Hello there! I will start of by saying I am so so sorry for making you wait this long! I just finished my last semester of college and then moved across the country. I haven't had a lot of time to write or try and post again. Back when I last updated it was from a friend's computer because mine was still having problems. Apparently, now it's fine? Not sure but I'll roll with it. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy! And thank you thank you thank you for sticking with this story! Let me know what you think :)
It took longer than expected to find the HYDRA base where Amy could be held. "Could" being the key word. Natasha had called Steve with the news and told him where to go. He hadn't questioned her. He, Bucky, and Sam sped to the destination as fast as they could.
"You think she's still alive?" Sam asked under his breath. Steve was extremely grateful the other man had come along. It had been unspoken that he would come but it meant a lot. If Steve was honest, Sam was the man he wanted at his back today rather than Bucky. His old friend was barely keeping it together and Steve – he still didn't know where they stood. He would trust Bucky with his life but this mission involved more than one life and Steve wasn't sure he could juggle all of the responsibilities without some support. Sam had Steve's back, Steve had Bucky's, and Bucky – he had Amy.
"I don't know," Steve replied honestly. He really – he didn't know what to do. Bucky was visibly distraught and teetering on the verge of losing control. Steve could see it in his friend's eyes and there was absolutely nothing he could do. Before, he would have said or done something stupid and Bucky would have laughed and called him a "punk." But now…Steve knew he couldn't pull him out of this. Not only had the old Bucky changed but they'd never been in a position like this with a woman. A woman that Bucky deeply cared for. Steve didn't know if he should call it love but whatever connection they had, it was deep.
Natasha had the chopper running by the time they got there. She had the cockpit door shut, which was odd, but was up without Steve needing to give the command. A flag popped up in Steve's head and he resolved to look into that later. He needed to thank Natasha for giving him such immediate help. She – besides Sam and Bucky – was one of the few people now that Steve trusted with his life. That and Charlie. Steve's stomach flipped, suddenly envisioning Charlie in Amy's position. Charlie would be fine, right? Amy had been an army engineer and Charlie was just a baker. There was no reason Charlie would ever be in Amy's position. That argument wasn't very strong but he pushed away his thoughts. That would get him distracted and he needed focus.
"You're sure she's here?" Bucky asked after a few hours.
"That's what our best intel indicates," Steve said. They were on the West Coast, just about to reach Portland. He handed his phone around so Bucky and Sam could take a look at the plans again. Steve wanted to make sure they were as prepared as they could be. He would've liked a few more days to prepare, know what they were getting themselves into but Amy might not have a few days left. If she had any time left at all. Steve watched Bucky readjust and touch something on his wrist that was covered by his glove. He watched as his friend settled down from the panic that had been creeping into his eyes a second ago. He kept going back and forth between control and barely under control.
"You don't have to do this, you know," said Steve. It wasn't the first time he'd brought this up but he couldn't help it. As much as he believed there was more than just a connection between Bucky and Amy he couldn't – he didn't want to lose his friend again. Selfish as it might be, Steve didn't think he could handle losing Bucky again. But maybe he would if Amy didn't come back. Because if he was being honest with himself again, it wasn't Steve that had brought Bucky back; it was Amy.
"Yeah, I really do."
"You're sure you're up to it?"
"I've spent the last fifty years killing people. I think I'm good for one last mission." Steve watched as Bucky set his jaw and his presence hardened.
"That's not what worries me." Bucky looked at him and saw through the slight lie. Yes, Steve was worried that Bucky might lose it. That's why he'd only built their team on three people instead of asking more people to join. He'd thought about asking Natasha but something had told him not to. But there was more to his worry…
"It's been ten days now," Steve continued. "She might not be-" He stopped at Bucky's look. He hadn't seen it that cold for a long time and it confirmed his fear. If Amy didn't come back, Bucky might be truly lost.
"Sorry to interrupt your chitchat, boys, but we just lost the element of surprise," Natasha said through their earpieces. "We'll sweep low over the beach. They should lose visual. I suggest you still use the storm drain to access the base." Steve took a deep breath and put on his helmet, grabbing his shield.
"How low are we talking, Natasha?" Sam asked, checking his gear too. "Because one of us normally needs a parachute when he jumps out of an aircraft."
"Low enough." Steve threw a sympathetic glance towards Sam who rolled his eyes. Bucky stood up and pulled open the door. The wind roared outside and tugged the three men closer to the door.
"Well, Steve, you giving the order to go or not?" Bucky asked. Steve set his jaw. He had doubts – so many doubts – but just by asking, Bucky was proving he was in control. At least a little bit.
"Let's move."
"Where is everyone?" asked Steve. "We should have encountered a guard by now." He was tense, alert and every sense he'd acquired told him this was bad. This was when he would have pulled the team out. But that wasn't an option.
"They've got to be a little understaffed since Washington, don't you think?" said Sam. Steve agreed with him, partly. But something still felt wrong. Steve picked up his pace, trying to catch up to Bucky who had pressed on ahead. Suddenly, he was coming back and Steve instinctively knew what to do. As Bucky grabbed Sam by the shoulder and pushed him into safety, Steve flattened himself against an opposite doorway.
The gunfire filled the corridor, sparking off the walls. Steve allowed himself to fall into soldier mode and focus on the target ahead. They needed to get through this first batch of HYRDA soldiers and then –
Bucky was there. He was everywhere. He moved just as fast as Steve, fists flying, legs kicking. He pummeled through the mess of enemies using only his limbs and disregarding the gun that was at his side. Steve was distracted. He fired at several people but missed or shot wild. He hadn't seen Bucky fight for a while, almost convinced himself that it wasn't as vicious as he remembered but –
"Bucky!" Steve called as he lost sight of the other man. But he didn't listen. Steve knew he was ignoring him. And it stung, just a little.
"Da****t!" Steve refocused and aimed his gun. The gun clicked, out of bullets. He cursed again and used a right hook to take out the soldier who'd gotten too close. Soon, the ones who Bucky hadn't touched surrounded Steve and Sam and there was no time to reload. Steve used his fists and shield to knock them out, resolving to question them later when they took the base. When had he accepted that they were going to take over the base? Steve pushed the thought aside and ran after Bucky.
"What the hell is the plan?" Sam called. Steve had no idea.
"Find Amy and get out," Steve said. "Maybe take over the base."
"You're not serious."
Steve tried to figure out which way to go.
"Steve, no. That is not what we came for," Sam said more forcefully. Steve sighed, re-evaluated.
"Right. You're right. Save Amy and get out."
"D**n right." They came to a set of steps and vaulted up. Steve rounded the corner and heard the click of the gun. He froze for a millisecond before Bucky lowered the weapon.
"You took your time."
"You found her," said Steve, bursting further into the room. Amy looked bad. Really bad. Her face was a collection of bruises, her shoulder dark, body incredibly weak, and Steve though he heard rasping. She didn't have time left. Then Steve noticed the dead man at his feet and the machine that dominated the room. The computers reminded him of Zola and a surge of rage coursed through his blood. He had only to look at Bucky to quell that fury. Bucky's face was a mixture of guilt, concern, and torture. Sam came up behind him and they exchanged a worried glance.
Steve walked towards Amy and took her hands, saying, "Hang in there. We'll get you out." He offered a small smile but he could tell she wasn't registering what was happening. They needed to get her out. Now. Steve caught Bucky's intense stare in his peripherals and he again wondered what kind of connection these two people shared.
Maybe that's why he missed the door shutting by a second, missed his instincts that said this was a trap. He made a mistake and he felt the guilt hit him as his shield rebounded back to him from the closed door.
An odd hissing started. Gas. Sweet odor? Probably nitrous oxide. Steve chose some choice curse words in his head, biting his tongue to avoid saying them out loud. How could he have gotten so distracted?
"You can open that, right?" Sam asked. He nodded at the heavy metal door. "I mean, you can bench press like a couple of ton or something crazy, can't you? So that'll be no problem."
Steve knew he couldn't open it but he tried anyways.
Nothing.
Bucky came up on his left and tried to push it open too. It didn't budge. Stupid, stupid mistake! He wasn't supposed to get distracted. Bucky's breathing changed minutely and Steve glanced at him. Bucky was trying really hard not to lose it but this – this room, this trap – was going to send him over the edge.
"What kind of lock is it?" Amy rasped. It sounded even more labored now.
"Nice idea, but I doubt we can pick it," said Sam.
"It sounded automated." Steve and Bucky shared a blank look but understanding flashed across Sam's face.
"Give me your phone," he said urgently. "Let's see those plans again." Steve handed him the phone and watched him take it to Amy. He could tell how much effort it was taking her to stay focused, stay conscious. Steve glanced at Bucky and watched him stare at Amy intently. He was avoiding the machine and computers in the room. The rage felt like it was burning a hole through Steve's stomach. Or maybe that was the guilt.
"It's an electromagnetic bolt lock. Fail-safe. Hopefully," Amy said, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
"Why hopefully?" he asked.
"It'll unlock. If the power's cut."
"And how do we cut the power from in here?"
"We blow something up," she said. Then she tried to look behind her at the machine and Steve felt Bucky tense.
"No, Amy."
"Yes, Bucky. Unless you'd rather wait. Pass out. Let HYDRA capture everyone. Kraus would love that I'm sure." Steve watched Bucky grind his teeth, look everywhere but the machine, and then stare at Amy. There was a subtle interplay, a communication between them that Steve had never seen. And he was surprised that Amy was even arguing with Bucky. Their connection went a lot deeper than Steve had guessed.
"You can't give up either, okay? You can't let them in your head today, Bucky." The strength of her voice was fading. "You can't leave me now."
Steve watched his best friend stare at the woman in front of him and regain control. He took a deep breath and the panic that had threatened to take over was pushed back. Steve had guessed right. If they lost Amy, he lost Bucky.
"How safe is blowing up that thing while we're trapped in here?" he asked. He was trying to shift his mind to business, to focus on the mission – there was just a lot going on. Amy shifted her gaze to him.
"I'll get you guys out. I promise."
"Amy," Bucky growled. Steve shook his head.
"We came to rescue you," he said.
"And I'm very grateful. But no one's rescuing anyone. Not if you don't blow the power, Captain."
The mention of his title allowed Steve to push away his lingering emotions. They could be taken out and examined later. Right now, they needed to get out.
"Okay. Here's the plan," he said. "Sam, you stick with Amy. Amy, I want you to show Sam how to sabotage that machine. I know you're hurt, so he'll do the work for you. Bucky, you're with me. We're going to build a barricade between that thing and the door."
Charlie placed the gun on her shoulder, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. The gun kicked back but she held it firm. Hitting the safety, she lowered the gun to the ground and looked at the target.
"Not bad," Bentley said.
"For my fifth round, I hope it's not bad," Charlie quipped. Bentley gave her a look and she smiled.
"Alright I get the hint. Three more shots and then we'll stop for today." Charlie nodded and turned back to the target. She took her time and focused on her form during the last three shots. She and Bentley had been out shooting for over an hour. It had been a long time since she had gone shooting and her form had been off. Bentley corrected her in his kind but gruff way. Shoulder up. No. More. Good. Widen your stance. Arm up. Good. Frankly, Charlie was done. She appreciated his concern for her and needing to be comfortable around guns but she was tired. Her kitchen and a mixing bowl sounded like heaven right now.
"You pick it up quick," Bentley said, taking the gun she offered.
"Thanks. I forgot how powerful the gun is until I practiced."
"Yeah, that's always good to know." Charlie nodded in agreement. Bentley glanced at her and then at the target. She walked towards it and took it down, choosing her next words carefully.
"Bentley, is there a particular reason you wanted me to practice today?" Charlie asked. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer. Bentley sighed, scuffing his shoes in the dirt.
"Look, I don't want to put silly, paranoid ideas in your head it's just," Bentley hesitated.
"It's the people hanging around town, isn't it?"
"You've noticed?"
"Of course I've noticed. They stick out like canaries in a raven's nest." Bentley snorted, not looking at her. She lived in a small town so any newcomer was obvious. But these newcomers, they had a different tone to them. Most were men, tall, muscular, and very intimidating. They wore normal clothing but Charlie couldn't shake the feeling that they were bad news.
"What are you going to do about it?" Bentley asked. Charlie shrugged, confused by the question.
"What am I supposed to do? I keep going to the diner and baking. They'll leave soon enough when they realize there's nothing here."
"I don't think it's that simple." Bentley was watching her closely now. Charlie scratched her head and tried to push away the feeling of panic that had been building. Of course she knew it wasn't that simple. These men were everywhere and she always felt like she was being watched. She'd tried to convince herself that it wasn't what she feared. It wasn't connected to Steve and how much they talked. But more and more, it did look like that.
"You know if you told your boyfriend-"
"Bentley," Charlie snapped. He gave her a look and crossed his arms. "We are not boyfriend and girlfriend. We are just friends." They'd had this conversation more times than she liked. Honestly, couldn't she just enjoy Steve's friendship without people jumping to the conclusion that they were a thing?
"If you told him this was happening," Bentley continued, ignoring her refusal. "He'd come and sort it out."
"He doesn't have time to deal with my childish fears-"
"They're not childish, Charlie. This could be a serious threat-"
"Could be, Bentley. I don't know if I'm just being paranoid because I talk to him and hear the horror stories. Until I know for sure, I'm not going to tell him. Besides, he's been silent for the past day so I think he's on a mission," Charlie rambled. Bentley sighed.
"Fine. But if this gets worse, I'll call him and drag him down here myself."
"Thanks Bentley, but I don't think that will be necessary."
"So another mission, huh?"
"Yeah, not sure where…" they fell into easy conversation, jumping into Bentley's old truck. Charlie tried to relax back into her day but it didn't feel right. Things had seemed unstable ever since SHIELD had fallen. She guessed that mysterious, creepy men were one of the effects. But she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong – that something was about to change.
FYI - You should definitely check out Aulizia's story Broken Pieces. It's amazing! And it shows a lot of detail that I can't necessarily show from Steve's perspective. The chapter that this pairs with is Chapter 15 and a sentence from 16. Go check it out! :D