From the minute the gas hits his nostrils, to the moment he'd gotten Bucky back to the cave, Steve can only remember a single force driving him. Fear.
Never before had he feared for everyone's lives so viciously. He knew this was truly a life or death situation.
And when Morita's mask gets shattered, that feeling skyrockets times a thousand. Steve's pretty sure he doesn't even think before shoving his own mask on Morita's face. It's one of the few times he allows the emotion to control him instead of trying to control it. IT's making decisions before he can even think about it.
And the gas burnt. Yes. But he could tell it wasn't going to kill him or… couldn't kill him. At least not yet.
So he pushes on.
—
He ignores Morita's constant warnings and tries to get him to be reasonable about their chances and their team's chances of survival. That's just not an option.
He's talking about regrouping and searching by sections and Morita keeps telling him to be prepared for what he might find. He ignores it.
He gets Morita hurt in the next fight and captured in the next.
He's staring at the man with burnt hands holding Jim and Steve realizes that the gas had affected these men too. A stupid plan on their part. Or… was there another set of players on the field? These men weren't dressed in a discerning uniform. The drive they were after would be valuable to many dangerous groups. Is that why this mission had gone to shit? Because there's now multiple players on the board after this information?
The thought adds to Steve's fear.
—
Somehow Morita has something to argue about every time he tries to fix the situation. It's aggravating because he can always see Morita's logic, but he can't focus on logic right now. He needs the impossible. Howard gave him these gifts. He has to be the impossible. Pain, discomfort, reality? Those are ignored. He has to save his team.
Blaze is fine. And Steve latches onto that. His team is highly trained and skilled. They would have done everything they could have to survive.
So he carries Blaze on his shoulder until he finds a safe haven. He thanks whatever lucky stars are watching over them because it's the perfect place to hide. A sort of curve in the entrance so no one could enter without having to hunch and be seen first by those inside.
Morita again insists on going back out with him, but when they find Castle, and he's in dire need of medical attention, Steve is able to convince him to stay in the cave and look after him. Steve hopes the rest helps Morita as well.
—-
Desperate relief uncurls in Steve's chest when he finds Clint. His fear and skills take over when he engages with the hostiles. And he settles in his mind that there has to be more than one group they are fighting against. These men had a different style of dress, different facial features that made Steve think they weren't local. And these men weren't afraid to be as violent as possible. So someone else vying for the intel.
The first grenade misses him and sends him stumbling forward from the heat, but the second sends him flying through the air, stunned and breathless as he smashes against a set of rocks. He hopes Clint's body is far enough away. He can smell his singed skin and he has to swallow the nausea down. They're on him in seconds but again the fear takes over. Somehow his knife is in his hand and he's fighting back, 4 men vs. just him and he takes one down with the knife, before realizing he has a pistol on his hip. Thankfully his vision is better and he takes out two more, sustaining another bullet in the process.
When it's him versus tha last man, they stand at a draw, both with guns raised.
"American." The man spits out.
Steve grits his teeth, "and you?"
"A man of honor. Unlike you, you fascist pig."
Really the only thing Steve can think is that his English is really good. And then he hears himself say, "sorry you feel that way."
The guy shows confusion and it's that moment that Steve takes the shot.
The man drops and Steve sinks to his knees.
And he does vomit then. It burns double coming up and he has a bad feeling he'll be vomiting up gas for a while.
He looks at the carnage around him. And his fear is glad. But his mind is sickened. Everyone wants to think they're on the right side.
But he shoves that thought down and heads over to Clint, hoisting his body up and carrying him to safety.
—-
The explosion makes Steve race out of the cave once more.
And it leads him to two groups engaged in a fire fight. He's crouched, up on a higher elevation, peering over rocks and watching the ensuing fight beneath him.
But then he sees a familiar blue jacket and his rage overwhelms his fear for a moment. Bucky is on the ground, face slack and arm at a strange angle. His skin looks red from gas exposure and one of the men has a boot on his chest.
Was he dead? He'd watched him disappear off the other side of that cliff. But if he was dead why would they have him? He had tech from Howard Stark… maybe they wanted his gear.
But maybe they wanted a hostage.
He doesn't waste another second. Ignoring the jarring spike of the shrapnel in his side and burns on his skin, he leaps over the rock and crashes into the group below, sending at least five of them crumbling to the ground. They're confused for a moment and he's able to yank up Bucky's body onto his shoulder before they can regroup.
He has his pistol drawn and his back against the rocks.
There's a long terse silence as the group he'd jumped on stands and backs away, guns pointed at him, and the opposing group peeks their heads over their barricade and watches in confusion.
He hadn't brought Howard's shield this trip because he didn't think he would need it and they were limited on space.
He vows in that moment to never leave it again.
They're shouting something in a language he doesn't understand. And then they start shooting.
He does the best he can. But when a bullet hits Bucky's arm, he realizes this isn't going to go the way he hopes.
Gently as possible, he deposits Bucky's body behind him and starts to really fight. Discharging the empty magazine and replacing it with inhuman speed.
He has no concept for how long h e fights until it falls quiet. He's bleeding, beat up, and definitely shot more times than should be possible and still standing, but he finally manages to whittle it down to him and 4 others. 3 from the side he hadn't jumped on, and one from the side he did. They're at a standstill, each group hidden behind a rock or some form of cover, unable to get hit but also unable to shoot the other.
He looks back to check on Bucky and his heart leaps to see him gone.
Wide eyed and enraged he turns back around, "who took him?"
There's no response from those ducking behind their cover.
Steve takes three deep breaths lets the fear blossom and bloom through his chest, he needs that to fuel him through the crushing, blinding pain he's in.
Without warning, he jumps from behind his cover and starts running.
—-
The one man left from the first group is surprised to be ambushed behind his barricade. And Steve knocks him out with the butt of his own rifle. He grabs another gun off of him that has a full magazine, and then he's running again.
The second group is not caught unawares, and Steve is dodging bullets left and right. If he was in top shape he could do a much better job of avoiding these bullets but he thinks he takes at least one or two as he crashes through their barricade and sends the scattering.
Shouting in a language he can't comprehend fills his ears, but he's too busy fighting, up close, hand to hand with the first two and then slinging the pistol back up and taking out the third.
They don't make it easy, but they aren't a match for him, not even in his wrecked state.
His chest is heaving, he can feel the blood oozing from the wounds in his sides, but all he does is stare at the now unconscious or dead bodies.
Bucky is gone. Which means throughout the fight someone had snuck around him and gotten ahold of him and taken him somewhere.
Now he just had to figure out where.
—-
It takes over three hours to track him down. A small compound comes into view and he knows on instinct that this had been their original goal site before it had all went to hell.
There's at least 20 men milling around, and he can see a sort of commotion by the biggest structure. There's no sight lines on Bucky but he's sure he's here. He has to be.
Steve slinks back, getting behind cover and assessing. There's not much he can do for the wounds at the moment. Most have stopped bleeding in the three hours it took to find Bucky. He thanks his continuing luck that he'd been well fed and hydrated before this mission as it's helping keep his strength up now that he can't remember the last time he had a sip of water.
He reloads whatever ammo he has, cleans his knives and repositions his weapons to be within the easiest reach.
Then he closes his eyes and starts to plan.
—
After 15 minutes he knows it's the most foolish plan he can even begin to imagine. But even him against 20 men in his state is harsh odds. So… he chooses the stupid plan.
—-
Shouting alerts the whole compound of his approach. Guns are trained on him, but they don't shoot. His single man approach, a shred of white cloth tied to the top of his rifle flowing in the hot breeze creates a sense of unease in those behind the fence. They shift and stare and fidget, their fingers itchy on their triggers.
He stops well outside the make-shift gate and waits.
A man who Steve assumes is their leader approaches the gate and stares at Steve. "This is not war. You cannot surrender."
"It's the only thing I have to use." Steve admits wryly. "I just wanted you to listen before you decided to shoot me."
"Do not pretend you did not come here to shoot us first."
"I'd prefer not to shoot anyone at all." Steve grimaces, "but the drive you have is dangerous. And you're planning on selling it into dangerous hands. I can't allow that."
The man blinks, clearly surprised and trying not to show it. "You have no idea. Our—" he seems to struggle to think of the word, "—responsibility lies with our people."
"And so you'd sell sensitive information to the Ten Rings? What about those who suffer under their tyrannical power grab?"
"You don't know—"
"Gulmira." Steve grits out, "didn't you see what they did there? They won't stop. They want to dominate anyone and everyone. They won't remember the favors you've done for them. They will want to conquer you eventually. And if you hand over that drive, then you're giving them the power to do it."
The man is smarter and more observant than Steve could hope as he stares at Steve and seems to think. His eyes are nailed onto Steve as he finally speaks, slow and enunciating each word. "And you, an American, have all the answers do you?"
Steve shakes his head, "no. I don't. But you have my best friend. And I want him back. But also…" he takes a deep breath and hopes this isn't the stupidest thing he's ever done in a long line of stupid things. "If you won't hand over the drive, or at least destroy it… I will fight you for as long as I can."
The man's eyes widen in disbelief and with a hint of humor, "you? Against all 20 of us?"
Steve shrugs, "I've survived worse."
Maybe not technically true. But… then again… maybe it is.
Again, the man's wisdom is apparent since he doesn't just order Steve to be shot on sight. "And so… If I am not to hand it over to the Ten Rings. Who are willing to pay an incredible price. Then what am I to do? Since you seem to know about them, you know they will kill us and raze our homes if we do not do as we have been ordered."
"They'll do that one day anyways." Steve responds, "the leaders of Gulmira reported that they had cooperated with the head of the Ten Rings and now they're refugees seeking asylum wherever they can."
Steve has no idea why this man is even willing to speak to him, to consider another option. But… that feeling is still pumping through his veins. Fear. This man knows what Steve is saying is correct. He's doing what he thinks will keep his people safe.
Steve sets his rifle down, resting the muzzle against his thigh, "I think there are really only two options. Do as you intended, sell it to the Ten Rings and then hope that they don't turn on you or—" he winces, "run. Take your families, and. go. Find someplace the Ten RIngs can't find you."
Someone translates what he says and teh group murmurs unhappily. Any second one of these men could put a bullet through his brain.
But that's not where the bullet comes from. It comes from behind.
—
Steve's being hauled into the compound through the gate when he finally is back to consciousness. He must have only been out for a few minutes.
People are speaking. He can tell it's the man he was speaking too and another who he assumes is the one who caught him in the back. He internally winces. The bullet passed through but not without knocking what feels like a rib and his lung.
Blood drips out of his mouth and he lets it. Not wanting to alert them he's conscious. He's tossed onto the dust and he stays there.
The talking doesn't seem angry but he's not entirely sure. He receives a kick to the goat which surprises him enough to illicit a groan.
Hands grab him and haul him up onto his knees. Steve blinks his eyes open and looks up to face with a man he's only seen a picture of.
A hawk like nose, smooth skin on his head, and a tattoo of the Ten Rings symbol on his neck.
The leader known as Raza.
"So the eagle awakens."
Steve doesn't respond.
"You know I always found it fascinating—" his accent is strong but his words are precise. "How America chose a glorified vulture as its symbol. I think your nation needs to understand that simply because something is large and may look majestic on the outside, does not mean it is majestic and virtuosic on the inside."
"Virtuos." Steve responds, his throat dry. He swallows, "interesting word coming from a man who bombed a village mere days ago."
Raza grins, "Ah, but you see, I am not pretending. We do what we do to shape the world how we want. By whatever means necessary."
Steve's eyes travel to the man he'd been speaking to behind the gate. He is stoic, unwavering, but his eyes are sharply pinned to his. Steve knows the man is afraid of Raza. But Steve is also pretty sure that the man knows Steve is right. And he's warring with himself.
He still hasn't seen Bucky.
"Then let me not pretend either." Steve takes a pause to look around. The amount of men he is now inconveniently at odds with has almost doubled. "If you want to live, you'll surrender or leave."
The man guffaws, leaning his head back and filling the air with mirth.
Steve does not laugh. And a cold muzzle presses against his forehead. The man's laughter is gone and a cold and calculated expression has replaced it. "Say that again."
The fear is suddenly quiet. Absent. It's one millisecond at a time.
Steve opens his mouth. "Surrender, or—" his eyesight catches the muscle contraction in the man's wrist. Quicker than he knows is humanly possible, he yanks sideways, swipes the man's arm hard enough to knock him backwards and the gun out of his hand. Then Steve is up on his feet, hand grasping the man's neck and his own pistol pointing at the man's heart. He's pressing the man back and down. The man stays on his feet but his body is arched backwards and only Steve's grip on his neck is keeping him from falling backwards.
30 or more guns click onto him, but no one shoots. Whether it's fear they'll hit the leader, or fear Steve will kill him before they get the chance.
"Tell them to lower their weapons."
The man shakes his head. "No."
Steve clicks off the safety and tries again, "I would rather rid the world of you than save my own life." His voice is steely and he leaves no room for the man to think he's bluffing. "Your choice."
The man, hands gripping Steve's, struggling to breath just slightly, stares at him for a long second before he raspily shouts something in his language.
15 guns lower. Then Steve, pistol still pressed against the man's chest, looks to the other leader, "get me my friend. Now." He doesn't ask them to lower their guns. He's reasonably sure they won't shoot him. He can't explain why. But he thinks they are now on his side. But maybe that's the blood loss talking.
The man's eyes stay on Steve as he says something to the soldier next to him. The man nods and disappears.
A sharp pain makes Steve wince and he looks down. Raza's slightly bulging eyes are on his side, fingers grazing against where the shrapnel sticks out the farthest. Then Raza's fingers hit a bullet wound and he watches as the man seems to come to the realization that he had shot Steve, and in addition to his other injuries, is functioning fine. His keen ups flick up to Steve's face. "Who are you?"
It takes every ounce of Steve's almost 20 year old self to not say something stupid and childish like "your worst nightmare".
"Someone who won't let you terrorize the world just so you can feel important and powerful."
Lightning sharp pain blisters inward from his side and he hisses out, sucking in air through his teeth, fighting the urge to either drop the man or shoot him as Raza purposely pushes the shrapnel in further, trying to goad Steve.
Steve's grip on his neck tightens and he brings the man's face closer to him, "there is nothing you can do to save yourself." He says quietly in a tone that he's never used before. Something unlike himself. "I will decide whether you live or die. Understood?"
The pain lessens as the man drops his hand. But his eyes are enraged. Powerful men do not like their power stripped from them. They do not like being publicly seen as the weakest.
Suddenly Rumlow's face blinks in his mind and then is gone.
He doesn't have time to process that as two men come carrying Bucky out.
"Is he breathing?" Steve asks, his eyes on his friend.
The leader translates it and the men respond. The leader looks almost apologetic, "barely, they say."
"You, me, and them are walking out of here." Steve shouts, "Far enough till I feel safe, and then I'll let you go."
The man scoffs, "You think I will let you go after this? You think there is anywhere in this world I won't find you? I will hunt you like the dog you are until your blood pools hot at my feet."
Steve then hauls him up, causing him to stumble onto his own feet as they come face to face. "Can't wait." He replies, glaring at the man with no emotion. "Let's go."
The two men carrying Bucky haul him along as they walk backwards out of the camp. They walk for maybe 35 minutes before Steve feels like he could make it far enough without being followed.
"Set him down."
They comply and Steve can just hear the fluttering of Bucky's heart.
"Start walking." He commands. They face him but they start slowly walking back towards their encampment. Once they're out of eyesight, Steve turns to Raza.
"I know you and your little team of rats are around here somewhere." Raza hisses, "If you release me alive then I will come looking."
And Steve has nothing but snarky responses. Maybe Morita is running off on him. "Sounds like fun. Haven't played hide and seek for a while."
The man narrows his eyes and Steve shoves him away, making him stumble and hit the ground. Steve keeps the pistol aimed at him as he bends downs nd lifts Bucky up onto his shoulder.
The man watches in surprise and Steve starts to back away. "See you later." Steve calls, before passing behind a large curve in the stone walls around them and disappearing.
He lets the fear take over now, forcing his feet faster and faster, sprinting with inhuman speed.
—
He keeps calling Bucky's name, trying to get him conscious. But there's no noticeable response.
Bucky's a mess. He hears his heart start to stutter on the way back to the cave and the sound of fear that exits his mouth is otherworldly. He picks up speed, panting and gasping for air.
Everyone's asleep or passed out when he makes it in. Dazed fingers and an empty brain come up with the second stupidest plan he's had that day.
—
"You know…" Natasha says with a grin, "I'm trusting you."
Steve looks up, "what? Trusting me with what?"
Her face has a kindness to it, but he can also tell she's serious, "I trust you. To bring him home."
The weight of that settles on him, "oh."
"He's going because of you—" Steve starts to speak and she shushes him, "no, I know. I know that he's an adult and can make his own choices. But let's be honest, Steve… He would never have considered going into the military if you hadn't decided. So… no matter what, you better bring him home. And Clint." Then she gives her trademark smirk, "and yourself, too."
His immediate reaction is to say that that's not fair. He doesn't deserve the weight or guilt associated with that statement. That his choices are his and no one else's.
But he doesn't say that. He nods instead, looking at his thin fingers and the scar on his elbow, and whispers back quietly, "I will."
—
It takes several tries to find a vein that isn't dehydrated on both of them, but he finally manages. And then he prays. Prays that this isn't going to kill Bucky, that it's going to work, that it has to work. He cries and he rests an ear on Bucky's chest and a finger on the pulse point of his neck.
The rash on Bucky's face is so severe. He must have breathed in copious amounts— No. He can't go down that route of thinking. This will work. Bucky's arm is bruised and swollen. Steve adjusts it so it's resting and elevated and he cleans the bullet wound and dresses it. There's small scratches and scrapes, probably from being dragged around. And his ankle is a tad swollen but doesn't look broken.
Steve dribbles water onto his face, eyes, and down his mouth to try to soothe something, anything.
And then he leans over Bucky and feels weightless, cold, and dizzy.
—-
"Steve? Steve, what the hell happened?"
Suddenly the needle is being pulled out of his arm and he tries to fight that. No, Bucky needs his blood.
Jim's asking him questions he can barely think of an answer too. And when Morita says, "he's fine! He probably doesn't even need blood!"
The feeling of relief that he's healing, and the feeling of dread knowing what he'd just done mixed. And he reaches for comfort, something he hasn't done for a long while. When Morita's hand grasps his, providing comfort, he can't do anything but just cry.
—
He feels better after a 20-ish minute reprieve, and he tries to be useful. Morita is smart, asking questions and arguing with him. But he can barely focus on that. He can't worry about that. He can't change that.
He admits that he told Natasha he promised to bring Bucky home, but Morita doesn't know what he's talking about.
The combination of blood loss, his wounds, the lack of food, water or sleep, is really starting to get to him. And he's feeling woozy and a bit lightheaded like he can't pull in enough air.
And Morita's just about convinced him to take a breather when they hear gunfire. And all the tension he'd released knowing Bucky was going to make it, ratchets all the way back up. If Raza found this cave… they'd all be dead. So he needs to get out there and lead them away from here.
Morita tries to grab his hand, stop him from going, but he ignores it, heading out towards the gunfire.
—-
Two vehicles are overturned and on fire.
Steve has no idea what happened or why, but Raza and maybe six of his men are shooting at the other group, who are scrambling and running for cover.
Steve runs forward, bellowing to surprise the groups and get them confused. It works. And as they try to regroup the rage in Raza's eyes is clear. They start shooting at him, but he's able to avoid the barrage, kicking the car with his heavy boot and sending them shouting and running as it slides backwards into them.
Suddenly the other group is on his side, shooting and taking out a few of the Ten RIngs members as a firefight ensues.
Steve approaches Raza who shoots at him, but he dodges and suddenly they're fist fighting. But the man is used to having power from afar. He's scrappy, mean, but he's not a trained combat fighter. Soon Steve has him disarmed and on the ground on his back.
Raza shouts something, and there's only a second before Steve realizes it's not a shout at him. It's a directive to someone else.
And he only has another second to throw his hands up to cover his face as something hot flashes against him, blasting him backwards.
He's pretty sure he slams against the other flipped car because he feels the slice sharp of metal into his side.
If he was a cartoon, birdies would be flying around his head.
He tries to get up and stumbles sideways, crashing back to the ground.
Hands are grabbing him and he's flailing, trying to fight them when he hears a "calm, eagle, calm." Whispered urgently to him. The other leader. He manages to slide his eyes open and the bloody face of the other man is in his, "stay quiet." The man whispers. He can't even comprehend what happens next, only that he's hoisted up and dragged somewhere.
"You need to get out of here." The man says, "he will kill you."
But then there's more gunfire and heat and the man is gone.
It's harder to feel the fear now that he knows everyone else is safe.
I will come find you. He hears Peggy say firmly in his mind, the memory of her leaving for college and making him promise to come home. If you break your promise, I will haunt you.
And that kicks him into gear.
He finds he's tucked behind the other burning car, his side is like someone is shoving a razor blade into it but he can't do anything about that right now. He half crawls, half pulls himself up using the burning car. His hands don't like that, but again, that goes ignored. The heat from the fires and the sun is making everything wavy.
There's only four men left, three on one side and they've got their guns pointed at the last man challenging them.
Then Steve watches as Raza shoots the man. The leader. The man who had just saved him. Rage and despair fills him as the man crumbles to the ground and then he's barreling forward, knocking Raza down and landing a fist to the man's jaw.
He grabs the gun he was holding and takes down the last two men with him, taking them by surprise. They crumple and Steve places another fist to knock Raza unconscious.
He scrambles over to the leader whose eyes are glazed and breath wavering.
"Stay with me." Steve coughs out. "Come on—" he tries to put pressure on the wound, but the man shakes his head. A weak hand shoves his away, and before he can protest, the man reaches into his pocket.
Steve's eyes widen as the man produces what he assumes is the drive. The intel. "Do—" the man chokes out, trying to suck in more air, "—right—" is the only thing Steve can make out as the man's hand falls onto his, depositing the bloody drive before going limp and hitting the ground with a thud.
Steve's fist closes around the drive, anguish filling him.
And the sound of a hammer clicking back makes him go rigid.
"Give that to me."
Steve turns slowly, seeing Raza still on the ground, nose bloody and eye swelling. BUt a gun pointed at him.
"Never." Steve spits back. The trigger gets pulled and Steve yanks his body sideways, allowing the bullet to hit his shoulder, but avoiding a kill shot. He scrambles, rolling out of the way of another shot before circling back and managing to kick the gun from his grip. It goes clattering against the dust and rocks and Steve stares down at the man.
Raza glares up at him. "You are not a human." He breathes out, anger clear but also a curiosity, "you could not survive all that you have survived. Who are you?"
Steve reaches into his holster and removes his last pistol. He holds it in his hands and Raza looks at it. There is no fear there, simply resignation. Like an opponent who knows they're about to be checkmated and there's nothing to be done.
But Steve just stands there. Half dazed out of his mind in pain and blood loss.
And he can't kill him. The man is unarmed. It would be murder.
Even though he knows riding teh world of this man would save countless other lives.
"If you let me live," Raza starts slowly, probably seeing his hesitation, "I will not hesitate to hunt you down—"
"Like a dog." Steve cuts him off blandly, "I know. You said."
"Then kill me, mutt."
"No."
Raza scoffs, "you're a fool."
"Maybe." Steve whispers out, "but I'm not a murderer. I'm not you."
Steve tucks the drive into his boot, keeping the pistol pointed at Raza. Just because he won't kill him unarmed doesn't mean he wouldn't kill him in self-defense.
For some reason that makes sense to Steve. Although he's really not sure the difference. It's just… what he has to do.
He can't think straight. He coughs, blood spattering, it still burns. But he's backing away. The carnage he has left in his wake during this whole mission is like a 100lb lead slug to the gut.
Raza's eyes stay trained on him. He leaves a different way than he came, just to ensure he's not followed back to the cave. Although with just Raza left alone, he's pretty sure they will be fine.
And the last words he hears Raza say are "see you soon." Before he's out of sight and running.
—
After passing out and then waking up violently to throw up, he has a quick morbid conversation with Morita. And then he's asking a lot of questions and in shock about the drive, but Steve can't really think right now. So he's just going to sleep.
—-
Present
Steve lets out a soft sigh. "And that's it."
Bucky feels tired. His dry eyes watch Steve who is sitting against the wall, shoulders slumped, eyes a million miles away.
"So what are you going to do?" He finally whispers out.
Steve's head shakes slowly. "I—" his voice is so tired and resigned, "I don't know."
—-