Blood Debt - The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Bucky x Zemo)

Chapter 3

Bucky's memories of Prague were hazy. He remembered his kills as the Winter Soldier in glorious technicolour, but those moments not punctuated with adrenaline and sharpened by his mission were a little blurry around the edges. As the hired car drove through the ancient city streets, an alley, or a feature here or there seemed familiar. A doorway where he snapped a man's neck brought a memory so sharp that he visibly twitched.

If Zemo recognized his companion's discomfort, it went unremarked upon. "I will warn you, James. I have now been captured twice, and it has gotten around that I assisted you last time. My old friends might not be quite so friendly as they were. And they were barely friends to begin with."

"Well, we gotta start somewhere. And if your leads stop panning out, then this is gonna be a short field trip," said Bucky. His phone made a noise. He ignored it. He still hadn't developed the habit of being chained to his phone, a fact that drove some of his colleagues nuts.

"Gita started dealing in alien tech in the aftermath of the Chitauri invasion. She got in early and made her mark. I have confirmed she is still alive, so it is a very good bet that she is still in the business," said Zemo.

Bucky's phone made a noise again. He clenched his jaw. And then another noise. He grumbled and pulled it out.

>> Yo. You with the purple people eater?

>>Buck?

>>Don't make me call you.

Bucky side-eyed Zemo, who seemed to be trying to look at the screen.

The Sokovian held up one hand in a polite gesture, then turned to look at the cityscape as it passed outside his window.

When he first started having to use a phone, Sam tried to teach him how to type with his thumbs. That led to a very long, pointed stare from Bucky as he typed with one flesh and one metal thumb, the metal one clicking loudly and uselessly against the glass.

After that, Sam taught Bucky how to use Swype.

>in pasture

>Prague

>Zero is with me

>Fuck I hate texting

Bucky started to shove his phone back into his pocket, but it buzzed again. He pulled it out again grudgingly.

>>Okoye is pissed.

>She contacted you?

>>No, we're in a group chat.

>Why am I not in it?

>>Cause we mostly send memes.

>>And you're too damned old to get any of the jokes.

>We did have jokes in the 50s you know.

>>Naw, jokes weren't invented until 1969.

>Hilarious.

>>Look. Just watch your back, okay? And get that zero back into prison as fast as you can. You just got back in Wakanda's good graces.

>Yes thank you Captain Recap.

>>Miss you too, buddy.

Bucky shook his head and slid the phone back into the pocket, definitively zipping his coat.

"And how is Sam? I assume that is who you were conversing..."

"Stop," said Bucky before Zemo could say much more.

---

A few minutes later, the car pulled up outside of an old building with an ornate facade and neon lights. The sign declared that live jazz was available in both Czech and English. Even before they approached the door, the sweet strains of a saxophone hit Bucky's ears. He was hit with a bodily wave of nostalgia. The sound was like fresh-baked bread.