When darkness falls, you can't escape
When hope is lost, will you be saved?
The angels cry, you lose your faith
You close your eyes, is this your fate?
I feel a change under my skin
So it begins
- "Ready to Fight" by Girl on Fire
Bucky didn't sleep at all that night. He couldn't. For one thing, Brad was right below him the entire time. The real Brad, his new cellmate. Bucky knew he was probably just imagining it, but he couldn't banish the thought that Brad's eyes were boring into the thin layer of metal and cloth separating them. Watching and waiting for the moment he'd let his guard down.
There was also a lot of yelling. It didn't seem to matter what time of night or day it was, someone was always making noise, whether they were fighting, arguing, or yelling insults at each other through the vents. The sound echoed off the bare cinder block walls, making his head pound.
As if that wasn't enough, all the lights turned on at some point in the middle of the night, and they all had to line up outside their cell doors so they could be counted when the next guard shift came in. Even if Bucky had been able to nod off, he wouldn't have been able to get more than a few hours of sleep anyway.
By the time the lights switched on again and they were all roused to get ready for breakfast, Bucky was miserable. Well, more miserable than he'd already been. His head pounded, and his back ached from lying on the thin mattress all night. He was starving, and his eyes were itchy with exhaustion.
As he lined up with all the others on the bottom level of the cell block, Bucky's eyes darted everywhere, trying to watch everything at once. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his enhanced senses flooding his mind with too much information. He could hear everyone's conversations. He could smell the food trays being handed out at the door. He could see two men sitting at a nearby table and eyeing him, he could read their lips as one told the other that he was Brad's cellmate...
Calm down, he told himself sternly as he shuffled steadily forward. Be alert, but don't look frightened. That'll make you a target.
He noted the way the inmates around him moved, and strove to imitate them, to fit in. He shuffled his feet, he schooled his face to an expression of disinterest, and he didn't look anyone in the eye. It was probably useless to hope that no one would notice him, but he could do his best to avoid drawing more attention to himself than necessary.
When Bucky finally got his tray of food and carefully balanced it in his one hand, he realized with a swoop of apprehension that he'd need to pick a place to sit. His eyes darted around, trying to decide where would be safest. Brad sat with a couple other inmates sporting similar tattoos, but Bucky was pretty sure he wouldn't be welcome there.
Someone stood up and went to join a friend at another table, leaving a table empty except for an old Black man. Bucky headed over there, sliding into the seat the other man had vacated. The old man glanced up, shared a nod of greeting, then returned his focus to shoveling soggy eggs into his mostly-toothless mouth.
The food was terrible, but Bucky had expected that. It had been the same in the London prison—adequate, but not appetizing. Bucky dutifully ate it, knowing he would regret it later if he didn't, but he couldn't help wondering what Steve and Sam were eating that morning. Even that sticky, tasteless mush Steve called oatmeal would be preferable.
I'm never complaining about Steve's cooking again, he silently vowed as he spooned something into his mouth that might have been applesauce.
Three men suddenly sat down at the table—one on either side of Bucky, one across from him. They were all pretending to be casual about it, but they kept glancing at him when they thought he wasn't looking.
"First-timer?" the man sitting across from him asked. He'd rolled up the sleeves of his prison uniform, revealing pale, muscular arms. Matching skull tattoos grinned from each shoulder.
Bucky hesitated, then nodded.
"Where you from?" the skinny man on Bucky's right asked, mopping up his eggs with a crust of bread.
"Brooklyn."
"Yeah?" The large man with a shaved head on his left squinted at him suspiciously over his paper cup. "Don't sound like it."
"How'd you lose that arm?" the man across the table asked before Bucky could respond.
Bucky's fingers tightened around his plastic spoon. He didn't like the way they were all staring at him. At his empty left sleeve. "I fell."
The man with the shaved head muttered something like I bet you did, but the skinny one was already asking, "So what you in here for?"
Bucky gritted his teeth. "Apparently, I blew up the U.N."
They all stared at him, until finally the one across the table swore and stood up. Bucky tensed when they all got to their feet, but they just left him behind, finding another place to sit. They sent dark looks of suspicion over their shoulders at him.
For the rest of the day, Bucky spent his time trying to stay out of everyone's way. Word seemed to travel fast. A few more inmates spoke to him, asking the same questions the others had, but soon they stopped approaching him. Instead, Bucky just had to endure their stares and whispers when he passed. He noticed a lot of looks being directed to his empty sleeve and the scars all over his right arm.
He wanted desperately to call Steve, just to hear his voice and escape this prison, just for a few minutes. But to use the phones, he needed a PIN number, and he hadn't been given one yet.
It doesn't matter, he kept telling himself. Tomorrow is the bail hearing, and then you'll be home. Tomorrow you'll be with Steve again. Just get through today.
There wasn't much to do. He watched the others and followed their example, trying not to stand out more than he already did. He paced slowly around the bottom level. He sat in the chairs in front of the TV set up at one end and mindlessly stared at the screen, trying to control his nerves as he listened to unseen people walking behind him.
Brad didn't speak to him at all that day. He seemed to spend a lot of time in their cell, talking to other inmates. Bucky was perfectly happy to stay away from him and the men who hung around him, all of whom seemed cut from the same cloth. He didn't like the way they looked at him whenever he happened to pass by.
The hours oozed by sluggishly until sometime in the afternoon, when a guard opened the door to the cell block and bellowed, "Barnes! Visitor!"
Bucky couldn't get out of there fast enough. He was surprised that anyone had come by to visit, but he certainly wasn't going to complain. The guard fastened a chain around Bucky's waist and cuffed his hand to it, then directed him down a series of hallways.
The guard strip-searched him before leading him to a small, bare visitation room like the one in London. There was nothing in the room besides a table with chairs facing each other. The guard unfastened Bucky's handcuff, then left him alone in the room with the man sitting at the table.
It wasn't Steve, as he'd hoped against hope it would be. Judging from the dark-haired man's suit, the briefcase at his side, and the folders on the table, Bucky realized that he must be an attorney. His attorney. The man wore small, round sunglasses, and tilted his head as if listening to Bucky's approach rather than watching it. When he rose and held out his hand for Bucky to shake, it was obvious he wasn't actually looking at Bucky's face.
So, he's blind and I've only got one arm. If the judge is deaf and the prosecutor is in a wheelchair... He just hoped this attorney had a sense of humor, because it sounded like the beginning of a bad joke.
"Bucky Barnes, correct?" the man said, shaking Bucky's hand firmly. "My name is Matt Murdock. Steve visited me this morning and told me the whole story. I'll be your legal counsel from here on, if that's all right with you."
Bucky let out a breath. "Steve hired you?"
"Yes."
Every concern instantly evaporated. If Steve was satisfied with his choice, Bucky had no complaints.
Once they had both sat down again, Matt pulled out a small voice recorder. "First of all, Mr. Barnes, I'd like it if you could tell me your story. Everything said in this room is completely confidential, so please don't hold back."
"Just Bucky is fine." He rubbed his hand nervously up and down his leg. "Um...didn't Steve tell you everything already?"
Matt smiled. "Yes, but I would like to hear your version of the events. A different perspective may bring new details to light."
So Bucky related the events of that day yet again. He almost wished there was actually something to tell, because it wasn't much of a story. Would a boring story make his innocence more believable?
When Bucky had finished, Matt nodded in satisfaction. "That seems to line up with what Steve told me. Naturally, we'll have to see what sort of evidence the prosecution comes up with, but as things stand right now, I'm very confident in our chances."
Bucky's heart lifted a little. "So...you believe me?"
Matt actually laughed. "Believe you? You have a rock-solid alibi except for a space of two hours when you were alone in the hotel room. That's roughly the amount of time it would take for you to fly from London to Vienna—never mind getting from the airport to the U.N. building and setting up a bomb, and then making it back to London in time to be seen at the U.S. Embassy. So unless the prosecution is somehow able to convince the jury you can be in two places at once, I don't think you have anything to worry about."
It was the first time in this whole ordeal that Bucky had heard such confidence. As encouraging and positive as Steve had always tried to be, Bucky had been able to detect the thinly-veiled fear in him. Neither of them knew anything about the legal world, so they didn't know what to expect. Even McFayden had seemed worried about his chances, and then it had been so hard to find an attorney that even believed he was innocent...
He could see why Steve had hired Matt.
"So," Matt said, turning off the voice recorder and pocketing it, "the arraignment is tomorrow morning. We'll go before the judge, who will formally charge you, and we'll enter a plea of not guilty. That's also when the decision will be made concerning bail. The prosecutor and I will both make arguments, and then the judge will make the final ruling."
Bucky nodded, swallowing nervously. "O-Okay."
Matt hesitated a moment, then leaned forward slightly, turning his head a little to the side as if to listen more closely. For him, it was probably similar to looking directly into someone's eyes. "Bucky...I know we all hope you'll be able to go home tomorrow, and I'll do everything I can to achieve that outcome. But I want you to be prepared for the possibility that it won't happen."
At the thought, Bucky's stomach swooped with dread. "No...Steve can pay. He...has enough, no matter what the amount is..."
Matt shook his head. "I mean there's a high likelihood that you'll be denied bail altogether. The crime you're being charged with is a serious one; if you were found guilty, you'd be facing life behind bars. In my experience, that almost always means no bail."
A huge shudder ran down Bucky's spine. "But...But I'm innocent..."
"I know. This is just a precaution, until all the evidence can be heard." Even with the sunglasses obscuring his eyes, Bucky could see the look of concern on Matt's face. It seemed genuine. "I know it's a hard thing to face, but this won't be forever. You just have to hold on until we get to that trial, and then the whole world will hear the truth. You can't give up hope yet."
Bucky drew a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He had to clear his throat before he could speak. "Yeah...okay."
"All right. I'll just need you to sign these." Matt took several papers out of his folder and slid them across the table, along with a pen.
Bucky looked down at the first page, skimming over information about his birth date, permanent address, initial payment received...
He stopped, pen poised over the line at the bottom of the paper. "Wait, this...this payment. It has to be a typo. It's supposed to be fifteen thousand or something, right?"
Matt chuckled. "No, you read it right."
The number seemed to swim across the page towards him. $150,000. A sum neither he nor Steve would have been able to even imagine when they were growing up."He didn't."
"He did," Matt said calmly. "Brought it with him to the initial consultation."
Bucky stared at him. "He what?"
"He told me he doesn't care about the money," Matt said with a soft smile. "He just wants you home. Whatever it takes."
A huge lump in Bucky's throat made it hard to breathe. He supposed it probably shouldn't be this surprising that Steve would throw away that much money for him. He knew, of course he knew, that Steve loved him. He knew that Steve missed him and wanted to take care of him. But somehow, it still surprised him just how far Steve was willing to go to make that happen.
And just knowing the amount Steve had already paid made it clear how strongly he believed that it would happen. That, more than anything else, enabled Bucky to take a deep breath and face the next day. No matter the consequences.
I'll make it up to you, Stevie, he silently promised. When I get home, I'll make every day worth everything you've given up for me. And for now...I'll be brave. For you.
Steve hardly slept at all that night. He just lay in bed, looking at the empty space next to him and wondering if Bucky would be there the next night or not. He kept closing his eyes and trying to imagine that Bucky was there, fast asleep and breathing deeply. But for once, his vivid imagination failed him, and all he could hear was the silence.
He couldn't eat breakfast that morning either, no matter how much Sam pestered him. Steve was all too conscious of Sam's concern and the timid, confused glances Jake kept sending his way, but he just couldn't do it. He felt like his insides had turned into a squirming pile of worms, and he was sure that anything he ate wouldn't stay down.
Finally, it was time to leave. He gave Sam and Jake a rather distracted farewell, straightened his tie for the tenth time, and headed off to the courthouse in the city. As he probably should have expected, a crowd of reporters had camped out on the steps. Once they realized who he was, he was swamped by flashing cameras and microphones shoved in his face. It was all he could do to push through to the door without actually hurting anyone.
Thankfully, cameras weren't allowed inside the building, so he could breathe easier once the door closed behind him. He went through the metal detector, then followed directions to the right room. While he was walking down the hallway, glancing at the numbers posted next to each door, he suddenly heard someone calling his name.
Turning, he saw a man in a suit hurrying up to him. "Mr. Rogers!" the man called, puffing a little as he trotted over, as if he'd run up a flight of stairs to catch him. Brushing a lock of his long blond hair out of his face, the man held out a hand. "Foggy Nelson."
"Oh." Nelson and Murdock. He shook Foggy's hand. "Yes, hello."
"Matt asked me to keep an eye out for you. We're just in here." He ushered Steve through the door to the courtroom he'd been looking for and led him to a table on the left-hand side where Matt sat, running his finger along a page of something written in Braille.
The room was already packed. Steve glanced around, wondering who all these people were. Some were probably reporters, scribbling on notepads. Bucky wasn't anywhere to be seen yet.
Matt turned his head towards them when Foggy drew near, even before Foggy put a hand on his shoulder and murmured something in his ear. Getting to his feet, Matt turned and shook Steve's hand.
"How...How is he?" Steve muttered hoarsely.
"Nervous, of course," Matt said in a low voice. "But he's ready for whatever happens."
Steve nodded and let Foggy show him to a chair reserved for him, in the front row right behind their table. He'd barely sat down, though, when the bailiff called out, "All rise!"
Steve stood with everyone else, watching the judge enter and sit down at the raised desk at the front of the room. She was a tiny woman with tightly-curled black hair, pulling out reading glasses as she settled herself in her chair.
"The District Court of the State of New York is now in session," the bailiff continued, "the Honorable Judge Sonya Alito presiding. Please be seated."
"Good morning," Judge Alito said as everyone sat down again. "Please bring in the defendant."
Steve's heart missed a beat when the door opened and Bucky entered, escorted by two policemen. He was wearing an orange prison uniform, and his one hand was cuffed to a chain around his waist. Bucky's eyes scanned the room and immediately locked onto Steve's.
It was the first time they'd seen each other since that last meeting in London. Bucky looked exhausted, with huge rings under his eyes. He also looked strangely lopsided, now that his metal arm was gone. Steve nodded slightly to Bucky, trying to give him an encouraging smile, but he wasn't sure how successful he was.
Bucky sank into a chair next to Matt, and then all Steve could see of him was his back. He kept his eyes fixed on Bucky as he listened to the attorneys on both sides introduce themselves and go through the preliminary procedures. The entire situation was out of his hands now. All he could do was watch and listen as other people made the decisions.
The prosecutor, a middle-aged man named Kenneth Gates, stood when Judge Alito prompted him. Buttoning the grey jacket of his suit and pulling a sheaf of notes out of a folder, he launched into his argument. "Thank you, Your Honor. We believe the defendant poses both a substantial risk of flight and danger to the community. I'll address the danger issue first as I believe it is more serious and the guiding principle in this case.
"What the defendant is accused of is direct involvement and implementation in the violent May 6th bombing of the Vienna International Centre, while dignitaries of the United Nations sat in conference to ratify the Sokovia Accords. This resulted not only in substantial destruction of private and public property, but the brutal deaths of twelve people, including the sovereign ruler of the small country of Wakanda. The defendant was photographed by CCTV cameras fleeing the scene of the crime shortly after reports came in of an explosion, and was positively identified by Austrian police. This attack took place at 1:15 p.m. local time, and the defendant was next discovered to have taken refuge at the U.S. Embassy in London later that afternoon.
"In addition, Your Honor, he poses a serious risk of flight. The defendant has a largely unknown background and an unusual skill set. From what can be ascertained from state and military records, the defendant has undergone extensive military training, is highly skilled as a sniper, and was a member of one of the elite World War II commando units who specialized, among other things, in the destruction of heavily fortified territories. He has both the knowledge and the expertise to manage what happened in Vienna."
Steve's hands curled into fists. This man was blaming Bucky for being a skilled and effective soldier? Like somehow, fighting to protect the world from Hydra made it more believable that he would turn around and blow up the very people he'd been trying to protect?
Gates continued, speaking calmly as if everything coming out of his mouth was completely rational. "However, all records end after his disappearance in early 1945, having been reported missing in action during a reconnaissance mission. From that time, Your Honor, the defendant has no records in his name. No employment history, no medical records, no bank accounts, no home or apartment ownership, not even an application for a driver's license. Until two years ago, reportedly, the defendant was thought dead until being spotted in a handful of towns along the Appalachian mountains with the now-retired Avengers Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. According to local reports, there is also evidence that he at some point underwent human enhancement experiments and was outfitted with a metal arm, which would help to explain how he has survived this long.
"The defendant has no connection to the community, no recent history to speak of, and so the Government seeks the pre-trial recommendation for detainment."
Gates moved to sit down again, but Judge Alito asked, "Mr. Gates, how far is it between Austria and London?"
Gates hesitated. "In terms of time or distance, Your Honor?"
Judge Alito peered over the top of her reading glasses at him. "The distance, to start with. How far would the distance be between the Vienna International Centre and the London U.S. Embassy?"
Steve watched the bald spot on the back of Gates's head as he bent to check his notes. "1504.1 kilometers, or 934.6 miles, Your Honor."
Judge Alito scribbled a note to herself. "And the average travel time?"
"Approximately 17 hours by car, or 2 hours by plane."
The judge peered over her glasses again. Even from his vantage point, Steve could see the skeptical expression on her face. "I see. Are you suggesting the defendant is capable of traveling over 900 miles in less than two hours without being noticed?"
"Your Honor," Gates said, "I understand it sounds far-fetched, but the defendant is at this time considered to be enhanced by the CIA and the London authorities."
A trace of exasperation entered Judge Alito's voice. "I certainly appreciate the unusual circumstances and abilities of the defendant. Even so, I find it rather extraordinary that the man seated here today can travel a distance of 935 miles in two hours."
"That is currently one of many pieces of this ongoing investigation," Gates said smoothly, "but the Government does have enough circumstantial evidence to support the defendant being in both locations. The defendant is considered to be a flight risk by extraordinary means and a danger to whatever community he infiltrates to evade detection. Considering the gravity of this crime, there is ample reason to withhold the defendant from liberty until trial."
"All right," Judge Alito said. "Mr. Murdock?"
Finally, Gates took his seat and Matt stood instead. Steve forced himself to take a deep breath and open his fists.
"Your Honor," Matt said, not bothering to refer to any of his notes, "let me just pick up with the issue the Court raised and what occurred to me while I was listening to Mr. Gates. Mr. Gates assumes that just because an individual is speculated to be enhanced, they're capable of limitless power. But given what we know from the confirmed capabilities of known enhanced individuals, there are still logical limitations that should not be dismissed out of hand. For instance, it's been confirmed that Captain Rogers, an enhanced individual himself, can run at approximately 120 miles per hour. But even at that great speed, if he made that journey between Vienna to London himself, sprinting the entire way, it would still take 7 hours and 40 minutes to complete it. This is well outside the window of time between the bombing and when the U.S. Embassy confirmed Mr. Barnes had been granted refuge.
"However, there is far stronger circumstantial evidence that Mr. Barnes was precisely where he says he was: getting off a transcontinental flight the morning of May 6th, checking into a hotel, and attending the funeral of an old war friend. There are not only photos and video surveillance at all these locations, but confirmed eye witnesses. After the funeral ended, the defendant returned to his hotel room to take a nap, and woke up to the news running nonstop stories about the bombing. Imagine his shock and surprise to see not only this devastating tragedy, but that he had been accused by the media of being nearly a thousand miles away from where he was. And so, knowing the high risk of authorities issuing a shoot-on-sight order and out of fear for his own life, he immediately turned to the U.S. Embassy for help to turn him over safely."
Steve's heart lifted slightly as he listened to Matt firmly and confidently laying out the truth for all to hear. Ever since the bombing, Steve had heard nothing but lies and outlandish accusations from all sides. He knew what had actually happened, as did Bucky and everyone else who knew him personally. But this was the first time he'd heard the facts described so simply and clearly by someone who hadn't been there. Maybe...just maybe...
"This brings me to the risk of flight," Matt continued. "It is absurd to say that he's a flight risk. He has a grandson currently living in this state who is under the age of five. His grandson's father, Captain Rogers, is in attendance to his hearing today. Mr. Barnes also has another close friend who would be here today as well, were he not already taking care of my client's grandson. He has no relations in a country other than this one, and his citizenship is not in question. I think a probation recommendation is proper given the fact that my client is an honorable service member, has no prior arrests, and no prior contact with the criminal justice system. He is currently in the process of rebuilding his life. Time spent in detainment for a crime he did not commit, away from the support and care of his chosen family, will inhibit the progress he's made over the last two years.
"And again, Your Honor, the Government has yet to tell the Court in any way, shape, or form that there is any reason why Mr. Barnes would have a reason or ability to harm the Vienna Conference Centre. My client's statement is very clear. He states he was in London when the bombing happened. At no point did he leave the area between Heathrow Airport, the hotel, St. Luke's Cathedral, and the embassy during the time in question. His attendance to that morning's funeral is well documented. He had no prior knowledge of such an egregious attack and took every step possible to surrender himself to London authorities under equitable terms.
"I believe the pre-trial service's recommendation is unnecessary given the facts of this case. If the Court were to think the recommendation for liberty is not enough, we are happy to abide by any conditions that the court imposes, including that my client maintain regular check-ins, adhere to house arrest requirements, and not have access to any electronics, including a telephone or cell phone. I have no objection to that. And I have one person who is ready to sign the bond in court. He has been a well-known and respected public figure since the Avengers Initiative was established, to say nothing of his military career and accomplishments before that."
Steve could feel the eyes of everyone in the audience turning towards him, but he kept his gaze fixed on Judge Alito.
"Thank you," she said as Matt sat down, then turned to Gates. "Anything else on behalf of the Government?"
"Just briefly, Your Honor," Gates said. "Though the investigation is ongoing and additional confirmations of evidence are to be made, there is enough circumstantial evidence to keep the defendant as a suspect. The CCTV footage had an initial positive identification, and until such a time as new evidence is found or discoveries made, the defendant fits the profile of the suspect who committed this crime. And because there is that strong incentive, he poses a danger, and that's why we agree with the pre-trial recommendation and ask for detention."
Steve stared at him as he took his seat. How could he still say that, after all of the solid evidence Matt had just laid out for everyone?
Matt stood again. "Your Honor, the Government's complaint says that a CCTV picture that has yet to finish enhancement and secondary identity confirmation is enough to put a suspect behind bars until trial, and that alone is absurd. To say Mr. Barnes is the only person in the world to look like the subject of a grainy photo capture is not only recklessly presumptuous but dangerously inaccurate without the support of additional evidence, which the Government has not mentioned or produced. Under present circumstances, Mr. Barnes is more a convenient scapegoat than he is a verifiable culprit."
Bucky, who had been staring fixedly at the table in front of him for most of this time, sat a little straighter at this.
"Every personal fact behind my client supports release," Matt said. "I must reiterate there is no prior criminal record, there's not a bench warrant history, he has family in the area... There's absolutely nothing to indicate that he would take any wrong steps here beyond hearsay and speculation. As he said in his statement, he was not there, and circumstantial evidence points to Mr. Barnes being in London far more than it does Vienna. Detention is not necessary here. What would be appropriate is stringent circumstances and safeguards issued with release, and that should more than suffice given the facts of this case."
"Anything further, Mr. Gates?" the judge asked.
Gates nodded. "Simply that we do believe that the Government can show by preponderance of the evidence that the defendant poses a danger to the community by going out and committing similar violent crimes should he be released on bail."
When both of them sat down and the judge paused for a moment, shuffling through her notes, Steve realized that this was it. The final decision was up to her. His breath caught in his chest, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.
Finally, Judge Alito cleared her throat and looked up to address the room. She spoke swiftly and dispassionately, as though this were just another case. "In this case, the accused has no prior criminal history and is not under the supervision of a parole or probation entity. However, given that his ties to the community are substantially new, there is no record of recent employment, an unconfirmed background, and circumstantial evidence of involvement in this particular case all weigh heavily against the request for liberty.
"The evidence against him is tempered by the statements he gave when under the care of the embassy, although there is evidence proffered and outlined in the complaint that demonstrates the investigation is ongoing. I am cognizant of the need to keep the public's faith in our justice system, and with the grave facts of this terrorist attack that cost the lives of twelve people, it must be reiterated that crimes such as this will not go unpunished.
"Given all of the information that has been presented to me in support of and against the application that the accused be held without bail, the Court has to find that there is clear and convincing evidence that the defendant would present a danger to the community. I do think that clear and convincing evidence has been presented to me, so I find that he should be detained under the theory of danger.
"With respect to flight, I am also persuaded that the quantum of information that's been presented to me permits a conclusion that the defendant could not be at liberty under conditions that would ensure that he be in court whenever he is directed to do so or under safe conditions. So I'm going to approve the application that the defendant be detained without bail. The defendant will be remanded in custody until trial."
She kept talking, discussing the schedule with the attorneys, but Steve's ears were buzzing so loudly he couldn't hear. He felt as though someone had just punched him in the stomach.
Bucky had been denied bail altogether. Just like that. It didn't matter how much money Steve threw at the problem. He couldn't keep them from sending Bucky back to Rikers.
Bucky wasn't coming home.
As the proceedings began to wrap up, Bucky looked over his shoulder at Steve. His face was pale, his eyes full of fear. This time, Steve couldn't even try to smile.
All too soon, it was over. The policemen took Bucky with them, Bucky craned his neck around for one last look at Steve, and then he was gone. Steve tried not to wonder when he'd see him again.
The one who states his case first seems right,
until the other comes and examines him.
- Proverbs 18:17
Author's Note: I want to give a special shout-out to my beta NewMoonFlicker, who helped me immensely with writing this chapter. Neither of us are lawyers, so I'm sure we got a ton of this wrong, but we did our best!