America's Soldier

On The Run

When I get back to my apartment, retrieved shield in hand, I find a bloody couch (sigh), a hole in my wall, and a note where Nick was that just says "Run. Trust nobody."

Fuck.

So I pack up my most important belongings (shield, picture of Steve and me, phone, charger, a change of clothes, etc.) into a backpack and gtfo.

I decide to walk, because apparently I can't trust a taxi, and in about half an hour I'm at Sam's door. Lucky for me, he's home.

He looks confused when he opens the door.

"Did we have a meeting I forgot ab- hey, dude, are you okay?"

Now he's concerned. I should have texted him first. I always forget that's an option.

"Yeah. Hey, dude, did you mind if I crash at your place for a bit? I've had a difficult afternoon."

"...Sure. Come on in. I saw you like an hour ago, but you look spooked. You sure you're alright?"

I step inside and close the door.

"Fuck, man. No, you know what, I'm not alright. You might want to sit down, this is a wild ride."

I catch him up on the bloody couch, the supersoldier, Nick (to a vague extent), and the whole "trust nobody" thing.

He takes it surprisingly well.

"He says 'trust nobody,' and your first instinct is to come over to your running buddy's house?"

"I don't know what the fuck is going on and you are the person who probably knows me the best who isn't really fucking old or dead, so yeah. I don't think you're evil. I trust you."

He smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Feel free to stay here as long as you need. If you need to make any calls, use my phone. This probably isn't where anyone expects to find you."

We hear a knock at the door.

"Fuck," Sam immediately says. "Okay, stay back here. I'm going to answer it."

"It's probably fine. Bad guys don't knock, unless you count knocking down your door."

He pats my shoulder before getting up to get the door. I stay put and listen carefully.

"Hello?" he says. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to check in on Bucky," says a female voice I recognize immediately as Natasha's.

"I'm sorry, I live alone. There's no Bucky here."

"BUCKY!" she yells, "I need to talk to you about what happened to Nick!"

I know Nat decently well, for Nat. I wouldn't say I trust her, though. I don't answer.

"May I leave a message for him, then?" she asks Sam when she gets no response.

"I don't know him, but if that makes you go away, sure."

There's the sound of tearing paper and then the door closes. Sam comes back.

"Hot chick outside, redhead. You know her?"

"Natasha. Yeah, I know her. I don't know if I trust her, though."

He hands me the paper she wrote on.

"She left you a message."

I take the paper, unfold it, and read her message.

Fury is dead. SHIELD is HYDRA. We need to talk. CALL ME.

"Oh, shit."

"What?"

"Nick is dead. Can we take a walk to somewhere else so I can make a call? I don't want to put your home at risk."

"Much appreciated. I'd say don't bother, if she knows you're here you might as well just call. Use my landline."

I thank him and call Nat. I also power off my phone as soon as I check her number, just in case.

"Bucky. Good to hear from you."

She gets a call from a random phone and of course she knows it's me.

"How do I know I can trust you?" I ask. A valid question, in my opinion.

"How do I know I can trust you? Nick was at your apartment before he died."

"I didn't fucking kill him if that's what your implying. He bled all over my good couch, Nat. And the question still stands."

"I don't have anything to show for my trustworthiness besides the fact that Nick Fury made me a better person and I want to deck the person who killed him and any other HYDRA thug I come across. Can you help me or not?"

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I think I know who his killer was. His name is the Winter Soldier, he's credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years. Most people don't think he exists, but I've seen him. He shot someone I was protecting through me."

"Ah. But this guy didn't look anywhere near 50. And Nat, he looked like a supersoldier."

"Yeah. The intelligence community knows next to nothing about him. He's a ghost, Buck."

No. That's Steve's name for me.

"Bucky."

"Sorry. Bucky."

"What can I do?"

I hear relief in her voice.

"I'll meet you outside your VA friend's place. There's someone we need to meet with."

I cover the mouthpiece and look at Sam, who'd been standing in the doorway for a while now.

"I've got to go."

"I'm coming with you."

What?

"This is dangerous, Sam. You're out of the action, I don't want to pull you back in."

"Nobody's pulling me. I'm walking right by your side."

"You sure?"

There's no uncertainty in his face as he nods.

"Okay, then." I uncover the mouthpiece. "Deal. One thing, though: he's coming with me."

"Your running partner?"

"How much have you been watching us? Yes, him. Sam."

"He can handle it?"

"Yes. Let's go."

I hang up on her, slightly indignant. Sam can handle whatever the hell we are about to do.

...Can't he?

"She's outside," I tell Sam. "You ready?"

He nods. I honestly can't tell at this point whether he's telling the truth, but here we go. I swing my bag onto my shoulder, he grabs a bag of his own, and we head out the door.

As promised, Nat is at the bottom of the steps to Sam's place. She gives a little smile at the sight of us both and gestures towards a car parked at the side of the road.

"Get in, boys. I'm driving."