Chapter Text
“Hey Buck. You’ll never guess what came in the mail today.” Sam had just stepped back inside his apartment, phone pressed to his ear. A minute ago he went to collect his mail and found a little note sticking to the inside of his letterbox. Reading it, he immediately called his partner and friend who for once picked up on the first ring.
“A letter?” Bucky deadpanned.
Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, actually it’s a note. But not just any note, it’s a fucking tip off regarding the LAF.”
Bucky frowned. “What does it say?”
“The person who wrote this hid a clue in some farmhouse outside of DC. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“What, that we’re playing Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson now, hunting for clues?”
“How do .. ah never mind, that book came out long before even your ancient ass was born.” Bucky could hear Sam smirking through the phone and chose not to give him the satisfaction of a reply. After a moment of silence Sam continued: “Actually I was thinking this sounds a whole lot like a trap, don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” came the court reply. “So what are you gonna do about it? Are you just gonna ignore it?”
“No, I was thinking the two of us should take a road trip to that farm and throw a little surprise party for whoever wrote that note. Redwing can take a look around before we go. It’ll be totally safe in case you’re scared.”
Bucky squinted his eyes. “I’m not scared.” He mulled over the idea in his head. “If LAF is behind it, then if we’re smart enough we might even be able to catch them. Or it might just be a stupid prank.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Either way, we should check it out. How long till you can be here?”
They had taken a jeep that afternoon for the roundabout two hour drive to the farm, so that they could be done with it asap. Not that they expected to actually find anything. The idea that it was most likely a prank or something stupid sounded more and more likely the longer they had thought about it.
Bucky had offered to drive in case Sam wanted to rest his eyes for a bit, but Sam had adamantly refused: “You drive like the devil, I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes closed for two seconds.” He had snagged the keys out of Bucky’s hand and walked around the car to the driver’s side, before Bucky could protest.
“And you drive like my grandpa.” he muttered under his breath while climbing into the passenger seat. “It’ll take at least two and a half hours with grandpa Wilson at the wheel.”
Sam buckled his seatbelt and put the key in the ignition: “Did you say something?”
“Just drive. I’d like to get there before I turn 107.” Bucky huffed as Sam started the car.
“Put your seatbelt on or we’re not going anywhere.” Bucky rolled his eyes and glared at Sam while reaching over his left shoulder to grab the seatbelt. He buckled up without breaking eye contact. Sam grinned and finally stepped on the gas pedal. God, the man could be insufferable. He somehow knew exactly how to push Bucky’s buttons. But in a weird way he also knew how to soothe his soul. Even though they bickered constantly something akin to an old married couple, they grew very close over the past year.
At some point they had gone from reluctant coworkers to friends and by now Bucky basically went in and out of Delacroix like family. No one could ever replace the friendship he and Steve had, but that wasn’t necessary. He would always cherish the memory of their short time together in the 30's and 40's, but it also felt like a different life entirely. Considering the fact that they had grown up together almost 100 years ago that was no surprise really. However life sometimes has a funny way of making things happen you don’t even realize you need. His friendship with Sam and the welcoming arms of the Delacroix community were two of those things and something he would be eternally grateful for.
They arrived just before sunset and parked a good mile away from the place on the side of the dirt road, so as to be as inconspicuous as possible, just in case a welcome party was waiting for them. Sam sent Redwing up ahead to take a good look around. He really didn’t want to walk into a trap today. Especially with a cryptic message like the one he had received that just screamed trap, walking straight into it would be absolutely humiliating and surely something Rhodey and everyone else would never let him live down.
The farm was surrounded by thick forest on all sides and consisted of the dilapidated house itself, a large stable about 200m to the right was overgrown and half collapsed, the large doors barely clinging to the frames. A shed closer to the edge of the forest by the road was missing part of its roof just like the farmhouse itself and multiple windows were broken on both buildings. A wooden barn close to the shed and to the left of the farmhouse also looked about ready to cave in. In the setting sun the area looked hauntingly beautiful yet the decay exuded an overall creepy atmosphere. Sam shivered inadvertently where he and Bucky were cowered behind some large trees and thick brush.
They had kept about 50m off to the side of the dirt road. “This some Conjuring type shit” Sam muttered to himself.
“Did you pick anything up?” Bucky whispered, peering from around the tree, carefully surveying the farm. Sam looked over, a grin creeping on his face. He wanted to tell Bucky that he did the staring thing again, but then decided to just answer his question.
“Redwing hasn’t recognized anything out of the ordinary. The coast seems clear.” Sam stepped out from behind the tree and into the clearing.
“Let’s have a look around.” he turned around to look at Bucky only to do another 180 as the other man had already marched past him towards the farmhouse: “I’ll head into the house, you look around the other buildings.”
Damn, the man could stalk like a cougar. Sam sighed: “Okay, let me know if you find anything.”
The minutes ticked by without either of them finding anything noteworthy, much less a clue regarding the LAF.
“I think this intel was a bust.” Sam mumbled into his ear piece. “There is absolutely nothing here. I told you this was a prank or some shit.”
“Clear upstairs as well.” Bucky looked around the room he currently stood in. Between some broken old furniture and a whole lot of dust and cobwebs there was nothing of interest in the entire house. He briefly wondered how long no one had lived here.
He heard Sam sigh through his ear piece: “Let me take a look at the barn on the other side. I don’t expect to find anything and then we can leave.”
Bucky nodded, aware that Sam couldn’t see him and began walking out of the room.
“On our way back can we stop by that little diner we saw? I’m starving.” Sam’s voice chimed in his right ear.
“Are you going to let me drive?” Bucky asked.
Sam scoffed: “Never. I actually value my life and I’m not indestructible like some people here seem to think they are.”
“In that case I have no control over where we stop anyway. And for the record I don’t think I’m indestructible.” Bucky retorted.
“Fine, I …” Bucky heard something akin to a quiet groan and then silence.
“Sam?” he all but barked.
„Sam, come in!“ Bucky was headed down the hallway back towards the stairs, hand on his ear piece.
“Sam!” he picked up the pace and was out the farmhouse door in a matter of seconds.
The sun had set as he dashed across the deserted property towards the old barn. Bucky stopped abruptly as he spotted Sam’s feet a few meters behind the large entrance. He wanted nothing more than to race to his partner’s side but he needed to make sure the barn was clear first. Wouldn’t be much help if they were both down. Carefully he peered around the door half expecting to get shot at immediately, but nothing happened. He could neither see nor hear anyone or anything.
Cautiously he stepped into the barn and moved over to Sam’s prone body. He was lying so still Bucky thought for a moment he wasn’t breathing. Kneeling down he immediately felt for Sam’s pulse and was relieved to find it beating strong and steady against his fingers. He couldn’t see any obvious signs of injury, so he rolled Sam over onto his back. Despite some dirt coating the front of his otherwise pristine white suit, there didn’t appear to be anything wrong with his friend.
“What the hell?” he muttered to himself, then louder shaking the other man’s shoulders: “Sam! Wake up!” It quickly became apparent that Sam was out cold, because he didn’t even stir. Bucky adjusted his position next to Sam and in one swift motion pulled the other man up and slung him over his left shoulder. He couldn’t figure out why Sam fell unconscious, but the important thing was that he was alive and stable. He had to get him back to the car and to civilization to get help.
“When you wake up we’re gonna have a talk about Redwing and his scanning abilities.” Bucky turned around, stopping to the side of the barn entrance to make sure there still wasn’t anyone around. When he once again didn’t see anything suspicious he started walking. The dirt road on the other side of the farmhouse would get them back to the car the fastest. No way was he going to stomp back over hill and dale in the dark and with Sam like this. Not like there was anyone around here anyway. This whole job was a complete bust, a total waste of time. Yet he couldn’t help the gnawing feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong.
Still thinking about what could have caused Sam’s sudden collapse, he turned to round the corner of the farmhouse and felt like an iron fist had punched through his back. The sensation took him by complete surprise and his legs buckled, Sam’s additional weight on his shoulder adding to the sudden imbalance.
Bucky gasped and stumbled around the corner, barely catching himself.
What the hell?
He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around what had just happened, but whatever it was, it was not good and he had to get them both out of here right now. Pushing through the spreading pressure in his midsection, he started running.
Sam is helpless.
Protect Sam.
Get Sam to safety.
Finally he could see the car. By now his midsection felt like it had been stuffed with a balloon that someone continuously kept inflating. His shirt, jacket and right pants leg clung unnaturally to his body. He reached the passenger side of the car and flung the door open. Making sure he didn’t bang Sam’s head on the car he carefully lowered him into the seat.
Bending over made the overinflated balloon in Bucky’s belly nearly pop and he couldn’t stifle a groan. Bucky’s right hand automatically went to cradle the area protectively. He grunted when his hand came away feeling wet and sticky.
Fuck! Had he been shot? It had only happened once before and he recalled that experience as completely different. Back then when he was the Winter Soldier, the burning pain had set in straight away. This time the pain was slowly building up. Keeping a hand pressed to his wound and clenching his teeth, Bucky pulled himself upright. Sam was safe in the car and he just thought about getting some gauze out of the trunk when he heard it: the unmistakable sound of an approaching car. Bucky froze.
Shit. So much for first aid.
Maybe it’s just an innocent member of the public who happened to drive down this dark and dingy road late at night .. yeah right.
He was certainly not about to stick around and find out. He couldn’t see the headlights yet, but knew whoever that was must have come to find him and Sam. Hurrying around to the driver’s side of the car, Bucky jumped in, started the engine and sped off.
With any luck the other car had still been far enough away so that it wouldn’t have seen the tail lights disappearing into the forest. Bucky kept checking the rearview mirror meticulously as he raced through the darkness. No headlights anywhere in sight. Maybe he had already been able to shake them.
His panic started to ease a little, only for him to notice how out of breath he was. That feeling of an overinflated balloon in his midsection flared up again and he gasped inadvertently at the intense pressure.
Shit. He wasn’t going to last very long like this.
“Sam?” Bucky reached over to shake the other man’s shoulder, hoping he would finally come around. Hoping he was alright and hoping he could maybe take over driving their getaway car. Nothing.
Another few minutes passed and Bucky had a hard time keeping his eyes open. By now he was taking in mouthfuls of air, but it just wasn’t enough. He pressed his right hand to his stomach, feeling the warm, sticky blood covering his clothes. He knew he had to pull over and find a way to stop the bleeding. Sam always kept an advanced first aid kit in the car, remnants of his days as a pararescue. Only this time Bucky had to help himself.
Checking the rearview mirror one last time, Bucky pulled the car over.
He just had to get to the trunk and apply some gauze quickly. Then he would be good to go on and get Sam out of here and to safety.
He pushed the door wide open and twisting his torso made an effort to stand up, but his legs gave way and he crashed to the ground instead. On his knees groaning and panting hard, Bucky took a moment to collect himself. He was fading fast. Commanding his legs to move he slowly made to pull himself up by the door. It was a herculean effort, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this weak in his entire life. And why was there no air?
“It's the blood loss, dumbass.” a voice that sounded suspiciously like Sam rang out in his head.
Groaning through clenched teeth he finally stood, leaning heavily on the open car door. He blinked a few times, trying to get the world into focus again. Once he could see reasonably straight again, he staggered along the side of the car towards the trunk, still gasping for air like he’d just finished a triathlon. He had just about made it to the backdoor, clinging to the car like a lifeline, when his vision started to white out around the edges and a wave of dizziness rolled over him.
No, please. I’m so close. Have to get ... Sam ...
He tried to gulp in more air in an effort to get his starving brain the oxygen it needed, but it was in vain. As his vision whited out completely the world started spinning around him and he felt weightless for a moment before his upper body impacted with the rear edge of the car and a pain exploded across his midsection that left him breathless. Then another impact as he landed face down in the dirt. He wanted to scream at the agony ripping through his body, but his vocal chords didn’t obey him anymore.