Chapter Text
"You enjoyed this. Admit you enjoyed it,” Steve says, out of breath, grinning.
Bucky shakes his head, a ghost of a smile on his face. "Doesn't mean I enjoy waking up early."
Steve has been pushing him to go jogging with him in the morning. In the very early morning. It's Steve's favorite hobby, apparently. And of course, Bucky enjoys it, he would enjoy doing anything with Steve, really. Does he enjoy waking up at six in the morning, though? Definitely not. Although he tends to forget about it once the adrenaline hits.
It has been over a year since he came back from Wakanda, and there are certain, very small things that give him the sense that he really is free. Waking up whenever he wants is one of those things, and it took him some time to get used to it. He used to wake up— gasping or screaming from a nightmare, and just feel incredibly anxious. He would feel like there was something he should do, like it wasn't right to return to sleep again. So when he woke up from a nightmare, there was no returning to sleep again.
More recently, though, he has been training himself to get back to sleep, regardless of whether he woke up in the middle of the night because of a nightmare or because he can never have a normal, uninterrupted night's sleep. He convinces himself that he can do that. He has free will now. He can do anything he wants.
And he loves it. He loves staying in bed—though it is not really the bed, he still sleeps is on the floor—until he feels like he has had enough. One time, he didn’t move from the floor and stayed under the cover until 1PM, and had felt like a rebel. It was almost as if he was proving something to himself. You can do that now, see? he would tell himself. No one is going to electrocute you, wipe you, or beat the fuck out of you.
After seventy years of being with Hydra, the freedom is still mind-blowing to him that it gets overwhelming at times.
Steve pats him on the shoulder. "Still won't give up until you come with me every day."
Bucky opens the door to his apartment, still smiling. “I can do two or three days a week, that's all. You know how much I enjoy sleeping now."
He has his own apartment, which is also something that he needed some time to get used to. When he first got back, he stayed with Steve in his place in Brooklyn for about a week before he finally got his apartment. And having his own place was also overwhelming, in all the good ways, at first. After all that he had been through, and after all the pardon procedures, he really needed a place that was just his. He needed the quiet and the silence. He needed to be alone.
Steve still stays over most times, though, but that is something he can never complain about, even though he didn't like it in the beginning. He wanted him to leave once they slept because he knew what was going to happen when he closed his eyes and drifted into unconsciousness, and he didn't want his friend to witness that.
They got into fights about it all the time, of course. When the nightmare was really bad and Bucky woke up screaming his lungs out, he would grow distant the next morning, staying quiet and barely even meeting Steve’s eyes. He knew that hurt Steve, but he did not do it willingly. So they fought. And in their last fight regarding this, Bucky had came so close to punching Steve in the face with his metal arm.
Bucky knew that all Steve wanted was for him to open up and tell him about his nightmares, his burdens, and the weight he carried, all of it. But all Bucky wanted was for Steve to ignore his nightmares, and leave him be when he was having one of his bad days. He was used to the darkness that settled in his mind long ago, and a part of him knew it wasn’t really going to go away. He just wanted Steve to get used to it, too.
So they established a routine regarding the nightmares without really noticing that they did, and it had begun after the last fight they had. When it was a normal nightmare and Bucky would just wake up gasping for air, Steve would act like he didn't hear or witness anything. When it was a terrible, horrible nightmare, and Bucky would wake up screaming, Steve would ask him once “You alright, pal?", to which Bucky would always reply saying "yes" in a voice that was very shaky and barely audible. Bucky was also fine with Steve waking him up from these kinds of nightmares, he was fine with him bringing him water and making him feel grounded. Because they are that bad, and most times, he would wake up incredibly disoriented, unable to figure out where he is, and sometimes, who he even is.
He just wasn't fine with Steve asking him if he wanted to talk about it afterwards and pushing him to open up. How could he? Anything he would say was going to make Steve miserable, and opening up wasn’t something he thought he was capable of doing, especially with Steve.
He can’t talk about the lives he took. He can’t tell Steve that the people he killed haunt his dreams, that it feels like they will haunt him all his life. Some days, he feels like his heart is going to get crushed from the weight of it all. They were too many. And when he dreams about them, he wakes up wishing he were dead.
He can’t tell Steve that once, he didn’t kill a young man quickly enough. He should have done it instantly, as required by his handler, but for some reason, it took him twenty seconds to do it. For that, they tortured him for twenty hours. They divided the team and each one of them got two hours, so they wouldn't get tired. He didn't get to rest for even a minute. It was twenty hours, full of waterboarding, electrocution, flogging, beating, and many other creative ways that each individual came up with.
And when Bucky dreams about the torture, he always wakes up horrified and frightened that he is back with Hydra again. These nightmares leave him unfocused and disoriented for a while, and waking up and not knowing where he is always leaves him unsettled.
He can’t tell Steve that sometimes, as punishment, he wasn't allowed to sleep. Each time his eyes would close, the collar around his neck would beep with electricity that tore through his whole body. One time, they kept him like that for four days, and he thought he was going to lose his mind.
When he dreams about the wipes or the electrocution, he wakes up feeling like his body is burning, and it takes him a very long while to not feel like every muscle of his body is on fire. And then he has to go through his memories, to remind himself that he remembers, that he has his memories back.
For Bucky, there is stuff that is so much worse. Stuff he could never say out loud. Stuff that he doesn't even allow his mind to think about. And if he can’t think about them without feeling like he wants to shred his own skin, how could he ever tell Steve about them?
Steve chuckles. "Oh, I know, and yet you only get what—three hours of sleep?"
"Very funny," Bucky replies, pouring down water for both of them. "I got five hours of sleep yesterday actually."
Steve drinks it all in one gulp. “And how many times did you wake up in those five hours?"
Three times. He kept count.
"Doesn't matter," Bucky tells him. "What matters is that I slept for five hours."
"See, I’m not sure that's correct, what matters is—"
"The quality of sleep. I know. God, it's like you and Dr. Raynor have your own sessions together," Bucky says, walking over to the kitchen counter. "Coffee?"
"Yes, please," Steve replies. “What’s that?" he asks, holding a large white envelope in his hand.
Bucky turns on the coffee machine, then glances at the envelope in Steve's hands. "I have no idea," he says, his eyebrows furrowed. "Is that mine?"
"Uh, yes? It was on the kitchen table. It says to James Buchanan Barnes. That's you, isn't it?"
He walks over to Steve, taking the envelope from him. "Unfortunately," he says, ignoring the scowl on Steve's face in response to his words. "It was on this table? I didn't notice it. I never get any—"
He feels Steve getting slightly nervous at what he just said. "Someone broke in?" Bucky feels nervous too, when the realization hits him.
"Seems like it," he says, opening the envelope.
And inside the envelope, is only a picture of someone.
Anna.
She is tied to a chair, her hair falling over most of her face. Her eyes are not looking at the camera, but they are filled with anger. She doesn't look harmed, but she is in a Hydra base, because he would know these walls anywhere. Whoever took the picture made sure he would know exactly where she is.
He feels the world collapsing around him. "No," he chokes out. "No. God, no—”
"What is it?" Steve asks, his voice terrified."Oh, God."
Bucky turns the picture around, to see if there's anything written, and of course, there is.
You know where she is, soldier. If you come, we let her go. If you are late, we are going to begin the three-phases punishment on her. You remember that, don't you?
Come alone or we put a bullet through her head.
It’s Hydra. It’s fucking Hydra.
He knows it is them. Even if it makes no sense, even if it’s against all logic. He knows, in his heart, that this is Hydra.
His shaky hand drops the photo. He can’t breathe. His lungs are collapsing and he can’t get any air inside. His whole body is shaking and trembling, his knees buckle and he falls to the ground.
The three phases punishment.
Steve tries to hold him as he falls. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he says. He kneels in front of him and places his hand on his arm. "Breathe, buddy. You know how to do it."
He knows. They have done it countless times before. He counts on his fingers, breathing with each one. He reminds himself that he is free. He is not a killer anymore. He is not the Winter Soldier anymore. He is not with Hydra. He is with Steve. He is with Anna. He is with Sam.
But it is not working, because Anna is with Hydra. Hydra, which they believed to be gone, who are threatening to use a messed-up method of torture on her. A method of torture that was made for him, a super soldier. How can he ever get any air inside his lungs when she’s with them?
"Bucky….Bucky, look at me, please," Steve urges, holding his shoulders. "We’ll figure it out, I promise. We’ll save her. Nothing will happen. We have the Avengers, remember?"
Still not working, because he knows he can’t take anyone with him. He knows he can’t risk it. He can’t risk her life. He can never do that.
"Breathe, buddy. It’s okay,” Steve says, and Bucky can feel Steve’s hands shaking while holding him. "Breathe."
He tries to, he really tries to, and it comes out as a horrible gasp for air. He closes his eyes and tries to focus. He has to get it together for Anna. He has to control himself.
There's no time, he tells himself. He can’t be late.
He can’t be late. He can’t be late. He can’t be late.
He lets that ground him. He opens his eyes, and tries to breathe again, and it's working. He is getting air inside his lungs. He holds Steve's arms strongly as he tries again and again, until he can finally breathe without gasping for air.
But it takes him five seconds, he remembers the three phases punishment, and then gags and runs to the bathroom to throw up.
When he’s done retching, he flushes the toilet and washes his face. He takes a deep breath and leans over the sink, staring at his right hand as he struggles to make it stop shaking.
Steve is standing by bathroom door, looking at him with concern and waiting for him patiently to finish. “I’ll call Tony," Steve says. "I’ll tell him to gather whoever he can and we’ll meet them at the Tower."
“No," he says, his voice shaky. He closes his eyes and rests both his hands on the sink, trying to calm down so he can think clearly. "You— you read what they wrote, Steve. I’m going alone."
"You can’t go alone, Bucky," he tells him. "We don't know who those are and we don't know—"
"Hydra. It's Hydra," Bucky says. He opens his eyes and looks at his friend. His best friend, whom he has to convince to let him go.
Bucky continues talking before Steve replies. "I know what you are going to say. Hydra is gone. Pierce is dead. But I don’t know….maybe they’re not entirely gone, maybe there’s still some of them left. And maybe we were wrong. She's in a Hydra base. The three phases of fucking punishment was a torture method used by them. It's Hydra."
Steve breathes, his eyes are filled with sadness. "On you."
Bucky looks away. He focuses on the sink instead of Steve's eyes. "Yes," he says. And now he has to leave before they do it to her. "I have to go."
He can’t let anything happen to her. Not her. Not the warmest, most beautiful person he has ever met.
What has he done?
He tries to walk out of the bathroom, but of course, Steve blocks his way. “Buck," Steve pleadingly says. "I’ll come with you. Just me. I can’t let you go on your own, even if no one can’t control your mind anymore. I can’t leave you again, you know that.”
Bucky doesn't want to fight with Steve, not when he doesn't know what's going to happen, so he tries to be calm. He tries to breathe, reminding himself that Steve must be terrified too.
"Steve," he says, his voice unsteady. He looks into his eyes, even though he would rather look anywhere else at the moment. "If you were in my place, you’d go alone. You know what they’re capable of. I can’t….you don't understand what sort of fucked up torture that is, and normal human beings would never—“
"Then tell me," Steve says. "What exactly are they threatening to do to her?"
They are standing too close. He can’t do this. "Let me go, Steve.”
Steve slams the bathroom door with his hand. "Put yourself in my place too, Bucky! How am I supposed to just let you walk into this alone? We don't even know what they want. And what are you planning to do? You’re just going to go and hand yourself over to them? We need to think clearly, please.”
Bucky can’t stay calm anymore. "What the fuck do you want me to do, huh? Should I let you come and then once they know I’m not alone I find Anna's brains blown off? Or how about we just stay here and make a plan, and by the time I go, I find her destroyed by their torture, which is really going to be worse than death for her. So what exactly do you want me to do?"
"We should have a plan and even if you want to go alone, we could—"
“What plan are you talking about?” he asks, frustrated. “What fucking plan, Steve? They said they’ll start torturing her if I’m late. We don’t have time for this.”
“You know these are probably empty threats. If they want you, then they’re not going to hurt her.”
“And that’s a risk I’m never going to take.”
Steve sighs. “Look, at least let me call Sam. We’re not thinking—“
Bucky runs his hands through his hair and explodes at Steve. "For fuck's sake, Steve! Do you know what they’re going to do?” he snaps, his voice shaking from all the anger tearing through him.
”What, Bucky? What are they going to do?” Steve asks, desperate.
“They said three phases, didn’t they? So first,” his voice breaks from how shaky it is. “First,” he repeats, trying to force his voice to be steady, “they’re going to break her body. Not to kill her, just enough so everything that happens after hurts more.”
“Second,” he says, his voice shaking even more. “They go for her back. And it doesn’t stop at just flogging her. They make sure the skin is already torn before they start, so that every strike feels unbearable. Because, Steve…all of this—it wasn’t meant for a normal human being, it was meant…it was meant for me. And if it always succeeded in breaking me then…” His breath catches, painfully. “Then what the fuck is it going to do to her?”
He has to stop. He is struggling to breathe again, and his eyes are getting glassy with angry tears.
Steve looks horrified and speechless, which makes Bucky even more angry. “What? You didn't think it was that bad? What exactly did you think they were going to do?"
Bucky knows that’s not fair. He knows it's not Steve's fault. He knows Steve's heart is already breaking. But he is so, so fucking angry.
Steve gulps. "Bucky—"
"I didn't even tell you what the third part is.” He is still breathing heavily, his heart feels like it's going to explode. "But you really should’ve guessed it by now."
But of course, Steve looks at him like he is still trying to figure it out. "What?"
He wants to throw up again, but he swallows and tries to hold it in. "They’re going to—“ he tries to say it but fails. His breath gets stuck in his throat. “They’re going to—fuck, fuck," he fails again, and he runs his hands angrily over his face. “I need to go, Steve.”
Somehow, the realization finally hits Steve. “No,” he says in horror. “No, Bucky, no—please say that you don’t actually mean that.”
Bucky rests his arms on the wall and tries to breathe, he tries to let his anger go. He just broke Steve, he knows that. He always told himself, and even told Sam, that he was never going to tell Steve anything, and now he threw everything in his face in the worst possible way.
He wants to cry. He wants to sink into the floor and just cry, because he can’t believe he just told Steve that. Steve, who he always struggled to open up to, just because he never wanted to burden him with everything that happened to him. And he knows this moment will haunt him all his life, he knows he will drown in guilt because that’s how Steve found out in the end.
So he places his hands on Steve's arms and takes a deep breath. "I’m sorry," his voice trembles. "But now you understand why I have to leave. Now. I can’t take you. I can’t take the Avengers. I don't know what they want. I—I don't think they want me dead, they would’ve tried to get that over with before if that's the case. They need me for something. Maybe they want to recreate the serum, maybe they want to test the new arm or take it, I have no idea. But they need me alive, Steve, so I guess...there's that. I won't surrender until they let Anna go. Once she's out, you can do whatever you want to get me out, okay?"
Bucky knows Steve is trying not to cry, because it takes him a couple of seconds to say anything. "Okay, buddy," Steve finally says. "It’s the one in D.C., right?”
"Yeah," he replies. "But Steve, you can’t even think of doing anything if Anna is not out. You can’t risk her life. Understood?"
"Yes, understood."
Bucky grabs Steve for a hug. "I’m sorry," he says. He doesn't exactly know what he is apologizing for, but he knows he is mostly apologizing for telling Steve stuff he knows is going to haunt him.
"What are you apologizing for, Bucky? I’m the one who is sorry. I’m so sorry. I can't even….” Steve trails off, unable to finish his words. He wraps his arms tighter around him. "You’re going to get her out. It's going to be okay."
Bucky’s throat tightens. "I hope so."
He heads out after changing his clothes and doesn’t bother to take any weapons with him. He doesn’t even take his phone, he knows they will search him once he gets there anyway. He does not look back at Steve, who is standing by the entrance of the building. He gets on his motorcycle and drives away as fast as he can.
He tries not to think about what they could have done to Anna, or what they might do to her.
He tries not to think about the fact that he is going back to Hydra, willingly.
But the one thing he can’t stop his mind from thinking about is the fact that Hydra will have leverage over him now, and he can’t even begin to imagine what they might do with that.