District 13
Bucky was walking back from the Hob, having purchased another bag of rice as his family had been running low. He dropped it off and waved goodbye. He wanted to get back home and watch the metering coverage of the games. The last thing he’d seen was Steve waking up from passing out after the avalanche debacle. The capitol had cut screens for hours after that, trying to fend off whoever was causing the screens to glitch and cut into their screen time.
He walked into the house and set his bag down, taking off his shoes and walking softly towards the projector room.
He hadn’t made it to the hallway when a creak caught his ear. He turned, finding a capitol guard behind him. Staring him down.
Another creak. And another.
His adrenaline began to pump, crashing his system as his stood there, glaring them down.
“James Barnes. You have been summoned by President Schmidt to the capitol.”
“Go. To. Hell.”
“You can come willingly, or we can force you.”
He listened. Judging by the sounds, there were at least 4 guards. Not great odds. He lunged back, knocking over a table and sprinting towards the kitchen.
A hand grabbed him but he shoved it off, sprinting faster than he ever had before. He slid towards the back door, slamming outside and taking off behind Phillips’ house and back towards the district.
Then his mind reeled. What if they followed him to the district and hurt people? He could hear them racing after him and he veered left, leading them into the forests he and Steve used to explore as kids.
A crack in the air and a bone blinding pain erupted on the back of his left arm.
He kept running, but felt dizzy and knew he was slowing down. They caught up not much longer, and he fought as hard as he could, punching and kicking and even biting if they made the mistake of getting too close. But the rifle butt to his temple was the last flash of pain before the world went dark.
—————-
He woke groggy and sore.
His eyes opened and he was in a room. Bare and empty except for the bed he was lying on and the door in the far wall. He went to sit up, and his body shifted to the side, uneven.
His hazed mind looked down and stared in shock.
Unable to process what it was seeing.
The lack of a left arm.
————-
He had no concept of time, and therefore began to try to mark the hours by what he could hear outside his room. Which wasn’t much.
Until the screaming started.
———-
He hated the man. The little man with the round glasses whose name he should know and he knew he knew it before.
He knew the voice of the girl in the room beside his.
He didn’t know her name.
But he knew he knew it before.
Now he just intimately knew the sound of her screams.
The man on the other side of him only shouted and cursed. Never screamed.
He wondered why.
“Time for your treatment.” The little man with the round glasses said. “Come along.”
He knew he shouldn’t go.
But his body and mind moved of their own accord.
————
In District 13
Steve practically glowered at President Brandt. “I’m going.”
“And what happens if you die? Huh?” The man asked, with a raised eyebrow. “Then our whole plan goes down the drain. You’re staying.”
“I’m their best chance of rescue—“
“Didn’t realize your ego got inflated with your body.” Brandt’s assistant, Obadiah Stane, cut in with snark in his tone.
Steve glared at him and felt his hands crushing the wooden table top beneath his fingers. He pulled his hand up and smoothed down the front of his green jumpsuit. “I’m not having an ego. This is my family. I want to be there. You’re choosing me to be the face of this rebellion because of the serum, so let me use it!”
“Sorry, Cap.” President Brandt said flatly, eyes on paperwork before him. “You’re grounded here at 13. Dugan will lead the retrieval team.”
“No—“ Steve started, but Stane looked at him viciously.
“President Brandt, are we going to have this disrespectful boy really lead our districts? He can’t even follow your orders.”
Steve growled but President Brandt looked up with a raised eyebrow. “I took in your entire district. We’re feeding them and housing them and protecting them from the capitol when we could have let them die in the bombing.”
Steve felt his blood boil, but. He didn’t rise to the bait. There were a million different aspects he could throw into Brandt’s face that would shut them both up. But he’d promised Phillips he would attempt to be civil.
Even if he knew he could tear these two to shreds.
“Then I want to be in the command room.” He said sharply, “I want to be in on comms and visuals.”
Stane glared at him but Brandt stood up and gave him a smile, “works for me.”
He nodded and left, perhaps letting the door slam a bit harder than he should have on the way out.
————-
They only knew that Bucky was alive because the capitol had broadcasted it. Stating that they had District 12 inside informant on the “rebel’s so-called-leader” (Steve) and that they should be on the lookout as their informant would be divulging important information soon.
Steve had accidentally cracked a chair in half after that broadcast. He’d received a stern talking to about waste from a 13 official.
Phillips’ wife had found him one of the first days he’d been out and about. She’d placed something small in his hand, curling his fingers over it, and smiled at him, walking away.
When he’d looked, he had felt his lungs tighten at the sight of Bucky’s compass in his hand. He had no idea how she’d found it or gotten ahold of it, but he didn’t question the gift. Just put it in his pocket. Waiting to be given back to its rightful owner.
———-
He stalked back to his quarters and sat down hard at his desk. A quiet knock had his head coming up and he sighed.
“Come in, Olive.”
She opened the door and he was unsurprised to find Rebecca trailing behind her. After they’d been introduced, they’d become inseparable. Both having experienced some form of a lost sibling.
Bucky.
He clenched his fists and stood, “they won’t let me go. I’m sorry.”
They walked forward and wrapped him in their arms, “it’s alright Steve.”
“It’s not.” He growled, “I should be going. I should be the one to bring him back.”
They didn’t respond, knowing he wasn’t arguing at them.
“Becca, how are the others?”
She looked up at him, “they’re fine. Doing as well as they can. They assigned ma to the nursing ward and dad to the engineering side. So they both have jobs and are pretty happy about it.”
“Your sisters?”
“The care center takes good care of them. You know. Kids.”
Steve nodded. That was one of the things he had wanted to throw into Brandt and Stane’s face.
District 13 may have been surviving, but it hadn’t been thriving. The injection of almost 700 new citizens had been a huge boon to their gene pool. Not to mention District 12 had now brought in almost 150 children, providing new life and opportunities for the future. He’d already seen a woman from District 12 being courted by a man from District 13. It was a strange sensation to know they were in a new home.
District 13 had been in hiding for the last 75 years. Not goading the capitol into action, but silently working to ensure their survival and curate a possible change in regime.
Steve had sat and listened to them drone for hours about 13 and their history. And he tried not to be annoyed that they’d hidden for the better part of a century while the other districts had suffered.
They were helping now. Had helped them survive the arena. He could live with that. He had to.
Another thing District 12 had provided was workers. They were all assigned a purpose and worked to earn their “keep”.
Except Steve.
He was being dressed in ridiculous costumes and put in front of a camera to film propaganda videos that Stark was releasing at random out to the districts and even to the capitol when they got lucky enough.
He let the girls lead him to the mess hall where the district was gathering for supper.
————-
Ice trickled down his spine as a voice spoke over the screens.
“He’s being used.” Bucky said calmly, “He didn’t know their plan.”
“What makes you say that?” Hayweather asked.
Steve turned, neck cracking at the fast motion as Bucky, looking whole except a stump where his arm was, sat in a plush chair, dressed in capitol garb.
But… as Bucky spoke, words Steve couldn’t even process. Steve watched his friend’s eyes. Something was wrong.
“Of course in 12, the footage was sporadic. But we all saw the surprise on Steve’s face when he emerged from the tube. He’s a pawn.”
He could hear people bristling at Bucky’s words, and he felt lost. Why was Bucky saying that? He tried to study his friend’s face, searching for duress, but all he found was an eerie calm.
“Well, maybe he’s listening in, what would you want to say to him?”
“Steve, you’re being used. Can’t you see that? Don’t be foolish. You’ve already been the puppet on Erskine’s string. Don’t let it happen again. Come back to the Capitol and pledge to Schmidt. Then all will be forgiven.”
His teeth were cracking hard against each other, as annoyed faces stared at the screen.
“Traitor.” He heard someone mutter.
He stood up, glaring at the person who spoke. “Shut up.”
The native to 13 looked at him and frowned, “you heard him. Go be Schmidt’s lap dog, then.”
Steve didn’t even blink, shoving the heavy table to the side and striding forward, about to haul the young guy out of his chair and give him a piece of his mind.
The guy’s eyes went wide as saucers as Steve approached and it made him pause. He wasn’t 5’4 and 90lbs anymore. He was a monster. He couldn’t just fight. He had to use caution or he’d end up killing someone accidentally.
So he took a deep breath and pointed at him, “my friend has been captured by the capitol. You’ve seen the games. Do you know what they could be doing to him to make him say that? The torture? I’d like to see you do better.”
The man quaked in front of him and he glared at him until the guy picked up his tray and ran. He huffed and turned back around to find Dugan and Howard looking at him with smirks on their faces.
“Man, I bet Howard’s portion of bread that you’d belt that guy.”
Howard laughed as Steve frowned. “I’m not just beating random people up because they annoy me.”
Howard nodded, “good to know. I heard about the meeting.”
Steve groaned as he pulled the table back into place. “I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about that.” He pointed to the screen where the image was now gone. “Why are they showing us that? Why would the capitol show me he’s okay?”
The two men frowned at him as Olive and Rebecca took their seats. Rebecca looked pale and drawn and Steve placed his hand over hers. “Don’t you worry. We’re going to get him back.”
She just nodded and pushed at the canned peas on her plate.
“Not to burst your bubble, Cap.” Dugan said calmly, “but we have no idea when that video was taken. Could have been right after they stole him from 12. That would be almost a month ago.”
He didn’t like that thought.
———
The capitol pushed more videos through the next few days. Each one was worse than the last. Halfway through, Bucky gained an arm. They couldn’t see it, as it was covered by whatever clothes and gloves they forced him into, but they barely registered that when listening to Bucky saying vile things about Steve, about District 12, about the rebels and the trouble they were causing. How the capitol was doing everything in its power to keep people safe and happy, while the rebels just wanted to burn everything down to the ground.
But the worst part was how dead his eyes looked. Gaunt and pale and like he barely recognized who he was in the room with. He just spoke the words, but his eyes stayed flat.
Steve hated it. And he hated the way District 13’s citizens started to grumble about Bucky.
“Why are we spending time and money to rescue that traitor?” He heard someone mutter as he passed a control room.
He took a deep steadying breath.
Thankfully, all of District 12 stood behind Steve in his belief that something had happened to Bucky, or that he was being forced. Whether they had known Bucky personally, or they believed Steve, they stood behind him as he fought for the rescue mission to happen sooner rather than later.
————
“CUT!” The director sighed, “you’re saying it wrong!”
Steve frowned, his hand resting with the shield attached against his thigh. “what?”
“It’s ‘Liberty and justice for the districts’.”
“That’s what I said.”
“No.” The director huffed, and Steve felt his patience ebbing, “You said ‘Liberty and justice for all.”
His blood boiled, “That’s the same thing.”
“No.” The director said. “You need to say ‘for the districts’.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed, “what about the capitol citizens?” A deadly silence crept through the stage set. His rage started to burn brighter, “what? You’re going to imprison all of them? What, make them your slaves? How would that make us better than them?”
“They’ve lived in luxury all their lives—“ Someone started to say to his left that he couldn’t see because of the bright lights.
“So now they deserve what?” He asked sharply. When no one responded he growled, “someone tell me what the plan is for capitol citizens. The ones who are innocent.”
“None of them are innocent!” Someone hissed at him.
His mind flashed to Tatiana, the few people he’d talked with at the party who, while foolish in their childish enjoyment of the games, were truthfully ignorant. When you grow up in ignorance, it’s incredibly difficult to break that cycle. Especially if no one was trying.
“So are we going to what… have a mass grave? Burn them all?” He asked, his voice stone cold.
“They’ll stand trial.”
“For what crimes?!” He snarled, “watching the games and doing nothing about it? If so, then you can add all our names to that list! And every other district as well.” He seethed, “there are plenty of people who need to pay for what they’ve done. I understand that. But not everyone in the capitol deserves death or imprisonment.”
“Whose side are you even on?” Someone snapped his direction.
As his head turned slowly to face the camera, who he knew was still recording. He straightened his shoulders and spoke firmly, making sure every ounce of his willpower and belief in doing what was right was behind his next words. “Liberty and Justice. For. All.”
—————