Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘Please don’t do this,’ Steve said, his head bowed as if in prayer in front of his own personal deity. He’d said the same words several times in the past few days, but now was the last chance he had, and he would never forgive himself if he didn’t try one last time. So here he was, on his knees, in supplication. He wasn’t asking anymore, he was begging. Anything to make the other man reconsider.

‘Steve…’ Bucky’s voice floated down from where he was stood above him. He didn’t sound angry or annoyed, merely just completely resigned... or perhaps he sounded tired. That sent a shot of guilt through Steve’s form. Bucky had obviously known that Steve would try this at least one more time before the morning, and he wasn’t prepared to waste time getting angry. Steve felt him move and a moment later he felt Bucky’s hand under his chin, lifting his gaze to look at him, now level with him as Bucky had also sunk to his knees. They must look like two dancers in tableaux, knee to knee, and face to face, the moment stretching long between them.

‘You know why I need to do this,’ whispered Bucky, his beautiful grey eyes looking in between each of his. ‘I can’t risk someone else taking advantage of the monster that’s inside me. He’s still in there, and all it takes is for someone to say those words, and people will end up dead. What if the next person has even worse intentions than the last?’

Steve sighed, leaning his head onto Bucky’s shoulder, not wanting to hear it, even though he knew it was truth. ‘I could keep you safe. I could keep everyone safe.’

Bucky sighed and put his arms around him. Steve couldn’t help but well up as he felt that familiar weight and warmth, wondering how long it would be before he felt those arms encircling him again after this night. He felt the tears begin to fall as Bucky held him, and he wanted nothing more than to cling to him and never let him go. This definitely felt like it was the wrong way around and that he should be the one comforting the other man, but right now he couldn’t stop his tears at the thought of losing him again.

He'd only just got him back, and now he was losing him again.

*

Steve knew his eyes were red, and he knew that everybody in the room would be able to tell that he had been crying, but he honestly did not care. If they knew he’d been crying because he was losing his best friend, the person he cared most about in the entire world, his other half, then he didn’t see any shame in that whatsoever. Let them see his tears. Let them judge him, if they must, for showing his heart outside of its cocoon.

After he’d said that he could keep everyone safe, Bucky had let him cry, before he manoeuvred them both so that he was sitting with his back against the wall, and Steve was practically sitting in his lap. They’d sat like this a few times when Steve had been a lot smaller, and he supposed it might look slightly absurd the sizes they were now, but he hadn’t cared. He’d just wanted to be held. Bucky had said that it wasn’t enough that Steve was willing to risk his own life to keep everyone safe; that that was too high a price to pay. Steve had wanted to argue, but he knew that Bucky was right. They both knew there were no winners when Captain America and the Winter Soldier went head-to-head, and that they would fight each other to a standstill, with one or both of them ending up in a hospital bed or worse, collateral damage littered around and about their fighting forms.

Until the man hidden in Bucky’s mind was exorcised, then he wasn’t willing to take the risk that he would hurt anyone else.

‘Allow me the dignity of my choice,’ he’d said.

Those words had caused Steve to hiss in physical pain, wondering how on earth Bucky had managed to parrot something that Peggy had said to him, all those years ago, the first time that he’d lost Bucky. He’d never told Bucky about that, so how had he known the words?

‘It’s just always feels like we’re saying goodbye,’ he’d cried into Bucky’s non-metal shoulder, soaking his t-shirt.

‘One day we won’t be doll,’ Bucky had murmured into his hair. ‘One day we’ll be reunited and then I’ll never let you go.’

‘I’ll never stop searching for a way to free you,’ Steve had vowed. ‘I know I’ve said it before, but I want to say it again like this…’

He’d freed himself from Bucky’s arms then and kneeling before him, had taken both of the other man’s hands – one metal, one flesh – between his, before he’d spoken again. ‘I, Steve Rogers, do hereby solemnly vow, that I will free you. I will never give up, not until you are beside my side once again, a free man.’

Then it had been Bucky’s turn to let a tear fall, his forehead creasing as he’d begun to cry. ‘Oh Steve.’

He’d leaned forward and kissed him then, in a kiss that had tasted of lost time and of tears. Steve had never wanted to let him go, from the kiss or from his life. He wished he could freeze time there, and have them both stay as a picture forever.

That had been an hour before sunrise this morning. Now, two hours later, he was standing in one of Shuri’s labs, waiting. The only people in here, besides himself, were Shuri and another scientist, along with the hateful machine that he couldn’t even bear to look at right now, now that the moment was upon them.

This was Bucky’s choice. He had to be strong for him.

A few moments later and the door behind him opened. He turned as Bucky walked in, closely followed by T’Challa. Bucky was wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a long-sleeved white Henley, a few buttons undone at the collar. He wasn’t wearing shoes or socks. Steve felt sick.

‘Thank you for being here,’ Bucky said, stepping close to him, his warmth felt across the smallest of distances. ‘I know this is hard for you, but it makes it a lot easier for me, knowing that you’re with me.’

‘Until the end of the line,’ Steve murmured back, almost by reflex. What wasn’t a reflex, however, was how much he meant it. He’d made his vow last night, and he was going to keep it, as surely as if he’d carved the words into his skin.

‘Ready, Bucky?’ Shuri asked, stepping up, her eyes moving gently between the pair of them.

‘As I’ll ever be,’ said Bucky, a small smile slipping up the side of his face before he reached out and embraced Steve one last time. ‘Don’t do anything stupid whilst I’m gone.’

Steve would have laughed if it were possible, at the absurdity of the repetition of Bucky’s words. Instead, he let off a choked off cough, to hold back his need to cry again. He didn’t think he had enough energy left inside of him to start crying again. If he did, he might ask Shuri if she had another one of those machines, to go into the ice alongside Bucky, and only be woken when they could be whole and together again. Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible, and he had to keep fighting for the man with his arms around him. Damn everyone who had made this the only option for him, that had forced him into the choice. Steve had put most of them into ground, but he swore before God and before Bucky that if any of HYDRA were left living, then they would find their doom from his hand.

‘Punk,’ Steve muttered into Bucky’s neck, back in the present moment.

‘Jerk,’ Bucky said back, kissing the curve of his neck softly before stepping back, before looking around. ‘Okay, Shuri.’

With that Shuri stepped up, and using a small device held in her hand, she ran it around the seam of Bucky’s metal shoulder. There was a loud clicking sound, and then, gently holding the limb, Shuri was able to detach the clunky soviet metal from its socket. Bucky faltered slightly as it was pulled away, instantly feeling ten pounds lighter on his left side, Steve imagined. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and steady the man, but now that Bucky had let him go, he knew that he had to let him do this under his steam. Steve crossed his arms tight across his chest to stop himself from moving.

‘We will have a better one of these waiting for you when you return,’ promised T’Challa, taking the detached limb from Shuri and looking at it with something close to distaste.

Bucky half-smiled again. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

Shuri gestured behind him then and Bucky turned, stepping onto the platform of the machine that looked not-unlike the vita ray machine that had been the vital part of Project Rebirth all of those decades ago, Steve thought. Of course, this one was more modern looking, and the glass panel at the front was actually translucent so that those on the outside could see the subject inside of the pod. Bucky settled himself, as comfortable as was possible, against the backboard of the machine, his head supported by the soft rests either side of his face.

‘As discussed, Bucky, I’m going to buckle this around your waist, and then around your calves and shoulder. These are not hard restraints,’ said Shuri, holding up a length of material with a buckle that looked a little like an airplane seatbelt. ‘They’re merely there to keep your body still in case of any movement during the cryo process. Is that alright?’

Bucky nodded, looking down at the things she held. Steve had been there when they’d initially discussed this, but he felt a rush of gratitude that the princess was asking his partner again, making sure that he was alright with every step of the process, even though he’d been the one to request it.

Once Bucky had nodded, the other scientist in the room, who Steve didn’t know the name of, stepped up to help Shuri, securing both of Bucky’s legs and remaining arm to the backboard, whilst Shuri secured the belt around his waist, pulling it tight so Bucky wouldn’t be at risk of moving whilst he had no control over his limbs. Steve took a deep breath, trying to push down the mental images that flashed across his mind of finding Bucky strapped in a similar manner to a table in Azzano, a lifetime ago. That was different, he reminded himself. That had been a torture chamber masquerading as a medical facility. This was a place of safety. Bucky was safe here.

‘I’m going to give you an anaesthetic,’ said Shuri. ‘So, you won’t be able to feel anything. Ready?’

Bucky looked directly at him then, and Steve finally stepped forward at this signal, taking his hand in his, feeling the warmth and the flow of his blood, along with the beating of his heart. Remember, remember. That was all it said to him.

‘Now I am,’ Bucky said, his fingers not letting go of Steve’s, even as the blond man stepped to the side slightly to allow Shuri access to Bucky’s arm for the injection. Shuri looked into Bucky’s eyes one last time before she applied the anaesthetic, giving him time to back out, but his mouth was fixed in a thin line, and after one last look at Steve and the tiniest, almost imperceptible, nod of his head, he closed his eyes. Steve’s chest felt like it was full of sand, but he battled to keep his breathing steady because he knew that Buck could still hear him, and that he needed him to be strong for him right now.

Steve felt the moment the anaesthetic took over, as Bucky’s fingers went limp around his own, the other man drifting down into his dreamless sleep. He didn’t release him.

‘Steve…’ Shuri murmured after a moment. ‘You have to let him go, so I can finish the process.’

Steve nodded, hearing her, but found himself unable to let go of Bucky’s unmoving hand. He jumped as he felt someone put their hand on his shoulder, and he realised that T’Challa had stepped up beside him.

‘It’s alright, Captain Rogers, he is safe here. We will free him, together. I promise.’

Steve nodded, his eyes blurring with unshed tears once again at the uttered promise from the King. He knew this, he knew all of this, but still he did not want to let Bucky go. He’d let him go once before, and the loss had nearly killed him.

This wasn’t like that.

He needed to hold onto that. This was not the same. This time was only temporary. As quick as he was physically able to make it, as far as he was concerned. Repeating that thought over and over again in his mind, he took a step forward and, despite the audience, placed a soft kiss on Bucky’s unresponsive lips. He knew the other man would not mind at all, both of them having woken many a time to the other’s soft and gentle kisses.

‘See you soon, Buck,’ he whispered. He steeled himself, locking a cage around his wildly beating heart and terrified lungs, and then he stepped back, letting go of Bucky’s hand.

T’Challa’s comforting hand on his shoulder and his stoic presence beside him didn’t move as Shuri quickly closed the machine, almost as if she were worried that Steve would try and step in again. He didn’t move. The machine clicked closed and sealed tight with a locked code. From there it took only moments.

Shuri stepped aside, pressing a few buttons on the holo computer in front of her. Steve wasn’t really watching though; he was too busy staring at Bucky’s face. He looked peaceful, asleep. He wasn’t in pain, wasn’t aware, and soon he would be free. For him it would feel like seconds. There was the tiniest noise of a surge in power, and then the inside of the glass was frosted over, ice dancing white and pretty, like so many May blossom flowers, spreading across the surface. Bucky didn’t stir as icicles quickly clung to his eyelashes and eyebrows, the cold holding him in a static embrace until somebody called him forth again. Here he would be, here he would sleep, until the day when Steve stood in this exact place once again and waited for his life to begin again.

Really, Steve reflected a few days later, Bucky wasn’t the only one who’d placed his life on hold. His own had stopped as well as the ice had clung to the other part of his soul. Knowing that Bucky was here, waiting for him to free him, Steve’s own life had become the stuck second hand on a watch that needed a replacement battery, ticking the same second over and over again.

He was a ghost, waiting in that lab, for the day when they both would wake, and time would start once more.

Chapter Text

In any other circumstances he would have been utterly devastated to have been confronted with a scene like this.

Bucky was laid out in front of him on a medical table positioned flat, his eyes closed, hair fanned out about his neck and shoulders, and he was utterly still. There was a soft blanket pulled up to his waist, even though he was still wearing the black sweatpants and white tank that Steve remembered oh so well. Looking like this, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought the other man was a corpse laid out before being transported to the morgue or the undertakers.

As it was, it was the exact opposite. Instead of being taken into the arms of death, Steve was waiting in this windowless room for Bucky to awake and come back to him.

He’d been there when Shuri had deactivated the cryo machine and watched as four of the Dora Milaje had freed Bucky’s form from the restraints that had bound him whilst he was in stasis, before carrying his motionless body into this side room and laying him gently here. They had then retreated outside to guard the door.

There was only one way in and out of this room and had been chosen for this very specific purpose because – if they were wrong in what they were about to do (and Steve prayed to a God he only half believed in these days that they weren’t wrong) – then Bucky would need to be contained. A single door room, guarded by a handful of the indomitable Dora Milaje, was the perfect place to do this. There was honestly nowhere safer on earth.

Steve had been standing here for nearly an hour and had watched and listened as life very slowly returned to Bucky’s form. When the brunette had come out of the machine, tiny icicles had been clinging to the ends of his hair, his nailbeds, eyelashes, and eyebrows. These had since melted away, which made it look a little as if Bucky was crying with his eyes closed. Either that, or sweating, despite the chill. Other than those miniature icicles, Bucky was completely dry, because such was the nature of cyrogenesis that it was a dry process, making it safer for the person inside.

As he’d stood here, Steve had been able to hear Bucky’s heart beginning to beat once again, very slowly at first, less than one beat per minute, slowly picking up in pace as the seconds had slid on by. Now it was at about thirty beats a minute, one every two seconds. It wasn’t going to get too much faster, as Bucky being ridiculously fit and imbibed with the bastardised super soldier serum meant that he had a low resting heart rate. Steve could also hear him breathing slowly, in and out, and could see that muscular chest going up and down with each expansion of his lungs. But still, he slept. Steve had never been present, obviously, when Bucky had come out of cryo before, so he wonder how long it would take. Shuri had estimated anywhere between thirty minutes and two hours.

In the end it took exactly eighty-two minutes for Bucky to take a shuddering deep breath and softly open his eyes, not moving as they flicked left and right, taking in the fact that he was actually awake again, and that that this was real. It took him about twenty seconds to focus on the fact that there was another person in the room.

‘Welcome back, Buck,’ said Steve softly, from where he was sitting a metre or two away from the medical bed that Bucky was reposed on. He was trying to keep his emotions in check, but he couldn’t disguise the leap of joy he’d felt as the other man had stirred, and his eyes had opened for the first time. Oh, how he’d missed those eyes. Those beautiful and wise pools of icy blue, that sometimes seemed to harden to grey when he was concentrating or determined had been in his mind every waking moment and in his dreams. Now he was so happy to see them in reality once again.  

‘Stevie,’ Bucky croaked, his throat and vocal cords working for the first time in a long time. Steve grinned at the pet name and quickly got up, bringing forward a glass of water with a straw in it. Shuri had thought that Bucky would be thirsty after so long in cryo, even though they’d obviously been making sure his nutrient load was balanced as he slept in stasis. He hadn’t had anything by-mouth for a long time, so naturally would find it difficult to speak at first. It took him a moment to sit up, not taking Steve’s offered hand of help, testing each of the different muscles and joints in his body to pull himself into a sitting position. It apparently didn’t escape Bucky’s notice that he was still down an arm as he reached out with his right hand to take the cup and have a drink. Steve watched as his throat bobbed slowly as his sipped.

‘That’s better,’ he said, after he’d taken his fill and passed the cup back to Steve, who placed it down on the table by the door. Bucky was looking at him a little nervously then, his eyes running across his form, as if trying to take in any changes that might be obvious to him as he came back to himself. ‘You’ve grown a beard.’

Steve nodded in agreement as he brought a hand up to his chin and stroked the neatly shaped growth found there. ‘Had this for a while now, Buck.’

Buck nodded and swallowed, the nervous and haunted look still very much present in his eyes. ‘How long has it been?’

‘Longer than I ever wanted,’ Steve said quickly, ‘but probably not as long as you’re fearing. It’s been exactly eight months and seventeen days since we put you under. It would have been less than that if I’d have had my way, but Shuri wanted to… make sure.’

‘Good,’ said Bucky firmly, without losing the nervous look. ‘It’s done then?’

‘That’s what we hope.’

‘Hope?’ Bucky all but growled as he tasted the word on his tongue. ‘You woke me on the premise of hope?’

Steve didn’t back down. ‘Hope is all I’ve had in the months you’ve been gone, Bucky. And Shuri finally allowed me to initiate your waking, because she believes that what we’ve done has worked. We won’t truly know, however, until we test it…’

Bucky’s face blanched at that, all of the blood running out of his cheeks and leaving him looking like a ghost, his hands shaking slightly. ‘No… we can’t. W-what if he’s still in there? What if it didn’t work? We can’t “test” it on the promise of hope!’

Steve stepped forward then, and pulled Bucky to his (bare) feet, before wrapping his arms around the other man and leaning in, forehead to forehead, the other man allowing every movement. He’d seen Bucky on the way towards a panic attack before, back in the day, in the 1940s, and knew that a good way of helping him avoid it was through grounding physical touch, and through explaining the reality of a situation before his imagination ran away with him. Bucky’s free hand gripped the back of his shirt as he tried to ground himself.

‘Shuri and T’Challa wouldn’t have allowed initiation of the wake-up unless they were sure that it had worked,’ Steve said, trying to comfort the man currently beginning to shake in his arms. ‘But, Shuri is a scientist, so she wasn’t prepared to 100% guarantee an outcome. The way she put it, however, was “I’m as sure that it has worked, as I am sure that vibrainium is the strongest metal on earth.” That’s as close to a certainty as she was prepared to give.’

He felt, rather than saw, Bucky nod, understanding the logic of what Steve was saying. His breathing had slowed again somewhat, and it seemed like he was going to stop the beginnings of the shaking that Steve could feel under his fingertips.

‘What did they do?’ he murmured a moment later. ‘How did they do it?’

‘Wanda helped,’ Steve said, not letting go of the other man. He heard his noise of surprise close to his ear, and couldn’t help but smile slightly. Bucky had only met Wanda briefly, but he knew that he’d been very impressed by her skills. ‘You know I’m no scientist, Buck, but they did explain it to me in layman’s terms.’

‘And?’ Bucky all but breathed. By now he’d turned his head so that his temple was resting on Steve’s shoulder, and his one arm was slung casually around the other’s lower back. It was much more like a lover’s embrace, and one that Steve was quietly relishing, as opposed to the hold of someone beginning to panic. He breathed in Bucky’s scent.

‘Wanda was able to find the part of your mind that Hydra had corrupted, she was able to pinpoint it with her magic. Shuri was then able to isolate it, as if it were a brain aneurism, and remove it. I didn’t ask for specifics about how she’d removed it, other than it involved something to do with cauterisation -,’

‘In my brain?!’ Bucky asked, head rearing back and looking up at him scandalised, and then his features calmed as he considered it. ‘I’ll have to ask Shuri how that worked… it sounds cool.’

Steve snorted in amusement at this reaction. ‘Only you would say that, Buck.’

He was gratified to see the beginnings of a smile curl at the side of his mouth, the age-old smile that he had fallen in love a lifetime ago creasing his face. He couldn’t help but lean in and give him a little peck, which took Bucky by surprise for a second before he leaned in and tried to deepen the kiss. Steve didn’t let him, as much as he wanted to, instead he stepped back, causing Bucky to grumble in discontent.

‘Buck…’

Bucky sighed and looked down at his bare feet. ‘I know.’

‘I’ll only do it when you’re ready,’ Steve said quietly.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,’ said Bucky with a wry smile. ‘So, we could be in this room for very long time if you want to wait for that.’

Steve turned his palms face up and shrugged. ‘Only when you give me the go-ahead Buck. No-one is going to tell you what to do, or how to do it… ever again.’

Bucky looked like he might argue that point on some kind of minutiae, but decided against it after the last moment based on the earnestness he could hear in Steve’s voice.

‘Alright,’ he said, his shoulders falling. He looked down at his hand and took a deep breath. ‘No time like a present then, right?’

‘You sure?’

Steve needed to see it in Bucky’s eyes, not only hear it in words alone before he would proceed. The other man looked up, meeting his gaze, and Steve could see the determination in his gaze, battling with the vestiges of fear that were also present there.

‘Yes, I’m sure. Do it.’

Steve nodded, giving Bucky one last moment to back out, and when he didn’t, he began. He didn’t need these words written down, or for anyone to be feeding them to him via earpiece, he’d practiced these hateful words over and over again. They had been the words that had kept Bucky a prisoner, and now they were the same utterances that were going to set him free. He had wanted to be sure he was going to get them exactly right for this moment when he would turn the key to the cage, so he had practiced again and again, both by himself and with Natasha, so that he got the pronunciation exactly right.

‘Желание ( zhelaniye) ’

He watched carefully as Bucky’s whole frame stiffened in response to that first word, a knee-jerk nervous reaction of fear to the beginning of his torment. He basically stopped breathing.

‘Ржавый ( rzhavyy) ’

‘Семнадцать ( semnadtsat) ’

The other man had started shaking again, and Steve wanted nothing more than to rush forward and enclose him in his arms once again, but he didn’t. He made himself stand strong and rooted to the spot, knowing that they had to get through this.

‘Рассвет ( rassvet) … Печь ( pech )…’

‘It’s not going to work,’ Bucky moaned in distress, his remaining hand gripping the side of the gurney that he had previously been laid upon. If it had been his metal one he would have caused the metal to buckle by now with how tight he was holding it.

‘Девять ( devyat )…’

‘Stop,’ Bucky pleaded. ‘Please… he’s going to come back. He’s still in there… I know it! Just waiting.’

It was utterly heart-breaking to see him like this, and Steve wanted to do as he was bid and stop. He felt like he was the one now inflicting torture upon Bucky, and it was tearing at his insides as he watched. It took everything in him to keep going. Hurting Buck was a thousand times worse than any pain that could be inflicted upon his own person.

‘Добросердечный (dobroserdechny)… Возвращение на родину (vozvrashcheniye na rodinou)…’

By this point Bucky wasn’t talking to him anymore, he was simply crying and muttering. It was taking all of his effort, Steve could tell, to remain standing, and not simply descend into a heap on the floor. Steve only caught one word in the muttering: ‘please.’ His heart broke into yet another thousandth of a piece.

‘Один (odin)…’

‘No, no, no,’ Bucky uttered out, biting his lip and his face white, eyes screwed closed as he cried.

‘Товарный вагон (tovarny vagon)’

Steve finished the words.

Silence.

And then Bucky collapsed to his knees, nearly taking the gurney down with him as he crashed to the floor in a heap.

Steve was next to him half a second later, pulling the other man into his arms, one of his hands going to his chin so he could wildly search the other man’s eyes with his own, even though – deep down – he already knew that it had worked. There was no way the Winter Soldier would ever have let him get this close.

Bucky was shaking apart in his arms, tears streaming down his face as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

‘It’s gone,’ he whispered, half to himself. ‘He’s gone. It worked.’

Steve held him tightly, taking in the beating of his heart, the sound of his breath, even the taste of his tears and he hastily kissed his face again and again, both in reassurance and in pure unstoppable joy.

‘It worked,’ he repeated back to him. ‘You’re free.’

Bucky nearly choked then, feeling utterly overwhelmed by those two words and the feeling that came along with him.

Then Steve felt his arm wrap around him and pull him close, the brunette burying his teary face in his neck.

‘I’m free.’

That was all he said, and all he needed to say.

Those two words meant the world.