Imprint

Bucky lays his head back on the plush cushioned couch at the back of Zemo’s jet. It's a good idea to get a little shut eye before they land in Riga. He shifts around, trying to get comfortable. Aaany minute now. Yup. Sleep would be great. The leather seat creaks as he shifts again. A single eyelid cracks open, gaze pulled longingly towards the hard isle floor.

“I had the same problem.” Sam murmurs softly from his seat behind Bucky.”Too comfortable, right?”

‘Too comfortable’ didn’t even begin to describe it, and not just the couch. Bucky’s gaze flicks to Zemo. The man lay on his back across from him, head turned slightly to nuzzle into the soft cushions, eyes closed and breathing deep and even. No restless dreams for Zemo. The Baron sleeps like a baby. His metal arm clenchs tight as he tries particularly hard not to think about how comfortable things had become around Zemo. The man shoots Nagel mid interrogation and not an hour later he’s serving them tea and biscuits like he’s Suzie fucking homemaker. Not to mention what happened in the bar…Bucky squashes down a surge of anger and cuts that train of thought off.

 “Drop it Sam.” He grouses quietly.

He could hear Sam shift in his seat, could feel his scrutinizing stare on the back of his neck.

“I know I asked before but… you sure you’re ok? You look pale. “

The metal arm barely makes a noise as he slowly unclenches and relaxes. “Yeah. Just…” He breaths, reaching for an excuse to deflect Sam’s attention. “We got doused in some’a those chemicals when the RPG hit. It really stinks.” It’s not untrue either. Sweat, gunpowder, ash, and a sharp chemical scent clings to all of them.

“That how you got your name, “White Wolf?”” Bucky doesn’t need to see his companion’s face to know he’s grinning. “Did they use you to sniff out their little lost sheep?”

“Goats, actually.”

He finally twists around to look at Sam, eager to catch his expression. Eyes narrow with suspicion, lip slightly curled in incredulity, head tilted to the side curiously. Bucky smiles. Priceless.

“You’re messing with me.”

Turning his face away, he burrows back down into the sofa and closes his eyes. “Go to sleep Sam.”

“…I call first dibs on shower. “

In the quiet of the jet cabin Bucky listens as Sam’s breath reaches a slow and steady rhythm. He knows sleep won’t come to him tonight. It’s a pointless effort, but he’ll be damned if he isn’t a sucker for a lost cause.

Bucky jerks awake, metal arm cocked back and the sound of screams still bouncing around his skull. He blinks, eyes dartingly around wildly and processing his surroundings through a fuzzy mind. Small Jet cabin. Morning sunlight slanting through the windows. Soft seats. Zemo across from him, hands raised non-threateningly, face placid. No visible weapons. Possible hidden weapons in the coat. There’re noises. His lips are moving, speaking softly. Bucky finally starts unscrambling the noise and translating them into words.

“-afe here, Soldat. Are you awake? Nod if you understand. “

Bucky presses his hand to his brow and wipes the sweat from his face as he slowly uncoils. He nods and the Baron lowers his hands. It’s a monumental effort not to raise his fist again when the Baron smiles and murmurs a chipper “Good morning, James.”. He must be mocking Bucky. He has to be.

He settles for leveling his best glower at Zemo. Unfortunately he was the one person in the world totally immune to Bucky's death glares.

The sharp rap of a pair of coffee cups slamming on the table next to them breaks their staring contest. Sam shakes his head and glares at the both of them. “It’s too damn early and I haven’t had nearly enough coffee to put up with you two yet, so you-“ Bucky slaps away the finger Sam points in his direction, only causing Sam’s bitch face to ratchet up a notch “-Are going to stop staring and you-” The Baron at least takes his reprimand with grace. “-I heard what you called him. That name’s not gunna fly anymore. The act’s over. Drop it. “

“A fair point. “ He acknowledges. Bucky’s jaw ticks as the Baron even looked chastised. ”My apologies, James. My intent was only to draw you out of your nightmare. I see now that it was more cruel than kind.”

“Wasn’t a nightmare. “ He denies automatically.

“Yeah, right.” Sam gripes, rolling his eyes.

Bucky grabs his coffee and lurches to his feet, heading towards the front of the jet.  “I’m gunna go check on…” He takes a swallow of coffee as he tries to recall the old man’s name. “Oeznic! Yeah. He probably needs one of these too.”

He definitely isn’t running away.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur for Bucky. Despite being fully awake and downing two cups of coffee the fuzzy feeling in his head never dissipates. He nods along as the Baron and Sam discuss their next move: resupplying at a safe house and getting in touch with Zemo’s black market contacts at the refugee camp. A faint sheen of sweat clings to his brow as he meanders behind the pair on their walk through the streets of Riga, straining to keep his surrounding in focus as Zemo droned on about the fate of Sokovia..

“We’re here.”

“I’mgunnagoonawalk.”

Shit. He said that a little too fast. And a little too desperately. Bucky studiously ignores Sam’s raised brow and Zemo’s furrowed brow.

“You good?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.” He replied, stepping back. “Just…I’m guna go get some air.“

He sighs with relief the moment he's away. He pries a little silver ball from crumbling mason work of a nearby building. Tossing the little ball in his hand, he follows the trail towards an alley, glad that Sam wasn’t here to crack jokes about dog whistles.

Checking once more to ensure he isn’t followed, Bucky slips into the alleyway and calls out. “You dropped something. “

Ayo steps out behind Bucky, blocking his exit, fists clenched and tense with anger. “I’m here for Zemo.”

“I need him. Just for a little while.” He put his hands in his pockets, trying to keep Ayo at ease. T’challa always had an aura about him. Not an unshakable calm, but collected. His anger never ruled him. His royal guards, not so much. Their displeasure is often on the surface and they weren’t afraid to voice it. Or get stabby with their spears.

“You may be quick to forgive him, but we still have not! He must pay!”

“Whoa! Whoa!” Bucky put his hands up to stop her. “I haven’t forgiven anything. This is business and that’s all. When my mission’s done I’ll hand him over to you.

The admission of his intentions to hand over Zemo and the fact that no love was lost between them softened the edge of Ayo’s harsh glare, but she remains firmly rooted in the exit of the ally. “I care little for the business of America. I am here for Wakanda. I will return with Zemo today. “

Bucky rubs a hand over his mouth, pacing while wracking his brain for anything that would get Ayo off the Baron’s back. His eyes widen as a thought strikes him. “You don’t have the purple flower anymore.”

Ayo rears back as if struck, completely caught off guard. She surges forward, crowding Bucky against the wall as she snarls “How do you know about that!?”

“Shuri likes to ramble when she works. Doesn’t matter.” He waves his hand dismissively. Yes, Shrui did love to ramble, and multitask. He couldn’t count the number of times she’d left dozens of files open in plain sight as she worked on deprogramming him. A twist of guilt knots his guts. He knew wasn’t supposed to see those files, but it’s not like he could forget and he’ll use anything he can right now. He's already done so many questionable things to get this far. What was one more? “You need a new source for your next king’s powers. We can get you that. There’re twelve vials of Super Soldier Serum here in Riga with no known side effects and I need Zemo to track them down.”

Ayo stares him down. A fruitless endeavor, he is the king of staring contests. Eventually she steps aside with a sour grimace. “I must contact my king about this… he will remain free. For now. Do not go far. “

Bucky pauses next to Ayo at the mouth of the alley. “Anything else?”

The stoic guard façade cracks for a moment as a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “It is good to see you again, Wolf. “ A smile that quickly fell. “Are you well? I saw the video of Madripoor.”

Ice trickles down Bucky’s spine. He knew. A part of him knew, keenly aware of everything during the fight, that there had been cellphones pointed at him in the bar. It was just another thing he’d been avoiding thinking about. Lying to Sam was just second nature at this point. Lying to Ayo was a little harder. “… I will be. “

He stuffs his hands back in his pockets and sets off down the street. He takes a meandering rout to throw off any spies, but it still felt like no time had passed before he's stood in front of the safe house again. He pushes through the doorway and into the large open lounge. There's no sign of the other two, but he can hear the sound of a shower running. A hallway off the back of the kitchen led Bucky to a choice of four doors. He pushs open the first door on his left that was slightly ajar. Sam glances up at him from a set of drawers he’d been rummaging through. “Had a nice walk?”

“Yeah. Had to stretch my legs. “ Bucky replies absently as he scopes out the room. It's small and bare, sporting only a twin bed, a chest of drawers, and an empty nightstand. The place is in good shape, if a little dated. Not that Bucky minded. It kind of reminds him of home, actually, with his little armchair, lamp, and TV and absolutely nothing else.

“I thought you were getting some air.” Sam questions suspiciously.

“I can walk and breathe at the same time.” Bucky’s reply comes out a little more tired and defensively than intended. He presses his thumb and fore finger against his eyes, using the pain from the pressure to ground himself against the fuzzy cotton headed feeling that refuses to go away. He just wants to curl up on the floor and sleep it off.

“The Master of Multitasking. “ Sam retorts flatly. He gives Bucky a hard look, quietly debating to himself. “…Bathroom’s the last door on the right. The other two rooms are a lounge and another bedroom. One of us will have to sleep on the ground.”

 “Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’ll take the floor. “He waves Sam off.

Bucky's too tired to express any kind of gratitude towards Sam’s merciful excuse to let him sleep on the floor. He snatches the top sheet off the mattress, ignoring Sam’s indignant shout, and throws himself on the hard wood floor between the bed and the wall.