Chapter 2 - Reassignments and Kind Surprises
Back at SHIELD headquarters, Nick Fury greeted Steve with a smile.
"Captain Rogers, mission report." the man with the eye-patch requested sternly, and the two walked through the sleek hallways towards the briefing room, the futuristic technology flashing on every wall they walked by.
"All targets eliminated, no casualties on our side." said Steve.
"Excellent work, Captain." Fury replied.
"However-"
"However?" Fury interrupted, turning to stop the taller man dead in his tracks. "Good god Rogers, do not proceed to tell me that you cut off the arms but left the heart. Who got away?" Steve took a breath and sighed, and so did Nick. "Rodgers, Hydra goons are like vermin. You can kill as many as you want, but if there is one survivor, they will always come back, bigger and better than ever. Then, before you know it, you have an entire army invading New York with an emo goth kid with horns leading the darn swarm! Now who got away?" He demanded to know. Steve tried to hide his shame.
"A last resort used by Hydra, they call him the Winter Soldier. I myself thought he was long gone, but, I fought him up-close. I managed to throw him off the train, but I believe he survived." Fury sighed.
"We will have our database team look into his records, see if we can track him down. That will be all, Captain." said Fury, and he walked away, leaving a conflicted Steve behind.
"Thank you, sir." said Steve as his director disappeared through a set of double-doors.
"Fury make you mad?" came a velvety voice from behind Cap, and Steve turned to see Natasha leaning against the wall like a black cat seducing its prey. She seemed to be able to teleport anywhere she went. Steve cracked a small smile.
"Agent Romanoff, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he said with a slight grin. Natasha smiled.
"I'm grabbing a drink, and you're coming with me." she said as she strutted past him, her perfect red hair as straight as a ruler. She tugged on his shoulder and Steve did as he was told, joining Natasha, and the two made for the communal lounge.
"I thought you hated the bar selection here?" Cap questioned, to which Natasha only scoffed. "Oh god, they only have Fireball and Midori, but it's free, so, sign me up. One of the perks of being a SHIELD recruited agent." she joked. Cap smiled.
The two sat at the small bar and sipped on their mediocre drinks, both in tired silence as the days work had been long. Natasha had been recruited to take care of some embezzlers in Tokyo, rescuing a couple hostages that had posed a threat to the businessmen's scheme in the process. The red-head took her last sip of spicy apple Fireball and broke the ice, wiping her slightly sticky lip with her sleeve.
"So," she began "how was your day, soldier?" Cap sighed and looked down at the glass of green liquid that looked so small in his genetically enhanced hand.
"I saw someone today." he said. "One of the HYDRA assassins. He looked so…"
"Crazy?" Natasha finished for him, but Cap didn't comment.
"…sad." finished Cap. "Like he wanted to get away from it all, like he needed someone to tell him everything's gonna be ok. Or at least give him a smile." Steve didn't know why he was sharing this, but he and Natasha had been friends and teammates for years, and knew he could be himself around the Russian. Nat mentally sighed. She knew that sometimes the stress of missions got to Steve, as he was a sensitive guy after all. He just would never let it show. On the outside, he was the image of American bravery and muscular heroism, while on the inside, he was a teddy-bear. Nat stayed quiet and let him finish.
"The strange part was, that, there was something oddly… beautiful about him. His eyes were so pained, but, they almost seemed to shine…" Nat almost laughed. She knew Steve was gay. Being an incredibly confident, intelligent and cynical woman had granted her an immaculate gay-dar, and sometimes she thought of how adorable Steve could get when he described the inner beauty in people. But he had never spoke about a specific man this way before.
"Well," she began, trying her best to be encouraging "if he's a psycho assassin, I probably wouldn't get attached." placing her empty glass on the counter, she hopped off the bar stool and turned to leave. "I'm gonna crash at the compound for a couple hours. Catch ya later, Stripy." she waved, and Cap shot her a crooked smile. She came up with a new nickname for him every other day.
Knocking back the last of his Midori, Cap turned and went to the gym to train some more before eventually showering and bunking down early that night, his Avengers Compound bed feeling too soft beneath his heavy muscles.
Thoughts raced through his mind that night, sleep refusing to come as images of the soldier he had fought that day flashed across his eyes. As Cap tossed and turned in bed, he thought about how hauntingly beautiful the Winter Soldier was, and why out of all the crazy men in black masks he had fought in his career, did this one strike a heart string so deep within him? Was it pity? Appreciation? Steve didn't know. He also thought of how easily he was able to take him down. This was the Winter Soldier, for Pete's sake, the man who had assassinated dozens of targets and never failed a mission in his life, (save today) and was said to be a ruthless tool of destruction. Steve was confused. This man could've snapped he neck in a second, but Cap had practically just pushed him off the train in an almost effortless battle. It was as if there was something… between them, something that weakened them. Cap didn't know what it was. All he knew was that he needed to see that man again again, to find him, to help him, to tell him everything is gonna be ok.
When Bucky woke up, he was still on the train. His neck aching, he stretched his arms out and blinked to regain his vision. The motion of the train had slowed, and the objects stowed in the caboose wobbled as the wheels crackled to a halt. The caboose was crowded with old crates, tarps and engines parts, and an old cow-catcher from years past had been his pillow. No wonder Bucky's neck hurt.
Getting up, the Winter Soldier yanked open the sliding doors of the caboose used for hauling objects into the small, cramped storage area. Bucky jumped from the train and ran, determined to stay out of sight, for if the workers saw a stow-away with a metal arm escaping the train, there would be confusion for sure.
Where the train had stopped, there were woods nearby. Bucky made his way towards them, away from HYDRA. But he knew that deep down, everything HYDRA had put in him was still there, and he would do anything to be rid of it.
The woods were extremely green, almost picturesque as if from an enchanted forest. Had the train transported him to another season entirely? The woods went on for a short while before the tops of roofs and chimneys could be seen off in the distance, meaning society. Bucky made a mental note to stay away from there. He didn't belong. Under the cover of night, Bucky gathered logs from the woodland ground and dumped them in a pile, took a lighter from his pocket and set them ablaze, bringing his knees to his chest as he gazed into the inferno.
Bucky felt out of place. He felt silly, making a makeshift campfire outside a small German town, reflecting on his memories as a killing machine, broken by HYDRA. A brainwashed psycho assassin didn't belong here.
As his eyes swam in the flickering orange blaze in front of him, all the Winter Soldier could think about was the man from the train. He had looked so noble, so perfect, but also so… lost. There was something about him that made Bucky's mind unable to think of anything else. The blond man's face spoke of valiant honour, but his eyes were that of a lost soul, someone in a time and place where they didn't belong. A feeling Bucky knew all too well.
The Winter Soldier sat by the fire, his mind continuing to race with thoughts of the courageous Captain America. He didn't even know his real name. HYDRA had briefed him on the mission, but they never spent time on personal details. It was always "Eliminate this target by daybreak" and other such orders, each one direct and impersonal as to not inspire sympathy in the Asset. No matter. If he ever did feel remorse after a mission, they would fry his brains out afterwards anyway. The memories pained him, and he almost winced. But his thoughts were interrupted when something snapped underfoot behind him.
His conditioned killer instincts kicking in, Bucky grabbed a switchblade out of his calf-holster and span around to face the noise, ready to defend himself against a foe. But a pile of logs fell to the ground as a man put up his hands in surrender.
"Easy, easy!" a man spoke with a thick Sokovian accent. "I'm just gathering wood." he whispered, as if speaking too loudly would result in his imminent death. Bucky breathed, his long hair covering his face, and he shivered in adrenaline and relief as he put the blade back into its holster, not saying a word. The man picked up his logs and started to go on his way again, when he stopped and turned back around. "Are you lost?" he asked, his accent rolling off his tongue. Bucky didn't move. "Are you alright?" he asked again. Bucky only shook his head. The man's brow knotted. "If you like, I have a spare bed at home. You are welcome to it." he offered. Bucky wasn't sure why a total stranger was offering him shelter, especially since he had just pulled a knife on him. But accepting the mans offer meant getting farther away from HYDRA, even if it meant entering society. He'd make do.
The fire was burning out anyway, and hesitantly, Bucky stood up, and the man smiled.
"I'm Zemo." he said. "Helmut Zemo. And you are?" he asked as the two walked along the forest floor. Bucky didn't answer. "Alright, then." said the man. This newcomer was much shorter than Bucky, with brownish-blond hair and seemed be crisply dressed, in a thick navy blue coat complete with a Scarlett cravat.
The duo eventually made it to a small, quaint house, clearly one in style with the rest of the village. Although the year was well into the 21st century, the little German village looked straight out of a storybook. Cottages made of brown and beige brick stood at uneven distances from each other, with grass running between them. Straw and tin roofs sealed the small houses, which were adorable with each window warmly illuminated by modern, electric light. Every house lined the border of the stone town centre with a well in the middle, painting a picture right out of Pinocchio or Cinderella. Bucky felt even more out of place.
Zemo opened the door of his cottage and the two walked inside, although Bucky hesitated at the doorway momentarily, his head almost grazing the ceiling as he stepped inside. Zemo placed the wooden logs in a basket next to the fireplace and closed the door behind him, fetching a tea kettle and hanging it on a hook over the fire.
"Tea?" he offered, but Bucky remained dormant. "Come now, everyone needs tea at night. My treat." he said, but Bucky remained stone-faced. How was this Zemo not intimidated by him? Zemo placed two mugs on the table, and Bucky took a moment to survey his surroundings. The house was low-roofed and incredibly cozy. A rustic living area complete with a stone fireplace and a bear rug was off to the left, stairs led up to small second story in the middle of the wall, and a small kitchen and dining table resided next to it. Zemo made tea for two and sat down, gesturing for Bucky to do the same. "Won't you tell me your name?" Zemo asked. Bucky thought it over. It was the least he could do after he was offered a place to stay.
"James." he said. He wasn't ready for anyone to know his nickname yet. Bucky was the one thing he owned, the one thing that was his. HYDRA had taken his birth-name and replaced it with a title, called him simply "The Asset", so he made up his own name, his own possession. He cut his middle name short and called himself Bucky, to himself and only himself. At the mention of some sort of name, Zemo smiled.
"James. A pleasure." he said, and raised his teacup in a toast. Suddenly, it was Bucky who broke the silence.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" he asked, his face still as hard as stone. Zemo smiled and looked own.
"Let's just say, I am a man with nothing to lose. In my loneliness, I may as well extend kindness towards others." he said. "Cheers?" he offered, and Bucky cracked the tiniest of smiles. Forgetting HYDRA wasn't going to be easy, finding a new life wasn't going to be easy, even socialising with others wasn't going to be easy. But at least now he had a place to stay, and a cup of tea. So he raised it.
"Cheers."
