Arrival at Sharon’s
After a short drive they arrived at their destination. Sharon led them through the lavish building, taking a moment at the gallery to correct Sam on his knowledge of classic paintings. Bucky might have found his reaction funny if he wasn't in such a rush to get changed. "Hey Barnes, you can take that freaky muzzle off now," Sharon told him. It should have been a relief but although he hated to admit it, the mask was almost a comfort to him. He removed it anyway and purposely tossed it down on a table beside the chair Zemo was sitting in. After some conversation about the “new Captain America” and national pardons, Sharon informed the trio that she'd be downstairs preparing for some sort of party and that they could join after they'd changed. Bucky grabbed the first set of dark clothes that looked his size off the rack of clothes Sharon provided and walked out of eyesight down a hallway and into the room Sharon had directed him to. He felt Zemo's eyes follow him but didn't comment on it.
Bucky shut the door behind him as soon as he got through it, grateful for a moment alone. He tore the glove off his flesh hand and threw it to the floor before rubbing his face, almost like trying to wipe the soldier away. He reached to begin tearing off the harnesses too before he remembered. He couldn't get out of it himself. He sat hunched on the bed, clutching his hands together, trying to figure out what was worse. Should he grab Zemo to get him out and further fuel the man's twisted ego, or should he ask Sam and pray he doesn't question it? Thinking about either option made him nauseous. The decision was soon made for him when he heard shuffling down the hall and the door quietly open. He didn't raise his head from where his gaze was set on the ground. He didn't need to even see the shoes to know who it was. Sam would have knocked. "I told you before," Zemo started with a finger beneath Bucky's chin. "Head up, Soldat". Bucky cast his eyes up, mastering all the venom he could into his glare. He wanted to scream. He wanted to yell at Zemo. He wanted to throw Zemo out the damn window but he couldn't. Because Sam knowing was worse. Zemo was standing over him so close that he could see every little wrinkle on his face. The lines his sickening smirk created. He slapped the hand away from his face and stood up, towering over Zemo this time.
"Just get me out of this then get out of my sight." Bucky ordered, remaining as quiet as he could. Zemo's brows raised and he replied.
"No I don't think I will. Not with that tone." Bucky gripped his arm tightly.
"I said get me out of this goddamn suit." Zemo didn't look threatened as much as he did impatiently.
"Yes well, until you change that tone, I won't be helping." The smirk arrived back on his face. "Although I'm sure Sam will be happy to help." He said, turning towards the door. Bucky yanked him back. He opened his mouth to try and rebuttal but he came up empty. He couldn't risk Sam knowing. His opinion of Bucky had probably already been diminished from the rest of the night. He couldn't risk completely tarnishing Sam's perception of him. The desperation drowned out his anger and his shoulders slumped in surrender as his eyes fell away from Zemo's.
"Please," He forced out.
"Hmm?" He knew Zemo was playing with him but he didn't have another option. Bucky's face showed nothing but defeat as he caught Zemo's gaze again.
"Please help me take the suit off." Zemo stayed waiting expectantly. "Sir." Any dignity he had left had been shed with that last word. Even without Hydra's command words Zemo had found a way to control him.
“Very well, Soldat." Bucky simply let Zemo turn him around by his shoulders to begin unfastening the clasps and buckles of the harnesses. He felt Zemo's breath on his neck as his mind drifted. Not to any thought, but as a raft would drift in a vast, empty ocean. The numb, staticky sort of feeling was back. Anywhere the suit touched his skin buzzed. The skin around the socket where his arm attached felt so cold it burned. He distantly felt hands on his shoulders again, turning him back around. His eyes were set on Zemo but it felt like he was looking through him. Zemo grabbed his face again like he did at Selby's. It was worse. The mask and Zemo's gloves were gone so there was no barrier. Just burning heat on his skin and blue eyes looking into brown. "I'm glad to see that the Winter Soldier has not forgotten his place." Zemo stroked his face once before exiting the room and leaving Bucky to stand there on his own.
It took Bucky a moment but soon he was removing the rest of the suit, laying it on the bed as he went. He wanted it out of his sight. He gathered the garments and harnesses in his arms and shoved them in a cupboard underneath the sink in the joined bathroom. Returning to the room, he pulled on the shirt and pants Sharon had given him, leaving the blazer off. There was no way he could act normally around Sam for ten minutes, much less a couple hours with a party going on. Bucky really didn't want to deal with Sam's little therapy thing where he'd try to get him to say what he was feeling and shit. He just needed a couple hours alone to sort himself out, then he could manage whatever the mission, and Sam, required of him. Bucky walked to the mirror to observe himself. He hardly recognized himself. Originally, he had thought the haircut would help. Now it just reminded him of the apartment he and Steve shared before the war. The haircuts they'd give each other because neither had the money to go to a proper barber. It just reminded him of the man he was. The man he realized he could no longer be. He forced his expression into something that looked tired and nonchalant. Something that he hoped Sam wouldn't find suspicious, and walked out the door and down the hall.
He rounded the corner to see Zemo and Sam waiting for him on the chairs. Sam had changed into a turtleneck, jacket, and some slacks while Zemo had only ditched his obnoxious coat. Sam's eyes landed on Bucky's face first, then worked his way down his arms, counting bruises with a worried expression as he went. He was grateful he couldn't see the worse bruises on his chest and ribs from Selby's heeled boots. He did his best to calm Sam's concern. "I'm fine Sam." Sam gave him a look. "Look they'll heal in a couple hours alright?" It seemed like Sam was mostly concerned with the physical effects of the mission right now so he might be able to get out of the party without too many questions. Bucky put on an exasperated tone and explained to Sam, "I'm more tired than anything. The mission really took it out of me and healing is just using up the energy I have left." He could see a smirk out of his eye from Zemo. The man was clearly taking joy in Bucky's act. Sam looked less annoyed now that Bucky wasn't completely brushing off his pain but his concern didn't disappear.
"Fine. Just-you don't have to play it off as nothing. Shit clearly hurts and as a team I need to know where you're at."
"Yeah... yeah I get it. Look, I'm gonna rest up a bit while I have the chance. Just get me if Sharon gets any info." Bucky took a step back towards the bedroom.
"You sure you're good here alone?"
"Positive. Just make sure he," Bucky nodded to Zemo, "doesn't get into trouble." He turned and walked back to the room.
Behind him he heard Zemo sarcastically mutter, "Trouble?"