Bucky's ankles, with the heavy end on the table and the handle draped over Bucky's legs. It made an effective restraint.
"Good thinking." Steve jerked his chin toward Bucky's right arm. "On three, I'll let him go and shift all my weight to his metal arm." Fractured shoulder or not, Bucky's metal arm was becoming a serious threat, even for Steve. "One…two…three."
They shifted, and Thor grabbed Bucky's right arm with both of his, holding it down while Bucky grunted, yelled, and struggled. Bruce slid the needle into the vein, got the bag ready, and then slowly injected the white liquid into the line.
Seconds turned to minutes, but eventually Bucky's struggles weakened. His head lolled to the side, and his eyelids drooped to half-mast.
Natasha entered. "I called in the SHIELD clean-up crew."
"You what?" Steve stiffened. He didn't want SHIELD anywhere near Bucky, not after the secrets Fury kept, and the brass that sent a nuke to New York.
"What else are we supposed to do with a bunch of Hydra agents and five super soldiers? Unless you want us to blow it all up," she said.
"Before they get here, I'm gonna go do some scavenging," Tony said. "Make sure to pick through all the goodies before SHIELD gets their grubby little hands on them. Hush, hush, Romanoff and Barton. Snitches get on every telemarketer's list."
"That's enough for now," Bruce said, withdrawing the syringe. "I'll try to keep him in this twilight state to avoid an accidental overdose."
"Yeah, killing the guy we came all this way to save would just be bad form," Tony said as he rocketed off the ramp and out of sight.
"I will accompany Stark," Thor said, easing his grip on Bucky and setting his hammer on the deck.
"Thanks." Someone needed to keep an eye on Tony, for his sake, and just because.
"Is an overdose even possible?" Clint's voice interrupted as his footsteps clanged on the ramp, and he appeared inside the cabin.
"Probably," Bruce said, "but it's hard to know with the serum. This combination in these dosages would've killed anyone else. Hydra obviously had a lot of time to develop effective drugs."
With Bucky half unconscious, Steve let go of Bucky's metal arm. At last, things were calm and stable. He released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and sagged forward, gripping the edge of the table for support.
"Hey, you okay, Cap?" Clint was at his side immediately, a hand on his shoulder.
"I just…need a minute." He managed a shaky smile and a nod, then scrubbed a hand through his hair as he looked at Bucky's face. Those glassy blue eyes were fixed on him beneath half-mast eyelids. Steve wasn't sure if Bucky was actually seeing him, but he could swear he read betrayal in that gaze.
How did we get here, Buck? His throat clenched around a sob. Beautiful, bright, kind, playful, always-there Bucky. Look what they've done to you.
"I let this happen."
"You can't think that way, Steve," Bruce said.
He didn't realize he'd said that out loud. With a heavy sigh, he moved to the other side of the table and sat on the bench close to Bucky, leaving Bruce enough room to work the IV. Gently, careful not to jostle the tubing, he took Bucky's hand in his own. The flesh was still so cold…and shivering.
"We need to warm him up."
"I've given him some warm fluids," Bruce said. "His clothes are wet. We need to get him out of those, check him over, put the warming blanket on."
"On it." It gave him something to do besides mope. He worked Bucky's boots off to reveal bare feet. Hell, they didn't even give him socks.
"I'll just…keep an eye out," Natasha said, turning her back to them and hovering at the top of the ramp.
"I'll work on his top," Clint offered, fingers probing the side of the vest. "How the heck does this thing come off?"
Steve left Clint to his task as he unfastened Bucky's damp pants, shimmied them off, and…
What?
Oh, God.
"Dr. Banner," he croaked. That's where the blood smell was coming from.
"What?" Bruce glanced over absently, then his eyes went wide when he saw the red between Bucky's thighs. "Uh, oh…."
"Hell," Clint breathed.
"I don't know how badly he's injured," Bruce said, voice strained, apologetic, as if this were in any way his fault.
Steve closed his eyes, lowered his head, and tried desperately not to put his fist through the bulkhead. He sucked in a deep breath and looked up at Bruce and Clint. "Let's find out if he has any other…injuries."
The vest came off, revealing a bare chest marred by scars where the metal met flesh. Deep bruises darkened the right rib cage, and what looked like a slice from a bullet carved a path of red along the lower left side.
"There's not much we can do for him here," Bruce said, "other than keep him sedated and pump fluids into him."
He walked to the storage compartment and took out the warming blanket, draped it over Bucky, and pressed a button at the top. A few seconds later, filaments within the semi-opaque material glowed red.
"They just froze him like this," Steve muttered. "Didn't even bother to tend to his wounds."
Tires crunched on the snow outside. "Tony," Natasha announced, turning to look at them, her gaze hovering briefly over Barnes. A moment later, Stark's metal boots clanged up the ramp, and Natasha stepped aside as he walked past her with a couple of boxes in his arm.
He set the boxes down and retracted his helmet. "What? Why all the long faces? Did Bruce O.D. Bucky boy? Is he dead?"
"No." Steve dropped back to the bench. "He's…stable…for now." He couldn't say okay. Bucky sure as hell wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. Time to change the subject. He jerked his chin at the boxes. "What did you find?"
"Lots of goodies. Borrowed one of their ATVs. Thor's bringing up a few more boxes, and I'm heading back for more. A lot of this stuff is old. Your kinda old, Cap. I'm talking film reels and VHS." He gave a sloppy salute and headed back down the ramp, passing Thor with a stack of boxes up to his eyes, which he set next to the ones Tony had delivered.
"The Hydra agents?" Steve asked.
"They shall rue the wrongs they have committed against your brother-in-battle."
Steve managed a half-hearted smile. That wasn't quite what he meant, but he appreciated the sentiment. "They'll hold until SHIELD arrives?"
Thor nodded. "Those that still breathe are secure."
"About those five soldiers, Natasha," Steve began, and she turned to him with a questioning brow, "what will SHIELD do with them? What if they're like Bucky? Victims?"
"SHIELD will figure it out. That's the best place for them unless you have a better idea?"
He shook his head. He really didn't. Bucky was here, alive, and that was more than he could have imagined when woke up in the 21st century."
-0- -0- -0-
Bucky's chest moved with a slow and shallow rhythm. Steve stared at the movement, lulled by its reassuring cadence, like gentle ocean waves on a lazy morning. The IV continued to do its job as Dr. Banner did his—keeping a close eye on Bucky's breathing and heart rate and injecting just enough sedative as needed to keep Bucky in this twilight state.
Bruce had managed as thorough an exam as he could given the limited supplies on the Quinjet, and the lack of privacy. All eyes turned away as Bruce determined the source of the bleeding and evaluated the extent of the damage.
Steve felt as nauseous as he had that day on the cyclone, and the meager contents of his stomach threatened to come up, but he swallowed the sour bile at the back of his throat and forced himself not to think about what caused those injuries.
Would Bucky ever forgive him? Damn me. He didn't deserve forgiveness, and it was selfish to even be concerned with that. His monumental screw ups and loose lips had cost Bucky…this. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the medical table, his hand on Bucky's arm.
"Bleeding's stopped. Tissue's already starting to heal," Bruce said, repositioning the warming blanket over Barnes. "I cleaned him up the best I could."
Steve lifted his head to see all eyes on him. They couldn't know what he'd done, and yet somehow he saw reproach in their eyes. Or maybe that was just pity.
"We're landing in thirty minutes," Tony announced from the cockpit. "You and Bucky Boy have an entire floor, elevators will need voice authorization for access and stairwells are locked down, so even though I relieved his arm of a cute little GPS, if anyone does come looking for him, they won't get far. I've upgraded Jarvis' security protocols so not even SHIELD can override them, this time."
"Don't be so sure." Natasha stretched on the bench near Clint, her feet beneath his legs. "SHIELD has lots of tricks up their sleeve."
She held a red book with a black star on the cover, something Tony had found locked in a vault. According to Natasha, it was the Winter Soldier's manual—a record detailing the experiments and procedures performed on Bucky, with instructions on how to control him.
As if he were a machine and not a human being. All these years….seventy horrible years, and no one other than Hydra knew that James Barnes was alive. What had it taken to break the man Steve once knew and turn him into Hydra's assassin?
Steve looked at Tony and offered a grateful smile. "Thank you." That was more generous than he had anticipated. Sometimes Tony surprised him.
"Yeah, well, might as well just make Stark Tower into the Avengers Tower since you all keep making yourselves at home." Tony gave an exaggerated eye roll, then pointed at Clint, who was half-heartedly snoozing. "But stop stealing my good coffee, Robin Hood."
Clint grunted. "You can have all the elephant poop you want, Stark."
Thor was sprawled out on the deck, Mjölnir next to him. "I have found several of your Earth beverages to my liking, though none rival Asgardian Ale."
"Where are we putting him?" Bruce asked.
"Got a sweet little set-up next to your lab, Doc," Tony said. "Brought in a few new toys. It's all waiting for us when we arrive. Cap, there's even an adjacent room for you and a bag of clothes and essentials, just temporary of course, 'til your buddy's less murdery. "