A/N: Hey! So here's the next chapter, hope you guys like it! As always, if you notice anything off or miswritten please let me know :)

Steve opened his eyes, groaning as white fluorescent light burned his eyes.

"Mr. Rogers?"

He blinked. The light glinted off a blond woman standing in front of him. Her long legs were clad in delicate stockings, and a long fur cloak fell around her body like waves of snow. She was wearing a dress of some sort, short and white. She arched an eyebrow at him as she eased back in her chair, a slightly malicious smile curving over her full lips. "I'm Emma Frost," She said calmly, "do you know where you are?"

"No," he croaked, "what happened…" He blinked and the screams filled his ears, the ring of gunshots cutting through him like knives. "Did you..did you kill them? The family I was with?"

"Yes." The woman sighed as she stood. She must have misinterpreted the look on his face because she added, "Don't worry, you're with Hydra now. You are perfectly safe." A knock came on the door. Steve looked at it carefully. It was made of some heavy metal, steel or iron, nothing he could break out of. The woman tisked and turned back to him. "If you need anything…" She trailed off and shrugged, "I'll be back soon."

Steve said nothing as the door closed. Grief was heavy in his chest, but he didn't dwell on it. He had to get out of here. He looked around the small room. His arms were chained together, his feet similarly so. He was sitting on a cot, but that was the only thing in the room besides a small bowl next to the bed, presumably for going to the bathroom. Steve struggled against his restraints, wincing as they chafed against his skin. He frowned as he saw his hands. They were pale pink, nothing like the lobster red he had been before. How long had he been asleep? The door opened. A man walked into the room. His face was lined and elderly, and oh so familiar. Steve blinked as pain flashed through his chest. "Captain, are you here to kill me?"

"Do you know who I am?" The man asked. His hair was short and white blond, his eyes narrow and blue. He moved with the grace of someone who knew power, and how to use it.

"No," Steve whispered, his throat burning.

"I am Alexander Pierce." The man smiled, "We used to be friends Steve, do you remember?"

"I've never seen you in my life," Steve said coldly, "and if we're such good friends, why am I chained up?"

"I said we used to be," Pierce sat down on the bed next to Steve, reaching out to grip his chin as if to examine his face. Steve jerked away from his touch, but Peirce only smiled. "You and I will be talking later," he stood, "and if you do not tell me what I want to know, I will let Miss Frost interrogate you." Peirce began to turn away but stopped. "Tell me," he said, "where were you born?"

"Your soldiers murdered that family," Steve hissed coldly, "shouldn't you care where they were born?"

"It was an unfortunate incident," Peirce raised his hands placatingly, "one of my soldiers saw the father going for a gun."

"So they shot the whole family?" Steve snarled, lunging against his restraints, "What kind of monsters are you?"

Something flashed in Pierce's eyes. It looked like fear, but it was gone before Steve could be sure. Peirce turned away and knocked on the door. Steve waited until the door was closed behind him before he glanced down at his cuffs, wiggling his hands experimentally. He had seen Natasha break out of cuffs before. She had broken a few fingers, but what was that compared to what was awaiting him with these monsters? The cuffs around his wrists were made of some kind of metal. They were fitted to his thin wrists tightly and he huffed as he tugged on them. The door flew open, three men rushing into the room. One slammed a needle into his arm. Steve snarled, his struggles growing weaker as whatever was in the needle took effect. The other two pinned him against the wall, checking and double checking the cuffs for damage.

Steve groaned as the tranq took full effect. His body went limp, and his arms hung down at his sides as the guards carefully lowered him onto the cot. How many times was this going to happen? His eyes closed sleepily. Was this what Bucky had gone through?

It was three days before Peirce came back into the room, this time with a small leather pouch cupped in his hands. He started out asking about Steve's past, his childhood, how he met Bucky. Steve didn't say anything, he simply stared blankly at the wall behind Peirce. Finally, Peirce gave up on being kind. Steve knew he would. The man was a bully, and there was nothing Steve knew better or hated more. Pierce reached into the leather bag, pulling out a needle and a vial of silvery liquid.

"It's a toxin," Pierce squirted a little bit of the liquid out of the needle, "it will cause you to feel excruciating pain." He smiled pleasantly at Steve, "Now, are you going to tell me the truth?"

Steve stared at the wall and Pierce sighed as he bent down and injected the contents of the needle into Steve's arm. One heartbeat, then two. With every second that passed, Steve expected the next one to bring excruciating agony.

Peirce only smiled more pleasantly as Steve's breath caught and his eyes slammed shut.

"It will only get worse," he sat down in the chair facing Steve. "Now where were you born?"

"I'm not going to tell you," Steve panted then a groan escaped him as his jaw locked up and his body tensed. It felt like someone was removing his organs and brain simultaneously while driving a drill into his spine.

"Perhaps you don't know then." Pierce leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with dark pleasure, "Have you forgotten?"

"None of your goddamned business," Steve snarled. A polite knock came at the door and a nurse stepped in, dressed in thick blue scrubs. "You asked for a nurse, sir?" He asked. Pierce nodded and leaned back in his chair. "He's probably going to lose control of his body functions soon from the pain," he stood and walked to the door, "and I need lunch, call me if he wants to say anything."

The nurse nodded and sat down in Pierce's chair as the door swung shut. Steve did his best to ignore him. His face was mostly covered by a mask, and his hair covered by scrubs. Even his hands were covered in thick gloves. It almost looked like he was prepped for surgery.

"You gonna cut me open?" Steve asked, "Make me talk? Cause I ain't gonna." His New York accent was bleeding through his voice. He didn't even know if the nurse could understand him, not that he cared except for the fact that it might give Pierce a clue about where he was from. He would know as much as Steve then.

"Calm down," the nurse's voice changed. It was less nasally, deeper. Steve's eyes flew to the nurses own. "The camera's don't have sound, but they can see your face. Don't say anything, Natasha is coming to get us."

Steve sighed in relief. It was Bucky. He was alive. He groaned as his head began to pound like the worst migraine of his life.

"If you relax your body as much as you can, the pain lessens," Bucky crossed his legs, calm like they were discussing the weather. Shouts rang from outside and Steve sat up. Bucky pushed him back down and looked above Steve's head warily, "Don't move. Every second they don't know I'm in here is important." The door burst open and Natasha threw an unconscious guard into the room. Bucky quickly helped Steve to his feet.

"You ready?" She asked, her face cold and blank. Steve nodded and stood, trying to muffle his groan of pain as Bucky pulled Steve's arm around his shoulders.

The hallway was littered with motionless bodies. Steve looked away as he saw blood seeping from under one. "They're Hydra agents," Bucky said as he slid his arm around Steve's waist, "they don't deserve your pity."

"Did you have to kill them?" Steve asked, "Wasn't there another way."

"Most of them are still alive," Natasha said coldly as she hit the elevator button, "Unfortunately." She flashed him a sudden smile, "Didn't want you harping on me the whole way back for killing everyone, Rogers."

Steve gasped as his legs almost gave out beneath him. He gritted his teeth and forced his legs straight. He had suffered through asthma, diabetes, and heart palpitations, and they had made him stronger. He wasn't going to fail his friends just because of some stupid Hydra toxin.

The elevator opened and Bucky stiffened as Pierce stepped out of it. "Soldier," he greeted him, "I thought that might be you."

Natasha moved closer to Bucky, her gun suddenly in hand and aimed at Pierce's heart. Steve wondered why she didn't fire. Pierce didn't have a weapon, and there were only two guards behind him. She could take them out easily.

"I see you found Rogers," Pierce addressed Bucky, "I thought you would, your emotions for him have always interfered with your programming." He smirked, "Do you remember?"

Bucky snarled, his arm tightening around Steve's waist. "I remember everything," he spat, "I remember your torture."

"Then kill me," Pierce spread his hands on either side of him, "I'm unarmed." His smile widened, "Or do you not want Rogers to see that side of you? The real Bucky. The real monster in Hydra."

Natasha fired and Pierce yelled. Steve groaned as Bucky dragged him forward and threw him into the elevator, yelling for him to stay there as shots rang through the corridor. Just as soon as they started, they stopped. The two Hydra agents were lying on the ground, blood seeping from their bodies. Pierce was writhing in agony, his hands clenched over a bleeding wound in his leg. Natasha was standing over him, her gun aimed at his head.

"Let's kill him now," she said calmly, "he'll only cause more trouble later."

"Natalia," Bucky said warningly. Natasha sighed and dropped her gun, turning away and stalking into the elevator. Steve panted in pain and Bucky frowned in worry. The neon light was hurting Steve's eyes. Acid was crawling through his veins and every movement made it more potent. "They killed them," he whispered, "the family. They were all dead."

Bucky looked at Natasha silently. "We found the bodies," she said, "we knew they must have captured you."

"Just because they were trying to help a stranger," Steve flinched, leaning back against the side of the elevator, "What kind of monsters kill children?"

Bucky flinched. Natasha looked away. Steve was in too much pain to notice.

The elevator door opened. Bucky grabbed Steve and helped him out, ignoring his faint protests. Steve felt cold air brush against his cheek. Something wet touched his face. He opened his eyes, gasping as he saw all the white laid out before him.

"Is it…" He swallowed, "Is it snow?"

Natasha nodded as she pushed the gate open. Hydra agents were littering the ground like trash at a landfill, blood staining the pale snow scarlet. Steve could smell the death, iron from the blood and a horrible bitter scent from lighter stains in the snow. He gritted his teeth as they walked past the gate. He gestured for Bucky to release him, the pain fading enough he felt he could walk. Bucky did so with a soft snort, remaining close to his side in case he fell.

"Where are we going?" Steve nearly stumbled over a body, "There's only snow here."

Natasha smirked at him, holding up a tiny remote with a red button on it. With a wink, she pressed it. Steve raised an eyebrow when nothing happened.

"Behind you, Einstein," Bucky snarked and Steve turned around. If he wasn't in so much pain, he would have been in awe. He had seen a small quinjet before, from a distance, when he was younger, but this one-though still small enough for reconnaissance-was much bigger.

Bucky smirked, "Close your mouth, Rogers. This is nothing. Wait until you see the helicarrier."

Steve's mind spun as Bucky helped him up the ramp. Natasha slid into the pilot's seat, closing the door with the flick of a button and activating whatever made them invisible to the naked eye.

Bucky slid into the copilot seat, saying something in Russian as they began to rise from the ground. Steve tried to make himself comfortable, taking Bucky's advice and relaxing as much as he could. It did help, a little bit. Steve didn't let himself think about how Bucky knew that or how many times the same toxin had probably been used on him.

They flew for hours over miles and miles of snow before Natasha judged it safe to land. The toxin had begun to fade from Steve's system by the time they hit the ground, and the pain had lessened. He could vaguely hear Bucky and Natasha speaking together in Russian as they prepared to rest. He felt a spike of jealousy in his chest. Of course, they would be chummy after doing a whole mission together, a mission to rescue him. An overwhelming feeling of uselessness bloomed in his chest, but he pushed it away. And what was the jealousy about? It wasn't like he cared if Bucky moved on to more useful friends.

Maybe that was it. Steve hated feeling useless, and maybe he had grown to like Bucky a little bit more than he should have. Natasha laughed and the jealousy returned full force. He had to get out of there. Steve pushed himself up, Maybe there was a bathroom around here or something...

"Stay down," Bucky was beside him before he could take a step, pushing him back down on the uncomfortable seats. "Movement could still hurt you."

"I'm fine," Steve waved him off, "Don't worry about me. I can handle myself."

"Really?" Bucky's voice was sharp. "What were you thinking running away like that? I know I scared you when I..did what I did, but Hydra is everywhere. Natasha and I are the only people who can protect you."

"I don't need protecting, okay?" Steve batted his hands away, "I'm not a child. I've been protecting myself long before you came here, and I will be long after you're gone."

Bucky stepped back as if Steve had slapped him. Steve took the opportunity to flee to the small bathroom at the end of the plane. He could hear Natasha saying something in Russian, but Bucky didn't reply.

The bathroom was small, and after five minutes it seemed pathetic to hide in there any longer, no matter how awkward the situation was outside. Natasha was gone when Steve came out. Bucky was sitting in one of the chairs, sharpening a knife with some fancy Shield tool.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" Bucky examined the knife. "I would if I could. I don't want you to be hurt though, and Hydra won't let you be just because I do."

"If you want to leave, you should." Steve sat down on the seat across from him. "Where's Natasha?"

"Natalia went to find Agent Carter." Bucky turned over the knife and began sharpening the other edge. "She'll be back soon."

Steve cleared his throat and looked away. "So you know each other?" He asked, "From before?"

"I trained her." Bucky didn't look up from the knife. "We were lovers."

"Oh," Steve said. It was all he could think to say. Then the words poured out of his mouth. "Are you still?" His cheeks flushed with mortification. How was that his business? Stupid brain. Stupid Hydra. Stupid soviet assassins.

Bucky paused, a slow smile curving over his lips. "No," He returned to sharpening the knife, "She loves someone else."

Steve flushed as Bucky tested the edge of the knife against his finger. "Well since that's the case," he began, "would you like to get drinks sometime?" He'd been thinking about it in the bathroom, how maybe he liked Bucky a lot more than he should. He meant it to come out smooth, but honestly, his voice sounded more like a pre-pubescent child who had drunk too much coffee.

Bucky leaned back, sheathing the knife in his belt. "I thought you were waiting for Mr. or Ms. Soulmate?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You can't spend your whole life waiting for something that may never happen." Steve crossed his arms, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes to what?"

Steve jolted forward as the door opened and Natasha came in, another woman behind her. It was the latter who had spoken.

"Steve's going on a date with me," Bucky winked at Natasha. "Jealous?"

"I have Clint," Natasha said firmly, "He's the only one I get jealous about."

"I'm certainly jealous," the woman took off her goggles. Her accent was musical, British maybe. "I'm Peggy Carter," she held out her hand to Steve, "I'm one of the people who keep Shield up and running."

Steve pushed himself to his feet and shook her hand. "Steve Rogers, ma'am. It's very nice to meet you."

Peggy smiled, "A pleasure." She turned back to Bucky. "Where do you intend to go from here?" She asked, "You can't be planning to stay in Russia."

"I'm heading to Moscow," Bucky reached down and pulled a box from under his seat. "There's a Hydra safe house there that I need to find. After that…" He looked at Natasha.

"Is what Peirce said still bothering you?" She asked quietly.

"There are still gaps in my memory." Bucky took off the top of the box. "Big ones. I had always thought that they were when I was in cryofreeze, but now…" He shook his head as he pulled out a huge sniper rifle. "Did you bring the files I asked for, Agent Carter?"

"Yes," Peggy unzipped her jacket and pulled a leather satchel from where it had been pressed against her chest. "The paper will freeze in these temperatures, so make sure you keep them inside." Bucky took the satchel but didn't open it.

"Some of those things are better left unknown, Barnes," Peggy warned.

"That's what everyone says," Bucky said coldly, "until they don't know."

A/N: Oh boy. We're in the end game now (sort of). So. What do you think is really going on? I'm curious what you guys think. I adore Peggy. Honestly. She's just fabulous. And a DATE! Finally! Expect it to come to fruition next chapter. Thank you so so much to everyone who commented, favorited, and followed. Honestly. They are like little sparks of joy in my inbox. Knowing people like what I write is a huge relief. Anyway thanks again and I hope you guys are having a wonderful New Year!