Steve slowed the rusty red pickup to a halt in front of a sagging, boarded-up barn. It was the last hiding spot they could check - all the rest were empty or destroyed.

"What do we do if he's not here, Steve?" asked Bucky quietly, pulling out his pistol and cocking it. He put one hand on the door handle as he waited for his companion to make a move.

Steve stared at the steering wheel in a half-conscious daze. The possibility of losing one of the few friends he had left was...mind-numbing. He shook his head and pulled out his shield from the backseat. "I don't know," he said softly. "But he will be."

As the two approached the secluded structure, a familiar face appeared in the doorway and the Falcon began walking towards them.

"Sam," breathed Steve. "Thank God." But as they grew closer Steve could sense that something was off - Sam was smiling...but his eyes weren't.

With a jolt Bucky saw the nose of the sniper rifle pointing out the window, aiming at his chest. In a frantic voice he started, "Steve, it's a tra-"

But the soldier had noticed it before his friend, and in a single movement he shoved his shield into Bucky's hands and pushed him to the ground. "Get down!"

"Steve! Watch-"

But it was too late. In helpless agony, Bucky watched as his best friend took the three shots meant for him, before crumpling to ground, motionless and silent.

Steve's vision blurred to color, accompanied by an excruciating pain in his stomach and ribs. Every labored breath he took was a raw struggle. As his sight came into focus, he saw blood pooling on the wood floor beside him. He assumed it was his own. His hands were tightly shackled around the post behind him, forcing him into an uncomfortable sitting position, and not even allowing him to use his hands to put pressure on his wounds. If he didn't stem the bleeding soon...he might not make it.

Sam turned his head as he heard Steve's groan, guilt and regret putting tears in his eyes. "Cap...I'm so sorry. They took Sharon, and I did what I thought you'd want. They promised not to shoot-"

"Shut up!" barked a HYDRA guard, knocking the air out of him with a forceful kick. Sam coughed and lowered his head, his fists tightened in anger.

Steve's head throbbed as he turned, trying to locate Bucky or Sharon. "It's...okay…." he managed to get out. "But...where's…." He clenched his teeth and let out a shuddering breath. The prisoner felt his mind slipping away before he could even finish his question.

The rhythmic beat of the monitor pulled Steve into consciousness. His eyes fluttered open and he was greeted by Sharon's alleviated smile.

"Oh, Steve," she gasped, a tear rolling down her cheek as she squeezed his hand. "Don't scare me like that!"

"You're safe," replied the man, letting out a relieved sigh.

"But you're not," she whispered.

Sharon was right - Steve recognized the room as one in a SHIELD holding facility.

"How'd you get me in here?" he asked hoarsely, dread overcoming his momentary relief.

"It's not as if they could let you bleed out on their doorstep. But, you're sort of under house arrest. Meaning, don't leave this room."

"Has the director been notified?"

Sharon lowered her voice. "That's my job...and no. He won't be, if I can help it. I'm at least going to delay it until you're stronger. I'd hate for you to be...well, y'know."

In a sudden flash, Steve recalled the last thing he remembered - Sam shackled across from him in the shady, dim-lit barn. Bucky wasn't in sight.

"Where are they?" He demanded, his gaze sharp and determined. He squinted his eyes shut. Oh God, tell me they're not-

"Sam's fine - just resting his bruised ribs in the next room over," she reassured.

"And Bucky?"

The woman hesitated. "We...I...couldn't convince the operative to search long enough to-"

"He's in the hands of HYDRA?!" cried Steve, his voice raising. "You let them take him?!"

"Steve, you were dy-"

"You should've left me to die!" he shouted, clenching his fists in fury, his eyes tearing up in despair. "They'll destroy everything we've accomplished! How do we even know if he's still alive?"

"Steve...we don't. I tried to convince them to stay but I have almost no authority anymore! I told them you'd be angry-"

"That they put more value on me than him? Because I'm a strategic pawn and

He's too far damaged? I'm a heck of a lot more than angry!" The man ignored the pain as he ripped the covers off the hospital cot and the IVs and monitors out of his arms. He pulled his jeans on and ignored the fact he had a hospital gown for a shirt, glancing around the room for his shield. But then he remembered he had given it to Bucky.

"Steve, don't you dare leave! You're not ready - you'll get yourself killed! I'll get a team together to find him-"

Steve punched the glass out of the room's single window and climbed out, grateful it was a ground-level floor. Every step he took was agonizingly painful, but for Bucky? He'd rather die than let them brainwash his friend again. He only hoped he wasn't too late.

"Steve, wait!" pleaded Sharon, realizing he wouldn't settle for anything less than going after the captive himself. She sprinted over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "I'll give you a lift."

"That won't be necessary," interjected Sam, appearing behind them, fully decked out in his suit. "I heard you from next door and figured you'd need a ride." He spread his wings as Steve began to protest. "I got you into this mess, I'm gonna get you out."

Sharon crossed her arms. "I'm coming with you."

"Fine," consented Steve, unhappy that his friends were involved in something dangerous with him. He knew he wouldn't be able to talk them out of it. "We're gonna need some guns…." He shrugged at Sam. "And a bigger ride."