Chapter 3 - A Chance Encounter


Steve always woke up early. His military training from decades past and the possibility of what a new day would bring had conditioned him to enjoy pushing back the covers and letting the chilly morning air caress him. This morning, however, as he lay awake while the sun climbed higher and higher, he couldn't get out of bed. His mind was still suck on the man from yesterday. His hair. His face. His eyes. He needed to see him again. His thoughts were interrupted however, when the Star Wars theme ringtone of his phone (thanks to Sam) started blaring, and Cap answered the incoming call from Natasha.

"Nat, hey." he said, trying to shed any remnants of his emotional displacement from his voice.

"Hey, Stripes, guess what, I'm being reassigned." the red-head replied. "This small town in Germany, heard of a supernatural threat that needs taking down." Cap wasn't sure what this had to do with him, but his questions were answered moments later. "And you're coming with me." Cap's chest tightened.

"What?" he asked, sitting up. "Nat, that's really nice of you to think of me, but, what assistance could I offer for taking down a supernatural threat? I think a ghost can fly through Vibranium." he said. Nat only laughed.

"You're not coming as my partner, you're coming as a vacation. I know that missions have been getting to you recently, so I thought you'd like some time away. No battle training necessary, just you, me, a possible threat to the free world as we know it and some amazing beer. Whyadd'ya say?" she asked. Cap sighed. He closed his eyes and rubbed the space between his eyebrows. Nat was right, missions were getting to him. He knew that he had always wanted to serve as an American hero, but, even Captain America couldn't handle the stress sometimes. Emotional suppression could only help for so many missions.

"Sure. I'll go. When do we leave?" asked Steve as the excruciatingly loud hum of a helicopter's blades began to fill his ears. He looked over to the floor-to-ceiling-windows of his campus bedroom where he saw Nat piloting a helicopter right outside, with a massive smirk on her face.

"How does now sound?" she yelled into the intercom. Steve smiled. His friend was always so amazingly confident with perfect timing for everything, he was so grateful to have her in his life.

"Gimme ten." he said, and the the two hung up.


Bucky woke up in the too small bed, a cold sweat running down his neck. The nightmare had been so real. It was dark, he was running through an endless series of black hallways. HYDRA was chasing him. Brock Rumlow had pounced on him, pinning him to the ground. Bucky tried to fight but he was numb, no part of him capable of defence. Rumlow pulled out a knife.

"Did you think you could escape us, Asset?" he spat, and plunged his knife right into Bucky's throat. He screamed. "So you can never scream again…" Rumlow had whispered into his ear as the dream ended, and Bucky woke up with a jolt.

Bucky breathed heavily, clutching his throat. The pain had been so real, he could still feel the sting where the blade pierced him. His sweat ran down his forehead and neck. Had he screamed? Had he disturbed anyone? He hoped not. Bucky's breath managed to slow, and he reviewed his surroundings. The sun poured in through the open window, the soft curtains flowing in the breeze. The room was filled with light, illuminating the wooden floors and plain walls. His first day of freedom and already, the sun was on his face. He closed his eyes and let it all sink in. He was free. HYDRA wasn't there to control him.

You're ok… He whispered to himself, clutching the sides of his head. They can't get you… they can't get you… you're free now… you can do what you want now…

The only problem was, what would he do now? He didn't think that there would be an assassin ring in this small German village. But killing was all he had ever known. Pushing those thoughts aside, Bucky thought about how he would cope in this little corner of society. As long as he kept his metal arm covered, he wouldn't have an impossible time fitting in. HYDRA had injected him with several microchips that enabled him to speak upwards of 25 foreign languages. He could speak Russian, French, Italian, Romanian and thankfully, German, in addition to English of course, as well as many others, so communicating wouldn't be a problem. But his mindset surely would. The nightmares would plague him for ages, he was positive they would, but every time Bucky thought back to Captain America, a part of him felt more ate ease. Just think of him... he told himself. Just think of him...

Letting out a sigh, Bucky got out of bed. "ust ignore the nightmare for now… He told himself. You don't want to be a burden… he had slept in his full outfit from the day before. He had never felt truly at home in years, if ever, so as an effort to not impose, he hadn't even taken his shoes off. Bucky made his way downstairs where Zemo was making breakfast. The pop of the toaster was heard as the ex-Winter Soldier descended the stairs, and Zemo decorated a piece of bread with a thick spread of blueberry jam.

"Good morning, James. Sleep well?" Bucky didn't want to lie, but, it was probably for the best. For now, anyway.

"Yeah, thanks again." he said. "For everything." Zemo smiled and continued setting the table. For a guy living on his own, he was surprisingly homely. Zemo saw the hesitant look on his guest's face.

"Come, sit." he offered, and Bucky did as he was told. Zemo placed a plate in front of Bucky and the two sat down for breakfast. "So," began Zemo "any plans for today?" he questioned, taking a bite of toast.

"Well, I'm sure I would freak some people out if they saw this." he lifted his left arm. "I think I'd better stay out of everyone's way." Zemo nodded.

"There are some clothes of mine upstairs. Borrow whatever you wish." Bucky couldn't believe Zemo's kindness. He was a complete stranger, and yet here he was, at Zemo's dining table in his house and being offered salvation with no thought of getting anything in return. He was going to owe him a huge debt after he got back on his feet.

"I can't thank you enough." said Bucky.

"As I said, James. I am a man with nothing to lose." said Zemo, smiling as he took a sip of coffee, and Bucky smiled back.


Cap and Natasha landed in the middle of the picturesque countryside. Nat hopped off the chopper and waved goodbye to the co-pilot, who tossed them their overnight bags, and the two set off.

"So. Germany, huh?" Nat said to Steve.

"I was here yesterday." the blonde replied. Nat laughed.

"Well, welcome back."

"How long to the meet up point?"

"I thought you liked a workout in the morning. The buggy's two kilometres that way."

"Well alrighty then."

The two rode into the village of Twister's End, parking their buggy outside the Ariel & Eric Inn. Cap swung his bag over his shoulder, and Nat did the same. Being trained as an assassin since birth, Natasha could speak every European language, so checking in for the both of them was easy. Nat and Steve made their way to their hotel room, which consisted of two single beds that stood against one wall, a large, wooden closet against the other and a door led to a small bathroom. The wallpaper was vintage and rustic, as if the inn was modelled from a farmhouse, but it was pleasant nonetheless. Nat pushed the curtains aside and looked over the small town square.

"Cute, ain't it?" she said, glancing over at Steve who sat down on one of the beds, his hands in his lap. "What's up?" Asked the red-head.

"It's just… thank you for this, Natasha. It means a lot." he said, a look full of appreciation on his face, and Nat smiled back.

"Well, you're very welcome. Now I'm gonna go shower, so if you peak, I'll murder you. See you in thirty."

"Thirty?"

"Hey, I don't judge your life choices. Thirty." she said as she closed the bathroom door. Steve let out a laugh and went to the window. It really was beautiful here, maybe he did need a vacation.


Bucky had selected black jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a black jacket and gloves for his ensemble, although he kept his own boots. Zemo had asked if he would accompany him on a grocery trip, and of course Bucky couldn't say no, so the two set out for the stalls out in the town square. For such a small village, there seemed to be many inhabitants. Dozens of people walked in and out of buildings, along the paths, or down the hill leading to the ocean. It freaked Bucky out. It's okay… He told himself. No one knows who you are. You're safe…

Bucky and Zemo made their way towards the fruit stall, and Zemo looked through the jam selection while Bucky checked the list and picked up some plums to add to Zemo's shopping bag. He was just about to turn around and get whatever else was on the list, when he saw him.

The man from the train.

He was here.

Bucky's eyes widened to the size of saucers, his heart skipping a dangerous number of beats. Thoughts invaded his mind and an unbearable ringing sound seemed to fill his brain, until he was swimming in a sea of his own heart rate. He looked around, looking for something, anything, a way out. Zemo noticed Bucky's panic attack and came over.

"James," he questioned "are you alright?" Bucky breathed heavily, not knowing what to say. Without thinking, he dashed off in the other direction, heading into the woods. "James!" Zemo called after Bucky, causing other people to turn their heads, but he was gone.

Running past the green landscape, Bucky finally came to a halt. Bending over to catch his breath, he sank to his knees on the forest floor. He didn't know why he had had a panic attack back there, but there was something about this man that made Bucky feel weaker, more nervous and more peaceful somehow at the same time.

It wasn't long before Zemo found him.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "There you are. What happened back there?" he questioned, and went to stand behind Bucky. But the man with the metal arm didn't reply. Zemo sighed. "James, I know we've known each other for less than 24 hours, but I'd like to know you're okay." Bucky closed his eyes and tried to block it all out, but it didn't work. Giving in, he looked up, his fair falling back to reveal his face.

"I saw someone I knew." he said through shaky breaths. "Well, I don't really know him. But I saw him… before…" he almost seemed to whisper. "On a mission. HYDRA sent me to kill him, but I couldn't do it. He kicked me off the train in under two minutes…" Zemo sighed and came around to stand in front of Bucky, sinking to his level to make eye contact.

"James, I knew since the second I saw you that you are the Winter Soldier." Bucky's face slackened before contorting into an arched eyebrow of anger.

"What?'' he whispered.

"The arm is a bit of a giveaway." Zemo replied.

"Then why did you let me stay with you if you knew that I'm a…" Bucky couldn't bring himself to say the word 'monster', even though it felt right. Luckily he didn't have to, as Zemo proceeded to cut him off.

"Like I said, I am a man with nothing to lose. I lost my wife and child in the destruction of Sokovia two years ago, I moved here for some peace. I figured, if a mad assassin was going to snap my neck in my sleep, I probably wouldn't care." Zemo said with a facial expression that showed no hint of emotion, or any trace of trauma left on his mind. Perhaps he truly was a man at peace. Bucky couldn't help but feel jealous at the idea of being able to just live no matter what, to wake up in your skin everyday and to have the ability to deal with it.

The two sat in silence for a few moments, the palpable tension between them clear, but the quiet rustling of leaves in the breeze and the sound of the nearby ocean distracted the two from cutting the atmosphere with a knife.

"I'm sorry." Bucky said after a while. "About your family." Zemo sighed and cracked a small smile.

"Thank you for your condolence, James." he said. "We best get home now. I doubt our problems will be solved out here." Bucky nodded and the two stood up, heading back towards Zemo's cottage.

"Thank you." Bucky said to the man several inches below him. "For caring about me." Zemo nodded.

"The problem with the world, Bucky," Zemo began "is that people do horrible things because they think they are alone. But they never are. The least we can do for people in a state of such brokenness is let them know that someone is willing to glue them back together when they are ready." Bucky was touched by Zemo's words. They were simple, yet, so true. The loneliest orphaned child was once loved by someone, the most powerful terrorist has others that support them, the most hated villain once had a friend. No one is ever alone, but as the two walked through that little patch of the German countryside, Bucky wondered, how was mankind ever to know that?