Chapter Text
James Buchanan Barnes had regrets. Of course he did, every man and woman alike had at least one in their life. But he'd never expected to be facing those regrets so soon. And he didn't expect to have so many so young. Not even through his twenties and already so much he wished he'd done differently.
Mostly he regretted the lies he'd told Steve over the years. Though not many, they were big. Bigger than big, they were Goddamned monumental in size. And God did damn him, it seemed, for lying to someone like that.
Why else would he be strapped down to a metal operating table? One that seemed to be freezing cold no matter how long he lay there. Not even his own body heat, that Steve would cling to in the middle of long December nights, could do anything against it. Not to mention how he was poked and prodded as scientists huddled around him, muttering to each other in German. There were enough similar words between their languages that he knew he was some sort of experiment, one in a long line of failures. No one else had survived what they were doing to him, at least not for long.
He was laying on his deathbed, it was as clear as day. It was just a matter of time now.
When the doctors were gone and he wasn’t reciting his tags, his name and any other relevant information, Bucky quietly said his prayers. He begged for forgiveness and thanked God that Steve was safe. He was at home. Bombs wouldn’t be reaching him, not in New York.
When the doctors were there, he did his best to distract himself, receded into a place in his mind where he let himself imagine what Steve was doing. Maybe he’d gotten a job, found some more friends. Maybe he’d… met someone. Some pretty gal who finally saw Steve for who he really was, saw him in the way Bucky had for years now. He’d cry, dreaming of Steve as he settled down with his new wife, working for some kind of advertisers or maybe on those new animated cartoons, he was certainly talented enough to work for that Walt Disney guy.
Bucky wished he could be there. Even just as his neighbor. He’d sit through the wedding and he’d give the greatest best man speech ever written and he wouldn’t complain, because they could still grow old together, even if it wasn’t the way he so desperately wanted.
He was always startled out of his reveries by a painful jolt of electricity at his head. He’d scream and bite down on the piece of leather they’d stuck in his mouth while he was out of it, breathing heavily when it finally let up. And every time, he’d spit out that bite guard and start reciting; Sergeant James Barnes, 32557038, and the doctors would grow agitated. Sometimes they’d do it again, shocking him till he was hoarse from screaming, sometimes they’d leave him alone, locking him in the dark with nothing to tell the time by.
He woke up with a start, but he found he was still by himself, still strapped down to that operating table. Something was going on, he could hear distant voices, but nothing he could properly make out. How long had he been here? Weeks? Months? It certainly felt that long, though he supposed it could also have been a mere few hours too.
What even brought him here? He struggled to remember, everything was so foggy. They were captured, taken behind enemy lines. The Nazis came out of nowhere, swarming them like he’d never seen before. And they were unstoppable, with tough, dark armor and helmets that hid their faces. They threw themselves past bullets. He’d ordered a retreat, but it was too late. The next thing he knew he was talking it up, goading the guards so if anyone was singled out, it would be him. Not his men. If he could keep them alive long enough for Colonel Philips to send out a search party…
He wasn’t a sergeant for nothing.
“Sergeant James Barnes,” he started muttering into the dark. “32557038. Sergeant James Barnes…” Over and over again. It was all he had. After all, what was he at this point but a name, a jumble of numbers, and a set of foggy memories he could only barely cling to. “32557038… Sergeant… 3255…”
“Bucky?” He hadn’t realized his eyes were closed. No one had called him Bucky since… “Oh my god…” It was just a whisper, something sort of breathless and familiar. He could hear the straps holding him down being torn apart, metal buckles falling to the floor. He turned his head slowly, trying to focus on the figure over him.
“Is that-”
“It’s me. It’s Steve.”
“Steve?” What was he doing here? Steve was supposed to be at home, he was supposed to be living out his life, not standing over him, sweaty and dirty and out of breath.
“C’mon.” He was being lifted, hauled bodily off of the table and onto his feet.
“Steve,” he said again, he couldn’t stop. It felt like all he could say. Steve, Steve, Steve. How was he here? He wobbled, clinging to the man before him and trying to get his bearings. A hand briefly touched the side of his face and blue eyes frantically looked over him.
“I thought you were dead.” Bucky wasn’t quite sure that wasn’t the case. He frowned slightly, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion as his eyes refocused and darkness swam in his vision.
“I thought you were smaller.”
Bucky was all but clinging to Steve, holding on tightly as he wavered on his feet. His legs felt like they were made of jelly. He wondered again how long he’d been laying there. Steve looked away, staring at something else he didn’t think he’d even be able to see if he turned his head, but that didn’t matter, all he could see was his friend.
“Come on,” Steve said again, wrapping his arm around his back and half lifting him down from the platform. “I got you.” His other arm grabbed Bucky’s and he helped him walk towards the open door. Steve did most of the walking. How’d he get so big? When’d he get strong enough to carry him?
“What happened to you?”
“I joined the army.” He said it like it was obvious and Bucky couldn’t help the half snort he gave in response.
“Fuckin’ punk,” he muttered, his eyes falling closed for a second.
“Hey, hey. Stay with me, pal. We gotta get outta here.” He felt that foreign hand on his face again and he forced his eyes open, meeting Steve’s. They were beautiful. Always had been.
“I’m good,” he insisted, starting to move again. “Let’s move.”
The factory, as it turned out, he wasn’t being kept in a prison, was like a maze. Hallways broke off and rejoined and for a moment it felt like they were going in circles, but Steve seemed to know what he was doing and Bucky trusted him more than he trusted himself at the moment. After a bit his legs felt a little bit more solid and he was able to run alongside his friend, who seemed to be putting out the effort of a light jog. He cursed to himself, staring in wonder, but kept following.
“Seriously?” he asked after a while, walking just behind Steve down a dimly lit hallway. “What happened to you? Did it hurt?”
“A little.” Sounded like bullshit.
“Is this permanent?”
“So far.” So far? The fuck did that mean? Steve was just some bulked out giant now? It felt so unnatural to look up at the back of his head as he followed along, letting the other lead the way.
Massive explosions sounded around them, echoing through the hallways to where he couldn’t tell which direction they really came from. Although, that could have just been his disorientation. They lurched away from a railing along a catwalk as fire and debris lept at them from below. Bucky could only scramble to follow behind Steve, keeping his eyes on the leather jacket he wore as they climbed up sets of stairs. There was another catwalk in sight, a bridge to cross to the other side, seemingly where they needed to go.
“Captain America!” Bucky looked up quickly, bracing himself and lifting his fists like he could do anything against a Nazi with a gun. “How exciting! I am a great fan of your films!” A man in a black coat stood on the other side of the raging river of fire, looking across at them. He started moving, walking across the little bridge.
Steve walked to meet him.
“So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement but still, impressive.” He felt like he’d missed something, something very very important. Steve didn’t even say anything, no warning, he just swung his fist, landing it solidly against the other man’s cheek. Even in the roaring chaos around them, the dull thud of knuckles against bone was loud. Bucky winced, that had to hurt.
“You got no idea.” Steve stood strong in front of the German man, who looked… wrong. Something was wrong with his face. His eyes were still a little fuzzy, but Bucky was sure of it. It seemed… loose. Like when Steve’s too-big shirts would sag over his skinny shoulders.
“Haven’t I?” The German swung his fist into Steve’s shield, the clang echoing in Bucky’s head. Steve was confused, but not for long. Things happened so quickly, he wasn’t sure how it started, but then his friend was on his back. He kicked out strong legs and knocked the German down too, only for his short friend to pull a lever and suddenly the bridge was pulling apart. Both men stood up, facing each other. “No matter what Erskine told you,” the man in black called across the growing chasm. “You see, I was his greatest success!”
Bucky had been nauseous before. Had been for… however long he’d been strapped down for. But he’d been keeping it under control. This, however, threatened to ruin all of that. His stomach heaved as the German grabbed the skin from under his jaw and slowly peeled back his face. He looked like just a skull, bright red and hollow.
“You don’t have one of those, do you?” He swallowed hard, breathing through his mouth to stave off the way his stomach rolled.
“You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind.” He started walking away, backing towards a door with his short companion. “Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!”
“Then how come you’re running!” Steve shouted back. The red monster just laughed as the doors slid closed.
Bucky didn’t even have time to process before another boom signaled more explosions below them. Steve grabbed his shoulder, leading him again.
“Come on, let’s go. Up!” They were racing up more stairs again, and Bucky just pushed through, ignoring the way his breath heaved in his chest and a stitch was forming in his side. Steve stopped, looking across a metal beam that led from one side to the other. Before he knew it, he was being helped over the railing onto that metal beam. “Let’s go. One at a time.”
Steve managed to somehow keep his voice calm even as everything fell apart around them, and Bucky did his best to hold onto that, taking a deep breath as he started carefully walking across. They were so high up, fire blazed what felt like miles below them.
The beam shook, jerking downwards. He didn’t have time to think. There was no time to turn back. He sprinted, counting on his forward momentum to keep him on a straight path, and he jumped, launching himself at the opposite railing and catching it just as the beam gave way and collapsed beneath him. He hauled himself over, his feet landing heavily on the metal.
“There’s gotta be a rope or something!” he shouted across, looking around desperately.
“Just go! Get out of here!”
“No! Not without you!” It sounded desperate, even to his own ears. But Bucky couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him behind again, of leaving Steve there. Because sure, he was stronger now, a real tank of a man.
But he was still a man, he could still be blown to pieces. Or crushed into the dirt.
He couldn’t hear whatever Steve said, but he could see the way he moved his head, the acceptance that Bucky wouldn’t move an inch unless they were side by side. Steve was stubborn, sure, but Bucky wouldn’t have been able to put up with him if he wasn’t his own brand of stubborn too.
He watched, sort of in awe, as Steve grabbed the broken metal railing and pushed on it until it was clear and there was enough space. Holy shit, he was going to try and jump across. Steve backed up, giving himself space for a running start. Fuck, would he even make it?
Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away as Steve set one foot in front of the other and sprinted to the edge of the platform, till he pushed off with one last step and he was soaring through towers of flame and plumes of smoke. He felt like the whole world held its breath for a second. It was like something out of a painting, the way he flew like that. The fire burned the image into Bucky’s mind, and he didn’t think he’d ever want to forget it anyway. This new version of Steve was powerful. More powerful than he could have imagined.
Steve grabbed the platform with one hand and Bucky was immediately on his knees, grabbing under his arms and helping to haul him up onto the semi-solid platform. They were both breathing heavy, staring at each other with wide eyes.
“I didn’t know I could do that.”
“Jesus,” Bucky said with a harsh exhale. “I’d call you a crazy sonofabitch, but I’d never insult your Ma like that.” He pulled back and slowly stood up. “You’re just crazy.”
Steve’s laugh was so out of place in the middle of the burning factory, Bucky almost felt like he was back in some sort of weird dream. Blue eyes landed on his own and a hand clapped onto his shoulder.
“I missed you, Buck. Let’s get out of here.”