ficlet: Found
Set right before the Antman post-credits sequence. Pure speculation. I've seen lots of interpretations of what led up to this, but after brainstorming with counteragent I wanted to write out this one possibility.
"I found him." Sam sounded breathless, like he'd been running. Or fighting.
Steve's hand shook as he gripped the phone hard enough to crack the case. "On my way."
#
"How'd you get here so fast?" Sam asked. "Even Tony's jets can't--"
"Called in a favor." Steve looked out the window. The sky crackled with distant lightning.
"Listen," Sam said, gesturing to the back room. "He wasn't exactly up for talking. I tried."
Steve walked into the other room of the long-abandoned factory and his breath caught in his throat at what he saw. Bucky. Bucky was there. They'd finally found him, after months of searching-months of dead-ends misses and near-misses.
Carefully, Steve took a few steps closer. Bucky's arm was caught in an industrial vice of some sort. He was kneeling on the floor, head slumped forward. "You tranqued him?"
Sam nodded. "Didn't leave me much choice." He pointed at the vice. "He broke out of the cuffs, so I thought maybe that'd hold him longer‚ just until you got here. But he uh..." Sam swallowed. "He tried so hard to break free I thought he was gonna tear that arm right off."
Steve put his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam had found Bucky. Steve wasn't sure he'd ever find the words to thank him. He took a steadying breath and walked further into the room.
"He's been burning through the stuff quick, wouldn't get too close-"
Steve gave him a look.
"Yeah. Doesn't matter, does it?" Sam looked over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go be lookout again. Don't want any other visitors."
Steve was only peripherally aware of Sam leaving the room. He got down on his knees, and inched closer to Bucky, afraid to wake him, but desperate to see his face. He reached a hand out and touched his cheek. "Buck?"
There was no reaction. Bucky's skin felt cold and clammy to the touch. Steve tried again, moving closer, put a hand carefully on Bucky's chest.
Bucky jerked awake. The vice shuddered and creaked as Bucky struggled against it with all his might, eyes wide with terror.
"Stop! Bucky!" Steve stumbled back and held up his hands. "Bucky it's me. It's Steve."
Bucky froze and stared up at Steve. His lips moved, a soundless plea, and his eyes darted around, looking for Sam maybe, or Hydra.
"It's me."
#
Minutes passed in silence. Steve kept himself as still as he could, since every other move made Bucky flinch.
"It's not safe," Bucky said finally. He nodded his chin wearily towards his trapped arm. "Trackers. Need to get them out." He wet his cracked lips "Or they'll...they'll find me."
Steve walked over to his pack and pulled out a bottle of water. He crouched down a few feet away from Bucky and held the bottle out to him.
Bucky gulped the water down greedily, then coughed. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Maybe more.
Steve cracked his knuckles, resisting the urge to ball his hands into fists. It was hard not to, seeing Bucky like this-knowing that Hydra was still out there. "We know people that can help. That can get the trackers out. But you have to trust me."
Bucky looked at him steadily, then asked, "We?"
"The man you fought, with the wings. His name is Sam. He's a friend."
Bucky looked unsure.
Right on queue, the door opened and Sam walked back in. Bucky curled in on himself, drawing his right arm close, like he was trying to make himself smaller. The sight of him that frightened made Steve's gut churn with fury. As soon as they got the trackers out and he made sure Bucky had somewhere safe to stay he was going to personally track down every remaining Hydra agent involved with the Winter Soldier program and show them what a super soldier could really do.
"I found him." Sam sounded breathless, like he'd been running. Or fighting.
Steve's hand shook as he gripped the phone hard enough to crack the case. "On my way."
#
"How'd you get here so fast?" Sam asked. "Even Tony's jets can't--"
"Called in a favor." Steve looked out the window. The sky crackled with distant lightning.
"Listen," Sam said, gesturing to the back room. "He wasn't exactly up for talking. I tried."
Steve walked into the other room of the long-abandoned factory and his breath caught in his throat at what he saw. Bucky. Bucky was there. They'd finally found him, after months of searching-months of dead-ends misses and near-misses.
Carefully, Steve took a few steps closer. Bucky's arm was caught in an industrial vice of some sort. He was kneeling on the floor, head slumped forward. "You tranqued him?"
Sam nodded. "Didn't leave me much choice." He pointed at the vice. "He broke out of the cuffs, so I thought maybe that'd hold him longer‚ just until you got here. But he uh..." Sam swallowed. "He tried so hard to break free I thought he was gonna tear that arm right off."
Steve put his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam had found Bucky. Steve wasn't sure he'd ever find the words to thank him. He took a steadying breath and walked further into the room.
"He's been burning through the stuff quick, wouldn't get too close-"
Steve gave him a look.
"Yeah. Doesn't matter, does it?" Sam looked over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go be lookout again. Don't want any other visitors."
Steve was only peripherally aware of Sam leaving the room. He got down on his knees, and inched closer to Bucky, afraid to wake him, but desperate to see his face. He reached a hand out and touched his cheek. "Buck?"
There was no reaction. Bucky's skin felt cold and clammy to the touch. Steve tried again, moving closer, put a hand carefully on Bucky's chest.
Bucky jerked awake. The vice shuddered and creaked as Bucky struggled against it with all his might, eyes wide with terror.
"Stop! Bucky!" Steve stumbled back and held up his hands. "Bucky it's me. It's Steve."
Bucky froze and stared up at Steve. His lips moved, a soundless plea, and his eyes darted around, looking for Sam maybe, or Hydra.
"It's me."
#
Minutes passed in silence. Steve kept himself as still as he could, since every other move made Bucky flinch.
"It's not safe," Bucky said finally. He nodded his chin wearily towards his trapped arm. "Trackers. Need to get them out." He wet his cracked lips "Or they'll...they'll find me."
Steve walked over to his pack and pulled out a bottle of water. He crouched down a few feet away from Bucky and held the bottle out to him.
Bucky gulped the water down greedily, then coughed. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Maybe more.
Steve cracked his knuckles, resisting the urge to ball his hands into fists. It was hard not to, seeing Bucky like this-knowing that Hydra was still out there. "We know people that can help. That can get the trackers out. But you have to trust me."
Bucky looked at him steadily, then asked, "We?"
"The man you fought, with the wings. His name is Sam. He's a friend."
Bucky looked unsure.
Right on queue, the door opened and Sam walked back in. Bucky curled in on himself, drawing his right arm close, like he was trying to make himself smaller. The sight of him that frightened made Steve's gut churn with fury. As soon as they got the trackers out and he made sure Bucky had somewhere safe to stay he was going to personally track down every remaining Hydra agent involved with the Winter Soldier program and show them what a super soldier could really do.