protivvyter | (no subject)

He stumbles out of the base, his flesh arm hanging limp next to him. For the second time, it's been dislocated. This time by being hit by a door.

Behind him, explosions reduce the base to rubble. He's not going to look back. He's not. This was another base that fell to a mysterious force, and he planned for it to stay that way. His metal arm fumbles at his belt, putting a couple of thumb drives into his pockets. He got the information out, and will be taking that to his contact to drop it off.

Bucky starts running, able to feel his body protesting the movement. Still, whatever Zola infected him with did its job and kept him moving. the pain in his shoulder dulled. He's sure there's other wounds on his body, but he's ignoring them for now. They can be handled later.

His internal timer counts down and he stumbles behind a tree just as the main bombs go off in the base behind him. Something stings on his bad shoulder and something else pings off his metal arm. Panting, he puts his forehead to his upraised knees. This is a lot harder than he thought it would be.

Hearing a twig snap, he jumps to his feet, prepared to fight again.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

For months, it seemed like each lead was another cold one that Steve couldn't seem to find an end to. Sometimes, the Avengers would look into the HYDRA bases. Other times it was just Steve and Sam. And each time, they were just a few steps behind Bucky. Each time, they were too late, the bodies still reeking but the fires gone cold. To anyone else, it would look like some team had taken the base out, some tactical force that had many skills. No way could it be the work of one man?

But Steve knew better.

The boys are separated. Sam is somewhere, Steve's not sure where. In the sky perhaps? They'd lost contact thirty minutes ago, something that Steve regretted. And yet, he thought that this time it was different. This time, there was a trail. The blood trail was small, but it was there. Bucky had to be hurt in some way.

He wasn't the tracker that Bucky was, but he had a few skills still left up his sleeves. He hears the explosions going off around him, trying not to be startled by the noise. He's heard worse. Hell, he'd caused worse. He doesn't expect to see Bucky like this, catching him off guard. His eyebrows raise and he reaches up to tug off his mask. "Buck... It's me? It's Steve."

Steve.

For months, Bucky has been one step ahead of him. He's even seen Steve a few times, watching as he found the base just a day or two too late. He's kept it coming because he wants answers. He needs to know what they did to him and how long it's going to last and if it's reversible.

But now he's hurt. This last base had been warned. They knew that the Winter Soldier was coming and they'd planned accordingly.

He knows the man in front of him. Over the months, the memories have been coming back. He remembers more than just the mission now. He also remembers what he did for the mission. He's glad to see Steve up and walking around.

Using his metal hand, he pops the dislocated shoulder back in.

"Steve." He knows the man now and feels comfortable using his name.

"Bucky."

Steve freezes where he's standing, not wanting to aggravate Bucky more. A shiver runs through him as he watches the way his friend is standing. The man before him was not Bucky, not the one he'd grown up with. Different mannerisms, a different person entirely. Steve could only hope that his friend, his Bucky, was still there inside.

His head tilted to the side, surveying the situation. "You're hurt. Let me help you, Buck. Please?" Because the last thing he wants to do is see his friend in any kind of pain. He didn't care what things the Winter Soldier had done.

He just wanted Bucky back.

Bucky still takes that step back. He can't help it. He isn't sure that he wants anyone to touch him, let alone the man who was once his best friend.

Best friends. How long has it been since he thought those words? How long has it been since he could without something in him stopping those thoughts?

"I -" Blood seeps down his side from one of the bullet wounds. He wants to say no. He wants to step back and get away. But practicality wins out. "Alright." He forces himself to stay still. He's not going to run. Not this time.

"I have a camp. It's not far from the base. I have medical supplies and rations." He smiled and moved over to Bucky, gentle in his approach. One arm reached out, slipping under Bucky's shoulder and taking some of his weight. "It's hidden well enough. We'll get you patched up and get out of here, okay?"

He sighed, looking up at Bucky. "You can trust me."

Not that he knows. The last time he'd seen Bucky, things were very different. He isn't trying to do any damage to him now.

"Can you make it or do we need to make a makeshift bandage now? How hit are you?"