Bucky glanced back at the old yellow farmhouse, tucked at the end of a dirt driveway curving through a thick stand of pine trees. The road he was heading for wasn't visible from the house. No idle chatter from Steve to distract his always present sense of dread. The assassins' defenses crept into his awareness; and grew exponentially with each tentative step. He tried to distract himself with less ominous details:
The grass was mowed around the house "Steve can mow?"
His practiced eye did a quick threat assessment of the woods, roof and sky.
"Wow…look at how blue the sky is…" skipped briefly through his hardened thoughts.
"What the hell is that hammering noise?" His step hesitated. He noticed the source: a small black and white bird with a red head.
"Shit….another red head."
A warm breeze brushed his face; he crammed down the urge to enjoy the caress.
His dread was fighting in earnest now with the urge to be human. Every step away from the house was feeding his fear, disrupting his training, making him vulnerable.
"Focus...you idiot."
"Bucky's steps ended abruptly with a shudder. His mind tripped over the voice in his head.
Bucky sighed….."Well…hello. Enjoy your vacation?"
"Sarcasm with me will only end in pain…you know that."
"Let's just get something straight…right here, right now….you are not real…you can only hurt me if I let you do it…you do not call the shots anymore."
"So sure of yourself now, Soldier….taking the medications….you think that will banish my existence? You're the fool Hydra always thought you were."
"No doubt….but you aren't my handler anymore. Отвянь.
"You can say I'm not your handler….for now…but you can't survive without one…that is how Hydra made you."
"Hydra didn't make me." Bucky choked. "They tortured me. They broke me."
"You are alive today because of the handler…..admit it….you've just traded one handler for another."
"Fine…ok…you win….you're right….it's Steve. He's the handler. Happy now, asshole?"
A ping on the phone shook him from his self-dialogue.
NMD: You ok?
He struggled with the intrusion into his reconnection with the Voice. "Who the hell is NMD?" then reality pushed back in…Steve …."He said he would text me." Bucky's mind swung back into the external world. Steve was texting him already, 15 minutes into his "run" and he'd barely left the front yard.
He thought about ditching the water bottle once he actually got to the road…."I look like such a dork…" but Steve had insisted…."Can't disappoint Steve."
"Good job soldier…obey the handler…even if he's an idiot."
"Shut up….you're not invited on this run."
But the rest of his psyche was on board:
"Anxiety…...check."
"Paranoia….check."
"Nausea….check."
"Dread…..check."
The dead…not so much anymore.
The thought of Steve….check. "Not my handler." He added as an afterthought.
"You can do this, buddy…it's just trees, birds and grass. No sweat."
Fifteen minutes later the phone pinged again. He stumbled at the vibration in his pocket. "Come on Steve." He mumbled as he dug the phone out and dutifully texted back.
"Ok."
He took the moment to do another threat assessment. "Grass, trees, fencing….no drones, no choppers, no vehicles, no houses…ok….lookin' good." Bucky let a fleeting relaxed thought in: "This is a hellava lot easier than urban work."
He focused on the details of a split rail fence along the side of the road as he ran. Counting his steps between each post; matching his stride to the distance of the next post with the same number of steps each time. He felt his mind become obsessed with the strides, making each effort the same as the one before.
He stumbled hard as the vibration in his pocket knocked him from his methodical counting pace. "Wait…just wait….a few more steps…"
He made it to the next multiple of 6 post, his counting obsession had escalated with his anxiety; he settled down against it to rest and juggle the water bottle and phone.
HOUSE: NEED YOU TO ANSWER RIGHT NOW. Bucky had missed the last few text messages.
"What's with the house phone?" He wondered as he let his sense of his surroundings falter. He gave in to his out of shape body and the pull of Steve on the phone.
JBB: WTF?
"He's worrying about me" as he smiled.
JBB: YES MOM
"He hates that."
JBB: I may call you mom but you are not my mom.
"I miss my mom." He sighed.
Something hard suddenly drove a searing pain into his right shoulder.
"Dropped your guard, soldier….that handler's going to get you killed."
Bucky jerked forward, trying to break the grip on his shoulder. He was in a completely compromised position, sitting on the ground his back to an open field.
"Fucking idiot…" was all the thought he'd allow himself. Then he spun to his right and groaned as he yanked free and rolled to his knees to face his assailant…his left hand clenched and shot out at the black mass moving away from him. He fell forward with the force of the aborted blow….his assailant, was a horse.
The big black animal snorted loudly and jerked its head up and away but didn't run….it merely danced sideways a few steps. Bucky looked up from his hands and knees; "What the hell horse…you bit me!"
He tried to calm his pounding heart. "Settle down Barnes….it's just a horse…." He sat back on his haunches and slowly stood up to face the animal eye to eye.
"You don't know who I am…I could've killed you." He whispered as the horse came closer, clearly not intimidated. He stepped towards it; pulling off the right glove to reach out slowly, reflexively to let it sniff his fingers. "Not too close though…you nearly ate my shoulder…"
"Stop this drivel..you think you're some kind of horse whisperer…it isn't afraid of you because you're weak, you've lost your edge. No one is afraid of you, no one has respect for your abilities anymore, soldier…..except me. I know your potential."
Bucky rolled his eyes at the Voice as he remotely heard the phone ping again.
"Shit…where is it…" He frantically searched the road and grass.
It pinged again. He grabbed it just before the horse stepped on it.
HOUSE: Please come home. Right now.
Dread roared back into his mind.
JBB: What's wrong?
HOUSE: Nothing.
"Yeah…I know what 'nothin' means…"
JBB: What happened?
HOUSE: Just need you home. NOW.
JBB: On my way.
Bucky took a few steps back towards the house then stopped. "The water bottle…" he scanned the ground where he'd been sitting…nothing…then he spotted it. The horse had it by the handle and was tossing it around the field. "Taunting me, huh?"
He briefly thought about finishing that punch he aborted earlier then let it go. "I'm gonna tell Captain America what you did. He'll be pissed."
Steve stared at the phone message from the Unknown Caller.
"Ok, ok…who else has the number?"
"Cassie?" Her number was programmed into his phone. Besides, she wouldn't have been cryptic.
"Stark?" Steve had sent him a phone, but that number would have identified him; not come in as an unknown caller.
He grabbed the house phone and conference called Natasha and Sam.
"We have a problem. I just got a text from an unknown caller; it said "we need to talk."
Natasha groaned "Destroy that phone; maybe you should get out of there."
"I can't leave right now." Steve was thinking about Bucky out on the road alone.
"What?" "Then as soon as possible, Steve." Natasha's frustration was clear.
Sam moaned "We should have never shut down the surveillance on the house."
He had fought hard to keep it in place after Bucky tried to kill himself. It had saved his life.
But Steve had sided with Bucky over it the day after the medical team left. "Sam he won't come out of his room. He's already ripped the camera out of the wall in there. He can't function if he's terrified of cameras in every room."
"He's an international terrorist Steve…" Sam countered.
"He is not a terrorist…he's a POW that was used shamelessly."
"Ok, poor choice of words...he's an internationally wanted POW that was shamelessly used to do terrorist-like activities… and is currently psychotic" Sam tried to reason with Steve to not only keep the surveillance but to beef it up. Bucky won that battle.
"We don't know yet what's going on Sam…but if it has to do with that…I will owe you a very big apology."
Steve turned his thoughts to Bucky after he ended the call to Sam and Nat. "I just heard from him, he was ok…just need to get him back here…without making him panic."
HOUSE: "You ok?
No answer from JBB
HOUSE: Answer me.
No answer from JBB
Steve headed for the garage "No, nope….please don't let him be captured…by anyone…" Steve prayed to the universe.
HOUSE: I need you to answer right now. "One last try …."
He grabbed the keys and straddled the bike when the phone pinged:
JBB: WTF?
HOUSE: R U OK?
JBB: YES MOM!
HOUSE: Thank you. Enough running. Come home now.
JBB: I may call you mom but you are not my mom.
HOUSE: Please come home. RIGHT NOW.
No response from JBB.
Steve started the bike…"fuck him..he's so fucking stubborn….I'm going to handcuff him to me when I get him back here…."
He nearly missed the last text between his ranting and the sound of the engine.
JBB: ON MY WAY.
Once Steve received the JBB message of "On my way," he turned back to the message from the unknown caller.
"We need to talk."
He groaned as he recalled something Bucky had said "Paranoia is my friend..it keeps me safe, don't knock it." Steve started ruminating over all the ways they had been careless in the last 6 weeks.
He grabbed a burner phone from the tactical room and settled in the office off the kitchen. "Sorry Buck….we need to do this." He apologized as he reconnected the house surveillance system. "Maybe with the medications…he'll tolerate this better."
The green "on" light lit up on the camera in the kitchen as the split screen views flickered to life in front of him.
He dialed the unknown number.
A voice answered.
"I'm glad you called me back."
Steve paused before he answered. He knew the voice well. "Hello, Sharon." "How have you been?"
Bucky ran as hard as his out of shape body would allow. He concentrated on getting home…"correct that…Steve's home." But his heart wasn't in the correction.
When he finally arrived at the house he was soaked with sweat and "panting like a damn dog…summer….Brooklyn…." he staggered in the back door calling "STEVE."
Steve didn't answer, but Bucky heard him laugh.
"What the hell?" "I just killed myself coming home cuz he sounded worried and he's laughing?"
He pulled off the gloves, hat and sweatshirt to keep from passing out as he doubled over, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. The T-shirt he had on was dripping sweat on the floor. "Maybe I should just shower before he sees me …" Bucky worried about how much of a mess he was in Steve's eyes. He pulled his hair free from the hair tie and slipped it on his wrist with the gold-colored cord as he started past the office.
Something caused him to stop short of the door. Another voice in the office with Steve. "That ain't one of my voices…and it ain't Wilson or Romanov." He noted with some panic.
"There's someone else here? What the fuck is he thinking?"
"So much for being a good handler…he's invited strangers into your den."
"Shut the fuck up…" he chided the Voice. As he crept closer to the wall by the office; he could see just enough to tell the person talking with Steve was on a video feed. He struggled to hear past the blood pounding in his head.
"I've been busy Steve. Very busy." The caller offered.
"Hope you're not overworking yourself."
"Well isn't that how we work anyway?" she laughed in a way that implied familiarity.
Steve laughed with her, like they knew one another well.
"Jerk." Bucky was jealous already….
"So why the unlisted number?" Steve ventured.
"Caution. We can't be too careful these days."
Bucky totally agreed. "Right."
"So you've been busy too, Steve." The caller challenged.
"Who the hell is that?" Bucky wrestled with his memory.
"Not too busy." Steve offered vaguely.
"God Steve, that was lame." Bucky shook his head.
"I have reasons to believe otherwise."
"What?" Both Bucky and Steve thought.
"Really? Well, you know more about me than I do then." Steve laughed.
"That might be true." The caller retorted…Bucky nooded in agreedment.
"I know where you're living. I know you're running with the Widow and Falcon."
"Don't bite Steve." Bucky coached silently.
Steve laughed "Well I'm not exactly in hiding."
Bucky knew there was a whole lot more to come. He braced his back against the wall, leaning his head closer to the doorway to hear every word of what was next.
"Maybe you should be. I know you're not alone. I know you have an asset that a lot of people are looking for."
Steve kept his face and posture impassive. If not his mind. "Shit…why isn't he back here yet." He hadn't heard Bucky call his name.
Bucky slid down the wall as his knees buckled. His brain melted at one word…"asset."
Every sliver of hope he had gathered in the last few weeks disappeared at that one dehumanizing word…from someone Steve seemed to regard as a friend.
"You're such a fool, child. They've found you. They won't take care of you the way I did, the way Hydra did. They'll lock you up for the rest of your pathetic life. We can give you work to do, praise, safety, love even, if you want it…."
Bucky fought to get his brain back into the moment.
"Lie, Steve….Lie…don't leave it open like that…Steve…come on." Bucky's stomach rolled as he waited for Steve to say something.
Steve's jaw tightened at the word 'asset' but he tried to not let her see it. "What makes you think I'm not alone?"
"I don't want to make the same mistake you have." She retorted. "But in short…you told us. Your phone calls. Your text messages. We picked them up over 3 weeks ago and have followed every since. The asset is unstable and you need help. We want to help."
"Your new handler and his friends are idiots…you see, lovely…they don't know how to protect you. They were careless with you. Walk away now…get away from this handler."
Bucky shook his head trying to dislodge the growing fear. "Steve told her? Not on purpose? He texted my location, my name? What the hell?" He was pulled back into the moment with Steve's answer.
"My texting a name doesn't mean anything. He was my friend. As my friend I'd be concerned about his safety. But as far as I know he's on the run." Not a lie technically, he thought. "Do you really think we'd just set up house-keeping and plant a garden? That's ridiculous." Steve's mind flashed to the patch of lawn he had just dug up out back "because Bucky used to love cucumbers and tomatoes."
"So now you're being cautious? And with me of all people? After what I did for you?" The woman sounded irritated.
"Paranoia is my friend." Steve offered as he thought…'wish I had cultivated that friendship sooner.'
Bucky's mind was stuck though on one sentence: "He was my friend" "was" being the operative word.
"He doesn't want you…he only helped you because he felt guilty…you fell…he left you behind…it was to calm his own guilt…you're so fucked up he'd never want you…get out now before he turns you over to her employer."
"Do not act like a fucking scared animal….think, Barnes, think." He desperately lectured himself as his head began to shake.
"I think we should meet, Steve…I don't want to say anymore this way. As I said, we need to talk and I don't want to make this situation any worse.
"Alright, Sharon….maybe so. Since you claim to know where I live…I assume you're nearby…where are you staying?"
"Get on your feet, soldier…..time to move."
Bucky was so nauseous he was afraid to lift his head, afraid to stand up. "I hate puking." He was so disgusted with himself. He never puked as the soldier.
"Time to confront him….trust me…I'll guide you through this."
Bucky struggled to place the woman caller.
"I know her. She was there in Berlin…with the CIA…I fought with her."
"But she helped us there…didn't she?"
"Wait…she's the one…he kissed her." Bucky had a rush of strange emotions start to overwhelm his already fragile thinking.
"Get up Soldat!...you don't want him to find you sniveling on the floor do you?"
Steve clicked the phone off and the video feed went blank. He sat staring at the screen "She's still an ally…just need to stay calm when he gets here…no need to upset him…the less he knows the safer he'll be."
Movement by the door caught his attention. He stood to face Bucky standing just inside the office…looking every bit as threatening as he did on the helicarrier three years earlier... only much, much angrier.
"Shit…he heard it all." Was the last rationale thought he had before the argument started.
"I trusted you, Steve. I trusted your stupid friends." Bucky growled, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
"I know you did, Buck…we don't really know anything yet…please." Steve tried to calm him.
"I heard what she said…you texted my name, my location. You used my name so they could find me. You said you'd protect me, Steve…now they've found me."
Steve could hear his friends' desperate panic growing in his voice despite how angry he looked.
"No…she contacted me to help us…not to take you in…please stay calm about this."
"Stay calm? I'm the one they want dead, or locked up in a psych ward or buried under the ocean….you were Captain America…no one's going to lock you up…even for helping me!"
Steve stepped towards him, palms open and wide, trying to project something non-threatening. "Buck, come on let's sit down and make a plan…I have some ideas…."
Bucky cut him off abruptly…"NO more talking….NO plans…" he rasped as his head shook trying to dislodge the screaming in his head.
"Get out of here….get out…grab what you can and leave…you know they're on their way…he isn't going to protect you…I will…Hydra will…we can find them again…you know where to look."
"I know you don't trust her…but she helped us before…that should count for something…" Steve cautiously moved towards him.
I promise we'll do better…please don't give up on us." He could hear Bucky adjust the plates of his arm….shifting to gather energy.
Steve angled his body to soften his approach; hoping Bucky would let him get close enough to contain the blow he saw building in his body.
"Please don't give up on…me." He said softly as he got within reach.
Steve could feel the rage that was about to explode from Bucky; he desperately wanted to grab him before it happened.
"Please keep trusting me…" he whispered as he drew next to him, close enough to feel the radiating heat of his body, smell the musky odor of his sweat from running and his fear….he felt certain that if he could wrap him up as tightly as possible…he could contain the explosion. Could stop the unraveling.
Bucky was visibly shaking as Steve's hands tenuously rested on his upper arms and began to slowly slide towards his back to wrap around him. "Hold me…" he heard his brain say quietly. But the Voice wouldn't let those words come out.
"Don't be such a fool….he's using you, baiting you…he'll wrap himself around you to trap you…give you up later. He'll go meet her and deliver you like a gift. Let him think he's won you over…then we'll go."
For a moment he let the embrace begin, let Steve's arms around him, he allowed the comfort of Steve's touch..…then his body stiffened and drew back.
Steve looked at him…..searching for Bucky…he wasn't sure he saw him. But the tension of the rage seemed less; the fear in his eyes seemed to change to confusion…"Maybe he's ok…maybe it worked."
Bucky staggered back and pushed past Natasha and Sam in the doorway and disappeared upstairs.
"Well that was tense…" Sam stated the obvious. "At least there was progress; no one got hurt."
The three of them moved to the kitchen island so Steve could fill them in and decompress.
"Do you trust her, Steve?" Natasha trusted very few people and that was always open for re-assessment.
"I did…I do…but haven't talked to her since Berlin."
Sam offered to go with him for the meeting.
"No, Sam I need you to get the surveillance back up full force."
Their conversation was disrupted by the sound of furniture loudly being moved overhead. "He rearranges the furniture in his room…I think it's an OCD thing." Steve shrugged away the noises.
Sam glanced up; the heating grate caught his attention. He could see the dust get dislodged and fall down onto Natasha's shoulder. He heard the faint clunk of the grate opening. He frowned as he waved at them and pointed up to the grate. "He's listening." Sam mouthed to them when they looked back at him.
"Well that explains a lot…" Natasha thought as she went back over the last few weeks of "How did Barnes know what we said about him." "The little shit."
Steve forged ahead. "Sharon said she wants to help us."
"What kind of help is the question." Natasha added.
"And who says we need help?" Sam was skeptical.
"Well the real question is what does she want in return?" Natasha added but Steve thought he knew the answer. Sharon, whoever she was working for, wanted Bucky.
"I know this is a tough decision, Steve. He's upset but you need to go see her. We need to know what we're dealing with." Natasha was worried about both Steve and Bucky. "I think seeing her face-to-face is the best way to get answers. She lost her job with the CIA after the Berlin fight so she could be on our side or be out for revenge. The only way to get a handle on this is to see her."
"Let's get you set up with a tracker and a comm….let's get back to basics here." Sam headed for the tactical room with Steve in tow.
Natasha stared at the ceiling with a large amount of concern.
Bucky heard all he needed to hear. Steve was going to see "that woman" and likely make the deal to give him up. He needed a viable plan. "No sense just running out the front door screaming like a big baby."
"Ok Barnes, make a plan. If they see you walk out of here, one of those three idiots will chase you down. The Red Head will tazer you into submission. Steve will cry and fawn all over you and break down your better sense of self-preservation. Birdman will probably let you go….at least he has the good sense to step out of the way."
"Stay calm, soldier…don't rush this…Steve will leave soon….the others will be busy…let them think you've settled down…just another temper tantrum."
He took a quick shower; a hot one. Changed into the jeans and henley that Steve had gotten for him on his first day out of cryo. He went to the kitchen, loaded his arms with a box of protein bars, three apples, two boxes of raisins and the orange juice carton. "Hungry Barnes?" Sam asked as Bucky stalked past the office. He returned to the kitchen and pawed through the drawers to palm the only weapon he could find; a three inch folding knife. Next stop was Steve's room. He took the credit card he had 'hidden' in the sock drawer, and the vintage looking baseball cap with the Brooklyn Dodger's logo.
"I don't want to go…" He argued with himself. Well with the Voice.
"We need to go….child…it isn't safe here anymore. I'll take care of you."
"He means well ya' know. He didn't do this on purpose."
"The way to your death or imprisonment is paved with good intentions.
"That isn't how that saying goes…."
No matter, soldier…it's still true…let's get going while there's still time."
Bucky made one last check of his room. He stuffed the food into a small backpack he had hidden in the back of the closet. He reached to take the gold-colored cord off his wrist then hesitated.
"Let it go soldier….it's a meaningless trinket. It will only serve to hurt you."
Bucky paused. He looked at the unopened card the girl had given him with the cord.
"No. I'm keeping it. You're not in charge. Not today."
He grabbed the card and stuffed it in his back pocket, pulled his sleeve down over the cord on his wrist and climbed out the bedroom window, onto the porch roof and silently dropped to the ground.
Natasha was sprawled on the sofa finishing off the chocolate peanut butter ice cream that Barnes forgot about. Sam came by to test the camera angles.
"Have you seen Barnes lately?" She asked. "He's been awfully quiet."
"I saw him in the kitchen a little while ago. Getting food. He took it to his room."
Nat stopped eating. "What kind of food?"
"Protein bars, raisins, fruit."
"Shit." "Sam…check the basement." She jumped from the sofa, tossing the ice cream and ran upstairs.
"Barnes. Open the door. I need to see you. I need eyes on, Barnes!"
She tried the door. It was locked. Clearly violating the no locked doors rule.
She picked the lock. "Privacy be damned." She thought, besides, she was completely confident that he wasn't in there.
Sam came running up the stairs…"He's not downstairs, what's going on."
They stood in Barnes' room. It was hard to tell if anything was missing…he didn't own anything. But the window was open and he was gone.
Steve spotted Sharon sitting in a quiet corner of the hotel lobby. She was dressed in non-descript clothing; hiding in plain site. Her blond hair was cut short; her face betrayed the stress of the past several months.
She gave him a warm smile when their eyes connected "Good to see you Steve."
"You too Sharon." He returned her smile and warmth as he settled in a chair near hers "So let's talk." He had no desire to waste any time.
Sharon nodded "Ok, cut right to the chase then…we know the Winter Soldier is with you. We know he's unstable. We want to help."
"Who's we?"
"My employer."
"Seriously, Sharon…you'd give me that kind of answer…"
"My employer is in the business of taking down Hydra. They are an independent contractor, not working for any government organization."
"Who is it? Give me a name."
"I will. If we come to an agreement…but not yet."
"What do you want from me?"
"We want the Winter Soldier."
"Well you came to the wrong man…I don't know where he is." Steve thought stubbornly: "I don't know where the Winter Soldier is; but I know where Bucky is, and I'm not going to admit to it."
"We know you brought him here; we know he's with you still. The Winter Soldier is living right here in Hope, New York." Sharon hissed.
"I can't help you with the Winter Soldier." He answered..truthfully as he thought to himself…'I can barely handle Bucky.'
Steve was struggling with the whole Winter Soldier thing anyway. He kept mulling over his resistance to her approach 'He's Bucky…not this persona….not a commodity.'
'"Steve, would you like me to show you the transcripts? Photos? I have weeks of surveillance to prove to you we know his location. As recent as his run today."
"Are you trying to blackmail me, Sharon? That is not gonna work on me. And frankly seems beneath you."
"No…this isn't blackmail." Sharon softened. "This is a negotiation. He has information we want and need. You have him. You need help with managing him. You both need protection. We are willing to provide what you need to handle him if he gives us what he knows."
Steve wasn't buying it for one and second…he resented the whole 'managing him' reference. The way Sharon kept referring to Bucky as if he was a thing to be handled. Steve felt his anger turn cold.
"Handle him?" He questioned her.
"I'm sorry Steve…I'm not trying to offend you. We know he's damaged and needs help. We have resources that would benefit both of you."
This didn't feel like negotiating, it felt like manipulation.
"If this was as benign as you're trying to make it sound, why threaten me with transcripts and pictures? Why the unlisted number, the intrigue."
Sharon leaned closer and whispered "Because we are all wanted. There are forces at work after all of us. You've been living in a fantasy world for the last two months with your BFF setting up housekeeping while the rest of us have been running for our lives."
"I think we're done here." Steve stood up, ready to walk out. He'd text Bucky and send him to the agreed upon rendezvous site and they'd run together.
"Wait. Steve, wait." Sharon followed him. "I'm sorry. It's been a long few months." "I'm sorry. Please…let's walk and talk. Just hear me out. We don't want to hurt him, or you." She was standing next to him now. Her hand was on his arm.
He wanted to trust her. Had trusted her in the past. "Ok…walk and talk."
He'd remembered that he found her easy to talk to. Sharon was smart, funny, strong. He knew he was being defensive about Bucky; he was feeling guilty that he could have contributed to the CIA or some other police force finding him. Worse yet…Hydra. And deep in his heart he was still feeling overwhelmed by the depth of Bucky's issues, wondering if some help wouldn't be a bad idea.
Sharon's tone lightened as they walked the sidewalks outside the hotel. "Let's start over. My employer's been hunting Hydra for months now. They're only getting stronger, smarter, faster, richer. Their mantra appears to be true: cut off one head, two shall take its place. We can't make a dent in their operations. We need better intel."
"How did you hook up with this employer?"
"I fell in with our group after Berlin, he saved my ass. I owe him. Simple."
She went on "We stumbled across your name with routine surveillance. I thought, where there's Rogers there will be Barnes. So we started looking for you actively."
"Hypothetically…if I knew where to find my friend, what do you think he could do? He hasn't been with them in three years. He isn't the Winter Soldier anymore. He was an operative, not in their intel loop to begin with so what little information he might have had is likely irrelevant."
"We believe his intel is more relevant than he even knows, Steve. We aren't the only ones looking for him."
Steve's mind flashed to the wall of names, numbers, places in the tactical room.
"Yeah…the CIA, Interpol, the FBI…sure he is, was, an internationally sought assassin. You think we...I…he doesn't know that?" Steve stumbled.
"Yes…all of the above and one more…Hydra. They are actively searching for him. He knows something, maybe he doesn't remember it. Maybe it's just to regain their asset, but whatever it is…they are looking hard."
Steve felt a coldness wash over him. They knew everything was a risk. Living in a house, in one place, the attempt at a normal-ish life: it was all a dream, a crazy idea. "We should have run." He told himself but then he thought about Bucky's break down; he tried to image how that would have gone while on the run.
"We know he's unstable." Sharon added softly.
"He's better." Steve added without thinking. "How? What makes you say that?"
"The calls, Steve. He hurt you." She gently pressed her hand to his right wrist.
"He tried to kill himself, didn't he? There was a medical team on site. Damage to the house." She knew everything it seemed. They had stopped walking; she was looking up at him with so much concern on her face.
Steve shook his head. "I can't Sharon." He struggled with himself. "How does she know all this?" But he had to admit, once they found him…it would be easy to track the others, purchases, coming and going, spot the medical team.
He was drawn in by the concern on her face. The warmth of her hand on his arm. He debated "Tell her the truth? Walk away? Trust her? Run?"
Sharon sensed his conflict "Steve, it's ok. I know you don't want to betray him. We aren't asking for that. But we need to make some decisions here. We're willing to help but yes, we want something in return. We want what he knows. We want his help. We want him."
She leaned in closer, moving her hand to his chest, her eyes met his. He let his hands slip around her waist to pull her in closer. He pressed his forehead against hers. It felt warm and comforting to be close to someone.
Sharon lifted her head, their lips brushed together gently then their kiss deepened. Her hands caressed his arms, her body pressed against his. Their embrace warmed as Sharon whispered "Come upstairs."
Steve let down his guard and gave in to the longing that always hovered in the back of his mind. Unnamed, unaddressed. He let her take his hand and lead him to the side entrance of the hotel. The kiss grew deeper, hands explored, warmth grew between them as he followed her down the hall, pressed against her back when she keyed through the door.
"Steve" Sharon whispered as her hands fingered his hips, drew across his belly then stroked down his growing erection.
He drew in a quick breath at her touch, pulled her tighter into their kiss.
She stepped back, tugging at his hips, pulling him towards the bed.
'God..what am I doing?' He'd actually stopped thinking at all when the first kiss deepened. His brain had switched to his cock and he went with it. The overwhelming ache for touch filled him...she tapped into this pool of emptiness he hid from the world.
He pressed his hips tight against hers, they fell onto the bed, his hand slipped beneath her shirt, the heat of her skin under his fingers pushed him further into the moment; his hand brushed against her breast, her thigh pushed up against his cock.
That pressure right there..that moment of contact; her thigh...his cock...led to one flashing image...reality knocked on his needy door...
Bucky. Suddenly it was his leg, his mouth, his long dark hair.
Steve jumped up.
"Steve? You ok?"
"I'm sorry….Sharon…this is not a good idea..I have to go." He ran a hand through his hair, pacing.
"Steve, wait….it's ok…maybe we got ahead of ourselves…you're right." She straightened her clothes as she moved away from him nervously.
Steve paused at the door "I'll give your offer some though." He clarified, "Your request about what he might know." Thinking…'Not your offer of sex.'
"Steve, we need an answer soon…you, both of you, don't have much time."
"I know…you'll have an answer in the morning."
Steve straddled the bike and made his way home. All the unsatisfied longing he lived with for so long before the ice and after it; now seemed clearer than ever before. His encounter with Sharon solidified everything he thought he knew about his own feelings.
With every touch, each kiss, every minute of wanting it all came down to Bucky.
"Well…that was enlightening."
As he pushed the bike to ever greater speed, the roar filled his ears, the vibration did nothing but tease his cock...he made one resolution..."I am going to slam him into the wall and fuck him stupid when I get home…I swear to god."
"If he'll let me."