Things were exploding louder and more often now, and Bucky was pretty sure it was the building shaking and not just him. Despite having been here for…however long he'd been here, he had no idea where they were going. The prisoners didn't exactly get to just wander around. Steve looked like he had a plan, though, and Bucky was content to follow him.

They were up on one of the catwalks high above the factory floor. While it was gratifying to see the place burning to ashes, Bucky would really have preferred it if they could get outside before it did that. A wave of heat shot up from the flames below, and he stumbled back, shielding his eyes. Steve headed up another flight of stairs and Bucky followed, using the handrails to keep himself up. Adrenaline was doing wonders for keeping him running, but it wasn't being super helpful as far as balance went yet.

He could see the bridge Steve was aiming for up ahead. "Captain America!" a sharply accented voice called across the chaos. "How exciting!" Steve stopped and Bucky leaned against the railing beside him, breathing hard. Captain America? What…He looked at Steve, who didn't look confused. Steve, who was carrying a shield with stars and stripes on it. Okay, so, Steve was Captain America. Whatever that meant. What the hell?

The man walked away from the door he'd been heading towards, shoving something in his arms at Zola. Bucky thought he recognized him—he'd seen him around the factory floor, and maybe in the lab a couple of times? The lab was fuzzy, but he still rang a bell. This was the guy who ran the place. "I am a great fan of your films," he declared, addressing Steve as he walked out onto the bridge. Films? Seriously, what the hell? Bucky shot a sideways glance at Steve, who was glaring daggers at the other guy. Okay, so there was some history here. What in the hell had Bucky missed?

"So, Doctor Erskine managed it after all," the man continued. Okay, Erskine. This guy seemed to know about Steve's stint as a guinea pig. "Not exactly an improvement, but, still…" He shrugged. He sounded annoyingly casual, considering the environment. "Impressive," he finished, looking Steve up and down.

"You have no idea," Steve growled, surging forward and punching the guy in the face. Of course Steve punched the guy. Even when he'd been tiny, Steve's solution to way more problems than it should have been was to punch someone. Although…given how strong he'd seen Steve was now, he was a little surprised the guy was still on his feet.

The guy looked up, looking more pissed off than actually injured. He put a hand to the eye Steve had hit, and…oh. Oh, that wasn't right.

"Haven't I?" the man hissed, gloved fist shooting forward. Steve's shield shot up to block it, and Bucky's eyes widened at the noise as it dented the metal. Okay. So maybe this guy hadn't fallen over because he was some sort of super-strong too? Had Erskine made this guy too?

Behind the shield, Steve went for his gun, but the other guy knocked it away, sending Steve to the ground. Instinctively, Bucky moved forward to help, but Steve was already bouncing back, kicking the guy in the chest and sending him flying backwards.

The rail Bucky was leaning on shuddered, and he felt himself being pulled back as the bridge started to move. It separated in the middle, pulling Steve toward him and the other guy back toward Zola. He moved his hands along the sliding rail to keep his balance and stood next to Steve, who hadn't broken eye contact with the other guy.

The other guy pointed at himself, shouting across the chasm at Steve. "No matter what lies Erskine told, you see I was his greatest success!" Okay, so Erskine did make this guy. He was going to have to have a talk with Steve about the kind of friends he made when Bucky wasn't around.

The man on the other side of the bridge reached up to his neck, and Bucky felt his mouth dropping open in horror as the guy started peeling his own freaking skin off. He'd forgotten about the snakes in his stomach, but they were back with a vengeance now, and he swallowed down the urge to be sick as he watched the man pull the last of the skin away, leaving nothing but bright red flesh stretched tight over his skull.

"You don't have one of those, do you?" he asked Steve. Steve didn't take his eyes off Skull-Face, but shook his head, the revulsion on his face telling Bucky that this was new to him too. Good. Good. Giant, strong Steve, he could wrap his head around, but creepy skull monster Steve would be a little much.

"You are deluded, Captain," Skull-Guy shouted. "You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind!" He tossed what used to be his face down into the fire below and sneered. "Unlike you, I embrace it proudly! Without fear!" He grabbed his stuff back from Zola. He seemed to enjoy hearing himself talk as much as the little scientist did. They were made for each other.

"Then how come you're running?" Steve demanded. That's good, Steve, taunt the big bad guy. Bucky had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. The little punk hadn't changed at all.

Red-Face just smirked and stepped into an elevator, disappearing.

A fireball burst up into the air as something else exploded below them, and they backed away from the railing. "Come on!" Steve said, grabbing at Bucky's arm. "Let's go." He'd been looking for a new escape route, and Steve turned him toward another set of stairs he hadn't noticed. "Up," Steve said.

He jogged up the stairs, Bucky pulling himself up behind him. The threat of impending death was really helping with the adrenaline, but the heat and the smoke were making it hard to breathe. When they hit the top, he leaned heavily against the railing, looking down at the beam that was obviously Steve's planned method of crossing. This was going to be fun.

"Come on, let's go," Steve said again, and Bucky felt himself suddenly being pushed over the railing. "One at a time." Rather than argue, he let Steve manhandle him over, secretly grateful for the hands he kept on his arms as he steadied himself of the other side. Okay. Balancing. He could do this.

He could feel Steve watching him as he moved out slowly onto the beam. Was this what it was like being Steve, back home when Bucky was always checking up on him? It was…well, okay, it was actually kind of comforting, but it was also annoying.

He kept his mind on keeping steady, freezing as the beam lurched beneath him. He waved his arms in a desperate attempt to stabilize himself, surprising himself a little when he didn't go over. He inched forward, stepping down over a joint and it lurched again, continuing to groan dangerously after it stilled. He was a little over halfway across, and he could feel it straining beneath his feet. Suddenly it was moving down, and he took a long step forward and pushed off the falling beam, launching himself toward the railing on the other side. He slammed into it painfully, scrabbling with his arms to keep his grip and using everything he had to pull himself up and over. Adrenaline could only do much, and he knew if he kept hanging he'd go down.

He leaned on the bars, catching his breath, looking down at the flames where the beam had fallen in alarm. He looked up at Steve, back on the other side, who looked just as worried as he did. "There's gotta be a rope or something!" he yelled. He had to get Steve over here.

"Just go!" Steve ordered, waving at the door behind him. "Get outta here!"

Anger surged up in Bucky's chest and he pushed himself up straighter. "No! Not without you!" he yelled back. Maybe Steve was stupid. No way in hell Bucky was going to leave him here to die. He should know better than that.

He could see Steve looking around. There was nothing over here that Bucky could use to get him across. He saw Steve's eyes catch on the broken railing, and for a moment, watched in awe as Steve grabbed the rail and bent it outward. "Whoa," he whispered.

Steve backed up, eyeing the gap he'd created, the floor in front of him and the empty space between them. Was he…No way. He wasn't actually going to—yes. Yes, he was. Steve was flying through the air toward him, arms whirling in a circle and straining out to reach as far as he could.

Another burst of flame and Bucky's heart dropped into his stomach as Steve disappeared from view, lost in the flames and the shimmering heat. Bucky shielded his face with his arm but didn't close his eyes, and suddenly Steve was there in front of him, slamming into the metal bars.

Bucky leapt forward, arms wrapping around Steve's and pulling him up. He felt Steve start to fall beneath him as his feet couldn't find the grating, and—Holy Hannah, Steve was heavy now! He tightened his grip, and suddenly Steve's arms and legs found purchase and he was pulling himself up and over the rail and Bucky stumbled back out of his way.

Steve was leaning on the railing, breathing hard, and Bucky put a hand on his shoulder. "That was amazing," he panted. Steve had made it. He'd actually made it.

Steve turned to look at him and grinned. "Thought you were gonna say that was stupid."

"It was definitely stupid," Bucky said, nodding. Totally, colossally, way-out-there-even-for-Steve-stupid. But it had worked. "Figured you knew that already."

Steve laughed, and Bucky couldn't help smiling back. Steve pushed the door open and they moved out into the blessedly cool night air. On the ground below, Bucky could see lots of Nazis lying motionless on the ground and lots of ragged, dirty men running for the tree line. He shook his head, a smile creeping across his face. Everybody had gotten out. Steve had saved them all.

"Let's go, Buck," Steve said, wrapping an arm around his back. Bucky thought about telling him he could make it on his own, but decided against it. It was an awful lot of stairs.