Chapter Text
Bucky and weekends rarely saw eye-to-eye. As a pardoned man, they reminded him of everything he lacked—normalcy, a civilian life. As a congressman, they were a maddening symbol of the government's inaction—with everything meaningful grinding to a halt at Friday midday. And now, as a sort-of Avenger, they signified yet another impending meeting with Sam—along with even more time to discuss the resurrection of their old team's name.
Lately, it seemed like that particular issue was the sole purpose of Bucky's Saturdays. Which was honestly absurd, in every sense of the word. So much talking over a name Bucky didn't really care about—except for what he feared might happen to the team if they lost it.
Most days, he suspected it was the only thing keeping them together.
So, for weeks now, he and Sam had alternated between arguments on the topic—either over the phone or in-person—trying to convince each other one way or another.
It was exhausting, even for someone like him.
Especially for someone like him.
Perhaps that was why, when Bucky's phone beeped with a message from Yelena, he was all too happy to jump at the excuse. A hostage situation was more than a good enough reason to miss their lunch, even if Bucky secretly enjoyed the countless new ways people had come up with to combine bread and eggs over the decades. He shot Sam a quick text to explain—Emergency. Sorry.—and slipped it back into his pocket.
The last thing he needed was to see whatever cynical response followed.
And then, once that was done, he started to run. Trust today to be the one day he left his bike at the tower.
Bucky rolled his eyes as he picked up speed.
Weekends.
He found them outside the abandoned warehouse. A large, decrepit building that looked as out of place as the group of people standing beside it. The Thunderbolts or the Avengers, or whatever people wanted to call them.
His team, now.
"Glad you could make it," Yelena said, glancing up from a screen displaying the building's heat signature. Her brow furrowed. "Why are you so sweaty?"
He gave her a look. "I had to run here, okay? I didn't have my bike."
"Super soldier sweat is good," Alexei said, eyeing Bucky approvingly. "Very impressive. But also, very stinky."
Ava made a face. "Yuck. Is that true?"
"What?" Bucky stared at her, unsure if she was being serious. "No."
"It would be fine if it was," Walker said defensively. "Everyone sweats. Even us super-soldiers."
Yelena shook her head at them, exasperated. "Stop. You must all start ignoring Alexei more. At least 90% of the time. Otherwise you'll go crazy. We've talked about this."
"I'm just saying—"
"What's the plan?" Bucky asked, focusing back on Yelena. "And where's Bob?"
"Reading in the van," Yelena replied. "Battery issues, remember? And we're working on a plan. But we chose to wait for you. To hear your input." Somehow, she managed a hint of sarcasm on her last sentence without ever changing her tone.
Bucky raised an eyebrow. Planning wasn't really his thing. "Why?"
She shrugged. "I have no idea. We were… trying something."
"To be honest, I didn't think we should wait," Walker said. "But in the spirit of being a team—"
"Quiet, Walker." Ava turned and addressed Bucky. "There's three heat signatures inside the warehouse. That's it."
Bucky frowned. "That's not enough."
"That's what I thought," Walker said, sending a superior look at Ava. "It could be a trap."
"It's definitely a trap," Bucky agreed dismissively. He sincerely doubted Walker was the only person to suggest it. "The question is, what kind?"
Yelena pressed her lips together. "Is there a good kind of trap in America? One that I'm somehow unfamiliar with?"
The answer was a unanimous, "no."
She raised her eyebrows. "Comforting. So, plan?"
"Well…" Bucky stared up at the warehouse, feeling like he was back with the paparazzi. Plans were always Steve's job. Or Sam's. Or anyone else's but him. He much preferred to do his own thing and, ideally, not be responsible for anyone else. "The plan is…"
He scowled. Why was this so hard? He'd broken Zemo out of prison easily enough. "Maybe if we…"
Alexei raised his arm, cutting across Bucky's mumblings. "I have plan."
They waited. When he didn't elaborate, Yelena sighed. "What's your plan?"
He quirked an eyebrow. "You want to hear my plan?"
"Honestly?" She deadpanned. "No. Not really."
Alexei puffed out his chest. "It is good plan."
Bucky almost took a step back as Alexei gazed at him expectantly. Sometimes, the man was just… a bit much.
"Oh my god." Ava lowered her head into her hands. "I can't believe this is my life."
She looked back up at Bucky. "Will you just ask him what his plan is, please?"
Bucky's expression turned baffled. "Why me?"
"Because he clearly wants you to ask him, man," Walker said, as though it was obvious. He lifted an elbow as if to nudge Ava, then seemed to decide better of it and let it drop.
Bucky looked incredulously at Yelena, his question clear.
"No, no. They are right." Her voice was the epitome of exasperation. "Please, just ask him."
Bucky shook his head and reluctantly turned to Alexei. Apparently, he was the Alexei Whisperer now. Another title he'd never asked for. "Alright. What is your—"
"Ah ha! Mr Soldier, I am glad you asked. I have best plan. The plan is…" Alexei opened both arms wide, dragging the pause out for as long as possible. "Run and punch. For the glory. As always."
There was a disbelieving silence. Yelena shook her head. Bucky—not for the first time—wondered how the hell he'd ended up in this situation.
"Okay…" Walker rubbed his eyes. "So that's less of a plan, and more like a goal? I guess?"
Ava nodded. "Yeah. God, I hate to agree with Walker but…"
She trailed off and closed her eyes. "Actually, who are we kidding? That's our plan, isn't it?"
There was another silence, and Bucky sought out Yelena. He couldn't help it; evidently, he would always look towards the person who reminded him most of Steve. The heart of the group, as Val said.
Christ, Bucky hated when she was right.
After a long moment, Yelena shrugged. "Look, I don't like it. But… you can't deny that it works."
"You know at some point," Walker interjected, glancing between the two with a frown, "we need to elect an official leader. Because I am not loving this whole duo—"
"Fine." Bucky interrupted, ignoring him completely. "Sure. Whatever. That's the plan."
Alexei cheered, reminding Bucky of an overgrown child—not an entirely inaccurate comparison. And only made more evident when, without waiting for the rest of them, he suddenly ran towards the building, both arms raised. With all the excited battle cries, he looked more like he was storming a castle than entering a potentially dangerous warehouse. If not for Bucky's gut telling him this wasn't a hostage situation, he would be having some very serious concerns about their capacity to bring anyone out alive.
As if to demonstrate his point, there was a final shout of "No plan is best plan!" before Alexei disappeared inside.
Rolling his left arm and readying for another sprint, Bucky gave Yelena a pointed look. "How often do you think he'd die if not for the serum?"
Yelena didn't even hesitate. "Oh, every day. Without a doubt, every single day."
And then they ran in after him.
Unsurprisingly, the warehouse was just as run down inside as out. The four of them entered a cavernous room that looked one super-soldier sneeze away from falling apart, which was impressive given the sheer amount of concrete and metal involved in its construction.
There was a series of dull, suspicious stains on the floor that Bucky opted not to inspect too closely.
Also unsurprising was the complete and utter lack of hostages visible anywhere—another point for Bucky's gut.
Somewhat more surprising, though, was the lack of Alexei.
And of anyone else.
"Right…" Walker glanced around the room. Small doors branched off on all sides. "So, where did he go?"
"Wherever it is, it can't be far," Ava said. She shrugged when they glanced at her. "What? Super-soldier or no, the guy's not exactly subtle. Wherever he is, I'm sure we'll—"
There was a sudden crash up ahead; Ava raised an eyebrow. "See?"
Yelena nodded, already running again. "Point taken."
They moved further into the building, Bucky's misgivings growing. He forced aside the vague memories of old training missions—no matter what this was, nothing could ever come close to that.
But seriously... where was everyone? The security? The three heat signatures from earlier?
Ava vanished, then reappeared at his side. Bucky was still getting used to the quantum flicker—not sure whether it made her the most efficient teammate he'd ever had or just the most unsettling.
"See anything?" he asked, assuming she'd gone further in.
It's what he would've done.
"Well, I found Alexei," she said. Bucky slowed slightly so she could keep pace enough to talk. "Fighting some red triangle drone-thing—"
Bucky almost tripped. Please no. "An annoying flying thing? Sounds like an angry blender?"
She nodded, brow furrowed. "That's it. You know it?"
"Fuck." Bucky started speeding up. "Just can't catch a break. Should've known. Of course he's here."
"Who—" Ava reappeared to keep up with him, Walker and Yelena's shouts fading somewhere behind them. Say what you will about the guy; these days, Walker rarely left a teammate alone. "—'se here?"
Bucky opened his mouth as the two skidded around the corner, only to break off at the sight of Alexei triumphantly smashing a small drone into the ground. Red metal shattered against the cement up ahead, splintering like one of AJ's and Cass's toys. Though the stupid thing definitely deserved it after all the time spent buzzing in his face, Bucky tried not to take too much joy in seeing it destroyed.
Still, the moment felt short-lived as three people rounded an opposing corner, disrupting his attempts to commit the visual to memory. It both confirmed his suspicions beyond doubt—and made Ava's question obsolete, because there he was in front of them: the new Cap in full gear, flanked by two others.
At least they'd found the three heat signatures.
"Sam's here," Bucky muttered to Ava, though the answer was now completely unnecessary. "Wilson, that is. Captain America."
"Yeah, I got that, thanks." Ava lowered her voice. "Any idea about the other ones?"
Bucky blinked, observing the other members of the group more closely. He didn't recognise either of them: a young woman in lime-green pants bright enough to hurt his eyes, and a young man with intricate bands across both arms that reminded him of Wakanda. Thankfully, he was saved from responding by Alexei, who immediately finished pummelling Red Wing in favour of running towards his owner.
"BLACK FALCON—CAPTAIN AMERICA!" His arms were in the air again. "IT IS MY HONOUR! YOU HAVE NO IDEA—"
Bucky heard the others slide to a stop behind him.
"Uh… I don't want to be rude," Yelena said, in a nonchalant voice that suggested she really couldn't care less about offending anyone. "But what is Sam Wilson doing here?"
"Yeah." Bucky stared across the room, already regretting everything. How people could genuinely enjoy their weekends was beyond him. "You know, I have the exact same question."