A/N Trigger warning- possible suicide. Although Marvel Movie-verse does not necessarily follow the cannon comics, I threw in a gratuitous nod to Falcon as the next Cap. 8belles

I Know What You Did In the Dark ch 15

Sam

I stepped into the hot shower and let the water rush over me for a moment as if it would take the foreboding I felt away down the drain. Steve was ever the optimist. The Star Spangled Man with the plan. I could only wish to share his hopeful view of his very damaged friend. Sometimes being a therapist made you see things others didn't want to.

Cleaning up, I got dressed and let Steve has his turn at the shower. We said nothing to each other in passing. Catching his eye briefly, I could tell he thought I was mad at him. Actually, I wasn't angry at all, only clarified. I know a lot about about non-verbal communication.

When he reappeared dressed, I was tidying up from my breakfast. He kept looking down at the floor then up at me like a puppy I had yelled at for messing on the floor. "Steve, I'm not mad." I broke the ice between us.

"Are you sure?" he asked me dubiously.

"Absolutely. I know your feelings better now. However, if Bucky tries to kill you, I will get him first. Understood?" I leveled with Rogers.

"Understood." he repeated with a steely look in his eye as if he dared me to think Bucky would ever hurt him.

I gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement, "Where are you going to look for him?"

"I thought I'd check our old apartment, maybe his family's place and even the cemetery where his folks… and mine…are buried." He replied unevenly like the last words were too hard to say.

"Alright. I'll be right here. Be back before sundown." I instructed, folding my arms over my chest.

"Ok, mom." Steve smirked at me heading to the door.

"Well someone's got to look out for you." I shot back annoyed at his flip attitude.

Opening the door stepping into the hall Rogers turned to look at me, pain and hope in his expression simultaneously, "That's what Bucky would have said." He shut the door quietly.

I let about ten minutes pass before throwing on a jacket and headed down stairs. My gut was telling me Barnes was watching us in the early morning light. Exiting the lobby, I turned right and walked up the street a few blocks. Biding my time, I took a long route back, and a quick duck into the lobby and up to the apartment. My plan was simple: make Barnes think we were both out for the day looking for him. My hunch was he'd return again to Steve's place, not quite ready to face the man, but rather his memories.

I settled down in a comfy chair that sat in the corner of the living room, in the shade of window curtains and waited.

It was after lunch that our elusive assassin showed up.

Stealth, like a large black cat, he was virtually silent on the fire escape, prying the window open again. Sliding in, he expertly put a careful foot on the old wood floor, testing it for noise, his back to me. Staying still and breathing quietly, I watched him and pondered how do you say hello to a damaged man who tried to kill you without startling him.

Bucky was still dressed in Steve's jeans and had a hoodie over his metal arm, but he looked too skinny to me. His hair was a mess and who knows when he actually last had a shower. I was reminded of the homeless guy in D.C. Barnes had robbed for his clothes. Desperate times require desperate measures, I guess.

James stood up from his crouch at the window and swept the room carefully, yet confidently, with his gaze. Eventually, his eyes reached me. In a flash, there was a long knife in his hand. I didn't move and we stared at each other for a while.

I decided I'd go first, "James."

Bucky watched me, narrowing his eyes, "How do you know my name?"

"I am friends with Steve." I stated plainly, keeping my hands visible to him.

Bucky assessed me and I am sure had several exit strategies already figured out that involved my death. "Why are you here?" he asked me in a business like manner.

"Same could be said for you." I returned, my voice even.

"Why are you here?" he ignored my comment.

"To meet you. Steve has said great things about you." I kept still trying to judge his mental state.

Suddenly, a stricken look appeared on his face and he paled visibly, "He knows, doesn't he?"

"Who knows what, Bucky?" I asked interested to hear his answer.

"Steve. I knows all the… evil… I've done." Bucky replied, his voice wavering slightly. The metal hand reached up and touched the left side of his head. I could see tension in his jaw like something was trying to get out. Barnes's knees trembled as if he was fighting to stay standing.

"He forgives you." I said kindly, assuming that he was having a flashback or some sort of brainwashing was trying to assert itself, "We all do."

"NO. No, I won't!" He yelled out loud at no one in particular and released the knife to clutch his other side of his head. The blade fell point first, deeply into the wood floor. Bucky crashed not far from it on his knees.

I leaned forward but kept my distance, "Bucky! Listen to me. We forgive you. Listen to me. Listen to my voice. Come back. Breathe."

Still clutching his head, he writhed on the floor mumbling and groaning as if in horrible pain. I caught his gaze through the laced fingers around his skull. An intensely suffering sane man was visible for a fraction of a second before madness took over. Eyes rolled up in his head and he convulsed, shoving the couch against the wall, back arched unnaturally and every muscle taut.

Feeling my cell phone vibrate in my jean pocket, I ignored it. It was probably Steve but I had my hands full right now.

Approaching Barnes carefully on the floor, I crouched near him, "Bucky. It's ok. Easy, easy." It was hard keeping my voice steady and reassuring not sure if he was just seizing or going to snap out of it and do something crazy.

Abruptly, he went still, his eyes still closed. My heart beat quickly in my chest waiting for his next move. Cracking open his eyes from between his hands he looked at me, almost lucidly. Letting his head go, he sat up, cross-legged as if nothing happend, the knife still imbedded in the floor inches from his hand. "James?" I asked him quietly, "Are you ok?"

Soulless icy blue eyes met mine, moments later, a knife was in my face and he was on top of me. The full weight of Barnes told me he might be half starved but he was all muscle. I grabbed his wrists that were double fisting the blade at my nose. An inhuman growl emanated from him. "Bucky!" I wheezed through clenched teeth fighting back the blade hovering over my face, "I know you're in there! Come back!" The mechanical arm was so powerful!

The blank, maniacal look was still in his eye as he tried pushing the blade towards me. Our arms trembled violently with the opposing forces; me trying to save my life, him trying to take it. He needed to be off-balanced which would be difficult since he was practically sitting on my chest. I gave a heaving roll left; the knife stabbed the floor where my head had just been. I pushed him up and over me, sending him crashing into a coffee table. Bucky stood quickly and squared up for attack. "Bucky! Stop this. I'm your friend." I said firmly while sucking air standing my ground but ready to defend myself.

With silence, he attacked throwing punches that I ducked, barely in time. Weaving around the apartment, I shoved furniture in his way to slow him down because I was no match for that arm. The living room was rapidly becoming a shambles. Fleetingly, I recalled Steve's shield in his bedroom. I blocked a punch or two from James and threw in a few of my own, even my best right hook. Barnes took it on the chin and staggered back a few feet, briefly stunned. I sprinted past him to find Steve's shield under his bed, where he always kept it. Slipping my arm through the straps, it was so strange to feel how natural it felt to me to be holding it.

Turning just in time, Bucky had a palm sized, but no less deadly, 9mm gun aimed at me. He squeezed off a few shots then stopped. I huddled behind the shield as the bullets zinged off away from me. After a few seconds of silence, I spoke, "Bucky. It's me Sam Wilson. I want to help you. Please stop so we can talk."

As my heart pounded in my chest, I heard nothing else from him, so I dared to lower my arm slightly and peak over the edge of the shield. Bucky stood there, arms limply at his sides, staring at the shield as if mesmerized by the red, white and blue. The blank, dead look was not on his face any more but more a confused and dazed one as if he had just woken up from a bad nightmare. "I… knew him." he muttered to no one in particular.

"Yes. James. We know him. Steve Rogers." I agreed, slowly letting the shield down a fraction more.

Barnes stood there stone-like, then his eyes met mine and I saw that poor wretched soul, eyes brimming with tears. "I'm so… evil."

"No, you're not. The Soviets did things to you no human should have to endure." I assured him, "Let me help you. Put the gun down."

A light appeared in his expression as if he had a great thought, then he raised the pistol to his temple, "Steve doesn't deserve me."

The guy was going to off himself. Not on my watch! "WAIT! Bucky!"

The tension on the trigger lessened somewhat. Yes, this was a cry for help. I needed to answer this one in a hurry, "Bucky, lets sit for a bit and you can tell me your story."

James regarded me with the saddest expression I've ever seen, "Not sure that would help. Let me just end this. It hurts."

"Yes, it does. When my partner Riley died, I wanted to die too. He was my brother." I responded using Riley's story again and realizing it was the best last gift he could ever give me as a friend. Every time I told it, he lived on.

A flicker of recognition came into his expression as if I had hit a nerve in shared suffering, "Then you … understand?"

"I do. And not a day goes by that I'm not looking down into that black pit of hell. But I rise to the light, Bucky. We fight on. We're soldiers and we need to help each other get through the pain. No one will understand us like each other." I paused seeing my words starting to soak in maybe, "So let me help you through the pain. Put the gun down."

James blinked a few times, a tear or two splashing onto his unshaven cheeks and his hand began to just barely relax. The barrel of the gun started to tilt away from his skull and arm loosen as weariness swept over him.

The door to the apartment burst open with a kick, shattering the doorframe in a shower of splinters and plaster dust. Steve rocketed in afterward, chest heaving, looking like he just sprinted the Empire State building's 1576 stairs. Bucky whirled to face the loud commotion, the gun still in his hand. I cursed under my breath. Just when I got things under control, I didn't need Rogers intruding.

"Bucky!" Steve's voice was a tone I'd never heard him use when saying Barnes' name. It was like joy made into a sound. Staring at his best friend, he ignored the destruction of his place and the gun in James's hand.

Barnes froze, turned away from me so I couldn't his expression, but I could see the tension building in his shoulders like a smoldering volcano, hand tightening on the gun.

"Steve. We are both really glad to see James, but we have a bit of a situation here." I kept my tone neutral but the big lug was not listening.

"Buck, how are you." Steve took a step toward James, hands outstretched.

James immediately drew the gun up to his head again. Steve stopped, a shocked expression to his previously ecstatic face. "Don't. Just. Don't." Barnes said and I could hear the tears redeveloping in his voice.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" Steve barely whispered reaching out his hands, his face pale.

James was inhaling rapidly, his back rising and falling, as if he was uncertain how to proceed, "I… I. Steve, I am… a horrible person."

Oh great, we're back to that. Two steps forward, one giant step back. Hopefully he doesn't attack Steve, I thought to myself.

"No. No Bucky. You are the best man I ever knew." Steve responded and I could see his eyes starting to glisten, "Remember, when we were kids, you saved me so many times. You took care of me when I was sick. You saved my life in battle… When I lost you on that train, I died, Bucky. I was a shell of a man and I've thought about you every day since. I am nothing without you. Don't do this."

I continued to listen, slowly reaching for the taser in my thigh pocket of my pants. Maybe Steve would talk him down, maybe not, but I would make sure Bucky didn't harm Rogers or himself.

"They hurt me, Steve. It hurt so much." Bucky stated, sobs swelling in his tone, "And I just want it to stop."

"Buck, no. Let me help you. Please. I can't lose you again." Steve pleaded and I noticed he was inching forward to Barnes. The gun didn't change grip in his hand as far as I could see.

"The voice. It tells me bad things. Peirce tells me bad things. Steve…the cold… it hurts!" Barnes sounded like a small child in the ER getting stiches. It made you want to hug him like a mother would a baby.

"I know, Buck. I know. Pierce is gone now. We will make you better and take that voice away." Steve promised as he got closer and closer.

Barnes lowered his head slowly and I assumed took his eyes off of Steve, "And it tells me to kill you." In a fraction of a second, the gun was pointed at Rogers.

"Steve!" I flung the shield to him, which he expertly caught as bullets ricocheted off it. Once the clip was empty in a few shots, both of us simultaneously tackled Barnes, my taser jamming into James's thigh. Lightening crackled between the three of us, but Bucky got the worst of it. A strangled howl came from Barnes and Cap hung on to him for dear life until the discharge was finished. Bucky went limp in our grasp.

The three of us lay piled on the floor, a Winter Soldier crushed between us; our hearts beating wildly. I looked at Cap as he shook the effects of the shock from his head, "You ok?"

"Yeah. I'm electrified." he replied with a smirk. I had a suspicion he wouldn't be so perky if the target wasn't Bucky.

"Well, I had it under control until you busted in here." I replied, disentangling myself from the mess. Steve held the unconscious James in his lap as if he could not believe the ghost from his past was actually here in flesh and blood.

"It's my turn." Steve said absently, gazing at his best friend.

"To do what?" I asked straightening my clothes and glancing around at the destroyed apartment. Black Widow would sure have a fun time putting her two cents in about a make over for this place. Maybe Sharon would help too.

"For me to take care of him. Like he used to do for me all those years ago." Rogers glanced up at me briefly then back to the sleeping Bucky. "And I won't let you down, pal."

No, I don't think you will, I thought to myself as I went to make a few phone calls. This case was going to need a team of Avengers to fix.

FINE.