Marvel Cinematic Universe
The Path Not Taken
By Gabrielle Lawson
Chapter Two
Steve was impatient for the doctor to finish checking his wounds. He felt so much better already. He was still sore but he knew he was healing already. He just needed the doctor to sign off on his discharge. Beside him, Sam looked like he wanted the doctor to say no. He'd been something of a mother hen. His near-constant proximity reminded him of his younger, pre-serum days when either his mom or Bucky would sit with him when he got the flu or had a bad asthma attack or his heart was acting up because it was too hot out. Those weren't his happiest memories.
"Maybe later this evening," the doctor began.
"Doc, I know the serum better than you do," he said, hoping to convince her. "I'll be able to run a three-minute mile by this evening."
"And I don't want you running a three-minute mile today or maybe even tomorrow." She started writing in his chart.
Steve gave her his most earnest expression. "I promise, no running, no jumping, no lifting heavy objects. I really don't think I can lay here another hour without going stir-crazy."
She pursed her lips. She was considering it. "No shield-throwing—"
"Shield's in the Potomac." He batted his eyes at her.
"No punching, martial arts or acrobatics of any kind," she went on.
"No one's left to fight for a few weeks anyway. I promise," he told her, "lots of rest and taking it easy."
"And no stretching." She seemed finished after that one. Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine. Let me process the discharge. And you'll wheel out in a wheelchair like every other patient."
Steve smiled. "Deal!"
She left and Sam shook his head. "You are a giant baby."
Steve looked up at him. "I need to see him, Sam."
Sam sighed and sat down. "I keep thinkin' he oughta come here. I told you what they did to his head. He should get an MRI or cat scan or something."
Steve considered that. Would he let himself be examined? "A girder fell on him, too. Could be internal injuries." Did the doctor check for that when he set his arm? Steve thought of all kinds of things. He didn't want any of them to take Bucky away again.
"Doc just set his arm as far as I know," Sam told him. "But he wouldn't let them take off his tactical gear anyway. Natasha took him some dry clothes but he wouldn't change. Said he didn't know her."
Steve didn't like the sound of that. Bucky's clothes had to have been wet if he'd pulled him from the river. He'd probably hide any other signs of weakness, too. He's had seventy years of conditioning. Steve's stomach hurt when he considered the enormity of those years. Bucky had suffered alone for seven decades, even if they'd made him forget that he was suffering. They had to have done terrible things to make him the assassin that he fought in the street and on the helicarrier.
"Natasha said he's eating so he must feel alright." Sam picked up his jacket. "I'm gonna go by your place, get you some clean clothes. Don't leave until I get back."
Steve nodded and Sam left. He wanted to get up right now but he'd made the doctor a deal. So he laid back and tried to relax, to not think of the horrors his friend—his brother—had suffered.
Natasha had found him sitting in the corner near the head of the bed when she arrived. He was still in his probably-dry-by-now tactical gear. "Something wrong with the clothes I brought?"
"I don't know you. Or them."
Self-consciousness was not something she would have suspected in the Winter Soldier. But he wasn't that anymore. He was changing, just from what Steve had said to him. Sam had said he'd cracked him open. "Did you sleep at all?"
He didn't respond right away so she started setting out breakfast on the table. Remembering Steve's appetite at Sam's, she had brought extra helpings for him.
"I don't know how."
Natasha bit her lip to keep her reaction steady and casual. Maybe he was never out long enough to need sleep. She realized that he probably didn't know anything that wasn't relevant to his last mission. Or whatever he could remember of his recent past. He'd been wiped barely more than a day ago.
"Well, when you get tired enough," she told him, "you just have to lie down and close your eyes. It'll come. We all need to sleep. We need to sleep and we need to eat. I've brought breakfast. Come and see."
He unfolded and joined her at the table. She named all the foods for him, along with the milk and orange juice. "Maybe try a little of everything and then eat as much as you want of what you like."
His face stayed fairly blank but his eyes held so much more. She was able to decipher what could possibly be wonder but also confusion. She held out his seat. "Go ahead."
She sat down herself and started eating. She cut her waffles with her plastic fork and knife, knowing that he'd watch and copy her movements. He did as she said, sampling everything once. Then he returned to the waffles. She smiled, noting to herself that the Winter Soldier had a sweet tooth.
She ate slowly since she had so much less than him. She didn't want him to feel rushed. Each time he went to a different food he looked to her as he needed her permission. She just smiled and nodded.
"Is Steve repaired?"
She hadn't expected that though she probably should have. Steve was the only one he really remembered. "He's better," she told him. "He might be discharged today."
He still looked confused. "Being a person is… different."
She forced herself again to not react. "Better?"
"Some." He tried the orange juice and then held the cup away from himself.
"Orange juice has a rather bold flavor," she said. "It can be sour, especially after you eat something sweet."
He tried again, and now that he wasn't surprised, he drank the whole cup. "This is better," he said after he'd finished. "I often felt empty." He touched his stomach area.
"Hungry. We call that hungry." He probably knew the words but not what they described. Because those words hadn't been relevant. "What isn't better?"
"The restroom. It felt… strange."
She could imagine how that had gone, but she didn't ask. It was not breakfast conversation. "Well, we have to do that, too. What goes in, eventually comes out."
"And there are the many hours with nothing to do. It's… I wanted a mission."
That could be dangerous. He was, technically, still brainwashed, still programmed. But she understood. A mission would give him focus and not leave him with hours with nothing to do but think with his amnesiac brain. "Can your mission be to learn to be human again? I mean, you always were, even if Hydra didn't treat you like one."
"I can't do that when I'm alone. I have no reference. I don't understand why they didn't let me be one."
Well, that was deep. It seemed that was more Sam's territory as he was a counselor. "Hydra is evil. They didn't want to treat anyone well. But it's probably the only way they could get you to do what they wanted. If you had remembered who you are, you would have fought against them. They knew you were strong, too. Stronger than all of them. But if they kept you subservient, they could control you. They treated you like a weapon instead of a man."
His eyes were sad. "I was Steve's friend."
"Yes."
He put his fork down and leaned back in his chair. "The others ate food and went to their residences. They talked to each other. They didn't talk to me. Pierce had a big house with a lot of food. He talked to me."
He just kept surprising her. "You were in Pierce's house?"
"Three nights ago. He offered me milk. I did not know what it was. He gave me a mission. Two people, level six, confirmed death in ten hours. Captain America, Steve Rogers and Black Widow, Natasha Romanov. He shot Renata. She forgot her phone."
The police or FBI were probably all over his house now. They probably found the body. "So you do know me," she teased.
"I shot you. But I failed that mission, too."
That was more than yesterday. "What is the earliest thing you remember that's recent?"
He took a moment. "Pierce's kitchen."
That was the night before the wipe. Maybe his super healing meant his brain would heal, too.
"Pierce confuses me. He talked like I am a person. But he struck me. And then he said, 'Then wipe him and start over.'"
"He was trying to manipulate you," she realized. Maybe he did see his Soldier as slightly more than a weapon. "But when that didn't work, he just went back to treating you the same way as the others."
He pushed his chair back and started pacing again. She guessed that was his coping method. "Barnes, please come sit down. We can talk about something else."
"I remember Steve," he said without stopping his pacing. "Before. Steve and me—mostly Steve. Then nothing. Then Pierce's kitchen. That machine… . They took that from me!"
She stood and met him there in the middle of the space. "They did. But you're free now. You already remembered a little more. Before the machine."
He stopped and his eyes were fierce now, as fierce as they had been in the street yesterday. "Where is Pierce?"
She didn't flinch from those eyes. She made a point to soften hers. "Dead. Fury killed him. We put all of Hydra's secrets on the internet. Hydra's and SHIELD's. Hydra agents are being arrested all over the world. You don't have to fight them."
"I want to."
She could feel his power standing in front of him. He was a force. She'd seen that yesterday. He'd nearly killed Steve. But she had to back him down, be one more person to negate his wants. She didn't like that part. She gently touched his arm in the sling. It was tense, his fingers balled into a fist. "I get that. They hurt a lot of people. They hurt you. But they're done. There's no one to fight right now. And you're still… repairing. Healing. You were a person before, and you need to remember how to be one now."
He turned, taking his arm away. He stalked to the wall and punched it hard, burying his metal fist a good inch into the concrete. She could hear the guards move behind her. She turned. They looked scared. She waved them back.
"I'm a person," he said, still facing the wall, "then I had people. Family. Where are my people?"
She did not want to be the one to break that to him. The chances of any of his family or close friends—except Steve—still being alive were very slim. "It's been a long time," she said, hoping to soften the blow.
"You still have me."
Natasha sighed and turned to see Steve and Sam between the guards.
"Can we have the room?" Steve asked.
Natasha nodded and started picking up the dishes from breakfast to put them on the tray. Sam dismissed the guards. What could they have done anyway, if Barnes had lashed out?
Sam joined her at the table to help. Then they walked out together. "We'll be just down the hall," he said to Steve.
Bucky dropped his head to the wall but kept his fist where it was.
"You keep that up, you'll collapse the whole dam. It's quite an arm." Steve's face was still sore from it. "You remember me?"
Bucky turned and slid down the wall until he was seated. His upper arm was splinted and he was wearing a sling.
Steve used the wall to lower himself down on Bucky's right side.
"I see you in my mind," Bucky said, facing forward. "But you're small and the world looked different."
Steve smiled, remembering. "I was small and it was different. You grew up and I just grew older. I wanted in the Army so bad, I volunteered for an experiment after you shipped out. A super serum. I'm thinking Hydra managed a version of it with you."
Bucky shook his head. "I don't remember. When I see me in the before, I don't have this." He held up his gloved, metal hand.
"No, but you were strong anyway," Steve told him. Then he clarified. "Normal strong. I wasn't. I was weak and sickly. But I didn't like bullies so I'd end up in fights with them and you'd have to save me from being completely pulverized."
"Did I know you big?"
Steve nodded even though Bucky still wasn't looking at him. "Yeah. I surprised you though. You were already in the army. I was a fake soldier, doing shows to sell war bonds. But I heard that your unit had been killed or captured. I had to find you. They were doing something to you. You were sick but I saved you."
"I tried to kill you. Twice."
"You pulled me from the river."
"I shot you, stabbed you."
"I broke your arm," Steve reminded him. "But you're right. You won that fight."
"You stopped fighting."
Steve nodded again. "I did. I wanted to reach you. I couldn't do that by fighting."
"Hydra told me to do those things. Pierce. They took my memories."
Steve was sure they did a lot more than that, to make his friend align himself with his torturers. Still, he'd be thankful if Bucky never remembered that pain though. "I can help you remember."
"How are we still here?"
Steve blew out a breath. It still shocked him sometimes that he was still here. "Well, for me, it was a lot of years in an ice cube in the Arctic. Quite a shock to wake up in 2012."
"And me?"
At this point, they could only really guess. But if he was frozen, it would explain why Natasha couldn't find him back in 2009. "Sam told me about the video they showed you. They talked about cryo-freeze. Sounds like you might have been in that quite a bit, so it's similar. Until you, I had no one left. Peggy's still alive. She's old now and she has trouble with her memory, too."
"Was she put in a machine?"
Steve shook his head. It hurt to talk about her but Bucky knew her, too. "No. Sometimes, when people get old, they forget where they are, who their family is. We saw it with old Mr. Baker, two doors down. They have name for that now: Alzheimer's. For Peggy, it comes and it goes. Sometimes, we're talking and she's all there. Then suddenly, it's like she's seeing me for the first time since '45."
"I don't remember Peggy."
Steve realized he had something that might help. "She had dark hair, red lipstick, a British accent and mean right hook." He dug in his pocket and pulled out his compass. He opened it, and it heartened him. He handed it to Bucky.
He held it in his right hand but frowned. "Did I know her?"
"A little. I loved her." He sighed. "I still do."
Bucky handed the compass back with his metal arm. "Did I love anyone?"
"Besides family, a woman? No. But you had a lot of opportunities. You were quite the ladies' man, but always a gentleman."
"Ladies' man? What does that mean?"
"It means girls loved you." Steve chuckled remembering. "You were handsome, a great dancer. You treated every girl right. Never made them do anything they didn't want. Except maybe pressuring them to bring a friend for me, since I couldn't get my own dates."
Even as he smiled, he felt a certain sadness. Bucky should have had the chance to fall in love and have a family. "I'm sorry I didn't save you."
"Natasha said you did. And you said you did."
"I made you remember yesterday, and I saved you back in '43. But I lost you in '44. We were fighting Hydra. We heard Zola was on a train in the Austrian Alps. We zip-lined onto it. You got blown out the side of it. You were protecting me—again. I tried to reach you. You were holding onto a rail. I should've climbed out farther. Your rail broke. I should have caught you. If I had, none of this would've happened. You'd have lived your life, like you were supposed to, grew old like Peggy. But I didn't and Hydra got you again."
Bucky gasped. "I fell."
Steve's throat hurt and a tear slipped from his eye. "Yeah."
Sam was tense. He kept looking toward where Steve and Barnes were. His arms were crossed and his brow furled. "He won't hurt him," Natasha said, "if that's what you're worried about. He's only hurt the wall."
"It's not that." Sam sighed. "Steve wants to bring him home."
Great minds, she thought. Barnes was getting bored. He needed constant interaction to learn to live again. "I think it's a good idea."
Sam looked at her like she was crazy. "Dude tried to kill us two days ago. He shot you. Nearly killed me again yesterday, and got even closer to killing Steve."
"He had to," she argued. "You saw the video. He couldn't not try to kill us. Not until Steve got through to him." She crossed her arms, too. "Hydra made him a weapon. He needs to be a person. That would be easier in a home."
"Steve's place is all shot up."
She just raised her eyebrows and waited for him to get it.
He held up his hands. "Oh, no. No! Not my home. He killed my car. You saw what he did to a concrete wall. I only have drywall."
"He needs better coping methods," she told him, tilting her head. "You know a few of those, don't you?"
He wasn't convinced. "Tortured, brainwashed veterans are above my paygrade."
"He's not ready for group therapy anyway," she held. "He needs to be human first. He's like a baby, Sam." She touched his arm. "He only knows what he needed to know to accomplish his missions. That didn't include proper meals or looking after his own hygiene, or even sleeping. I had to tell him every food on his plate. He didn't even know what it meant to like one of them. Steve will be there for the heavy lifting. You'll be there to help Steve understand what's going on, keep him away from tractors."
He smirked at that. Then he sighed. "Fine. Temporarily. Just until Steve's place is fixed or he moves."
Natasha smiled. "I'll help, too. I'm gonna dig through all that Hydra data, see if I can find him, what they did to him."
"Nothin' good," he assured her.
She had other ideas, too, though she didn't voice them. That red star on his shoulder, for instance. That was a Russian star. It wouldn't surprise her at all if the KGB had a hand in creating and using the Winter Soldier.
