Chapter 8
Also, check out my Spotify Playlist I put together for this fic.
(Keep in mind the chapters, though. The tracks are kind of like a soundtrack.)
Steve and the others stomped through the darkness, keeping away from the Autobahn and sticking to the line of shrubs next to it. Of course, they were exposed, but Augsburg was just a little over 10 kilometers away. Luckily, Sam was fine and able to walk, so they didn’t have to carry him.
But while they were not talking, paranoia grew with every car that passed, every car that could’ve been CIA or Hydra. Two cars had stopped already in emergency bays, offering a ride, but the four of them had just stayed away, not given in to the temptation. Maybe people were nicer here, Steve thought for a moment, but realized how much damage he’d left behind in Berlin and decided that every offer they denied meant a little more safety for himself. Hydra could come in any size and shape and a fight would crash them right now.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one exhausted. Nat started to limp, maybe the car crash had done more damage than they’d thought. Bucky supported her, an arm wrapped around her waist, but this was no solution. And this was all that stood between the world’s safety and a resurrected Zola. They’d need one hell of a plan.
So, when the next car stopped to offer a ride, Steve wasn’t that fast in declining the opportunity. Had there been a radio note about them yet? Would the CIA put an official warrant into public media? This was a gamble and Steve had no idea about the odds. His heart was beating fast when he stepped towards the car, watching the passenger’s window open. They would’ve shot us already if they were CIA, right? But no shots were fired. A young man stuck his head out with a curious smile. Steve thanked T’Challa for his stealth uniform that was in dark blue. Nothing like the stars and stripes, fewer chances of being recognized.
But as soon as they’d all climbed in, there was no chance of not being recognized anymore anyways. Nevertheless, the man didn’t mention it, just nodded and started driving after asking where they were headed. All Steve discerned in that stranger’s face was genuine concern.
“Augsburg“, was the simple answer that the driver was not satisfied with.
“Wohin nach Augsburg? Die Stadt ist nicht gerade klein.“ (Where to in Augsburg? The city isn’t exactly small.)
Natasha, in the front seat, replied in German, and Steve let her handle this. In secret, he wondered, however, if this was the guy she’d talked to on the phone. If he and Bucky and Sam were being delivered now. If this was some kind of trick.
“What are you doing, exactly?“, Bucky furrowed his brows when he’d finally found a halfway comfortable position. Steve was surprised he’d found a comfortable position at all, being squished between Sam and him. Bucky mustered him.
“Saving time, saving strength. Look at Sam and Nat - they need to rest.“
Bucky grunted.
“We all need to rest.“ He mustered the man, who was checking the rearview mirror, smiling kindly. Bucky wondered if the blonde driver or if maybe there was the possibility that he actually hadn’t recog-
“Thank you for what you did in Stuttgart. And New York, I guess. Never been there, but well. Thank you.“ Yeah no, Bucky hadn’t thought so.
The man’s words had been directed at Steve and Natasha and surprised them both equally. Stuttgart. That had been a long time ago. The beginning. Their first mission together.
“Yeah, I - uh. Thanks“, Steve whispered. This was strange. The man wasn’t an annoyed politician, or a pissed off Senator, throwing complaints and whiny profanities at him, just a civilian expressing his gratefulness, but Steve wasn’t sure how to deal with that.
“But, uh, why? Why do you care for New York and-“
“Many of our soldiers here in Augsburg come from New York.“
“Are you part of the stationed US forces?“, Sam asked, because the man’s English sounded American, but one could definitely hear a hunch of German thrown in there. It wasn’t like Zola’s or Zemo’s German, though. It sounded nice.
“No. Does it matter?“
“Why are you thanking me then?“
The man eyed him through the rearview mirror, probably astounded by this version of Captain America sitting in his car. Not the wonderful war- hero anymore, huh? Great. Just another one to add to the long line of disappointed citizens. Bet he wants to take his thank you back.
“Because I see no one else doing it.“
Steve swallowed. When had been the last time that someone noticed that he needed something, even if it was just a word? Peggy? No, Natasha, on the way to Belgium. Maybe family wasn’t that far after all. Bucky patted him on the shoulder.
“Hey“, the man said, looking at the brunette, “sorry for what happened to you. Good thing you’re back.“
“Thanks. It’s appreciated.“
“Okay, we’re getting closer to the city. Are you visiting someone? Maybe some old fella in the barracks? I can drop you off there if you’d like that.“
Steve hesitated but answered after a second, throat thick and voice clouded.
“A friend of mine was from here. The barracks are fine, thank you.“
A few streets were closed, which led the driver to just drop the superheroes off in the center of the city. They thanked him and stood in the darkness, unsure whether to just head into one direction or maybe try to figure out a strategy first. Who knew if Hydra was awaiting them, who knew how many mercenaries they had positioned throughout the city.
Of course, they had been supplied with directions, but to be honest, even with the yellow street lights, all streets pretty much looked the same. Asking pedestrians wasn’t really an option - no one was out at all, thanks to the rain and the storminess of this night.
Nat looked pretty grateful for the jacket she’d grabbed in Cologne and Steve pulled the hood of his, no, Clint’s hoodie, up to cover his ears. It was easier to listen to the others with some protection from the wind. Bucky stood stiffly in his tactical gear, looking all Winter Soldier with his hair hanging down in wet strands. Sam, next to him, wore a jacket, but he just looked tired and completely done. At least his arm had stopped bleeding. Steve cursed. He shouldn’t have taken Sam on the mission, should’ve left him in Wakanda. As the leader, he was supposed to be responsible for them and now? He had no idea and no plan and every single one of them felt miserable. Except for Nat, maybe, who looked like she was intrigued by their upcoming invasion of military property during heavy rainfall. Steve furrowed his brows. Or was it something else she had in mind? There was no chance of reading her. At least nothing had happened in the car.
They decided to start marching towards the big church placed on the wide plaza. This was a tourist attraction, so maybe they’d find a city map there.
Just then, something moved in the corner of Steve’s eye. He looked back, seeing only an empty street, but Bucky pointed to a roof. Someone was running up there and he followed right away.
“Come on! We gotta catch this one“, he shouted and ran down a street.
“Hold on! What if it’s a trap?“, Sam answered while ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs.
“Of course it’s a trap. The question is who we’ll find. That’s why you brought your gun.“
“Oh great. I remember now why I hated this guy.“
They ran, through three streets and four lanes until even Steve was breathing heavier than usual and Bucky, who had climbed up to pursue that Hydra agent, came back, signaling that he’d lost the guy.
Looking a little hazy through the thick rain, another remnant of the past appeared in front of
Steve, Bucky, Natasha and Sam. The former US army barracks. Several windows showed light, but those were the minority. Most people were asleep. Good. If Natasha was right about this building, that the US Forces had been released after decades of service and now, the old barracks built of red bricks were mostly inhabited by young civilians accepting the process of gentrification Augsburg went through. Some of the bigger barracks also provided office spaces to local businesses, but this was not an industrial area, therefore Steve hoped that his friends and he would stay unnoticed.
However, Hydra was here, a fact proved by the lookout’s placed on the roofs in this area, so chances of a silent battle were low.
They walked closer to their destination, a house at the side of the street. A brewery inhabited the lower part of the building, but its gates were closed and several delivery vans parked in the street, blocking some of the sight on the main entrance. It was a strategic precaution, no question, it would provide Hydra’s agents with cover from gunfire and options for a surprise attack as soon as unwelcome visitors entered the street. But so far, everything was quiet.
Steve’s eyes wandered around, analyzing the environment for their mission. Then, he looked at his friends - all of them exhausted but clenching their teeth bravely. He wished he didn’t have to take them through this, heck, he didn’t want to be here either, but they were running out of options and time. To find Zola, they’d have to invade Hydra and squeeze them for information. If they found Zola’s brain here, even better. Bucky seemed nervous, his eyes were switching back and forth constantly. In this light, Steve couldn’t say if he saw sweat on his friend’s features, or if that was just leftover rain. Bucky leaned against a wall, arm above his head. Was he alright? Steve was sure he would be. If not, well, they could use a post outside of the building who could warn them if Hydra called for backup.
“You all know what we’re here for. Dr. Vreis mentioned Hydra was gonna resurrect Zola. I have no idea how that works, but we should expect anything. If you see him, kill him.“ Steve noticed the look Bucky sent towards him, one with raised eyebrows, but the blonde continued.
“Make sure not a single Hydra worm leaves this building. Kill them, if you have to. Don’t think about it. If they manage to get backup, we’re not gonna witness dawn.“ Sure, killing was not his style, but in this weak condition, they couldn’t afford an unnoticed person stabbing their backs. Also, this was Hydra. These people had chosen to be here, to destroy and to kill. They were Hydra cannon fodder and no mercy could save them. It hadn’t been any different in the past when the fighters surrounding Steve and Bucky were praised as the Howling Commandos.
Natasha nodded.
“Don’t think that’s gonna be an issue. Still have some scars from New Jersey that scream for payback. How do we get in?“
That was gonna be hard. Either they could - Steve’s head whipped around. He mentioned for everyone to get into the shadows. He’d heard something. The blonde was hiding behind a van right now, keeping eye contact with Bucky across the street. Bucky pointed down and forward. Steve understood, kneeled down and checked out what moved behind the car. It was dark and with normal eyes, he wouldn’t have seen much at all. But thanks to Erskine, he spotted three pairs of feet. Quickly, he supplied Bucky with the number of opponents, then listened into the darkness.
All he heard was water hitting the ground in drops. It was running down his body, too, made him uncomfortable and added risk to the prospect of a fight. He hoped he wouldn’t slip too much.
A mercenary walked past the van, his eyes suddenly turning towards Bucky. That moment, Steve grabbed the man, pulled him back and with a deep breath, pushed him into the ground. Blood mixed with rainwater and ran down the asphalt in thin streams. Bucky clenched his teeth on the other side, but Steve couldn’t figure out what was happening.
The sound had alarmed the other Hydra guards and suddenly, shouts filled the air and one could hear steps everywhere.
After a few seconds, Steve was involved in close combat, just like all his friends. From the corner of his eye, he made sure no one was alone or outnumbered. His vigilant eyes didn’t notice the dark figure on the roof of the brewery, however. It stood unmoving, one with the night’s black mantle, eyes carefully studying the four intruders.
When Natasha jumped behind an armed agent, she hit the sidewalk’s edge and twisted her ankle. She slipped and went behind a few boxes, out of Steve’s sight. He sent a look to Sam, who had his wings on. He constantly shielded himself from the bullets and handed out a beating with the metal appendages. The edge of those, matched with precision and some force, could definitely knock a guy out. Bucky was fighting near the opposite wall. He was surrounded by mercs, but he held one on the collar. Another one came from the side, but Bucky saw him. With his strong left first, he punched him into the dark. The other was still hanging helplessly and got thrown far away. The Hydra goon crashed into the gate of the brewery and Steve could see a dent along with a crack.
Steve himself found himself under attack. He paid for the few seconds he observed the others. One of the men swung around a knife, but Steve kicked his legs away. The man struck himself. Another tried to shoot him, but Steve moved fast. The agent with the gun hit a comrade, leaving Steve with less work. The blonde did a fast number of steps before knocking out the last two with a mean kick. The field was clearing. He rushed to Natasha, still on her back, almost killing Steve with her guns. Despite her injury, she was surrounded by bodies, more than one of them strangled. Blood was all over her figure and her straight hair looked straggly.
“She’s here“, Nat whispered and Steve realized only then that he had no idea what Bucky was doing. Had she gotten to him again, finishing what she couldn’t in Wakanda?
As soon as his eyes landed on the metal arm, he was relieved. But the brunette didn’t look so good. Bucky’s eyes were red and he was breathing hard. Sam was looking at him, too, gun still in his hand. Steve could feel his heart beating fast.
“Buck? You alright?“
Bucky didn’t look up. Worry started to gnaw on Steve’s mind. What if this was too much? Zola was here, or at least, that’s what they assumed. The same Zola who had experimented on Bucky. Sam’s words echoed in his mind, He’ll need therapeutic sessions. A lot of them.
Suddenly, the wind turned and a strange smell wafted through the air. Steve was on alert, expecting some serious poison. Hydra would do anything. Nat was back on her legs, Sam helped her, putting a stabilizing tape around her ankle. The two of them didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
But Steve did. It was a faint scent, but it was there. Chemical and becoming more pungent with every second, but whatever it was, Steve knew it couldn’t affect him or his best friend, at least not physically. Thanks to the Serum, they were immune to biochemicals.
Bucky, however, seemed to move now, to grow even more agitated. He was scratching his wrist, over and over and his eyes widened. Steve couldn’t see any blue in the brunette’s eyes; his pupils were blown. Oh crap. Was Hydra brewing up anything? What if it affected Bucky psychologically?
Steve walked over to his friend, gently placing his hand on his shoulder. Bucky grabbed it immediately with his metal hand. He twisted it, applying pressure which pulled Steve closer and had him stumble to his knees. Bucky towered over him, grimly watching the blonde’s shock.
After a second, he released Steve’s hand, eyes widening when he escaped the haze of his mind. When he spoke, his voice sounded foreign. It was rougher than ever and had a lilt that Steve had never heard before.
“Give me orders. I can’t - just to be on the safe side.“ Just so I won’t kill you.
Shivers claimed Steve’s skin, suddenly he felt the lingering doom that the presence of Hydra implied. He needed to protect his friends, or they’d all go down, probably even by the hand of the brunette. Bucky was in no way stable, he shouldn’t be here at all; Steve had actually done Hydra a favor by bringing him right to their doorstep.
“Protect us, kill Hydra.“
Guilt crept over the blonde like a shadow. If something happened, if people died, it would all be his fault. Maybe that had been what Zola meant in New Jersey, Steve dying had been a metaphor. To save Bucky meant losing the world. He’d be running forever, he would have lost everything else. The man who sacrificed everything.
Steve’s fists balled, but he lifted his eyes now, looking at his friend. He couldn’t just abandon him. Not even if it cost everything else. Bucky was all he had.
“This was just distraction. We’ll go in. If Zola’s really in here, we can end Hydra today. Cut the brain off and they can grow all the heads they want; it will still be over. That’s a chance we can’t ignore. We’ll need to split up, though, to be faster.“
His gaze fell onto Natasha, who leaned against a wall, staring into the darkness they were about to enter. Another person who probably shouldn’t be here. I have them. I will deliver. Maybe this was it, who knew? Would she really make deals with Hydra? No. But was she really free of Hydra’s influence? Or was she just pretending? Steve knew she’d gone through brainwashing as well. He’d definitely keep an eye on her. That would mean leaving Bucky with Sam. For a moment, Steve tried to count all the reasons why he couldn’t do that. Because Sam was ready to hurt Bucky. He was way too fast. Too weak to hold Bucky down.
But then, Steve realized that he himself wouldn’t be able to do these things at all. Sam had told him that. You’re reckless when it comes to Bucky. I can’t have you dying on me again.
The decision on how to split up was taken out of Steve’s hands when another house’s door opened and new agents approached with their guns set on their group. Natasha jumped into the fight and Steve right after her. Together, they sent a metal trash container rolling into the enemy. In the meantime, Sam noticed Bucky was rushing over to the big brewery gate, climbing over it swiftly. He quickly set his mind on following the brunette into the hellhole that was supposed to be a Hydra facility.
Sam had seen the silent plea Steve’s eyes had transmitted to him when he started to run after Natasha. Take care of him. And Sam would, he promised to himself. He clambered up the gate of the brewery, but his body was tired. It was pleading for a pause. His arm was burning and fresh blood ripped open the half healed cut from hours ago. Sam could feel nausea pooling inside of him again. Visibly struggling, he realized how physically superior Steve and Bucky were to him. If Hydra messed with Barnes again, turning him into a brainwashed killer, Sam would pay with his life trying to stop him. Sam cursed at that prospect. He wasn’t ready to die, not here, not by Hydra. He’d promised Clint to watch his “grand Disney Movie Collection“ first thing when they’d be free to go home. But they’d have to get through this first.
Sam wondered if the scent Steve had smelled really was something to worry about. He didn’t smell anything. Did Bucky? Was it a weapon Hydra aimed at him on purpose? Sam followed the brunette around, he’d taken a secure path. Bucky was peeking around a corner and now turned towards Sam with a scowl.
“What do you think you’re doing here, birdbrain?“
“Having your back, Mr. I’m-fine-on-my-own.“
Bucky snorted, but let him. Jerk.
Sam wondered if this was what Barnes had been like before the war. The two men were quiet and slipped through a door that led them into a brewery. Big containers stood across the warehouse-like hall, storing beer. Hiding places, advantage positions. Luckily for them, the hall seemed empty and they could move around in there. On the other end, the gate to the outside was visible; the two of them could’ve gone in through there as well. A second escape route. Sam’s thoughts were still swirling around, he wasn’t sure what to expect from inside the building, but he noticed how agitated Bucky seemed to be, constantly looking at his wrist as if he was missing something there. His blown pupils and the way his metal fingers curled and uncurled weren’t reassuring. Sam had a suspicion.
“What was Steve talking about? You smell it too, don’t you?“
There was a moment of silence before Bucky stopped walking, right in front of a door that had a small glass insert to see through. Suddenly, the brunette pulled Sam down, on high alert, and the Falcon could feel his heart pounding. They sat crouched against a wall, waiting for inside patrols to pass by the door.
“Benzodiazepine.“
“You’re not serious. Why would they-?“
Bucky didn’t answer that and Sam, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that he’d never really left his counseling office, realized that these people he was surrounded with all needed more than just a friend - their lives were the biggest messes he’d ever seen and still, they managed to keep their heads above the roaring waves. But did they really?
Slowly, his eyes focused on Barnes, who only returned an icy glance. His body was tense, seemed ready for an outburst of energy, but the assassin moved with extreme control, like he was slipping into a succession of movements and settings his body was trained for. They still sat against the stone wall. Sam’s mind exploded with fear when the metal arm pulled a gun out. To his surprise, it was handed to him.
“Don’t need it“, Bucky rasped, but Sam didn’t know if he could believe that. If his suspicions were right, he’d stand abandoned in that facility in a few minutes.
Barnes’ wrist was red from all the scratching, proving the credibility of the pararescue’s theory. The Soldier’s leg twitched, for a second and very rapidly, he stood up, opening the door for them both to descend the stairs.
Sam understood the signs, a suspicion formed, based on blood analysis results and old Russian files in Romanoff’s shaky hands. Barnes was on withdrawal. Benzodiazepine was highly addictive, he’d seen it with some of his army buddies, even Riley had struggled with it when officials had decided that extreme measures had to be taken. Sam was pretty sure Hydra didn’t care for the recommended three-month limitation on the drug. It was odorless, but if Hydra had managed to condition Bucky to scents...
So, he’d have to expect anything. Drug addicts did crazy things. Oh well, this was gonna be fun.
Sam took the stairs and reached the hallway behind the door. It was long, wide enough for the two men to walk beside each other, and lit by tubes emitting a cold, blueish-white light. Sam was cold. Bucky started walking and looked at the different cards that stuck to the doors as information plates. Not a word was spoken and the whole place felt eerie. Sam hated this kind of silence, he’d actually prefer the rumbling of the brewery hall from before, even if it meant not hearing every footstep. Now, he was worried about who would hear his footsteps.
Then, Bucky just chose one door on the right and walked in, not caring much about Sam. Was this still Barnes? Or the Winter Soldier already? Or even worse, something in between?
Sam followed him into the room that stood empty. Empty in terms of Hydra personnel. While the left side wall held several cabinets and even a sink, the right side was occupied by desks and a few monitors above them. A screensaver ran through there and Sam decided to take a look at the loads of papers and files hoarded on the wooden desks. Maybe they’d actually find some useful information in here. Sam did an inner fist bump at how messy Hydra was in here, how they’d just left everything on the tables, even confidential materials. How arrogant, he thought. They didn’t even think anyone would ever get in here.
“They should’ve invested in a folder system, don’t you think?“, Sam turned towards Bucky, who was still going through the cabinets. Suddenly, Sam froze. What was he doing!?
“Barnes…“, Sam said, a warning, hopefully, or a stop sign.
The Soldier stood before a safe, typing in a code. The safe opened. The Asset pulled out a syringe full of liquid. The little cap was in between his teeth and his metal hand pulled his sleeve up. Oh, come on! You gotta be kidding me. This is bullshit.
“Barnes, what is in that syringe?“
The brunette looked up, slowly, and completely calm. No signs of aggression, unlike Sam knew from addicts mentally preparing to fight for their drug. But this wasn’t just an addict, this was one who knew he’d win this fight. Sam would have to be extremely smart about this.
“A benzodiazepine enhancement.“
Shit. Sam had expected it and sighed deeply. He was too tired to start an inner rant for being so stupid, not noticing the signs earlier, for all this crap he could’ve stopped. He mustered Barnes, who stood straight in this silence like it was his natural habitat. He knew why the assassin was so calm about it; because Sam didn’t pose a serious threat to him. He stood no chance against the man who could tap into the raw power the Winter Soldier possessed at any moment.
“Put it away. I didn’t sign up for this. I thought we were done doing what Hydra wants.“
“I need it, Sam. My brain is exploding without it.“
Sam considered all the steps he usually used with drug addicts. None of them would work. Not with stupid Bucky Barnes. Not with even-more-stupid Steven Rogers, whose only drug was stupid Bucky Barnes. Sam groaned. Suddenly, a thought shot through his mind.
“You knew this stuff was here, prepped for you, didn’t you!? And you told us to come here instead of following the trail we had, just so you could have your damn shot!“
“You didn’t have a trail.“
While Sam was running hot with his words, Barnes still leaned against the cabinets, calm and peaceful, which fueled the rage in Sam even more. Bucky was still Hydra’s puppet. And he couldn’t even see it.
“We could’ve worked one out! But instead, you told us Zola was here. We - Steve trusted you!“
“Maybe you should go. Find Zola, kill him, you heard Steve. I didn’t lie about this stuff, Hydra is stationed here and judging by how big their unit is, I’m sure you’ll find direct ties to Zola at least. Might even come up with a… meet and greet.“
“I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as I can prevent you from getting high off that potion.“
“Face it, Sam, you can’t. I’m no hero, no matter how much you’d hope for…“
“No, you aren’t.“ Sam’s fingers had touched his gun. He’d do it. One, two, three. One shot. Sam’s ears were ringing. The repel’s familiar aching crawled through his arm. Sam looked up. Barnes still stood, a gun casing rolled over the floor. The metal hand had shielded the bullet off. The face behind the hand looked hard like stone.
And that was when it started, the real fight, Sam against the Winter Soldier. The gun shot had only been the beginning, a risk, and a loss.
Now, the Asset broke the surface, reappeared, right in front of Sam, right around his throat. He could feel the brunette vibrating with strength. His feet moved faster than Sam’s, just like his fists. Sam was bleeding, his hip crashed into a desk’s edge. Dammit.
He couldn’t breathe for a second, then it felt like he was on fire. The Winter Soldier had his throat. Sam felt his calm breath against his face. He pressed his eyes shut. And got punished in an instant. Hard shove against a door. Sam gasped for air, it hurt, his back, his head, everything. The wings on his back were getting heavier. But the Winter Soldier was merciless. Shook him. Another shove, same door. He’d die. Sam knew it. No one really survived the Winter Soldier. Only Steve would. A deep punch into his stomach. Sam’s eyes were watering.
The Soldier gazed at him harshly, ice in his gaze. He was a predator playing with his kill. A third shove, more powerful and Sam screamed. The door behind him flew open, he fell backwards, needed air, but gained two steps of distance to the metal arm. Sam huffed, couldn’t escape, but he’d-
The Asset before him grabbed his own ears, panic in his eyes, sending looks all through the room. It took only seconds until the brunette howled, pain evident. What the hell-?
“Stop! Stop! Stop it!“
A yelp came from his throat. Sam sat up, could find air again, he sent the flashing lights before his eyes away. His vision was clearing. But his hearing? Over and over, a strangled mewl sounded from Bucky’s throat, he was in pain. His body was twisting and turning. Not the Winter Soldier.
“Barnes, are you - tell me what’s happening!“ Protect us, Steve had told Bucky. Well, that plan had failed. More like Protect Bucky.
“Are you alright?“
“It’s- I- ugh, I can’t… think, something is buzzing in my head.“
Buzzing? Like, flies, bees, nasty little insects? Or like electricity? Buzzing can’t be good.
“Is it your arm, does it - can it give you electric impulses or something? Can they steer you remotely?“
“What is wrong with you, birdbrain!? I’m not a… a freakin’ robot!“
Sam huffed.
“What’s wrong, my ass. I’m no robot either; I’m dangerously exhausted, on what feels like the edge of starving and…“
Bucky whimpered.
“S-ssam…make it go away! I can’t-“
Sam didn’t understand, but the assassin’s distress seemed to get worse. Was he in pain? The assassin was writhing on the ground. The metal arm scratched over the cement floor and Sam could’ve killed Bucky for that sound alone. Suddenly, Bucky’s hands smeared blood over his face. He was bleeding! Where did that blood com-? Bucky screamed.
“Barnes! Make what go away?“
“The…noise! S’ so shrill!“
Bucky’s voice faded and suddenly, he just dropped. Until now, Sam hadn’t dared to come closer to the man, but he rushed to his side now. Unconscious. Blood ran over Barnes’ neck. It came from his ears. But he had a pulse, that was good. Just unconscious. Sam’s heart was pounding from all the shock, even from the fight. Blood rushed through his head, he felt dizzy for a second. Noise? Sam hadn’t heard a peep. This was a new problem and it felt like a slap in the face. Because Sam had no idea what to do.
Who had knocked Barnes out? Without even touching him? Was there even anything he could do for him right now?
Sam looked back to the room. Nothing. It was empty. Dark. Maybe he should check out the room again. Search the desks for intel. And hide that stupid syringe. At least Bucky hadn’t injected it yet. Who knew what Hydra had brewed together? They wanted the Winter Soldier back, that was for sure.
Sam just wanted to walk towards that door when it was closed by the other side. A second later, the lights were switched on - electricity buzzed through the air. Sam quickly jumped around.
“Good evening, Mr. Wilson“, a male voice stated from further in the room. German accent, it sounded terribly stereotypical. Like in old war movies. Zola? A bigger table stood there, with a screen showing a face.
“What an honor to finally meet you in person.“ Zola. Sam stepped a little closer, holding onto something. The weight of his wings almost pulled him down. His legs felt shaky. But now, he could see the old fashioned computers standing in the back.
“What did you do to him!? He’s bleeding!“
“Sergeant Barnes will be fine soon. Yet you won’t be here to witness that. But I ought to thank you for taking so much care of my masterpiece.“
“You won’t take him back. I won’t let you.“
“Ah. I see you haven’t changed. But you also could not prevent Riley’s death, now could you?“
Sam couldn’t move. Riley? No one knew about Riley. People didn’t remember the fallen soldiers. Not Riley. Negligence and disregard of the fallen. The burden every veteran carried.
“Although you had promised to ever stand beside him. Now, you are afraid it will all happen again. Steven Rogers will die, Mr. Wilson.“
“Maybe. But you won’t come alive ever again.“ Sam bit his teeth. The pain was still shooting through his muscles, now more than before with the adrenaline fading. He just wanted to sit down.
“Oh, but you can’t hold me down. We’re already in the final stage, Mr. Wilson. At last, the museums will provide the real cornerstone of history. Hydra will find new ways, we always have. Riley was just a tiny part of the big puzzle, he died-“
“Stop talking about him like that! You don’t know anything about his death!“
“Ah, Mr. Wilson. Do you?“
Sam almost staggered backwards at the accusation. The words just kept repeating in his head. Do you? Don’t listen to him. I knew Riley. He was one of the good guys and definitely not Hydra. He died a few meters away from me. There was nothing I could do to save him.
A series of images showed up on the screen, the day their rescue squadron had pulled up the tents to hide in the desert of Afghanistan for a week. A special commando to apprehend Khalid Khandil, hiding somewhere with his pockets full of RPGs. The photo had been taken from closer than Sam liked. Who-? A photo of him and Riley cleaning their wings, Sam remembered that. The day they’d exchanged their dog tags. More photos, too close. A mole!?
“Your superior, Col. Walker insisted on keeping confidential reports from us, quite invaluable intelligence. We could not let him reach Khandil. He needed a warning, to remember where his loyalties lied. Immediate action was required. He favored Riley. We could not let him set foot on the ground again.“
“You’re full of bullshit. He was killed in action. I saw him crash, saw him fall and watched him wind up dead. Had he not been dead at impact, the fall would’ve snapped his neck.“
“Yet you never noticed the delicate bullet wound between his ribs. A shot of ultimate precision, only possible with a skill mastered over years, more likely decades. It’s unique. Look into the file.“
Sam gasped when a photo appeared on the second side of the file that was on the desk before him, grainy and not sharp at all, but clearly showing a person with a long rifle hiding. A file about Riley. With all his data.
“Bullshit. My heat signals would’ve…”
“Do they now?“ Zola’s voice echoed through the room.
At first, Sam wasn’t sure that was supposed to mean. His heat monitors worked fine…? Then he realized. Bucky. He turned around so fast he almost fell. But Bucky was still passed out. Someone was bent over him, however, working on the metal arm’s plates. Sam’s eyes widened, he grabbed his gun. Ice-cold shock. It was gone. The knife! He grabbed air. Gone too. What the-? He was unarmed. Harmless. Shit. What do I do?
The person stood up, eyes flicking towards Sam. He realized then how much this one looked like Bucky himself. The Remnant. Steve had mentioned it. Crap. As soon as he began to move, she moved, fast, something shiny moving with her. It flew, then, digging right into Sam’s shoulder. A knife. His own knife. Something banged against a door, but Sam couldn’t think. His brain was clouded with all the pain. He couldn’t use the wings. It would tear him apart.
The Remnant grabbed Bucky under the arms, just dragging him with her. No! Sam swore to himself he wouldn’t let her take him. They would never get the Winter Soldier again. Sam staggered over to them, as fast as he could. He winced with every step, could feel the sweat running over his body, joined by burning blood. He’d stop the Remnant. Protect Bucky. The least he could do.
More pounding came from the door. Shit. If more Hydra guys get in here… I need to bring him to safety. But the door was still closed. That meant she wouldn’t get out either, right? Sam looked around. He grabbed a fire extinguisher with his good left arm. Maybe he could- throw it? No chance. His arm protested immediately. Sam rolled it, with more force than he could sacrifice. He heard something crack, but it was the door.
The Remnant stopped, ignoring the makeshift weapon. Suddenly, she reached down, where something glinted. The syringe! She emptied it into Bucky’s veins and threw it away. Just then, the door gave in with a mighty burst. With a powerful jump, she reached into the ceiling and pulled herself up, disappearing through a skylight. Sam gasped, he’d - Steve and Nat ran in, Sam just pointed at the ceiling and his vision went dark. Soft arms caught him before he could crash into the floor.
Steve had followed Natasha and together, they’d massacred the hordes of Hydra getting in their way. After the fifth room, finally, they’d found an official guy, who’d started shaking when Steve had grabbed his collar and pulled him into the hallway, the graveyard of his commando. The Black Widow had taken over then, purring torture of the mind into his ear, very sweetly, while tying him to a chair. Steve held it, upside down, they simply didn’t have the time for half-assed threats this time. Natasha promised the super soldier would let the chair fall, but the man behaved.
It took a minute until his head turned red and heavy and another until he was close to suffocating, but until then, they had every piece of information they needed. Zola was in Munich, there wasn’t much intel on that, but they’d been instructed to build a trap for the Winter Soldier and even Mr. Wilson. The grand plan was to basically kill Steve Rogers at sight. Natasha hit Steve’s arm when the man started coughing and the chair fell. A penetrating crack sounded at the impact; the wooden chair remained completely intact. Steve sent the Russian a dirty look, she was enjoying this too much. They ran after that, following the noise and arriving just in time to rush after the Remnant.
Steve’s shoulders were almost too wide to fit through the narrow skylight. He caught the foot that kicked at him and pulled the Remnant towards him.
She flew, wasn’t much heavier than Nat, but rolled forwards just to stem herself up on her hands and kick Steve in the ribs. He held on - even grabbed one of her knives while her fingers wandered over to his neck. He slashed her, once, twice. By now, he was working so fast, there was nothing else he saw, only her, the moves, the eyes. He cut her sleeve, right at the shoulder. The moon came through, sending a light upon the exposed skin. Steve gasped, he was thrown off. There was a mark on her shoulder, dark, burned flesh. An eagle, the eagle. The SSR insignia. Letters underneath. 1946, M.P. Carter. The Remnant angled her foot to kick his jaw and Steve blinked. She was strong and agile. Able to crack his bones.
Now, she was running, over the roofs, Nat right after her. Rebecca would have to stop soon, the roof was endin- nevermind, she jumped right into the barrack apartments.
“Nat! Stay behind!“, Steve yelled. It was a very quick decision, but the woman didn’t send him a kind look. She shook her head and prepared to jump after the assassin.
“Stay behind!“, Steve repeated, more need in his voice now. He was the leader, he made the decisions and right now, he needed her with Sam and Bucky.
“And what are you gonna do?“, she questioned. “Rollin’ over there, breaking your bones and hoping for Bucky 2.0 to listen to you? There’s no way you’re going alone.“
With that, she turned around, determined and ready to push herself to her limits. Steve wondered whether this was part of her mysterious backstory deal. To be everywhere and relay intelligence back to whoever paid her. Steve clenched his fist. This was not the time for trust issues. But what if he sent her back and she’d deliver Bucky? To Hydra? What if he took her with him and that was exactly when Hydra was gonna take him? Because there was no one to look after him right now. Steve hated this. But he decided to stick with his plan. He grabbed her arm.
“I mean it. Go back, take care of Sam and Bucky. You wouldn’t dare leave them without protection.“
Natasha gave him a challenging look, one of those expressions Steve couldn’t read. Her face resembled a stone wall and her right eyebrow stood high above her eye. Steve’s heart pounded loudly and for a moment, he didn’t care about the Remnant getting away. More importantly, he needed to know if he could trust the Russian spy in front of him.
“Are you sure that’s the right choice, Steve?“
“Sometimes, you gotta make a right choice, not the right one.“
“Fine, Rogers. Hurry up.“
Steve nodded and took his chances by entering the building before him through the same window Rebecca had taken before him.
Steve carefully rolled to the side and came up to his feet. The Room around him was mockingly quiet, only the glass shards beneath his feet crunched a little.
This time, unlike a few days ago, back in Cologne, where he just hadn’t known better, Steve had left all his weapons with the others. Rebecca wouldn’t be able to steal them this way. And when she’d try, Steve would turn it around and grab hers. He was prepared.
After a few seconds, however, Steve questioned himself for still standing in the room. She was probably gone, long gone even, if her mission was to kill Natasha. The super soldier was sure that if he had been a target, he’d be fighting for his life already.
He remembered how Buck had explained how commands had to be obeyed. and how. He’d stated that deviations from the mission's objectives weren’t an option if Hydra had fiddled with your mind. Their assets were programmed that way, it was just how they functioned.
So Steve dared to use the little flashlight on his wrist. The living room he stood in was silent and looked untouched. On the opposite side, he made out a door that probably led to another room, hopefully with unharmed and sleeping people. Next to it was another door with a little peephole. The door to the hallway. Steve tiptoed towards it. Locked from the inside.
A new wave of adrenaline went through his tired body. She was still here. The blonde sent a rushed ray of light through the room, checking for movement, for any concerning detail he could’ve overseen before. Nothing.
Suddenly, something caught his attention. A pair of cat eyes glowed back at him in the corner of his eye. When a faint noise rose from one of the other rooms, Steve averted his eyes for a second. When he turned back, the cat was gone.
Air shifted around him. All of the sudden, something crashed into Steve. He huffed, losing all the air in his lungs. The force sent him backwards, right into a wall and against a light switch. The flashing brightness made his attacker stumble. He took advantage of it.
Steve seized Rebecca by the arm. He applied more force than he thought necessary and pushed the limb behind her back. With another movement, she was sandwiched between his body and the wall. The young woman hissed at the impact. Steve knew she wasn’t hurt. She wore a damn tac suit. But he got her irritated. Was that good or bad?
“Rebecca! Snap out of it!“, Steve yelled. “I know you don’t remember, but just listen, okay? Your brother is here, Bucky, and we need you to just hold still and look at him, that’s all.“
She struggled and it took the super soldier a lot of self-restraint to not just punch her out of consciousness. Just to make sure she couldn’t do any more harm in the name of Hydra.
“Rebecca. Your name. Do you recognize it?“
She still tried to squirm out of his grasp, but Steve held her tight. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to hold her like this, though. He felt her strength, every muscle of her body was tense and full of power. He needed to be fast. Sending a quick prayer to the heavens, he continued trying to pull her back by calling to her memories.
“Rebecca Barnes. Bucky is your brother. Do you remember your little sist…“
He didn’t get any further. She headbutted him, hard. Steve’s nose cracked and he felt blood on his rough lips. Next, an elbow crashed into his exposed throat and breathing turned into a real struggle. He needed his hands to protect himself, he couldn’t hold her.
“Stop it, just focus!“
A glass vase hit his chest and shattered. A burning sensation almost overwhelmed him, with stinging cuts starting little fires on his skin. Steve couldn’t contain a rough groan. She kicked him, but the soldier held his fists up. He was fast enough to defend himself. The assassin twisted his wrist. The flashlight went straight into his eyes now. Steve struggled, tried to move his arm away. Suddenly, she let him have his way. He crashed his arm against the wall. It broke the flashlight. Great. Steve heard a click. She’d switched the light back off. He was blind in the darkness, unable to see anything thanks to the bright flares of light in his vision. It left him with his other senses. Steve hated it.
He smelled only sweat and blood and it was most likely his own. While he tried to stagger somewhere else, a thought crossed his mind. Maybe he could hide. It was dark, after all. So he decided to go into a crouch and find some sofa to take cover behind. Steve really hoped to escape Rebecca’s eyes. Rebecca. Still in her in a tac suit, brainwashed by Hydra, that was a concept Steve still couldn't grasp. Bucky, yes, he’d been a soldier, but her? Why her?
Sweet Rebecca who loved to talk about having kids one day. Who read the newspapers to Grandma Barnes every morning. Who’d bake the best cranberry muffins he knew. Whose trade mark stance was with a baby cradled in her arms and a lullaby on her lips, unendingly gentle. Was trying to kill him.
Steve wasn’t sure where he was right now, but at least his eyes had recovered from that blinding reverb of light. Still, he couldn’t hear anything. Not even a breath. Had she taken off? Had she considered him slow enough to not follow?
The blonde’s fingers touched something soft. The couch. A hiding pla- Suddenly, something dug into his throat. Right above the Adam’s apple. Steve gasped for air. His fingers shot up. It proved impossible to free his throat. A tight rope restricted it. Rope? It was a cable to press all his oxygen off. A cable, now an instrument of fate. Able to take his life.
Rebecca stood behind the super soldier and dug her knee into his back, forcing him to arch his back and expose his throat even more. Steve knelt, grasping for any wisp of air he could reach. Whines escaped him. His body started to quiver. Rebecca was strong. Even when he tried to punch her, she just tightened to cable around his neck, kneed him in the back, eliciting groan after groan from the tall man. His eyes watered. He wondered how strong she really was, if she could take Bucky. But he wouldn’t come. Not to the rescue, not to watch. Steve just hoped the others would run. Would they be fine without him? Hopefully, Nat took care of them.
Steve couldn’t free himself from Rebecca’s merciless grasp. But it would be over in a few minutes, maybe only seconds. She wouldn’t give way to his pleading taps on her arm, a last attempt of communication.
When his vision started to blur around the edges, his mind half-noticed her fingers tapping against his neck in an arrhythmic pattern, almost like a telegrapher’s tapping. He wasn’t sure if it was real. For a moment, Steve thought he got a little mouthful of air again.
That’s when he noticed the soft material crumpled up in his cramping fists wasn’t the sofa. It was a curtain. Okay. Irrelevant now. Steve felt the energy leave his body like steam over boiling water. Images started to appear in front of his inner eye. His Ma. Bucky. New York. Cabbage soup. Asthma attacks. The war. Bucky in Azzano, on the lab table. Steve pulling him out of that hellhole.
Whether it was filled with tragic purpose or just a physical reaction to his memories Steve couldn’t tell. He thought he’d kneed there for an eternity, the cable around his neck a promise. The woman behind him a witness to Hydra’s cruelty. Steve had stopped struggling long ago.
But then, it happened.
Steve’s arm jerked forward at the memory of rescuing Bucky. When the image hit him again, he felt the strain of his best friend’s body in his arms. How he pulled him.
The super soldier’s hearing was almost gone, but he heard a loud clattering. All the pressure was released from his neck. Was he dead? Something hit his head. He fell. Collapsed. Layers of soft curtains buried him. The world was dull and dark, but Steve was on the ground, gasping for air like a fish out of water. Like an asthmatic. That was exactly how it felt. Steve knew. How no matter how much you air you tried swallow, you could never fill your lungs with it. Like the cable was still there.
Something happened behind him. Steve couldn’t see. Couldn’t turn around. He’d never felt this helpless. His sense of smell and taste returned. Blood was everywhere in his mouth. His tongue felt like a dead, flabby thing. Steve wanted to vomit, but he couldn’t. His hands went up, shaky like a grandfather’s, ridiculously slow in taking the loose cable off his shoulders completely.
Shots screamed through the air and Steve thought his ears were gonna burst. Would he go deaf? Disillusioned, maybe? He coughed blood. All he could do was wait.
It took another eternity until hands touched Steve’s face. He must’ve faded in and out of consciousness because he was sweating and felt pain he hadn’t before. He flinched back, feeling how his body rebelled against him. The hands followed him.
When Steve managed to open his crusty eyes, Natasha looked at him, desperately checking for his pulse. He tried to ask her where Rebecca went, if the Russian had gotten her, how the others were, but all he managed to produce was a pathetic croak. His teammate shushed him immediately, visibly relieved that he was alive and getting back to himself.
“You’ll be fine. I got you, sweetstuff. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.“
And with that, Steve took in another round of darkness. He didn’t notice when the redheaded spy returned together with a stocky Hydra operative to carry the super soldier out of the room that had become his very own trap.