Setting: AU: Monday, April 7, 2014: Washington D.C., United States of America
"Get your hands off my husband!" An overwhelming need to protect the large, haunted looking blond on the witness stand overtook Bucky and he couldn't hold back the scream. He simultaneously stood and slammed both hands onto the defense table, handcuffs rattling, metal limb leaving a small dent in the wooden surface, shooting a glare at the prosecutor manhandling the witness. Amid gasps and shocked voices, some loud, some mere murmurs, several people slammed Bucky to the floor.
Landing face first on the hard wooden floor, feeling the pain of his lip splitting and his nose smashing, hopefully not breaking, Bucky instinctively went limp. 'Don't fight back,' he told himself. 'Let the enemy think you're weak then make a . . .' He cut off the second thought, reminding himself forcefully that these were not enemy combatants. He was in a courtroom and he was considered the enemy. He had to calm down and stay submissive to avoid heavier chains or even more drugs.
He was heartily sick of the drugs constantly pumped into him over the last two months.
One man, the bailiff Bucky thought, whispered hoarsely in his ear, "stay down and stay calm, Barnes. Don't fight us."
It wasn't a threat and Bucky didn't take it as one. He obeyed the very sound advice. If he fought, they fought. If he remained still and obedient, things would go smoother - - and his fugue state might not trigger. Bucky hated those times recently when he got so emotional he blacked out. It was the main reason he'd been put on anti-psychotics or whatever drugs they put him on.
Very softly, Bucky responded in a rasping voice, "sorry. I'm sorry. I won't do anything. Promise. I'm good now. Is he okay?"
The bailiff seemed to understand instantly who Bucky referred to because he quietly said, "yeah. He's being taken to a separate room. The prosecutor's being disciplined by the judge. Now, you stay limp. We'll lift you ourselves. Don't try to help, just let us do the work."
As Bucky verbally agreed, not even risking a nod, he felt several people lifting him from the floor and moving him from the courtroom, surrounding him. He wasn't sure if anyone watching could determine that the defendant had literally been carried, but that wasn't really important. He'd already disrupted the court and put things at risk for his case. He'd do it again to try to protect Steve.
It had been a shock when the bailiff had led the tall, well built blond into the room and to the witness stand. Steve hadn't gotten any smaller, any less muscular, but he seemed smaller - - no, sicker. Despite the serum surged body, Steve Rogers had appeared pale and almost shaking. He'd been defiant and proud, though, the same as when they'd been kids and Steve had stood up to the world. Bucky wondered just what had happened to Steve - - what had they done to him.
He knew Steve had been charged with treason as well. At least, he'd been charged with aiding Bucky who was charged with treason, so it might as well have been the same charge. Had they tortured, imprisoned, drugged Steve, too? Well, not torture. Bucky hadn't been tortured; he'd been detained and drugged, questioned and studied, but he hadn't been tortured.
Surprise laced the brunet as he felt himself laid down on a cot instead of the floor or a couch. He lifted his head instinctively and the guards stepped back, a medical staff member hurrying forward to tend to the injuries even as the wounds slowly began to heal before them. The medic nodded at Bucky and claimed, in general, "no breaks. He'll be okay."
Bucky shifted his eyes to the bailiff and the man, a burly redhead that reminded Bucky of a smaller version of Dum Dum, nodded and said, "you calm enough we can let your lawyer in? He'll let you know what to expect and if the judge slapped more charges on you."
Eyes closing briefly, Bucky drew a breath in and nodded once. "Yes," he answered softly. "Please. Thank you."
Stepping over to the door, the bailiff opened it and called out to get Mr. Nelson. He waited, the other security personnel backing away from the unresisting Bucky. When the door opened to allow the gentle blond lawyer, all but two security guards, including the bailiff and the medic, left them alone.
Slowly, Bucky sat up on the cot and studied his lawyer, part of a duo hired by one of Steve's friends to defend the Winter Soldier. "I'm sorry. I . . . I . . ." How to explain the uncontrollable urge to protect Steve without sounding like he couldn't stop himself from violence?
Foggy walked over and sank onto the cot beside Bucky, hands folded in his lap. He studied the larger man silently until Bucky merely dropped what he'd been trying to say. With a nod, the soft spoken lawyer asked, "are you really husbands or are you trying to protect a possibly vulnerable friend, Bucky?"
Closing his eyes, feeling a flush come over him, Bucky had a sudden memory of a cold winter's day in a very small, run down apartment. He'd been in his long underwear and had stated vows he'd crafted on his own. Steve, tiny, vulnerable Steve, had recited his own. They'd exchanged rings, Steve using a chain for his own since his fingers were too small. Letting the memory go once more, Bucky opened pained light blue eyes and softly said, "not in church or by law. But we've been married to each other since just after high school. Exchanged vows one Christmas." Despite the rather vivid memory, Bucky couldn't recall what year the ceremony had taken place. "Steve was still tiny back then, so before we went to war," he added, mentally confirming that much.
With a nod and a soft smile, Foggy asked, "do you know what your actual presentation is? Anyone tell you?"
"Yeah," Bucky met Foggy's eyes. "Alpha. The Winter Soldier program only accepts Alphas. But they might change someone to an Omega if they wanna breed them."
"Change . . . is that possible?" Foggy sounded shocked.
"Sure is. But," Bucky shrugged, "I don't know how they do it. Might wanna raid their hideout in Siberia. Foggy, did I totally fuck the case?"
A smile spread on Foggy's chubby face and he shook his head, soft blond curls shimmering under the backroom light. "No, Bucky. I think you helped us. Might have gotten rid of the rape charge completely if we can prove you both are mated, or married, and consenting. Tell me about your outburst, Bucky. What you honestly felt and thought." The man turned his full attention on Bucky, giving him the same respect he'd always presented the prisoner over the last two months in their online interviews; it had only been very recently that they'd been permitted to meet face to face due to Bucky's perceived violence.
"Anger, but not the kind you feel when you want to wreck something or throw something," Bucky started then fell silent. "More of a jealous anger? Not that I don't trust Steve. A protective anger." Oddly enough, despite the years apart and the totally reasonable idea that Steve might have found someone else in the interim, Bucky didn't doubt Steve had stayed true and celibate. His husband was that pig-headed and stubborn, and Bucky adored him for it. "I was angry at Gordan for manhandling Steve. Steve doesn't look well. I think he's sick."
Surprise lit Foggy's features and he slowly said, "I'll see what I can find out, but I'm sure he'll be okay. Modern medicine . . ."
"He shouldn't get sick with that serum in him, Foggy," Bucky insisted softly. "So, I felt almost like Steve wasn't going to fight back because he was sick? I know he would, so it was unreasonable, but . . . it was overwhelming. Like . . ." Bucky shook his head and growled softly to himself without realizing, "like I had to stake my claim so the guy would let up."
Bucky missed Foggy's smile.
"And in your partnership, your marriage," Foggy asked, "who is the dominant one? Who is the . . . top and who the bottom? Are you familiar with those terms?"
"Not in the way you mean, I think," Bucky frowned at Foggy. "Steve's demanding and I generally just go with the flow and do what he wants. I don't mind doing what Steve wants." With a soft shake of his own head, Bucky added, "Steve likes to experiment or demand, I enjoy pleasing him." It felt embarrassing to admit to such things to a practical stranger, but Bucky pushed his own feelings aside in the interest of this case.
His answers, however, seemed to surprise Foggy. "So, you let him act like the Alpha and you more of the Omega?"
Meeting Foggy's eyes, Bucky frowned, puzzled. "I don't know about that. I'm not familiar enough with how you mean the terms. What I was taught in the program is that an Alpha is the one who goes in to fight, lead or solo. An Omega is a breeder. Betas are fodder."
"Bucky, I believe we would like to have you tested for presentation, please," Foggy suddenly blurted. "And have your body documented, genetic testing, everything we can think of. Is it possible you are an Omega?" He stood and paced a bit as he added, without waiting for Bucky's reaction, "we need your military files. Your Winter Soldier files if possible. Does America have access to those?"
"I'm not sure who has access to what, Foggy," Bucky watched the other man's pacing. "But if America does, that'd come up at trial, wouldn't it? They'd have all my missions in a neat list, wouldn't they? And they didn't present such a list yet." He paused then added, "do you really think I'm an Omega, Foggy?"
"Not sure," Foggy sighed and stopped in front of Bucky. "You act like an Alpha. But your relationship with Steve sounds more like you are an Omega. Then again, in an Alpha-Alpha pairing, perhaps one Alpha takes on the more Omega role?"
"Huh," Bucky glanced to the door, which opened, revealing Matt Murdock. The brunet defendant continued his thought without interruption, "I always saw Steve as the more protective type. He was almost a mother hen, I'd say. Me? You just point me and I shoot."
Matt softly shut the door and asked, "what have I missed?"
"They had a private ceremony before they went to war, marrying each other. And, the way the relationship sounds, I think we need them both tested. It's possible Bucky's an Omega." Foggy looked towards his blind partner.
"His behavior today marked him as more of an Alpha, but that can't be the deciding factor. Sometimes a person will present one way and his or her behavior will swing another way." Matt looked thoughtful. "Steve's already consented to full testing and disclosure of all records. And he insists he wasn't raped . . . and doesn't dispute the claim Bucky made to being husbands."
"I consent to full disclosure and testing, too," Bucky offered, his tone even. "But, like I told Foggy, I have no idea who has my Russian records."
"We may not need them," Matt said thoughtfully.
"Matt," Foggy stepped over to the other lawyer, "Bucky said that the Winter Soldier program had a way to alter a genetic presentation."
The lean brunet stiffened and turned to face Bucky's direction, gripping his white cane. "Bucky, do you know of any survivors, other than yourself, from this program? Anyone who might have gone through this genetic transition?" Something about Matt's attitude said that he might already know Bucky's answer.
Eyes centering on Matt's red-tinted glasses, Bucky said, "yeah. Any Widow and my old partner, Winter Wolf."
"Any widow?" Foggy asked, confused.
"Black Widow. The sister program to the Winter Soldiers. They were Omegas taught to fight and were made into Gammas before being released into the field. Rumor was that the procedure could be reversed, but I never heard - - or don't remember hearing of it ever happening. Winter Wolf was a WInter Soldier, Alpha, but they took him off to make him an Omega so he would be a breeder. They were trying to decide which Widow to re-transition, change from Gamma into Alpha, to impregnate him with." Bucky ignored the shocked looks of his lawyers. "I didn't hear if the transition worked for Winter Wolf, though. I was put on ice and we were no longer partners. Don't recall working with him much after training . . . but my memory was fucked."
Shaking himself, Foggy had to clear his throat before adding, "so, it's possible Bucky was also transitioned? Maybe even from Omega to Alpha?"
"Might need the records from Hydra for that info, Foggy," Bucky sighed and leaned back, his back barely touching the wall behind the cot, feeling old and tired. "But most of those were destroyed in an explosion. And Zola is probably long dead by now." A surge of satisfaction shot through Bucky at the idea that his tormentors were long gone; they'd wanted to give him long life and succeeded in helping him outlive them.
"Okay, we'll get what we can. Your former partner was Winter Wolf? We have access to him. He was rehabilitated and works for America now." Matt seemed unaware of the jolt that sent Bucky sitting straight up, but then gave his knowledge away by adding, "he helped bring you in, didn't he?"
"Did he?" Bucky asked, softly, confusion lacing his words. He thought back but couldn't actually recall being brought in. He had been on the run, hungry, in pain, and hiding. The next memory felt hazy and unformed: food and kind voices. A too-soft bed. Then Bucky had been put in detention and the medical staff had been trying to heal him, rebreaking his arm so it could be set properly. They'd thrown questions at him in several languages, most of which Bucky fluently understood, but he'd been too dazed, too confused to really answer them. He'd been trying to absorb what had happened, trying to think through if he was a prisoner or a refugee. Then Steve - - and the drugs and interrogation and detention that followed. "I don't remember," Bucky admitted at last.
"We know where to find him," Matt responded. "Don't worry. Let's get you back to the center so you can get the testing. The sooner we have that information, the sooner we can run it. If we don't get any other information, at least we can have that." The lawyer smiled grimly in Bucky's general direction and backed away from the cot to give the prisoner room to stand.
Foggy nodded. "I'll work on the records. And, Bucky, do you have any marks? It . . ." he flushed a bit but barrelled on, "sounds odd, but did you get any marks from Steve? During the wedding or . . . the wedding night?"
Without letting his face reveal anything, suddenly once more aware of the two court security officers standing by the door, Bucky said, "yeah. A bite mark where my shoulder joins my neck. It's been there for years." He had a sudden flash of someone else trying to bite over the scar but it only causing pain and no lasting scar damage.
"May I see?" Foggy asked, breath catching.
With a shrug, Bucky said, "sure. But I don't have hands to undo my shirt. Left side."
Foggy blinked, looking at the metal hand revealed by the sleeve of Bucky's suit. His face fell and he asked, "that arm - - goes all the way up, right? Maybe even takes out the scar?" The lawyer reached over to unfasten Bucky's tie and the top two buttons of his dress shirt. He pulled the material back far enough to reveal the seam where metal met flesh, also revealing the faint silvered scar of a human bite. Drawing in his breath, Foggy said, "definitely need Steve's dental impressions."
"Let's get you tested, Bucky," Matt said firmly, heading for the door.
Setting: AU: Monday, April 7, 2014: Washington D.C., United States of America
xxx
Clint threw his notepad on the first bed in the hotel room they were staying in, sighing as it fell open to reveal several hand written notes from the trial. He'd been cleared to take it home because the court had looked though it and the notebook only contained information about what testing was needed for witnesses. Clint would need that information for both TJ and Natasha, in case they were called to the stand. He sank down on the bed, just avoiding his notes, and frowned, watching TJ. "So, what did you think about the kangaroo court?"
Snorting softly, pulling off his baseball cap and tossing it on the second bed then collapsing on the bed with an inelegant huff, TJ said, "just a waste of everyone's damn time. Just put him in the rehabilitation program and be done with it."
Nodding, Clint looked towards Natasha, who'd been restricted to a holding room for her wait. Unfortunately, with what happened in the courtroom, her testimony had been put off . . . and she wouldn't have been told what happened. "Bucky claimed Steve was his husband, Nat. Now the court wants to test them to see if they are legitimate mates. Might invalidate Steve as a witness."
Watching Clint and TJ carefully, Natasha said, slowly, calmly, "if they're mates, Steve's testimony cannot be used in Federal court. It's United States law that a spouse cannot be used to testify against another spouse, unless it's completely voluntary. But in civil court, it's fine."
"But the prosecution is sayin' it may not be viable because both Bucky and Captain Rogers are Alphas," TJ rolled his eyes, flopping onto his back on the soft mattress. Looking up at Clint, who sat on the bed closest to the room door, TJ asked, "hey, got any sweets or anything. I'm starving." It became readily apparent after knowing TJ for any length of time that he had an incredible sweet tooth in addition to the typical massive appetite of a serum-enhanced person.
Snickering, Natasha tossed a candy bar at her companion, "here, but dinner's soon, so don't go over indulging." She turned to Clint, "so, this has just opened the trial to the Genetic Rights Movement. I think Ross will be very pissed that he's going to get every single Genetic Freedom person on Steve and Bucky's side." She smirked happily. "I have a feeling if they are, the court might find itself ruling in favor of same genetic presentation matches from here on out. Who are they getting to test the pair?"
"Serves 'im right," TJ commented while chewing. He swallowed his bite of the candy bar before adding, "they'll drag it out even longer 'cause of the tests."
"Tony's permitted by law to have any forensic testing done by his laboratory with observers from the court," Natasha said, sounding calm, answering her own question. "So, he can run any dental they might need in addition to other scans." She laid down backwards on the bed beside TJ and added, "and I have a feeling they might need some bite matches if the pair really are mates."
"Well, they're not the only ones being tested, Nat. Every witness is required to have proof of genetic presentation now. If they don't have it, they are court ordered to get it before they testify." Clint watched her carefully.
She sat up. "You plan to have TJ as a possible witness . . . we'll have to get his testing from when he was first brought in."
"And yours, Natasha. They'll order you to test as well." Clint stood and walked over to the phone, studying a binder of room service options while he stood there. "Oh, but the judge was livid about the fiasco so ordered the prosecution to pay a fine for harassment and didn't even charge Bucky for disrupting the court. I understand the lawyers are looking for a way to set up daily contact, since mates have those rights."
"We already know what we are . . . so, what's the big deal?" TJ asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked from Natasha to Clint.
Natasha met Clint's eyes and slowly, very slowly, said, "Steve might not be an Alpha . . . or Bucky." She blinked and smiled suddenly at Clint's confusion, since apparently he hadn't thought of that. "Steve was a Gamma before the serum. He could be a large Beta or even an Omega. And Bucky could have easily undergone a similar transition to TJ. The point is, their testing can turn this case into a Civil Rights case, and Ross won't want that."
Clint shook his head, "well, Steve seemed pretty lost concerning the genetic presentations, but Bucky chimed in and said that the Colonel they were under claimed Steve was tested as Alpha." He put his finger on one line in the menu and turned his head, "besides, I think even Steve would notice if he had menstrual cycles and stuff if he was male Omega. Kinda hard to hide cramps, rectal bleeding, and mood swings."
"All the above really suck," TJ grumbled to himself, referring to his own transition to an Omega during the Winter Soldier program. He finished off the chocolate bar Natasha had given him then curled up next to her, laying on his side with a soft whimper.
"I know. I was Omega. I used to have those, too, before my ceremony." Natasha claimed in a soft voice, eyes haunted. Glancing up at Clint, she said, "he's most likely an Alpha, but it's possible he's a Beta."
"Well, they said it in court," TJ murmured, relaxing a bit, "back when Captain Rogers was born, they didn't know presentations, right? Well, if they didn't understand presentations, they wouldn't know the signs. Besides, even if he were Omega, they'd probably mark him down as Alpha. No one wants their symbol of American toughness to be a breeder." TJ put a hand to his abdomen and whimpered, "ow . . ."
Natasha looked down at TJ and smiled slowly. "Oh, I think more of America than you realize would get behind the symbol of American toughness being a breeder."
"I'm not talking right now, current day, 'Tasha," TJ's pale blue eyes flickered up to look at Natasha, "I'm talkin' back in the forties." TJ rolled onto his back, whimpering softly once more. "Also, anyone else freaked out about how much Bucky looks like me? Because it's weird."
"Well, they were all about genetic manipulation in the Soldier and Widow programs, so it's possible, since they had Bucky to hand, that they used some of his genetic material," Natasha said calmly. "But it can be to our advantage since we can prove reasonable doubt that Bucky committed the crimes if he has a look alike."
Clint nodded, "exactly why we need to get TJ's results. If we can prove that Bucky might not be the only Winter Soldier running around that looks like him, we can acquit him. Hey, Teej, double fudge cake sound good to go with steak and mashed?"
Letting out a groan of delight, TJ nodded, "God, yes! That sounds awesome. Did I mention I'm starving and it feels like my insides want to crawl out my ass?"
"And in two days you're gonna want something to push back in there," Natasha teased. "Don't worry, I brought your kit with us." She glanced over at Clint. "Ceasar chicken salad for me, Clint. But the cake sounds great." Looking back down at the man beside her, Natasha asked, "need another dose already, Teej? I thought you had them at lunch." It was odd for him to get Omega symptoms while on suppressants, but she was prepared to help the converted Alpha with his special needs.
Nodding, TJ turned back onto his side, "mhmm . . . I took them like I always do. Don't know why I'm gettin' this cramping though. Usually the suppressants stop it."
"We'll have you checked out by a specialist doctor while we're here. There aren't any specialists in our part of Iowa," Clint called over from the phone. He put the receiver to his ear and began ordering their dinner.
Natasha caressed over TJ's abdomen, feeling his muscles quiver. "Wanna take a shower before the food arrives, TJ?"
Clint's personal phone rang and he glanced at the message before canceling the food order. He hung up and said, "Hold off on that for a bit. Both of you are ordered to go to Avengers Tower to get testing. The lawyers agreed that even you, Tasha, should be tested fully since we don't have access to the official Black Widow files on you to verify your presentation. We'll eat on Tony's dime." He eyed TJ, who had curled up from his severe cramping. "And we can get JARVIS to check you over, too."
xxx
Setting: AU: Monday, April 7, 2014: Manhattan, New York City, United States of America
"I never claimed he raped me. I never pressed any charges," Steve sat on a medical diagnostics bed, Bruce working around him with the aid of JARVIS to begin the court appointed testing. Present were Steve, Bruce, Tony, Matt, Foggy, and three court appointed representatives; everyone else had been banned, including Happy and Pepper - - Tony had been instructed not to talk to Steve or about him during the testing so, with difficulty, remained quiet. "That lady was right. How can they press rape charges for me without having me press charges? I'm not incapacitated."
Steve worried for Bucky. Despite Matt's reassurances that no one was abusing the Winter Soldier, Steve couldn't get past the picture of all those people slamming him into the ground at the courthouse.
Matt sat on a chair provided, his braille reader on the desk in front of him, listening intently to all the activity around him, mentally sorting the different sounds and categorizing them. He allowed Foggy to speak for him as he did so; it was quite a bit of new information to take in for the blind man.
Pacing slightly, not obtrusively, beside his partner, Foggy shook his head and said, "General Ross is pressing the rape charge. He's claiming you suffer from PTSD and might think you have to keep quiet about any internal confrontations." Foggy looked straight at Steve, frowning, brown eyes worried. "We believe that's why the prosecutor was pushing the entire aggression angle concerning your unit.
Surprise chased away confusion and Steve asked, "me? He thinks I'm post traumatic?" He snapped his head around as Bruce slipped the needle from Steve's skin and held a piece of gauze over the area. Nodding at Bruce's apologetic smile, Steve looked back at the lawyers. "Okay, how do we counter that claim?" He knew that simply stating that he wasn't suffering PTSD wouldn't stand up in court.
"We're going to need you to get a psych eval, Steve," Matt said firmly, though his manner was professional, not mean. "Ross's people are turning this into a real attack against you, trying to muddy the case."
None of the court appointed representatives interfered with the conversation or testing, though they paid strict attention to both. They would be the ones attesting to the legitimacy of this entire testing process. No one tried to distract the trio, either, though food and non-alcoholic drinks had been provided for their comfort, as well as chairs and a table to take notes at.
"And if I am proven not to have PTSD, they have to throw out the charge?" Steve asked, eyes sliding back to Foggy.
"No, it'll take too long to go that route. This testing . . ."
"Which can take several weeks to finish," Matt interrupted Foggy, "is required by the court. The psychological evaluation isn't. We'll add it on."
"Bucky's post traumatic," Steve said, his eyes centering on the lean brunet with the braille reader. "He was a POW back in October and November of '43. He was very abused." Eyes moving to the court representatives then to Foggy, Steve added, "that's where they started giving him their version of the serum. Hydra had him. When I rescued him, he was put on medication and under watch by the Commandos, voluntarily."
Matt and Foggy both stiffened and Matt asked, "can you describe his reactions if triggered?"
Steve nodded, his face grim, his eyes pained. "He would often curl up but not always. He'd start giving his name, rank, and service number in a variety of languages, over and over. He'd scream like he was being killed. Bad nightmares, too."
Shock crossed all faces, and Bruce finally interrupted by saying, "if he's suffering that badly from his first imprisonment, how's he dealing with recovering memories of the rest?"
"He was on medication for half the war," Steve sighed "Once he was taken off, someone . . . attacked him and he had to be put on a rest break for several weeks. I don't know how he's coped with anything since." Steve suddenly realized that perhaps the mind wiping had helped Bucky deal with his trauma. How bad must he be feeling since having all of the trauma come back to him?
Latching onto the claim, Matt leaned forward slightly and asked, "he was attacked after coming off medication and before going into a rest break. How did he respond when attacked, Steve?"
"Same as before the medicine," Steve met Matt's eyes, despite the lawyer's blindness. "He curled up, screaming as if being murdered, and started his mantra. He was a mess. All of the Commandos knew he had these bad reactions. It's why we stood watch over him, not just our regular watch. We called it Bucky Watch." Steve sighed, pained that he had to reveal Bucky's personal hell. "If he screamed, we could all be killed, but if he was sent stateside, he'd be put in an institution. So, the Commandos banded together to keep him sane. Matt, Foggy . . . Bucky never once lashed out to hurt someone when he was triggered. At least not while he was with us. If anything, he became more vulnerable because he wouldn't fight back. The only thing that kept him calm during the night was someone touching his arm or something and sleeping between him and the door."
Pausing a moment, interrupting Foggy who tried to ask something, Steve added, "the treatments were listed in his medical file and the attack by Lieutenant Rumlow in his military file." He switched his gaze to Foggy. "If you can get those files, you'll have proof of his PTSD."
The group sat quietly for a long moment as Tony set JARVIS up with instructions concerning the next test, apparently straining not to interrupt and get his equipment disqualified for the testing. As the familiar blue light swirled over Steve, Bruce asked, "do you have plans for treatment once you know what presentation Bucky is? He's going to need psychological help."
Foggy shook his head, "we'll have to look into that. The court will most likely order treatment for him."
"You said you'd explain what Tony said about the courts not looking for marriage but for mates. What's the difference?" Steve felt he might know the answer but didn't want to assume anything.
Surprisingly, Bruce answered for the lawyers. "Marriage is just a ceremony for legal monetary reasons. Mating is when a pair bond. It's biological not civil. A bonding doesn't always happen. Actually, it's quite rare since people seem to continually jump into marriages without that actual genetic imperative. They submit to their reproductive imperative instead."
"Bruce . . ." Steve gave a soft warning note. "You're sounding like Tony."
The inventor left the room, obviously struggling too much with a snarky comeback.
With a flush, Bruce murmured, "sorry," under his breath. He raised his voice and said, "sometimes a pair gets together and bonds. Another term could be soul mate, but mate bond can be proven. It's a genetic link formed between the pair that makes them pretty much exclusive - - like swans or eagles. Mates for life. We use pheromone testing, look for mate marks, and use behavioral reactions to prove the bond, as all of those tend to be on an instinctual, not learned level. For instance, when the prosecutor touched you and Bucky reacted so possessively? That can be one sign of a mate bonding."
Steve turned sharply to look at Bruce who shook his own head, "it's only one sign, and not the most reliable. But it was enough for the court to order the complete testing. If you two mate bonded over the years, this can change the way the prosecution has to approach Bucky's case." Bruce held Steve's eyes in a steady gaze, offering a small supportive smile. "He claimed you're husbands. That can be proven by mate bonding and wouldn't require a marriage contract since the laws of today allow that mate bonding supersedes any civil or religious contract. It's been one of my theories, in fact, that a mate bond can happen over a long time in each other's company, not just in one mating. I've theorized the pair doesn't even need to physically mate. But the court will only accept traditional mate bond indicators."
Before Steve could question him further, Bruce turned and called over the court witnesses to see something. Until then they had been monitoring from a few feet away. When the two men and one woman approached, Bucky gestured towards Steve naked torso. "For instance, Steve, can you tell me how you got this scar?" Bruce touched the bite mark on Steve's neck and shoulder joint.
Suspecting it might help, and knowing complete honesty was required, Steve met Bruce's eyes and steadily claimed, "Bucky bit me when we were having sex. Back before the war. It scarred and has been there ever since." He flushed lightly but didn't look at the others present, thankful Tony had left the room and misse the most recent part of the conversation.
Surprised, Bruce said, "before the serum?"
With a nod, Steve agreed. "Before the serum. It's the only scar I had that stayed and new ones haven't formed."
Foggy sounded eager when he asked, "did you bite Bucky, as well, Steve?"
"Yes," Steve flushed. "And as long as I was with him, his scar never faded. Even after Hydra's serum." He looked at Bruce once more. "Bruce," Steve continued to flush but knew the other man was about to register Steve's secret so felt he might as well reveal it first. "I have a tumor or something. JARVIS never got to finish the testing. It'll show up on this scan."
Shock crossed Bruce's face and he immediately began checking the scans. With a nod, apparently spotting something, Bruce claimed out loud, "okay, we can get that checked into without interfering with the case. We can do a full CAT scan. First, let me finish the testing for the court."
"Thanks," Steve sighed and shifted his eyes to the court representatives. All of them seemed pretty shocked as well. He looked to Foggy and Matt. "I have a friend who works with PTSD patients in the VA in DC. He might be able to help Bucky. Sam Wilson. Former military."
Foggy smiled and nodded, letting Matt record that information as he recorded all client interviews. "We'll check into getting him care, Steve. We'll also look into rehabilitation."
"Clint Barton said he's willing to go on the stand to discuss rehabilitation of a Winter Soldier. And his partner can also testify." Steve hoped that would help the case, even though he suspected the lawyers already had that under control.
Without giving away anything, especially in front of the curt representatives, Foggy nodded and said, "thank you."
Before he could add anything else, Bruce said, "I know I'm not involved in the case, but I'm curious. If you can answer, of course. Why is the court being held where it is? Is it a military case, a Federal case, or a civil case? Suspected terrorism falls under Federal, but Bucky is miltiary, isn't he? Shouldn't he be in for a court martial instead? And which does the rape charge fall under? If it's civil, Steve would have to press the charges or his court appointed representative, not General Ross."
Foggy pulled over his notebook and skimmed it, "wait . . . did it happen on military property?"
"No," Steve confirmed. "Bucky wasn't on a base when I saw him. It was Federal property, but not military."
Stiffening, Matt softly stated, "then this shouldn't be in a civil court at all."
Nodding, Bruce added, "it's on civil court because that's where Ross wants it. He wants me to show up in support of Steve so he can catch me."
Matt shook his head. "Then don't come to court, Doctor. We'll deal with the legalities and if it needs to be shifted to another court. You stay away. We don't want to turn this already messy trial into something even more."
"Stay away, Bruce," Steve agreed. "I know you support me. And keep Lucky away, as well. It's better."
Bruce met Steve's eyes then nodded on a sigh. "Okay, JARVIS has set up the CAT scan. We're going to move on to that then photographs and dental impressions." And no more talk of the case took place in front of Bruce or Tony.
xxx
Setting: AU: Monday, April 7, 2014: Manhattan, New York City, United States of America
Very late that night, almost midnight, two different vehicles drove into the Avengers Tower parking facility, received full clearance, and parked. One set of people got clearance to use the private elevator up to the Research and Development due to a medical emergency. The second group remained in the government van and waited for their clearance.
Bucky remained handcuffed with legs shackled. He sat between two security men, not speaking and moving very little. He'd been sedated once more and felt more dazed than anything, staring at the back doors of the government van. The former Winter Soldier had no idea where he was since there were no windows in the back of the van. He'd been turned around, backwards, facing the doors rather than the front, but that wouldn't have helped, either, since a safety divider sat protectively shielding the driver's cab. Blinking slowly, Bucky merely waited for any sign he should move. No one mentioned what the hold up was.
Finally, it came. The back doors opened and the guards aided Bucky firmly, but not roughly, from the vehicle. They let him gain his balance then surrounded him before the five men walked into the open private elevator. Bucky lifted only his eyes to watch the numbers impassively whirling away as the elevator headed towards the top floors of the massive tower. A soft chime signaled then the elevator halted smoothly. Bucky dropped his eyes to look straight ahead, his body in a relaxed posture, his manner subdued and obedient.
He wasn't as drugged as the guards imagined; his serum had burned through the meds within half an hour. Bucky was placid on purpose. This was the first time he'd been allowed beyond court or detainment and he planned to behave so it would happen again. That, and he didn't want to jeopardize the court case with misbehavior. He'd already risked a lot by his actions in court.
Stepping out, amid the guards, into the very well appointed lounge, Bucky let his eyes roam to take in his surroundings. He still didn't move his body, keeping his posture and actions at a minimal threat level to his armed escort. Already he'd overheard one of the guards remark that "this prisoner's a lamb on these meds." Bucky hoped the guard would add a favorable report to his file.
A voice with a British accent intoned over the air, "welcome, gentlemen. The doctor is currently finishing up the emergency procedure. Please enjoy the provided refreshments, including a wide variety of non-alcoholic beverages. I will notify you when the doctor is ready for Sergeant Barnes."
The guards looked suitably impressed and suspicious but Bucky remained impassive. He took in his surroundings by using all of his senses, only moving his eyes but absorbing sight, sound, smell, even air temperature. The longer he remained away from the chair, the more attuned Bucky became to the world as it was and not as Pierce, or any other Hydra handler, had made it. And the memories kept surfacing, jumbling and trying to resort themselves. It gave him almost constant headaches, though Bucky hadn't complained once.
An unassuming man in a too-large suit stepped from a room, accompanied by three people in business suits. The almost rumpled-looking man strode three steps ahead of the others and headed right to the main guard rather than to Bucky or the others. He didn't hold out his hand but he did greet the group.
"Hello. I'm the doctor. I'll be running the scans and other tests on Sergeant Barnes. As you know," the doctor gestured to his three shadows, "we have our court appointed witnesses to verify that all procedures are done according to legal presidence. If the five of you will come this way, we'll get started."
"You have a patient? If the court approves, I can wait until you've seen to them," Bucky suddenly offered. He saw the two attorney's Steve's friend hired; neither man protested Bucky's offer.
The doctor smiled and shook his head. "He's sleeping off his surgery. JARVIS, the Stark artificial intelligence program, is monitoring him. He'll alert me if I'm needed." Turning, the man lead the group into a seperate room from the one he'd first exited. He called, "Do you have a nickname you like to be called, Sergeant?"
Surprised by the courtesy from this soft-spoken doctor, Bucky responded, "Bucky. Or Sergeant. Whichever you prefer."
With a nod, the man turned and smiled back at Bucky, apparently ignoring the restraints. "I'm Bruce. Now, if the guards will kindly step back enough that JARVIS can scan Bucky without accidentally getting multiple person readings? Don't worry. You only have to back up about a foot."
Bucky knew that a foot was plenty of room for him to take out all four guards before they could react. He remained placid, cooperative. He caught Foggy's eyes and held them, trying to relay his cooperation. The blond seemed to understand as, without a word, he offered a smile and small nod of approval.
Bruce waited until the last guard backed up warily then called, "JARVIS, begin scans, please." As a blue light swirled over Bucky, the doctor turned to the prisoner and asked, "your metal prosthesis. How is it connected, do you know? Is it permanent or removable?"
Surprise laced through Bucky and he inadvertently moved his head to look down at his own arm. JARVIS immediately instructed, calmly, "please refrain from moving, Sergeant. This will only take a moment more."
Bucky froze, head still pointed down, and answered without looking for fear of messing up the scans, "it's not quite permanent, but it can't simply be taken off. It needs to be removed with the proper equipment. If it was removed, it would have to be charged, but while it's attached, my body charges it. Basically, Doc, it's part of me."
"Thank you, Sergeant. You may now commence moving," JARVIS politely said.
Bucky lifted his face and saw that Bruce seemed intrigued but polite enough not to probe about the arm - - yet. Instead, the doctor gestured towards a diagnostic bed and said, "next is the blood work. After that, we'll need to do a full CAT scan and take photographs to document your body. We also need dental impressions."
"Whatever you and the court need, Doc," Bucky agreed. He obediently sat on the bed as a guard cautiously approached to release his wrists.
"Can we get him into a johnny now while you're uncuffing him? It'll be easier to document things if he wears the traditional hospital gown." Bruce sounded calm and unthreatened by having a prisoner, chained no less, in his diagnostics room.
The guards exchanged looks then obeyed, but Bucky was not given the courtesy of privacy due to his status as a detainee. Instead, the court witnesses and the guards remained close at hand but respectfully silent and stone faced as Bruce and the lead guard got Bucky out of his own clothes and into the hospital gown. The lawyers watched the guards and witnesses, not Bucky.
Bruce began the blood draw on Bucky's right arm, paying attention to what he did rather than the cybernetic arm which so fascinated him. Bucky, for his part, noted there was one more man in the room than guards or court witnesses. The man seemed to strain to see what happened though he remained half a room away.
Softly, Bucky called out, "are you Mr. Stark? I was told he'd be here to monitor the equipment."
As if simultaneously eager and cautious, almost reluctant, the black-haired man strode forward to Bucky's bedside. "I'm Tony Stark." He apparently fought to say something more - - or to remain quiet if the rumors about Stark were true and the man never shut up.
Meeting Tony's eyes, Bucky had a sudden flash of a car levitating then blurring into a skid against a tree. Pain lanced through Bucky so severely he inadvertently cried out as his left hand went to his head. The former Winter Soldier fought for control as Bruce worried looked him over. Foggy jumped forward and questioned, "what happened?"
"JARVIS?" Tony and Bruce chimed together.
The A.I. calmly answered, "a surge or neuron activity resulting in vascular restriction and neurological imbalances has occurred. This has triggered a pain response greater than most human tolerance. He is most probably experiencing dizziness, nausea, flashing behind the eyes or other visual disturbances, enhanced sensory translation, and severe pain." JARVIS paused then added, as if in afterthought, "Sergeant Barnes is experiencing a migraine."
Everyone looked at Bucky who ignored his own discomfort, keeping his eyes closed against the suddenly spinning room and too bright lights. He ignored the over-loud sounds and strong odors. Instead, he rasped out, "Tony Stark . . . saw . . . father . . . fly . . . car."
Blinking in surprise, not having expected that of all comments, Tony asked, "wait, you were at the '42 Expo?"
"Yeah," Bucky swallowed against his nausea, feeling a shot of something in his arm and registering that Bruce must have given him something for the pain surfacing formerly restricted memories often caused. "Stevie . . . ditched . . . join . . . Army. I saw . . . it fly . . . a moment." Bucky blinked open his eyes as the fast acting medication seemed to ease the symptoms to at least a tolerable level. "Got to . . . talk to him. Offered . . . me a job . . . after the war."
"Huh . . ." Tony glanced over at the guards, lawyers, and court witnesses then back to Bucky. "Put in a resume to Pepper. See what she says. If you're good, i can always use an errand boy."
Somehow, Bucky knew Tony wasn't offering him a job just to run for coffee. He smiled, swallowed, and said, in a shaky but almost normal tone, "if I have an opening soon. A bit tied up right now. But, I warn you, Tony. I make very bad coffee. Only a soldier would drink it." He wondered if Tony, Steve's friend, was merely being polite about the job offer. It seemed like something that would happen back before the war, but the modern era was a lot less trusting and friendly.
"After the testing, at least, Tony. Let him get that done. Are you okay to continue, Bucky?" Bruce looked as solicitous as he sounded.
Bucky didn't chance a nod. He merely rasped out, "good for now. Thanks, Doc. You said CAT scan and pictures? Is there a way to do the pictures while I'm lying down? Then the scan? Give me a chance to catch my breath a bit?"
"Of course," Bruce agreed. "But you need to be nude for that."
"Oh." Bucky didn't want the guards handling him at the moment. None of them were mean, but his skin still felt a bit . . . delicate. "Okay, scans first."
As Bruce bent to aid Bucky in standing, the taller brunet murmured, "what was the blue light if it wasn't a full scan?"
Offering an apologetic smile, Bruce whispered back, "same thing you think it was. But the courts don't recognize it in place of a CAT scan, so we're doing that, too. Really, JARVIS is much more advanced. Makes CAT scans obsolete, but . . ."
"Gotcha," Bucky responded. He stood and let the guards cuff him once more then walked sedately with his guards and the witnesses, lawyers, Tony, and Bruce into the hall and down towards the other room indicated.
A door further down opened and Steve walked into the hall, stopping like a deer in headlights at the sight of the large group. Bucky saw his husband at the same time and their eyes met. Bucky took those few seconds to observe everything he could, mouthing one word before his escort noticed the witness and hurried Bucky back the way they'd come. 'Cariad.'
At least this time, Bucky wasn't being carried after being tossed to the floor.