Bucky never closed his eyes. He'd stared down eminent death a thousand times before this asshole. He didn't even regret not killing the guy for trying to steal that piece of his soul he had found again with Steve. The flashing lights fell away from his vision, the alarms became muffled, a slender trigger finger squeezed in exaggerated slowness.
"He has blue eyes, just like your Steve."
Romanova's hands wrapped around his waist; her head fell against his chest. There was a flash of memory to a younger version of her, almost innocent, staring at the Soldier behind the bars of a cell.
Fingers dug in below the vest; the contact with his skin, the feel of her body against his, recalled a similar embrace with a lover from the Red Room. The final image that engulfed his entire being as that trigger engaged was a blonde headed boy with bright blue eyes fiercely fighting for what he believed in.
The bullet hurtled towards the glass; Bucky sucked in his breath unconsciously.
He flinched. More from the way Romanova jerked into the knife wound and jammed her fist into his already screaming with pain right kidney.
The few seconds that passed in slow motion before the trigger was pulled, sped up double time once the bullet ricocheted off the glass and eviscerated the big guy's brain through his left eye. He dropped with a reassuring thud.
"Bullet proof?" It was an oddly satisfying moment to say that in unison with Romanova. The ensuing hysterical laughter was abruptly brought to an end by a roomful of Hydra soldiers opening fire.
"Get the C4." Bucky slammed his elbow back against the locked escape route.
He swung around full circle to put all his leverage into driving his fist against the latch.
Natasha huddled at his feet and fearlessly dug out the explosives and detonators while enduring a rain of gunfire.
"You planning on blowing us up?"
"Yup. Gonna blow the whole place."
She stared up at him as he braced a foot against the rapidly deteriorating bullet riddled door behind him and pounded into the burgeoning crack in their exit.
"Are you insane?" No offense."
He let out an exasperated sigh and slammed at the crack again. "None taken."
The deafening sound of gunfire directed at their backs grew louder.
"It's giving out, Barnes." Romanova had to shout over the din of alarms, gunfire, and Bucky's growing scream as his fist pounded out their escape. She leaned back into the door, bracing her feet on any firm surface, throwing herself into his efforts.
A hint of cool air brushed across them.
Another hit. More coolness. Another scream as his shoulder connected with the groaning latch...and they were through.
Bucky stumbled forward but righted himself in time to feel the first bullet whizz past his head.
Romanova crashed into him, they retreated down the far wall along the server racks.
"Well this was a great plan." She reflexively blew the hair out of her face.
"No plan, just winging it." He slapped the C4 on a rack and connected the detonator.
The sound of the glass wall exploding interrupted their moment.
"Guess they found their explosives." Bucky mumbled as he set the charges. "Go on. Get out of here."
"No more heroics. Steve will kill me if I go back without you."
He hurried through the setup; "Done. Now. Go...go...go."
Bucky paused with his back against the server rack; he watched Romanova slip down the ladder; the red dot laser sights were skittering along the wall in front of him. He knew the second he stepped towards the trapdoor all those lights would converge on him.
"Hope they don't know about groin shots." He muttered to himself. Once again, the Voice was nowhere to be found when shit goes down.
"Ok, Barnes, you got this." A deep breath; one more thought of Steve.
He stepped into their view; the barrage of bullets slammed into his chest sucking away his breath.
He triggered the explosives.
Red, yellow then white colors burned his retinas; a scorching hot wave of air blew him backwards to bounce against the opening and down the shaft. There was no time to dedicate to how bad it all hurt.
"Fuuuccck!"
He grabbed at the wall; his metal fingers screeching down the concrete. His foot bounced down four rungs; his flesh hand dragged across the metal vents; he tucked his head to his chest and snagged again at the wall with his metal fingers. The blowback from the explosion above chased him down the shaft, licking at his feet as he crashed to the floor in blinding pain.
"Barnes? You ok?" Romanova's whispered croak was by his ear. Her hand was on his cheek.
He didn't care.
"Still. Alive." But he wasn't sure he'd be getting up anytime soon.
"How bad are you hurt? Scale of 0 to 10?"
"Twelve. Soon to be nine, then six, then three."
He rolled to his side with a restricted moan and curled his knees up; catching her in his fetal position.
"Ok soldier, we need to walk it off." She whispered. "Shit's going down out here."
"Steve?" Bucky staggered into the destruction that used to be the tunnel. The dust of the battle above them was still settling. A quick assessment even in the faint light of far off bulbs showed him the evidence of a fight, discarded weapons, unconscious men, bullet holes in the walls. What tore at his attention was a red star on a silver shield, half way buried in a mountain of stone.
"Steve." He limped forward towards the shield, stumbled over rubble. "Steve?" He dropped to his knees at the star, blinking his eyes clear from the onslaught of the explosion, the fall and the dust.
Bucky started to dig. One stone after another then another. "No. No. No." He muttered as he tossed aside everything that was coming between him and Steve. The shield tumbled loose, he pushed it aside and kept going. The pain from his wounds fell away from his awareness. His kidney roared for attention with every effort to free him from the mound. Panic twisted at his stomach, tightened his chest, sent waves of white noise to his brain. Somewhere around him Wilson and Romanova were digging as well, but they were like the ghosts that walked with him everyday. Wavering; their words muffled and distant; a presence without influence except to convict.
"You did this Soldier. Your hairbrained scheme up there dropped the ceiling on him. Idiot."
"No time for your bullshit. Help me." Bucky didn't care if anyone heard him.
His vision cleared a bit with the help of tears; then they got in the way. He let them fall.
"Where are you?" He sobbed openly as he dug, tossed, shoved; desperately trying to find him.
His hand connected with an arm, he followed it to a shoulder.
"Here. He's found him." Wilson's voice was a distortion to his ears.
"Don't fucking touch him." Bucky growled when they tried to help pull Steve out.
He pushed the last stone from his head. A wide gash was bleeding freely; his eyes were closed. It was hard to tell if he was breathing or not.
Bucky sucked in a sobbing breath. "Steve?" He leaned down close to his face; touched his forehead; brushed back the blood from his eyes. "Wake up, Steve." He cradled his head in his hand, lifted his shoulders and scrambled to sit behind him; letting his body rest against his chest; encircling him in arms and legs, he tucked his face against his neck.
"Don't leave me." He whispered and pressed his lips to his cheek "You can't leave me."
His sobbing breaths shook both of them; enough that Bucky didn't feel Steve move at first.
A weak cough, then a hand squeezing his calf startled him to look closer.
"Steve?"
Another cough; long blonde lashes fluttered, the grip on Bucky's calf got tighter.
A barely there rasp "Good to go, pal."
"Nat we need to get out of here." Sam was about done with the Barnes adventure. "He's fun for the first twenty-four hours but it's getting old now, or I'm getting old. How long have we been down here, a week?"
"Mission go was twelve hours ago. We've been down here about eight. I think. Hard to tell. My phone is dying." She shook it as if that would get more battery life.
They sat at the edge of the old station platform where they withdrew to regroup.
"They're super-soldiers; they can handle this stuff. I'm still bleeding here."
"I dunno, they look pathetic right now." She nodded towards a staircase that ended at a concrete wall; Bucky had insisted Steve sit while he checked for more injuries."We thought Rogers was mothering, look at Barnes. If he pokes his arm one more time I think Steve's gonna deck him."
Bucky hovered, paced, worried, apologized; interspersed with poking and prodding; he examined nearly every inch of him until he was finally corralled by Steve's grip. He struggled against the pull to contain him; but Steve kept holding on, catching him with a hand, a leg, then a knee. "Slow down." A hand caressed his bicep. "I'm ok." A leg blocked his move to pace again. "Settle down." Another hand gripped his metal forearm and tugged. "Breathe." He felt his knees buckle as Steve dragged him down to fall between his legs; "It wasn't your fault." He gave in to the steadiness of Steve's hold.
"I nearly killed you." He mumbled against his chest.
"I'm still here, so you missed."
"Not funny."
Steve pulled him up to look at him. "You're a mess. Is that Nat's T shirt around your stomach?"
"Yes. I didn't look when she took it off if you're worried about that."
"Noooo. Not worried about that, worried about you getting shot again."
"Not shot. Stabbed. I'm fine." Bucky buried his face in his chest again.
He wanted to stay tucked against Steve for a few minutes longer but the sound of footfalls echoing in the tunnel dictated a change in plans.
"It's like they know where we are all the time." Sam grumbled as they moved as quickly as possible for four injured Secret Avengers. They ditched Ellingwood at the station. 'Not needed." Bucky had declared. Besides she was tagged and they still needed her intel.
Sam moaned with every step. His wound was mostly stable if he sat very still. Running down the dark and damp corridors under Boston was out of the question.
Steve was semi- delirious. "Bucky you know how amazing you look? That blood all over you is...stimulating." He sniffed at the blood until redirected by metal fingers. Then added, "You think we could take a break in one of these alcoves?"
The first time Steve said it, Bucky was happy to oblige thinking Steve needed to rest. The second time Bucky just kept going. "No Steve. Leave my pants alone, we are not going to 'do it' in the tunnels while Romanova and Wilson keep watch." Bucky hated to pass up that offer but someone had to be the 'responsible' one.
"Now you're the responsible one? What's this world coming to, Soldier?"
"Wow." Was all Natasha had to say.
Bucky blushed for real and was grateful it was too dark to tell.
He half carried, half dragged Steve while watching behind them for more Hydra goons.
"Barnes. What's the plan." Natasha fell in beside him.
He shook his head. "Escape."
"I like it. Global. How about the details."
"Escape alive."
"Timeline?"
"Soon."
"Seriously. Barnes." She grabbed his metal arm and stopped him. "What about them." She tilted her head towards Steve and glanced at Sam. "Sam's bleeding out; Steve's got a head injury. Are you really so singularly focused you'd risk their lives?"
"You know Steve. He won't leave if I stay."
"Then don't stay."
He juggled Steve on his hip, all six, heavy but gorgeous, feet of him. If Bucky had any experience with children he'd of compared himself to a mom with a toddler, almost. Steve nuzzled into him; his semi-coherent state giving him the freedom to throw an arm across his chest and over his shoulder, coming to rest draped around Bucky like a cozy quilt in winter. Which was all good by Bucky except when Steve bit his neck; hard; more than once, then licked at his sweat soaked skin.
With Natasha less than three feet away. Staring at him.
He could feel the shudder it sent down his spine all the way into his toes.
"Yeah. So. I could leave."
He wiggled his head and shoulder trying to get Steve to unclench his teeth.
"Look you don't get it." He tried to explain the importance of phase three of his plan which was really phase six of the overall plan.
"No I don't get it because you didn't include us in your elaborate plans. And do not say that you work alone. Not any more."
Steve's hand drifted to his back, right over the damaged kidney.
"Fuck. Fuck ok let go." He squirmed, groaned and wiggled then reached around to pull Steve's hand to his other hip.
"Barnes. What is the plan?" She gave him a look that conveyed her annoyance.
"One more stop. One more ED WAS HERE."
But his eyes got large; thankfully it was dark and Romanova didn't notice he hoped.
Steve's other hand had dropped to his cock and was slowly, meticulously, alarmingly stroking it.
Under any other circumstances he'd have been knocking Steve to the ground and fulfilling a lifelong dream.
But now was inconvenient. Somehow that hand was actually able to grope far up between his legs despite Bucky's best efforts to squeeze his thighs together with considerable force to prevent said groping.
Steve's fingers brushed then pinched his balls sending shock waves through his groin and up into his belly.
Bucky gave credit to the serum for how Steve could drag his hand so firmly between his locked down thighs and wrapped his fingers in an astoundingly tight fist around his cock right through the cargo pants.
Then again, maybe it was Steve's other hand on his ass that was accosting his genitals.
Maybe Steve had three hands. Bucky didn't really know because his mind went to morphing colors of red, blue, green then white. His face went red.
On a happier note: his cock got kinda hard.
"Things are looking up, Soldier!"
"Barnes. What the hell is going on?"
"Hard...Almost...Save me." He mumbled incoherently.
"What?" Seems Natasha really didn't see what was happening.
"It's darker out there in the real world than it is in here pal."
Bucky stared at her. He didn't want to tell her the truth. About any of it. The plan; or the way Steve was working magic on his genitals. He grabbed at the not so offending hand on his cock and the one that was snaking its way towards his rectum and swung him around like a ballroom dancer. He landed behind Steve; folding his hands up like a mummy.
"Right. Plan."
Sam saved him. "Hey we've got company again. It's like they're tracking us...I don't get it."
Bucky shifted his stare to Sam. "Shit."
"What's wrong now?" Natasha knew it was never a good sign when Barnes said shit.
"I swear I had no idea she was Hydra when I tagged you." Bucky looked maybe a bit sheepish when they relocated to a safer spot to dig out the tracker.
"You are such an asshole, Barnes."
"Well you knew that when you moved in."
"Why the hell did you do it?" Sam groused as Bucky tried to dig out the tracker by the fading light of a cell phone.
"She wanted to tag me. No way I'd let her do that." He snorted.
"So you did it to me? Jerk."
"It was funny at the time. You didn't even feel it."
"Funny? To whom, you and your damn voices?"
"Well, yeah if you need to know the Voice in my head thought it was hysterical." Bucky threw that out there with ease but it was a defensive tactical move; he only talked to Steve about the Voice; well and that new therapist, once, never again, maybe.
It ended with the tracker on the tip of his finger which he demonstrated to Sam.
"If I didn't feel it, then maybe she tagged you, and you don't even know it." Sam got in the last word sounding more like a schoolyard taunt than a grown-up.
"Sam! No taunting." Steve evoked one of his rules. Even in his confused state he knew the last thing a markedly paranoid former assassin needed was fuel.
Bucky spent the next thirty minutes perseverating. "Steve. Feel my neck. Can you feel anything. Steve. Here's the knife. Dig it out."
"It's ok, Buck, he didn't mean it. There's nothing there."
The four of them stood at the connector spot for the old Essex Street Station. The stairwell went up to the street. Only a wrought iron gate stood between them and sunlight, air, showers and sleep.
"Ok this is it. I've texted Fury's backup phone; he'll be here alone in one hour." Natasha clicked her phone off.
"Now we wait." Sam hugged his wings. He had insisted they divert to the station and pick them up. Considering he felt responsible for Sam getting shot, Bucky backtracked; circled; and if he was being honest, wandered around lost until he found the station and retrieved the wings. It was the least he could do; besides, he really wanted to get his jacket back.
Bucky ripped the chain from the gate and settled Steve on the stairs. He pulled the jacket over Steve's shoulders and tucked it around him. His hand played through the tousled blonde hair; scraping at the dried blood.
Steve leaned into his touch. "I'm sorry, Buck. I was wrong about her."
"Wrong about who?"
"You know who; Sharon. She betrayed us."
"We don't technically know that, yet."
"This mission should have clicked along without a hitch, instead someone's tried to kill you every step of the way."
Bucky squatted to search Steve's face, "You do realize what I've been for the last seventy years?"
"You've been lost."
"I've been killing people."
"Not any more."
"It doesn't just magically go away 'cuz you say so."
Steve sighed, "Back to Sharon; it has to be her."
"You really must have a head injury; not like you to change the topic. You're more bullheaded than that." Bucky poked at the gash on his head; squinting at the nearly congealed blood.
Romanova pulled him aside, "We'll come back, Barnes. I promise." She had regrets about abandoning the mission even if they were pissed about him keeping half of it a secret.
He shrugged as if it didn't matter; they fell silent and leaned side by side against the tiled wall of the staircase.
Natasha turned her shoulder to look closer at him.
"I need to ask you something?"
He was too tired to see it coming.
"Do you remember me?"
He didn't look up. Or move. Or say anything. But his breathing slowed.
"I thought for a minute there in the server room. In the mantrap, that you remembered me. Something or someone." She trailed off picking up on his stillness cues. How he looked ready, not relaxed; a slow burn of anger versus exhaustion.
"Or not." She turned away but kept him in her peripheral vision.
Bucky pushed away from the wall and stepped back into the station past the gate and away from Steve. He stopped and turned his head slightly. She took it for what he meant and followed him.
He cracked his neck side to side; never once looking at her. "Let's be clear, I do not owe you this."
"Then don't say it."
"No. I'm sayin' it because I know you, widow, you'll never stop bringing it up."
She started to argue but he interrupted.
"I remember..." He paused, gathering the images from a deeply hidden compartment, "I remember, a young stupid girl who thought she was helping but didn't." He hesitated again.
She shifted to see more of his face and whispered. "That girl never meant to hurt you."
He shook off her comment, "I remember schoolgirl questions about events that were best left dead and buried."
"I only wanted to help you."
"No. You were curious. You heard stories and had your big chance to talk to the Winter Soldier. I was a make-believe player in your fantasy world; not a person."
Romanova didn't argue. She had long thought the same thing about the night their paths crossed for the first time.
He sighed, "The stories told at night in the Red Room were fairy tales."
"You are real. She was real."
He shook his head again, "Stories told by lonely children desperate for love in a fucked up world."
"She loved you."
"Love is for children. You and I, the people of the Red Room are not, were not children."
"You loved her."
"You don't know anything about me...or her."
Romanova slipped one foot closer, "You said her name tonight right before you thought you were going to die. People don't do that when they don't have feelings..."
"Stop."
The energy of his pain was like an aura surrounding him. Her words and pressure stirred it's power; giving her a glimpse of why he resisted her touch.
"I know what I said." He spit out. "Don't mistake my last words as something meant for your ears or memory."
His turn to face her brought him within inches of her hand. He whispered, "I'm not threatening you, I won't touch you, but I won't put up with any more questions like this."
"Understood."
"I am going to ask you, as nicely as I can, to never say her name or mention her again. Can you give me that at least?"
She nodded 'Yes' as he moved away from her.
"Barnes. What about your message to Steve, you still want that delivered?"
"No." He tossed over his shoulder, "I'm alive. I'll tell him myself."
,
There was a thwacking noise that slowly came closer to their location.
Steve was resting nested against Bucky's shoulder as he sat propped up by the wall.
Natasha ran down the stairs from the street level "It's Fury. He's got a chopper on the roof next door."
Bucky helped Steve stand up. He wobbled but righted himself.
"So you should take this with you." He whispered and pushed the shield into Bucky's hand.
"What are you talking about, Rogers?" Bucky feigned he was clueless.
"I know you're gonna finish this. You were waiting for me to head out the door and you'd just disappear like you always do."
"I am offended by that accusation."
"Yeah. I'm right I know it. I can feel your anxiety vibrating in your chest. I think I even heard that Voice of yours talking up the plan."
"Wrong about the Voice, he's a coward. Always disappears when it gets tough."
"Not wrong about the plan though, am I?"
Bucky sighed as his answer.
Steve took Bucky's right hand to slip the shield into place. The gold cord caught on the grip.
"Hold it for me." He held out his wrist for Steve to unhook the cord. "Don't lose it. Don't let Wilson touch it."
I won't lose it or let Sam touch it." Steve smiled.
"You can wear it." Bucky whispered as he tilted his head towards him to hint that their mouths would connect, but not quite.
"No kiss?" Steve wondered.
"Nope. I'll never leave if I do."
"I'll go with you, the serum will kick in. I can walk it off."
"Rogers, you and your damn serum, you'll only be in the way."
"They have an army after us, they'll be waiting for you."
Nope. I got rid of the tracker in Wilson. They don't know where I'm heading. In and out, that's the plan."
"Don't leave. Give me a day maybe two. I'll back you up."
"I'm sorry, Steve, I need to do this." Bucky laid a hand on his chest and turned to go.
"Wait, Buck, the house isn't safe. Where will we meet?"
"This time, Rogers, I'll find you."
Bucky left before Fury arrived. He was done trusting anyone except Steve; next Romanova, and Wilson although he'd take that secret to his grave.
"Hopefully not anytime soon."
"Hey, pal. Nice of you to show up."
"Nice shield. It's got our red star."
"My red star. Not yours. Mine and Steve's."
He tested the balance and weight of the shield on his arm. It felt a lot like the old one from what he could recall. It wasn't its physical attributes that bothered him; it was the implications. Steve was hurt enough to stop going forward. Bucky couldn't recall him ever stopping like that. He gave up the Captain America shield for him, to protect him. Now he gave him the new shield and let him walk away.
"What the hell are you doing Rogers?"
He wasn't lost in his thoughts enough to forget his surroundings; or lose track of his direction. He kept his only real weapon in his hand and the shield hefted and ready in the other.
"One more stop. One more ED WAS HERE."
"You always had such a soft heart, child. It will be your downfall. Better to forget and be the Soldier than to be a bleeding heart."
Bucky stopped short. A rush of adrenalin washed through his brain and chest. "What?" The voice wasn't that of his constant tormenting companion. It was different, softer, feminine.
A tremor shook through him as he looked around the dark tunnels; as if the voice was outside of his head. He hoped it was outside; didn't want to believe it could be anything else.
"Pasha, my child, you will always belong to me."
The change in tone nearly made him stumble; but the sound of feet running brought him around with the gun aimed at the first person to come into his sight. He hoped he could fight off the old Widow's control before Hydra took him forever.