I have so much feels for these peeps, [Bucky in particular], right now that I don't know what to do with myself. I have so much need to write that it's almost stalling me. XD Agh. Finished my first final exam of college though, summer break now. Bit more time to write. Ish. There's a hint in here about a major conflict of interest to come between the Winter Soldier and a vicarious victim of his. Dun dun dun. Enjoy! Thanks for the reviews, faves, and alerts! I get all giddy when I get them. XD Enjoy!~
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When all was said and done, it was nearly midnight when Steve, Bruce, and Tony plopped down in the Stark Tower equivalent of a bar/lounge area, where Tony had once offered Loki a drink.
"I'd offer you a drink," Tony started conversationally, "But you can't actually get drunk, so it's pointless. And sad. Support group sad."
"I am capable of being thirsty, you know." Steve pointed out, but his heart wasn't in it. His thoughts were on the battered man in the cell many flights below them.
"Really? Congratulations. You want a cookie?"
Steve snorted through his nose and rolled his eyes slightly. But before Tony could make another quip, he addressed Bruce who seemed lost in thought. "He seemed...different. He was all Winter Soldier. No episodes, no crazy-talk...he was...well, he got the drop on me."
"You say that like it's hard." Tony said with a raised brow.
Steve ignored him and kept his focus on Bruce, who considered that before he replied.
"With any...disorder, there are always better and worse days. The more he tries to remember, the worse it's going to get before it ever really gets better. It may be that he fell back on instinct and stopped trying to...think about things. Espionage comes as easily to him, for example, as reading does to you or I. Combat. Deception. Strategy. They're ingrained into him. Even in a poor state, he can fall back onto those automatic responses. It's possible he...went into auto-pilot, so to speak, and stopped trying to actively remember. The decreased mental stress made him more lucid. That would be my guess."
Steve was fairly sure he understood all that. But he didn't like the implication. If the Winter Soldier was dominant, Bucky wouldn't go slamming his head into walls. But the inverse was that Bucky wouldn't be coming out at all. "When he took that woman hostage..." Steve trailed off and his jaw clenched at the memory.
"He's not in his right mind." Bruce said gently, and when Tony interjected this time, he seemed genuinely irritated.
"So what? He gets a get-out-of-jail free card for all the crappy things he does because he's crazy? You two are way too optimistic."
"It's not his fault, Tony." Steve retorted, nearly a snap. "What's been done to him-"
"-Is terrible. I get that. He served his country and got royally screwed for it. Hey, if you could fix him, that'd be just fine by me. But let's face it, you think you can undo seventy years of torture, death, and mayhem with chicken noodle soup and sob stories about a past he doesn't remmeber? Wake up, Cap. You're dreaming."
Steve was silent for a moment, struck by the words and their harsh meaning. But he couldn't accept that. "Yeah? Well, the dream's all I've got."
"And you know what any one who crossed the path of the Winter Soldier's got? Nothing. Because they're dead. Even if he gets his memory back, you think you can slap a band-aid on that kind of misery? You might be doing him a favor to just kill him now-"
Steve had risen in an instant, and his expression was furious as he glared down at Tony. "-Stop it." he snapped. "No one is killing Bucky. Understand? I will fix him. You're wrong. Bucky is a good man. And you're not exactly in line for a sainthood, Tony." he added sharply. Some of the bricks in the Stark Empire had been most certainly mortared with blood, from what he'd heard.
Tony's expression didn't change, but there was a coldness to his eyes as he said lowly. "Is he worth it?"
Steve was a bit taken aback by the question, and he didn't have to try to think about it. Memories came to him unbidden. Memories of when he'd been a 'scrawny kid from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run from a fight'. There was Bucky: defending him, laughing with him, helping him breathe, chasing his nightmares away, protecting him, getting hurt for him, treating him like an equal, calling him a brother, following him into war, promising to be with him till the end, treating him like a human, like a person when no one else would.
People had treated Steve like a low-life or monster for being different, but not Bucky. Not once. And what the Winter Soldier had done, that wasn't Bucky, that wasn't his fault. But even if it was, Steve knew in his heart he couldn't have turned his back on Bucky. Even if every one else thought he was a monster, even if it was them against the world, Steve wasn't going anywhere. He was in it till the end of the line too.
"He's worth it and more. I'm bringing Bucky home." he said firmly.
Bruce, who had remained silent for the exchange, glanced between the pair with a thoughtful look. Tony, for his part, eyed Steve and then shrugged. "Your funeral. I'll send you flowers. Something patriotic to show your pride as America's favorite flaming soldier. I'm thinking rainbows and glitter."
"Is everything a joke to you?"
"Not really. Just most people." Tony replied without missing a beat as he rose. "Let me make this clear. I'll let you use my facility, it lets me keep an eye on him anyway. But if he slips up, if he steps out of line, if he is responsible for the death of one more person...that's on you-"
"-He won't." Steve started to interject, but Tony continued.
"-And I will take him out."
Silence descended for a moment as a stare-down between Steve and Tony commenced. Steve's jaw clenched again while Tony, impassive, stared up at Steve evenly.
"I can't let you do that." Steve finally said.
"Try and stop me." Tony challenged, and Steve's eyes narrowed.
"And on that note." Bruce rose. "I think we've all had a long day. I suggest we bring the evening to a close. Unless you two feel like taking it up with my less personable alter-ego." he advised warningly, a firm glance between the two of them. If Fury was the 'father' of their little group, then Bruce was the stern older brother. The one who seemed really respectable and high-moraled, but if you pissed him off...
Tony held up his hands as if in surrender, and yawned dramatically. "Yeah, it is a snoozefest around here anyway...but, one more thing..." his tone had started out drawling, but turned serious as he regarded Steve. "If it comes to it. If it really comes down to saving him, or saving someone from him...are you going to be able to make the right choice?" Steve was spared an answer as Tony gave a mock-salute to he and Bruce and left.
Steve stared after him before he felt Bruce squeeze his shoulder as he passed by. "You have some time. Do with it what you can." And with that, Bruce left as well and Steve was left to wonder what he meant by those words. He had some time.
And if that time ran out?
...
They all headed back to their mutual rooms. The guest rooms weren't intended to be long-term living quarters, but given that they were housing the Winter Soldier in the basement, it seemed prudent to just stay at Stark Tower.
Tony, irritated for reasons he himself didn't quite understand, flipped through channels on the t.v. and found himself wanting Pepper by his side. But he'd sent her on business out of state...purely for business, not because he'd wanted to protect her from the hobo-soldier or anything sweet like that. He didn't really pay attention to the channels he'd flipped through however, until he stopped on a news report that made him pause.
"Cold-blooded murder has taken on a new meaning today. Early this morning the Fairfolk Municipal Bank was the site of a robbery-gone-wrong that left six people dead. Details about the situation are still being investigated, but it seems that around nine forty-five a.m. this morning, a man entered the bank and demanded money from the safe. When the teller began to do as he'd asked, he suddenly went on a rampage and stabbed six people to death. A policeman passing by came on to the scene just in time to find the man writing on the walls...in blood. Here's a photo of the chilling scene."
The photograph showed bloody letters scrawled on the wall, and it read in messy, dripped lettering 'WINTER IS OVER'.
"The man surrended when faced with the officer's gun and has been taken into custody and will be transferred to a prison upstate, he is considered highly dangerous. A memorial service will be held Monday. We send out condolences to the families of the victims for their terrible loss."
Tony flicked off the t.v. with a curse. Ironman didn't do bank robberies, but if he had known...then he might have been able to save those people. Instead, he was busy chasing after...the Winter Soldier. "Winter is over..." he murmured as a thought crossed his mind. He didn't really believe in coincidence...but then, who else knew where the Winter Soldier was? And why the dramatic message at a bank robbery that they wouldn't have even seen if Tony hadn't been channel-surfing? Well, he'd keep an eye out...
...
Steve found himself again unable to drift off to sleep so easily. There were too many things weighing on him, not the least of which were Tony's words echoing in his ears.
Saving Bucky, or saving someone from Bucky. What would be the right choice?
And which choice would he make?
...
"Bucky...let me help you, please. Before it's too late."
The Winter Soldier stood at the edge of building, and Steve was eerily aware of every drop of blood that trickled down Bucky's metallic arm.
And then they were on a train in the frozen tundra, and it was the Winter Soldier who gripped the railing in a desperate attempt not to fall. Steve held out his hand.
Then it was Bucky in the middle of camp wearing his Howling Commandos uniform, a gun in his hand.
"Bucky, please."
Bucky watched Steve without expression and slowly lifted his arm as he aimed the gun right at him. "It's already too late, Steve."
He fired.
Steve woke up with a start right around sunrise, he'd only had around five hours of sleep [yet again] and that wasn't exactly easy on him even as a super-soldier. But the dreams were worse, Tony had jinxed him.
"It's already too late, Steve." The dream-Bucky's voice rang in his ears, and he tried to put it from his mind. He couldn't accept that.
Steve took a fast shower, scarfed down some toast he wasn't he really hungry for, and prepared himself for what might be awaiting him now. If Bucky had taken being a semi-captive poorly, he wasn't likely going to enjoy being in chains. In fact, it was probably the worst possible thing to have done. But it was Tony's condition for not keeping him mind-numbingly sedated and Steve didn't exactly have anywhere else to keep a super-soldier under wraps.
Steve made his way to the 'dungeon' as he was starting to think of it, and he thought of different possible scenarios that might be about to occur. But none of them were remotely close to the sight that greeted him as he found the cell and entered.
Steve's jaw actually dropped a little. Or more, it just hung open a bit as he stared with unblinking eyes, unable to properly comprehend what he was seeing. Steve had seen monsters burst out of the sky, led by a magic-wielding Asgardian God, he'd seen the Hulk, he himself was a bit a legend as far as that went. But it was a sucker-punch in the stomach to see the impossible and painfully familiar sight before him.
It was Bucky. As he'd been nearly ninety years ago.
The leg and wrist manacles had fallen off, the only one that fit was the collar on his neck. His clothes were now entirely too big and hung loosely off his slight form. The mess of hair had receded to hang just past his ears, to frame a face which no longer held bruises, cuts, or a crooked nose. The face, the body-now free of it's metallic arm, the everything were all too familiar to him. It was Bucky Barnes, not more than eight years old.
"Bucky?" he breathed, and then he noted that the other was having a nightmare. Bucky's young expression twisted, his fists clenched and he writhed a little as he mumbled something that Steve couldn't catch. He stared, unable to believe what he was seeing, still finding it hard to process...but even so...it was Bucky. This couldn't be a trick. The Winter Soldier hadn't magically escaped and left a doppleganger of his child self in his place. Loki was in some Asgardian prison. And so far as he knew, there was no one else teeming with mysterious power who would feel like doing something like that. Which didn't explain how it had happened at all but...but it was Bucky.
Steve moved to the edge of the bed where he sat on the edge and brought his hand to Bucky's shoulder as he shook him gently. "Buck...Bucky...? Hey, pal, wake up-"
There was a gasp and a small fist flew at Steve's head as Bucky jerked awake and moved to attack on instinct. Steve moved his body to the side in an instinctive dodge, and then watched as Bucky stared at him with wide eyes a moment and withdrew his fist. He seemed confused but quickly he regained clarity enough to realize who was before him, and what was on his neck.
Bucky's left arm shot out, presumably in thinking to use his metallic arm, but instead it was a thin, flesh and blood arm with a small hand that wound up gripping Steve's throat. He had probably thought to choke Steve, but that obviously wasn't a possibility now.
"Bucky-" he started soothingly, because obviously it was still the Winter Soldier in there, given his reaction, and he wasn't sure how Bucky would take realizing what had happened to him.
Not well, as it turned out.
Bucky had a truly confused expression as he stared at his arm, perhaps the most emotion he'd seen on the other's face since the moment he'd broken down a bit and started talking like Bucky. His hand withdrew from Steve's throat and he clenched and unclenched small fingers as he glanced down at himself. Bucky's body trembled slightly, and it was then that Steve had started to speak but Bucky cut him off as the now-boy lunged for him.
Small fingers they were, but his nails dug into Steve's cheeks as he gripped him by the mouth. "What did you do to me?" he shouted. "What is this?" he demanded, and there was murder in his eyes. But it was a look of fury, and that made Steve just slightly relieved. This was not the mania-driven rage, or the cold-blooded instinct, this was a genuine response of anger, he had been confused. That was something human.
Steve didn't want to incite his rage further, and he didn't want to hurt him by accident. Bucky had gone from unbreakable to impossibly fragile overnight, literally. And he was still processing it all the while of trying to help Bucky deal with it. He brought his hand up to remove Bucky's from his face gently, and Bucky drew his hand back sharply, enough to draw a thin line of blood from one nail on his cheek. Steve held up his hands in a non-threatening way, and when Bucky seemed about to lunge again, he put them behind his back and scooted back a little. "Hold on! Wait a second! It wasn't me!"
Bucky froze, eyes narrowed on Steve and expression dangerous. "You expect me to believe that?"
Steve filtered through potential answers as fast as he could, determined to find one that wouldn't upset him further, one that would convince him that Steve was telling the truth. He blurted out, "Yes!"
Bucky's sneer showed him how poorly he'd done and the other moved at him again. But the distance was greater since Steve had scooted back, and forced to actually lean his body, he was made to actually feel the weight of the collar on his neck. He fell chest-first before he caught himself, and with some effort, righted himself. His hands flew to the collar as he tugged at it angrily, but it wouldn't be removed without the proper code. Tony had declined to give it to Steve, lest he 'do something stupid'.
Steve's hands flew forward in concern to catch him, but Bucky had already righted himself and he let his hands drop as he spoke quickly. "Look, I don't know how to make you believe me. But I swear, this...this." he gestured to Bucky, who returned to focusing narrowed eyes on him. "I didn't know until I saw you just now. I don't even know how it's possible. It shouldn't be. Even for us...this is really...impossible."
"Who else would it be?" Bucky snarled through gritted teeth.
"I don't know. It wasn't me. I know Tony and Bruce didn't do it. How would we even do it?"
"Stark's machines, Banner's chemical compounds, an unknown resource." Bucky filtered through possibilities clinically. Steve was struck by the realization that this might be the most direct conversation he'd had with the Winter Soldier yet. He was comprehending Steve and making responses, and he seemed clear and lucid. When he was lucid as the Winter Soldier, he'd spoken in clipped phrases at best and shown no emotion. What did that mean?
"We didn't do this, Buck. I swear."
"Then why am I still alive?" he demanded, not for the first time.
Steve stared at the 'child' before him. Words like that shouldn't be coming from Bucky at all, but like that... "Because you deserve to be." he said, a wealth of unspoken emotions pouring through and he couldn't help himself as he reached his hand up to run his fingers through Bucky's hair. He expected violence, but to his surprise, Bucky had fallen still at his words and he seemed at a loss for a response. He seemed not to be able to understand.
"Take the collar off." Bucky finally growled as he smacked Steve's hand way, though not as viciously as he might have before.
Steve lowered his hand obligingly, but a guilty look crossed his face at the demand. "I don't know the code, Tony wouldn't give it to me..." But I couldn't open it even if I did, went unsaid. The Winter Soldier could hardly be considered a threat in his present state, but then again, devious and skilled as he was...he could do a lot with nothing. He'd been filled in about how Bucky had made a make-shift car-bomb almost instantly. And if he ran...
Bucky's anger returned full force in an instant. "Your lies aren't fooling me." he snapped, and then he paused as his brow furrowed and Steve noted that look in his eyes again, like when he was remembering something. He felt his heart sink, because that look heralded Bucky's mania.
Seventeen year old Bucky lay on the windshield of a dingy car as he tossed a baseball up and caught it one-handed, over and over. He seemed lost in thought until someone snatched the ball out of the air.
"So this is where you were hiding."
Bucky had jerked when the ball had been taken, but he relaxed as he saw who it was. "Hiding?" he snorted. "From what? Your ugly mug?" he retorted.
Steve eyed his best friend a moment before he came up to the side of the car, and he was actually eye-level with Bucky given his position. "...You know he was wrong, right?"
Bucky stiffened for just a second, and then yawned loudly as he stretched lazily on the car. He seemed relaxed, but Steve knew it was all for show. "Dunno what'chur talkin' about, Stevie."
"Yeah, you do. And I know what I'm talking about too. Don't listen to him, okay?"
One of their teachers had gotten fed up with Bucky flirting in his class rather than paying attention. He'd called him out in front of everyone, and said to the effect of that Bucky was a 'stupid thug' and that the army would 'weed' out his sort quickly. Bucky had nearly punched the teacher, Steve had stopped him, and then Bucky had ditched school. And eventually, Steve found him atop the car.
Bucky had a reputation for picking fights and being a skirt-chaser [not that he had to do any chasing, girls chased him plenty]. His grades weren't the best, but Steve knew it wasn't to do with Bucky's intelligence. School bored him, and Bucky worked harder than anyone when it was something he considered worth his time for, but school wasn't it. And it wasn't just Bucky. Who cared about passing classes when you knew you were a stone's throw away from being shipped off to the army? But Bucky had been singled out about an issue that already chafed at him, courtesy of his late father, who had been mean-spirited and abusive drunk.
"I'm fine." Bucky snapped, before he relaxed his voice and shrugged. "Like I care what that dick said."
Steve watched him a moment before he made a fist and lightly 'punched' the other's cheek as he forced Bucky to look at him. "Your lies aren't foolin' me, got it? You're not stupid, Buck, nobody thinks that. And if they do, it's cause they're stupid."
Bucky snorted and pushed Steve's hand away, but Steve caught his hand and gripped it tightly. Bucky frowned and tried to pull away, but Steve wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily and Bucky wasn't going to actually rip his hand away. "Steve-"
"-I mean it...the things you do...like when my watch broke, and you figured out how to fix it on your own. And I bet you could take a car apart and put it together again."
"That stuff's easy." Bucky grumbled, but he looked a little pleased.
"Not for everyone, Buck. And you have head for strategy...you're gonna rank up in the army in no time...you're sharp. And you work hard. And you're a good person, Bucky." he added.
At that, Bucky's mask of indifference failed him, and he finally met Steve's gaze fully. The person he saw reflected in Steve's eyes always seemed so larger-than-life, and no one could convince Steve that Bucky was otherwise, not even Bucky himself. But he wanted to be that. For Steve. "Maybe I just got you fooled and you don't know it." he hedged.
Steve smiled then. "I said you were sharp, Buck. I didn't say you were sharper than me."
"Oh, ho. Cocky punk." he suddenly tugged on Steve's hand, and Steve yelped as Bucky wound up pulling Steve onto the car too.
"Jerk." Steve huffed before he righted himself and sat beside Bucky. "I mean it, Buck."
Bucky's lips twisted a moment as he considered that, before he leaned his head on Steve's shoulder a bit. Steve enjoyed it for his part, it was a nice change of pace for Bucky to rely on him. "Thanks, Steve..." he finally murmured.
Steve smiled as he glanced at Bucky and the pair sat in companionable silence for awhile, content to take life in.
"Bucky?" Steve was hesitant, and when Bucky's eyes swiveled to him, he waited for an outburst. Instead, Bucky's brow just remained furrowed.
"...There was a car..."
"A...car?"
"Boys. One was small, he told him not to listen...that he wasn't stupid."
Steve wracked his brain a moment before it occurred to him. 'One was small'..."That was me, back in the day...before I became Captain America...talking to you, Buck."
"That's not possible." Bucky muttered.
"It is. It's true. You're remembering things, aren't you?" Steve was hopeful.
Bucky looked down at his hands a moment before he looked back up at Steve. "I-"
"What the Hell is going on here?" Tony Stark's voice interrupted the potential revelation. He stood in the doorway with a glare. "You better have a damn good explanation for why the soldier's gone, and why is there a-" he cut off as he actually looked at the kid. He didn't recognize young Bucky, but he noted the chains and over-sized clothes-the ones Bucky had been wearing, and he stared a moment before he asked. "Is that..."
"It's Bucky." Steve confirmed.
"I'm not." Bucky hissed, and all at once his hackles were back up as he regarded the pair.
Steve could have punched Tony for the interruption then. "I came down this morning and he was like this." he explained, he had no response for Bucky's continued denial.
Tony just kept on staring at Bucky before he took a few steps closer and asked. "So wait...the Winter Soldier is in that?"
Bucky's eyes had grown cold, the hot anger replaced with the chill of the Winter Soldier. He moved his hands behind his back and got into a crouched position as he watched Tony carefully.
"Hey, kid, staring is rude." But Bucky didn't let up.
"Tony...I need the code for the collar." At that, Winter finally let his gaze slide to Steve, but it went back to Tony quickly.
Tony snorted. "Yeah, right."
"I mean it. Look at him, he's not a threat."
Winter said nothing, but he stiffened slightly as his eyes grew unfocused.
"Make sure you make it look like an accident. I don't care how."
The Winter Soldier had already taken a mission, he'd been out of the cryo-tube for a couple of weeks already, but an impromptu mission had come up. One that only he could do. But this one...this one's name...he knew. "I...that's...wrong." The words came out slowly. He didn't need to speak. He was a weapon. Except that he wasn't, this was wrong, this was all wrong.
SteveIneedtofindSteveNeedtowarnHowardHavetogetoutWhathaveIdoneHurryCan't-
"It's your mission. You need to complete your mission."
One of the doctors looked apprehensive. "He's having memory relapses again..."
"Don't worry, look at him, he's not a threat."
"My...mission." That was right, as long as he completed his mission. Everything would be fine...his mission...
"You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?"
"Hell no. The scrawny kid from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run from a fight, I'm following him."
Bucky's eyes widened as memories assailed him. Flashes, bits and pieces, but he knew this was wrong...he wasn't the Winter Soldier. He had to stop this! Bucky swung his arm around and cold-cocked one of the doctors before he hurled a standing table at another. He made a break for the door, only to find himself the victim of a high-powered taser of sorts. "Agh!" he clutched his head in agony, the electricity seemed to burn his brain to it's core, it was painful, too painful.
"He might not be useful anymore at this rate."
"Look at the way he's holding his head...I wonder...if we gave him enough voltage, perhaps we might correct the problem. He's a super-soldier...he would survive."
Bucky moaned from the floor, and he tried to sit up, he had to escape, he had to warn Steve, he had to-
Arms lifted him as the goon squad arrived and set him up in the electric chair. He realized what was happening and began to thrash about, he had to escape...
"Do it."
Thousands upon thousands of volts of electricity coursed through Bucky's body, as his screams echoed along the uncaring halls and his mind was lost to him again.
There was a click as the color came off, and Winter didn't bother to wonder about the conversation he'd apparently missed as Tony had forked over the code. He had been given a weapon, he'd found it when he'd crouched down, and he would use it.
He found his body didn't move right, didn't feel right. But even that handi-cap wasn't enough to override years of training and he found himself behind Captain America with a knife pressed up against his throat enough that to move it would break skin. Captain America stiffened, and Winter spoke in monotone as he addressed Tony. "The captain is my hostage. Make a move against me and I'll slit his throat." he warned. He spoke to Steve then. "Do exactly as I say, or you will die. You-"
"-Sorry, I don't negotiate with psychotic terrorists. You want to slit his throat, go on ahead."
For his part, Steve had made no moves nor responded, but at that he shot Tony an irritated, quizzical look before he spoke calmly to Bucky. "You don't need to this, Buck. We're not going to hurt you."
"I know. I'm going to hurt you." Winter said simply, and he addressed Tony again. "You're bluffing. Captain America is valuable to you." Tony Stark was a man of intelligence, technologically speaking, he wouldn't waste a resource like the captain. Furthermore, they were team mates, and his training had taught Winter that for some reason-that made them place sentimental value on each other's lives.
Tony snorted. "I can make my own super-soldiers. Ones that are a lot less mouthy and annoying. Kill him if you want, but you won't be leaving here alive, buddy."
Winter stared at him, not having expected that. He tried to test the other's resolve as he bit the knife into the captain's throat and let a thin cut well. Steve inhaled a sharp breath and his hands twitched, but he didn't try to throw Winter off.
"Bucky-"
"Shut up." Winter said simply, as he met Tony's gaze. But when he'd cut the captain, Tony had seemed...what was the word...amused. "I will kill your friend." The word was unfamiliar on his tongue, but he'd heard it enough from the captain the past few days to be able to use it now. "And then you'll follow."
"Who said we were friends? Quit being such a pansy and do it already. Or does the hobo-excuse me, Winter soldier have cold feet?" Tony taunted.
Winter's hand clenched on the knife as he pushed it a bit deeper in, and a faint bit of blood had trickled onto the silver knife from his previous slight cut.
"Buck...please don't do this...I believe in you. I know you're still in there." The captain spoke softly, and Winter couldn't detect a lie in his words. He wondered why the captain hadn't tried to push him off yet, he'd expected it and been ready for it.
"What a world, huh, Stevie? You got these guys trippin' over themselves to follow you." Bucky chuckled as he took a swig from his glass.
Steve smiled slightly as he swirled around his own glass of alcohol, though it wouldn't do him any good to drink it. "It's a new feeling, that's for sure...I wonder what they'd think if they'd seen the old me."
Bucky laughed. "Then they'd be begging to follow you."
Steve rolled his eyes as he took a drink. "Yeah, that's what they'd do, alright."
Bucky stared down at his drink a moment, and his voice was low and actually serious when he spoke next. "They really would, y'know. You had more guts when you were pint-sized than a lot of these guys got now. You stood up for yourself, and for me, even when you knew you were gonna get your a** kicked."
Not everyone had been a fan of Bucky back in the day, and Steve had gotten in more than a couple fights defending Bucky from slander despite Bucky's insistence that he didn't need to. "I thought you said I was just too dumb to run from a fight." Steve finally said as he tried to make it humorous, tried not to let that long-running sliver of his insecurity show.
"Oh, you were definitely that, pal." Bucky clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave a squeeze, but as he fell silent he didn't remove it. Instead, he smiled ruefully at his glass before he looked to Steve with a strange smile. Steve had known how to read Bucky like the back of his hand, but ever since he'd gotten him back from Hydra, there was...something there that was unfamiliar. Was it war-life, or something else? "But if it's a choice between the dummy that won't run, or the chicken that never fights...I'll take the dummy."
Steve snorted, wondering where Bucky's train of thought lay. "That's...a really flattering comparison."
"Steve, shut up." Bucky said as he tweaked Steve's ear, and Steve fell silent. "I mean it. I'm not followin' you just 'cuz we're old pals or somethin'. Or just 'cuz you saved me. That's part of it but...Hell, I'm as bad as the other morons. I guess, truth is, I just believe in you. I toldja before. Till the end of-
Winter jerked his hand away as though burned, and the knife clattered to the floor as he backed away from Steve with a twisted up expression. When he looked at any one else, he was right. He was the Winter Soldier. He was a weapon. His mission was everything. His mind was filled only with what was necessary. But when the captain spoke, when Steve spoke...suddenly his mind was filled with things he couldn't understand, images and sentiments, and relationships that made no sense to him. What did it even mean, to believe in some one? Belief was an acknowledgment of a truth, was it not? Did that mean to acknowledge that some one existed? What was so sentimental about that? Why did that make some one worth following? It wasn't about worth, you followed the one who made you, who trained you, end of story. So why hadn't he gone back to Hydra? Why had he allowed this man to...to...make him unright. Why couldn't he complete his mission? Why did the thought of killing Steven Rogers make his chest physically ache, had he been poisoned somehow?
Steve rubbed his throat as he turned to look back at Bucky quickly. He noted that the other's face was scrunched and Winter's look was, if he had to name it, confused and apprehensive. Was Bucky peeking through again? He offered the other a light smile. "See, Buck? You don't wanna kill me, pal. You know me. I believe in you."
"Stop saying that!" Winter snapped, as he clutched at his head. "My mission is the only thing that matters! I am the Winter Soldier! I am the ultimate weapon! My work is necessary!" he recited the sentences off as if to validate them.
Steve looked at Winter with yet another expression he couldn't understand, like Winter's words caused him physical pain. As if perhaps his chest hurt the same way Winter's did. What did it mean?
"You're not a weapon, Bucky. You're a human. A good one. Right now, a broken one. But a human."
"My mission-" Winter's voice sounded odd to his own ears, and not because of how young it was. But it was familiar, it was desperate, he recognized that because of all the desperation of his victims.
"No more missions, Buck." Steve's voice was gentle as he held out his hand to Winter. "You don't have to remember being Bucky if you don't want to, I won't force you. I won't make you do anything you don't want to do. As long as you're safe, as long as you quit hurting yourself and others, that'll make me happy. I just want you to live, pal. I can't lose you again."
"I...I don't understand." Winter stared at Steve's hand like it might bite him, but Steve didn't lower it. "A weapon that isn't useful should be destroyed." he recited words Hydra had drilled into his brain.
There was another emotion then, one that Winter recognized as 'anger' in Steve's expression. The other man was firm this time as he spoke.
"You are not a weapon. And I won't let you destroy yourself. Even if you hate me, that I won't let you do."
Winter stared at Steve and the offered hand, and his own hand suddenly itched to reach out and take it. A voice in the back of his mind, a familiar voice that he'd always ignored, seemed to urge him to. Just take it... Winter's finger's twitched, his hand slowly started to move...until he felt a sharp pain in his neck and he jerked around to find that Tony Stark had just injected something into him. "You-" he snarled, but then his eyes widened as he fell forward, unconscious.
"Fastest acting sedative I've got, you son of a-"
"-Tony." Steve's voice was furious as he caught Bucky before he fell, and laid him to the bed as he rose to glare down at the other man. "I was getting through to him! What is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with you? The guy tries to slit your throat and you wanna shake his hand? Did he knock your brain a little too hard?"
"But he didn't, did he!" It wasn't a question. "Bucky couldn't do it. He can't kill me, he knows me. Why are you so against him?"
"Because unlike you, I do my research. Did you only skim his file or something? Do you understand what he is? Do you really? He makes Loki look like a fairy princess. He said it himself, he's a weapon. Even if he gets his memories back, he can't understand them. If you say something like 'love' to him, it won't have any meaning. He literally cannot comprehend emotions, his heart could be broken and he wouldn't get it. Life holds no value to him. At best, he's like a little kid with a gun. He doesn't understand the gravity of his power, he can't comprehend why killing someone matters. At worst, he's a monster."
"It's not his fault-"
"-You keep saying that like it matters. You know what, I agree with you. His life is the poster child for not freaking fair. But when some little kid gets in his line of fire, and you have to tell the parents why that kid's dead. Are you gonna say it's 'not his fault'? You're right, he doesn't do it to be cruel, he's not capable. And that makes it worse. It's not about what he wants, or feels, or even thinks. He'll do terrible things without question, just because he's told to. Maybe he's off Hydra's leash, but if someone else gets hold of him? Or let's say you take the reins, is that what you want? To be his master?"
Steve didn't realize he'd yanked Tony up by the collar until he found Stark's face a few inches closer to his own, and he forced himself to calm as he set the other man back down. Tony shrugged it off like it was nothing, and if anything, seemed satisfied he'd proved a point. "Even when I had nothing...I had Bucky. He's a like a brother to me. What would you do? What if it was...Pepper?"
Tony's impassive expression became almost weary for a brief moment, and in an almost resigned way, his tone softened. "From what I know about 'Bucky Barnes', from the way you go on about him, it seems like he was probably a good man. He was probably someone worth saving. But Bucky Barnes died alone in a cold wasteland, it's the Winter Soldier in that body. He's got Bucky's memories, but he'll never have his heart, it's not possible, Steve. And even if he could, you think you'd be doing him a favor? Was Bucky the kind of man who'd be okay with having that much blood on his hands? You think he'd say 'it wasn't his fault'...or would he feel like that monster? You say you're doing this for Bucky, but really, aren't you doing it for yourself?"
Steve took the words like a blow, and coming from Tony, they actually carried more weight than if any one else had said them. Tony, Mr. Devil-May-Care, had actually said something...like that. Almost sincere. And he was right. If Steve actually thought about it, then he knew what Bucky would think. Bucky would blame himself for every bit of the blood on his hands, for not being able to stop it, whether that was right or wrong. And maybe it was selfish, maybe he just couldn't let Bucky go...but even so... "I have to try, Tony. I can't give up on him. He'd never give up on me. You gotta let me try...please."
There was a tic in Tony's jaw as he regarded Steve, and then looked to the unconscious boy on the bed. When he finally spoke to Steve again, he had his usual drawling tone. "Well, if you're gonna cry about it, jeez. Have it your way. You're stuck on babysitting duty though."
"I won't let him out of my sight."
"You have fun with that...I do need to test him though...I'd like to know how exactly he went from big pain in the a** to a little one overnight. And where he got that knife." Tony suddenly remembered as his eyes narrowed on Steve.
"Don't look at me! I didn't give it to him!"
"Which begs the question, who did?"
...
The prison transport car held three cuffed passengers that night, one for armed robbery, another for assault and battery, and one for murder.
The armed robber was tall and lanky, with a gristly beard, while the other was short and chubby with a greasy appearance overall. The third seemed not to fit the mold.
His hair was light brown with streaks of stark blonde, and slicked back on his skull. He had a tanned complexion and smooth features, and a tall, muscular body clothed in a designer suit. The man would look more at place at a high-end casino than in the back of a police transport, and his pale blue eyes glinted in the occasional patch of moonlight. The man whistled a jaunty tune, apparently unconcerned by his impending murder charges.
The taller man turned to shoot a glare at him. "Listen, you f***ing s***head, no one wants to hear your f***ing whistling. So shut the f*** up before I make you."
The whistling drew to a sharp close as the man swiveled those blue eyes onto him. "No one particularly wants to hear your foul language either." His voice was crisp, and he had a faintly British accent.
"The f*** you say, f***face? You got a f***ing problem with the way I f***ing speak?" The man spat, intentionally cursing that time.
"I do believe I advised you to correct your language."
The man guffawed. "I'll talk however the f*** I want, you dumb f***ing s*-"
The sound of metal chains being snapped echoed in the small area, as the well-dressed man moved with inhuman speed to grab the man's neck and slam his head against the wall. He shoved his other hand into the man's mouth, where he violently ripped out his tongue. The man let out a strangled scream, and the well-dressed man let him drop as he choked. He tossed the ripped appendage aside and wiped his hand calmly on the man's shirt. "I did warn you."
The shorter man, who had kept quiet, looked at the other man in terror as he tried to back away as far as he could. "Help!" he screamed and he slammed a fist against the wall. "Help! Stop the car!"
The well-dressed man paused. "I suppose we'll have to stop now...this idiot just couldn't keep his mouth shut..."
"P-Please don't kill me, sir." The short man said meekly.
"Sir...that has a decent ring to it. But when addressing a god, it's a little underwhelming. My name is Apollo, named for the virile Greek deity of the sun." he said, with a flourish of his hand.
When the man just stared at him with an open-mouth, and a terrified expression, Apollo sighed.
"Really, no one appreciates art any more. Such a pity. But oh well, when I make the new world order, I'll change all that."
"Help! Stop the car!" The man screamed and slammed the wall again, and the transport finally halted.
Apollo sighed yet again and shook his head. "I suppose the ride's over. Pity. Well, that's as far as we go then." He took a few steps closer to the man, who began to plead.
"Don't kill me. I won't tell any one what I saw. Just let me live. Don't kill me."
"Let you live? Is that what you think you've been doing? Oh, no, you poor man. You're just scum, a parasitic infestation...a blight on this planet. Don't you see? You don't belong...I'm just setting the order of things straight..." And so saying, he deftly moved forward and snapped the man's neck just as the doors opened.
The two officers saw the bloody scene, and watched the man, and quickly determined that this man was too dangerous to be given quarter again. They both whipped out their guns and fired, stunned when the bullets ricocheted off of the man and one bullet went back into the officer who'd fired it.
Apollo frowned as he glanced down at himself and tugged on his jacket regretfully. "This was a new suit. How very callous of you."
"W-What the Hell are you?" The unshot officer stammered.
"What? How rude. I am a god. But save your prayers, they won't do you any good with me, I'm afraid." Apollo brushed himself off as he stepped out of the car, and the officer aimed for his head. Apollo tutted as he moved forward and grabbed the officer's hand as he slammed the man's elbow upward to snap his arm. He then slammed his head against the van fatally, before he used the dropped gun to finish what the ricocheted bullet had started on the other officer. "I do dislike guns, but I haven't got the time to waste on your ilk, you see? Summer must progress, after all."
There was a scream across the street, as a young couple spotted Apollo and the brutal scene he'd left. The pair started to run and Apollo smiled slowly, and there was nothing pleasant about it. "Then again, it's been so long since I've had a good hunt..."
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
So long...Finally finished. I just get lost in writing. Not a problem though, I hope. XD Ooh, well-dressed psycho-villain! Bwah, Bucky is toying with me. I tried to get inside his head a bit. Bucky before the war, Bucky after Hydra the first time, Bucky dealing with the new Captain Steve, the Winter Soldier, Bucky coming out of the Winter Soldier, and what Bucky might be like emerged from the Winter Soldier. I re-watched his First Avenger scenes, and he's actually a little callous towards Steve, careless maybe, despite his devotion. And when he gets the men to cheer for Captain America, he smiles at Steve but then gets sort of a bitter look on his face. The general consensus is jealousy, but for different reasons. Is he jealous of Capt's popularity and attention? Or is jealous of having to share Steve? Is he bitter that he's not the leader now...or bitter than he isn't Steve's protector now? Bucky actually makes a good character study. XD I think it'll be fun to dip into that when Bucky starts emerging. Scoping out his Winter Soldier scenes too. Next chapter will start with Winter Soldier's POV, since it's been pretty Steve-centric so far. His reactions after waking up small and such. Thanks for the reviews, alerts, and faves! Verbal hugs, whee! Enjoy!~Witchy~