𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍.
❝ plan b & the winter soldier ❞
THEIR LITTLE WALK DOWN MEMORY LANE isn't one Svetlana is particularly enjoying. First, separating from Natasha back in Baltimore brought back bad memories, but then the flight to Germany was even worse. After all, the last time she was in Berlin, she was the one in a cell and the thought is enough to make her shudder. Not to mention this whole ordeal with Helmut Zemo in the very maximum prison that she herself was to be sent to...
The girl snaps out of her reverie when she hears Bucky say, "I'm gonna go in alone."
Flinching around in the prison hallway, Svetlana's eyes widen in shock, "What? Papa—,"
Her uncle Sam cuts in, looking just as confused, "Why?"
"You're an Avenger." Bucky explains himself, voice low, "You know how he feels about that."
Sam scoffs, "It's not like you two were known for frolickin' in the sun together."
Svet crosses her arms tightly over her chest, "He has a good point."
"He was obsessed with HYDRA. We have a history together."
When he tries to walk down the hallway again, the girl quickly grabs onto the sleeve of his leather jacket, "But Papa, I can go in with you, yes?"
"No, Svetka, not this time. I don't want you anywhere close to a cell again, okay?" Bucky's hands cup her cheeks, thumbs brushing over her bruised cheekbones, "Trust me. I got it."
Without another word, her papa turns and then disappears into Helmut Zemo's cell all alone.
Sam glances over at Svet who stands with her skinny arms now tightly crossed over her chest, gnawing nervously on her bottom lip.
Time seems to slow down then — dragging on and on with no end in sight.
Biting on her short yellow thumbnail, Svet paces nervously back and forth in the hallway as Sam watches her with worried eyes and hands in his pockets.
"He's gonna be okay, Slugger," her uncle finally speaks up, sounding like he really believes it.
Svetlana pauses, looks at him with heavy eyes, and whispers, "I hope it's so."
When her papa finally re—emerges from the cell, he seems different. Worryingly different. Bucky is silent as they leave the maximum security prison, silent as they pepper him with questions, silent as he leads them into a cold dark building two blocks away.
Sam's questions are coming out in rapid succession,"What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail? Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?"
Svetlana has given up on trying to ask, and she is instead following silently behind her papa, curiously staring at the back of his dark head as she wonders just what he's planning. He never usually keeps his plans from her.... Something is definitely going on.
Bucky finally breaks his silence with a simple, "We have no leads, no moves, nothing."
"What we have is one of the most dangerous men in the world behind bars."
"We also have eight supersoldiers that are loose."
"Zemo's gonna mess with our minds. Especially yours." When Svet backhands his arm, Sam rather unapologetically shrugs at Bucky, "No offense."
"Offense." He looks genuinely offended before he pushes up the power switch and the garage is engulfed in light, "Supersoldiers go against everything he believes in."
Svet sighs with her hands on her hips, "But Papa, he is crazy—,"
"—But he still has a code," Bucky responds pointedly.
"I've been on the wrong side of that code and so have the both of you." Sam is, thankfully, on Svet's side in this, "He blew up the UN, he killed King T'Chaka and framed you for it, then got you and your daughter arrested! Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it?"
"No," Svetlana announces unhelpfully, sitting on a crate with her cheek on her fist.
Sam blinks, opens his mouth, and then quickly blinks again.
"Okay, so Slugger, that was a bit of a rhetorical question, which I'll explain the meaning of later. The point is, she's right, they didn't." He turns back to her father, "I know why this matters to you, but it's pushing you off the deep end."
Svetlana flinches a little, staring at the side of his face with those same wide worried eyes. She wonders if she'll ever stop worrying about him. She doesn't think so.
"We don't know how they're gettin' the serum—,"
"I think I do!" Svet is speaking before she even really realizes, looking just as surprised when the two men gape at her, "Well, that is, only sort of. You see, when I got my serum, or when I stole my serum... I broke into a CIA facility somewhere in Europe. The doctor had been dusted before it could be finished, but still it did what I needed it to."
Sam raises a brow, "Which was?"
"Make me strong enough. Strong enough to stop the bad men, strong enough to wait for you all to come back to me."
Bucky silently runs his warm hand down her hair and Sam looks at her with the saddest eyes, "Slugger..."
Svet's not certain how to handle this sadness so she simply lets out a quiet breath and moves on, "When we fought the Flag Smashers that day, I knew they felt similar. I think we might have the same serum running through our veins."
"God..." Sam absorbs this for a moment before quirking a brow at her, "Do you remember the doctor's name?"
"Net." She frowns apologetically, "The program had been shut down. No names, only twenty vials of nearly finished serum."
"Well, I might have a solution to that." Sam and Svet stare at him warily, but Bucky just innocently raises his hands, "Let me just walk you both through a hypothetical. Can I?"
"Oh no, Papa..." Svet shakes her head in dismay.
Sam purses his lips, "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything." Bucky replies innocently, "Sveta, what's the weakest point in any system?"
"The human element," she all but sighs in response.
"Exactly." Bucky sounds quite proud of his daughter's vast knowledge of criminal activity, though Sam is fairly sure he shouldn't be, "Now, in this lockup, it's nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond."
Sam squints suspiciously, "So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?"
"Who knows? There could be many reasons..." He shrugs vaguely, eyes wide, "But the point is, these things escalate."
Svet's eyes slowly widen in understanding, "Da, and the lockdown procedures would be initiated—,"
His blue eyes lock with hers, "—And with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn't be hard to slip down a hallway or two. And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated..."
"Ahhh." Svet nods rather thoughtfully, "Someone could use the chaos to their advantage."
"Exactly," Bucky proudly snaps his fingers her way.
She beams a little.
Her uncle Sam does not approve, "I don't like how casual you're both bein' about this. This is unnatural." He throws his arms out at his sides, squinting, "And where are we, man?"
Svet's skin suddenly prickles.
The hairs on her arms raise.
Just a moment before Sam and Bucky, the girl quickly swivels around to see that, across the dim garage, double doors are sliding open and a silhouette of a man is waltzing in.
Svetlana recognizes it immediately.
How couldn't she?
Zemo.
Without even a second of hesitation, the girl yanks the gun from her belt, steadily walks towards the man, and aims her pistol directly at the center of his forehead.
While he does raise his hands, Zemo looks infuriatingly unconcerned.
Svet cocks the gun.
"Whoa!" Sam's eyes are blown wide as he yells, "Whoa, whoa—,"
Bucky quickly jogs after her, "Svetka! Svetlana, sweetheart, listen—,"
She could kill him.
It would be easy.
Too easy.
"What are you doin' here?" Sam angrily snaps at the man.
Bucky looks between the uncle and niece, "I didn't tell 'cause I knew you wouldn't let this happen."
Sam wheels around at him, "What did you do?"
"We need him."
Sam turns on Zemo with a jabbed pointed finger, "You're going back to prison!"
Zemo starts, "If I may—,"
"No!" comes three voices of shared outrage.
"Apologies."
Bucky tries to explain, head dipping low as he reasons with the man, "When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for us. I'm asking you to do it again."
As usual, Zemo doesn't know when to shut up, "I really think I'm invaluable—,"
Svet quickly raises the gun again, but Bucky pushes it back down again.
"Shut up." Sam snaps at the man before his eyes soften and he sighs once again, "Okay. If we do this, you don't make a move without our permission."
"Fair." Zemo shrugs in acceptance.
The redhead huffs and she paces away, gripping and re—gripping her gun in her shaking trigger hand. Sharing a silent look with Sam, Bucky draws in a low steadying breath before following after her.
"Svetlana..." He tilts his head a bit at her, eyes following her every move, "Come on, baby. I need you to trust me on this."
"I trust you for always, Papa, but I don't trust him!" Her voice breaks a little, eyes stinging at their edges, "I do not know if you're remembering what this man did to us! He used the words against you, he took you away from me, he split up the Avengers—,"
"I know that. I remember it all too clearly. But only he can help us find what we're looking for."
She doesn't want to go along with this, she doesn't want to let it happen. But she trusts him, of course she does. So, without any other choice, Svet finally and hesitantly looks at Sam and after another beat, gives a slight nod.
Only now that he had both Barnes' in agreement, Sam grits his teeth and forces himself to ask, "Okay, Zemo, where do we start?"
━━━━━━
AS IT HAPPENS, Helmut Zemo is actually a very rich man. But all his fancy sleek cars and old friendly butlers cannot buy him Svetlana's favor. The redheaded girl is sitting rather grumpily in the middle of his large private jet, legs folded beneath herself and arms crossed over her chest and peach lips puckered out.
She's sat this way through the entirety of the conversation thus far, listening with a pout as Zemo explained that to stop the Flag Smashers, they would have to scale a ladder of lowlifes by first visiting a woman named Selby.
Ever since Bucky ever so gently confiscated her weapons, she's been in a foul mood.
The white—haired butler, Oeznik, gives an indulgent smile his employer's way, "It's good to have you back, sir."
"You don't know what it's like to be locked in a cell." Donned in an elegant fur—lined coat, Zemo's soft chuckling stops and his smirk turns mocking, "Oh. That's right. You all do."
Svet's jaw tightens and her eyes narrow at the baron.
Zemo's presence is a constant itch on Svetlana's brain. It's not that she fears him, or that he poses much of a danger. He's never tried to physically hurt any of them, and the trigger words hold no power over her papa ever since her friend, Shuri, deprogrammed him. Still, Baron Helmut Zemo exudes something that Plan B and the Winter Soldier would have recognized as a threat.
Sam is as frustrated as his niece, "Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"
"I'm sorry. I was just fascinated by this..."
Svet feels her entire body flinch at the sight of Zemo slowly opening her papa's notebook, breath seeping out of her tightened lungs.
"I don't know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?"
Svet's grumpy expression immediately falls and she looks sharply between them, eyes growing wide in shock... Mr. Nakajima in the book? Why would Mr. Nakajima be in her papa's book?
Bucky's suddenly there, having moved so fast she didn't even see him coming. He has his vibranium hand locked like a vice around Zemo's throat, squeezing until all he needs
"If you touch that again..." Her papa hisses in a voice so sharp, it could make him bleed, "I'll kill you."
A chill splinters down Svet's spine.
Bucky falls heavily back into his seat.
Sam glances worriedly his way.
"I'm sorry." Zemo says through a slight choked throat, "I understand that list of names. People you've wronged as the Winter Soldier."
Svetlana struggles to catch her breath a little.
The amends... all those names who need amends...
"Don't push it," her father growls from his seat across from her.
He can't seem to turn to her, can't seem to look at her.
"I've seen that book." Sam somehow manages to fight through the ever growing tension, "It was Steve's when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What'd you think?"
"I like '40s music, so..."
Sam is absolutely appalled, "You didn't like it?"
"I liked it."
"It is a masterpiece, James." Zemo has a surprisingly good taste in music, "Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African—American experience."
"Wh—?" Sam blinks in shock, glancing at the others with a sputter, "He's out of line, but he's right. It's great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye."
"I like Marvin Gaye," Bucky squints.
Sounding far away, Svet can't help but dully interject, "I adore Marvin Gaye."
"See?" Sam snaps his fingers, feeling like a proud uncle, "Slugger adores Marvin Gaye, and so did Steve."
"You must have really looked up to Steve. But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him and dear Svetlana, America's supersoldiers, is that we put them on pedestals."
Svet's hands tighten into fists in her lap.
Sam's voice tightens, "Watch your step, Zemo."
"They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought." Zemo's sharp dark eyes turn on Bucky with little mercy, "You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?"
Bucky's gaze slowly pulls away, glancing out the window with a long lost look.
"Hey Zemo?" Svet feels herself growing tense, small hands now flexing over the armrests of her chair, "Zatknis'." Shut up.
"By all means." He smiles thinly at the girl, "All I intended is this is why we're going to Madripoor."
"What's up with Madripoor?" Sam makes a face as he glances around, "You talk about it like it's Skull Island."
"It's an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s."
"It's kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, Svetlana, you will both have to become someone you claim is gone."
Bucky glances at Svet, but the girl has already avoided his gaze, quickly looking away and out at the window.
His heart skips a beat.
When they finally land on a private airstrip in Madripoor, Svetlana steps out from the surprisingly spacious airplane bathroom in a long satin silver dress. The air conditioner leaves goosebumps on her bare back where the dress dips down and pools near the tops of her hips. The whole intention of such a dress is to allow her to fit in, it's true, but she can't help but fight the urge to fall into character, pushing it away and holding it off for as long as she can.
Besides, she has a few other things on her mind...
The thin fabric flows along Svet's legs as she moves through the hull and into the main cabin, stopping when she finds the three men staring at her. Both dressed in their own "costumes", Sam's eyes shoot wide and Bucky immediately crosses his arms over chest.
"Absolutely not."
"I like it." Svet argues quietly, slipping her hands into the folds of the skirt, "It has pockets!"
Bucky is not impressed, "That's about the only thing it does have..."
"James." Zemo sighs in impatience, dramatically motioning towards the door of the plane, "If we could move along..."
Her papa grits his teeth as if to block any further comment from escaping his mouth. With a low breath, he turns and follows the other two men towards the plane's exit, although clearly very unhappy about it. Bucky is nearly out the door when he notices that Svetlana isn't following.
"You ready, darlin'?"
The redhead just stares at him for a long moment, gnawing onto her bottom lip, fisting her hand into the silver fabric of her dress.
Fifteen heartbeats have passed before she speaks.
"You've kept something from me." Svet's chin tilts slightly to the side, her eyes soft and cautious, "Yes?"
Bucky freezes, feeling everything in his body stiffen and go cold.
There's a shift in the air, one they can't put a name to but one they both understand.
Whatever's about to be said... it's going to change everything.
It doesn't matter how close he stands now, it still feels thousands of miles away. He feels as if on the opposite side of a canyon, a chasm of darkness separating him from her. It's never felt this way before, not when he wasn't the Winter Soldier, not when he was her papa.
Svetlana tries to draw in a breath, but it hurts. It hurts to breathe, her migraine is back, her ears are ringing. A tingling numbness seeps down from her sternum down her arms and into her fingers until she can feel nothing at all — nothing but the pain in her head, nothing but the confusion of the man standing before her.
"Svetka..." Bucky quietly sighs, slowly shaking his head down at his feet, "I don't want to discuss this right now—,"
"We don't keep secrets, Papa." Her earnest tone leaves no room for argument, "We... We tell the truth, you and me, for always. What aren't you telling me?"
Maybe a part of her already knows.
Maybe a part of him hoped she wouldn't.
She can feel them now, the tears welling up in her eyes, heavy and unforgiving like the sudden weight on her chest.
He tries to move towards her, but she stumbles over her feet to step back, putting more distance between them for a reason she can't understand.
Bucky lets out a strangled breath and a brief tight nod, grinding his jaw. He eases onto the edge of one of the plane's many chairs, resting his elbows on his knees as he frowns down at his feet.
"It's..." It's difficult for the words to even take shape in his mouth, "It's about Yori."
Svet feels as if he's punched her in the stomach, slapped her across the face, shoved her to the ground.
That is all the confirmation she needs.
"Did I kill him?" Her voice is terribly soft, terribly empty.
Bucky sharply looks up at her, eyes wide and dim.
"Mr. Nakajima's son..." The girl swallows hard, stepping nervously closer, "Was I the one who pulled the trigger on his son?"
Her father says nothing.
The memories come flooding back now, violent and unforgiving. Her hands tremble as they fold around her face and she slowly shakes her head, as if trying to shake the memories from her mind.
Tears in her eyes, Svetlana shudders out, "I did, didn't I?"
Bucky stands and steps quickly closer, ever so gently cupping her cheeks in his hands, "It was my fault. I ordered you to—,"
She shakes her head, "Papa..."
"You didn't have a choice. You were following my orders. You didn't know any better. No one taught you any better." Bucky's thumb strokes her cheekbone, feeling the dampness of tears on her skin, "You—You only a little girl, my baby..."
He leans forward to kiss the top of her head, but she steps back before his lips can reach her skin. The look on her face... she looks so betrayed, so hurt, it actually winds him.
"You... You let him get close to me, you let me..." Svetlana's near hyperventilating now, tears freely slipping down her cheeks, "Mr. Nakajima ate with me, his own son's murderer, and—and I tried to be his friend, what kind of—? How can I—?"
"—You didn't have a choice," Bucky repeats a bit desperately now, voice shaking as he tries to get her to understand.
Dirty, dirty, dirty... Svet looks down at her hands and she sees blood on them. So much blood. She can never wash it off. She can never get clean.
"Papa, you should have told me—,"
"—I know. I let you down." Bucky's voice cracks, scared that Natasha might be right, scared that they might be losing her, "I let you down, baby, I'm just so sorry—,"
"Net. Net, you are right." She wipes her tears and she holds her head high, but she can't look him in the eye, "No, Papa. We... We cannot discuss this now."
Svet sharply turns and she leaves him all alone, and when they emerge from the plane one after the other, they're different.
Everything's different.
They're not James and Svetlana Barnes. No, not even close.
They're the Winter Soldier and Plan B.
The silver fabric shimmers and sails behind Svetlana as their quartet strides down the damp brightly lit bridge towards the black car awaiting them. Though it's clear that the others notice that something is definitely not okay, they don't say anything about it. This is a comfort at least.
"We have to do somethin' about this." Sam tries to distract them, irritatedly and uncomfortably tugging at his red suit coat, "Svet's gonna be serving looks, and I'm the only one who looks like a pimp."
"Only an American would assume a fashion—forward black man looks like a pimp." Zemo tsks in dismayed annoyance, pulling a phone from his coat to show them a picture, "You look exactly like the man you're supposed to be playing: the sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, AKA the Smiling Tiger."
"He even has a bad nickname."
Svet glances over Sam's shoulder, "Nice clothes, though, yes?"
"H—ll, he does look like me." Her uncle sighs in agreement.
Her father stays silent at their sides.
"You smell this?"
Sam sniffs the air with a scrunched nose, "Yeah, what is that? Acid?"
"Madripoor." Zemo replies flatly, "No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There's no margin for error."
They slip into character and they fall in line.
Svetlana feels her posture immediately straighten, each of her vertebrae locking stiffly into place as her old persona takes hold. She's only secondary in this role, not part of the decision—making. She's a toy soldier, an asset. She ducks her head, follows, and obeys; no free will, no choices.
Zemo nods towards the glowing city at their right, "High Town's that way."
"Not so terrible a place if you should like to visit," Svet mentions offhandedly.
"Unfortunately, Low Town's the other way."
"Let me guess." Sam scoffs, yanking open the car door, "We don't have any friends in High Town."
Zemo smirks.
Silent and compliant, Svetlana seamlessly slips into the car between Sam and Bucky, sitting safely between them as they cruise down the dark roads of the island. Thunder rumbling in the humid air above, a collection of motorcycles ride up along their sides, boxing them in, watching them as automatic weapons hang from their sides.
Bucky glances Svet's way, taking in the side of her blank face with a painful wrench in his chest. Svet turns her head and squeezes her eyes closed.
Their night is about to get so much worse.
The walk into Low Town feels a dangerous one.
Music rings out on the streets as they walk in a silent single line, neon light flashing over their faces, the heat of distant fires sizzling over. Svet's heels click on the damp pavement as they slip through busy dark streets, passing an assortment of unsavory characters who aren't shy in throwing looks their way.
She counts the weapons as they pass, knowing that her father behind her is doing the same. One, two, fourteen, twenty—one, thirty—seven... They're out—manned, and hideously out—gunned. If they get into a firefight tonight, Svetlana doesn't exactly love their chances.
Bucky breaks character for only a moment, letting his hand press into Svetlana's hip, gently guiding her a little more in front of him, protecting her with his body if it becomes necessary. She doesn't resist it, but she doesn't exactly welcome it either.
The chasm between them grows ever wider.
Their destination is a club, cluttered with people and rumbling with music.
As they push through the thick crowd, Zemo tosses the words over his shoulder, "" Ready to comply... Winter Soldier?
Feeling a tingle beginning in her hands, Svet glares daggers into the back of the man's head, but she can't let her glare linger. After all, people are staring, already.
"Is that the Winter Soldier?" Voices whisper as they pass, "The Silver Fox is still with him?"
They finally settle at the bar, silent, imposing.
Svetlana assesses the situation just as her father and the Red Room trained her, scanning and taking in each and every face around them. Analyzes the way they are holding themselves. Decides who poses a threat and who would be a minor inconvenience. Notes who is hiding a weapon and who is not.
It feels familiar. Like riding a bike.
Being Plan B feels like home. And it makes her sick.
She's aware of dissociating — she can feel the separation deep down within herself, like a tearing of her soul, like being pulled away from her own blood and bone. She's aware of it, but she knows that her papa isn't. She watches him just as much as she watches the other threats in the room.
Big eyes, blank—faced.
It doesn't terrify him, not yet. Bucky doesn't fully recognize that it isn't fully him, that it feels like someone else is controlling his limbs, that his brain has turned into a mess of static and protocol, as if being stuck within a cell to watch his own body do things he doesn't want.
"Hello, gentlemen." The bartender steps forward, completely disregarding the girl's presence, "Wasn't expecting you, Smiling Tiger."
"His plans changed." Zemo answers on his behalf, "We have business to do with Selby."
The bartender watches them suspiciously for a long moment, "The usual?"
Unsure of what else to do, Sam simply nods.
Then he reaches into a clear jar amongst the bar, pulls free a long green snake with a quiet squelch, and begins cutting the thing open.
"Ah." Zemo smirks casually, "Smiling Tiger, your favorite."
The bartender scoops pale organs from the belly of the snake, drops what can only be the heart into the shot of alcohol, and then ever so kindly places it on the bar in front of him. Svetlana glances over at her uncle, barely resisting the urge to smirk mockingly at him. He gets the message all the same. Sam elbows Svet sharply but subtly in the side, earning a quiet 'oof' before she glances away to once again scan the busy room.
"I love these," Sam says stiffly, holding the glass up to all of them.
Zemo taps their clear glasses with a quiet clink, "Cheers, Conrad."
"Mmm." When it comes to being believable, Sam tries his very best, though it's not very good, "Mmm."
Throwing the shot back, her uncle barely manages to stop gagging and throws a big thumbs up to cover himself.
Svetlana shakes her head and swallows back a cackle.
It's Bucky who watches with barely any emotion. Some distant part of him wants to make some sort of jab, to tease him, raise an eyebrow and make fun, but it's only an afterthought so distant it's like another person whispering in his ear, fighting to be heard.
It worries her.
A man steps up behind them, making Zemo turn as if being massively inconvenienced, "I got word from on high. You ain't welcome here."
"Mmm." The baron is unbothered, explaining in a simple voice, "I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me..." He inclines his head towards the father and his daughter in obvious threat.
The man raises a brow, "New haircuts?"
Bucky and Svet give their ever famous blank stare.
"...Or bring Selby for a chat." When the man leaves with this new message, Zemo turns away with an annoyed scoff and shake of the head.
"A power broker?" Bucky murmurs, "Really?"
"Every kingdom needs its king. Let's just pray we stay under his radar."
"Knowing us, that seems unlikely," Svetlana murmurs resignedly, hands splayed out on the bartop.
Sam looks at her without judgement, without accusation, "Do you know him?"
Still, Svet makes herself feel it. Just a little. She sighs and shakes her head a little, tucking her hair behind her ears, "I've never met them, no. When I was... when I worked with Uncle Clint, we heard tell of them, but... it was not someone I wished to associate with."
"Svetlana is correct." Zemo agrees with her yet again, "In Madripoor, he is judge, jury, and executioner."
As called by their words alone, footsoldiers suddenly come out of the cracks and crevices of the crowd, Zemo's message having clearly made it up to the Power Broker. These men with their guns and knives try to surround them, completely overwhelming them in every possible way.
Except one.
"Zimniy soldat." Zemo turns towards her father with a simple order, "Napadeniye." Winter Soldier. Attack.
The Winter Soldier's vibranium hand shoots out, snatches onto his wrist, and forces it back with a vicious twist.
The room shifts.
Another comes forward, and another comes down.
With every bone he cracks and every soft tissue he hits, he feels it all come back. It's him, but it also isn't. He's doing these things, but something else is commanding his moves, his body isn't his own anymore. His mind is muddled, instincts sharp and consciousness dulled.
Svetlana is fighting the urge to vomit, feeling her stomach churn within her, shoulders heaving, tears threatening to break free.
Zemo leans close to murmur, "Didn't take much for him to fall back into form."
Svet's hand darts forward, gripping the man's wrist with an ironclad hold, "If you order him to do this again, Zemo, I will make good on my promise: I will kill you. Without hesitation."
The baron's thin lips turn slowly upward, "I do believe you would."
Then, the moment she sees a third man suddenly make a move for her papa, Svetlana forces herself back into the fight all over again.
While the Winter Soldier may have been made for this, Plan B was born for it.
Plan B rips off her skirt to reveal tight satin pants before stepping forward and grabbing the guard's knife—wielding hand to thrust it back. He groans at the strain, struggling to toss the dagger to his free hand. Plan B snatches onto that hand as well, but before she can do anything, he's hoisting her up and then throwing her against a wall with a painful smack.
Plan B yelps and falls, struggling up to her feet just as the man digs a hand into her curly hair and yanks, exposing her throat to his dagger. Baring her teeth like a predator, the asset sinks her teeth into his flesh and he's screaming as he lets go, trying to force her down when she spins, hurling the man into the bar. He falls to the ground but just as quickly raises a gun and pulls the trigger.
Plan B manages to dodge twice.
But it's not enough.
The girl soldier stumbles back when the third bullet swipes by her left arm, cutting through the edge of her skin.
Something within the Winter Soldier snaps. The father seethes, striding forward to wrap his vibranium fist tightly around her shooter's throat, lift him up, and then slam him down onto the top of the bar.
Everything goes silent around the soldier.
It feels too natural.
It feels as if his hand was made to hold a victim.
It feels that every move he makes, the person he's worked so hard to become slips further and further away, and there's nothing he can do about it.
Sam's steady touch brings him back, and Bucky realizes he's forcing a man against the bar, metal fist around his throat. Guns all across the bar are raised, he can smell Svetlana's blood in the air, and Zemo's voice echoes far away.
"Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us." The baron switches over, louder this time to fit the scene, "Molodets, soldat." Well done, soldier.
The ensuing silence becomes deafening, hundreds of eyes on them.
"Selby will see you now," the bartender eventually announces.
The Winter Soldier's hostage groans and wheezes as he's released, collapsing to the floor with a dull thud.
Sam watches him, "You good?"
Bucky pulls back, exhales sharply, feels Svet looking at him.
No.
He nods.
They are led deeper and deeper into the club, following Zemo without a word.
Svetlana just watches the back of her papa's head, the world drowning out all around her. The bullet barely clipped her. She'll heal fast, she always does. On the list of things she's worried about, that is definitely not one of them.
Her papa's expression remains impassive, unaffected. He was trained well. He was conditioned for this. They made him think that this in his blood, in his nerves, in his bones. But it's not. It's not, it's not, it's not.
Svet comes back to herself when she hears Zemo say, "—I'm sure you've already figured out what I'm here for."
"You're taller than I'd heard, Smiling Tiger." Dressed in a loose suit and tie, a woman with short white hair and catlike eyes purrs Sam's way. Her smirk only widens when she glances towards the girl, "Though you. You are just how they described. Covered in blood. Pretty as a picture."
Svet keeps her jaw locked and says nothing, though she feels almost everyone's eyes on her. Everyone but her father who can't seem to look her way. She knows he won't. He can't afford to. Seeing her will make Bucky himself again. They must put on a show, they must play the game.
With a pleased smirk, the woman called Selby turns back to Zemo, "What's the offer?"
"Tell us what you know about the super—soldier serum." The man paces around the dimly lit lounge, "And I give you him."
Is that what this comes down to? A deal with the devil? A trade in human beings?
Svetlana catches her breath nearly silently, eyes fearfully darting around the room, feeling herself flinch towards her father out of reflex.
Both Bucky and Svet stiffen when the man caresses his face, the smell of expensive cologne and cigarettes filling their nostrils. Too familiar. Too real. But by some twisted miracle, father and daughter both stay still, begging the images of the Superior — of Pierce — to stay locked in the cold vaults of their minds.
Svetlana is going to throw up.
"Along with the code words to control him, of course." Zemo's hand is still cupping her father's face, stroking his chin, "He and his Plan B will do anything you want."
Swallowing desperately against the bile rising in her throat, Svetlana can't resist the shudder from racking her frame and quickly looks down at her feet, feeling tears back in her eyes again.
She can't do this. She can't do this.
"Now that's the Zemo I remember. I'm glad I decided not to kill you immediately." Her thick British accent sneers at them all, "Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right."
Zemo casually lounges upon a seat across from Selby, readying to make a deal.
"The super—soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Doctor Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank." Selby glances curiously around the room, "Or... condemn, depending on what side of this you're on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but... things didn't go as planned."
As the woman chuckles, Zemo asks, "Is Nagel still in Madripoor?"
"Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron." Selby pushes up to her feet, pacing slowly and methodically around the dark room, "And before you get all cute, don't think you can find Nagel without me."
And then Sam's phone vibrates.
Bucky's eyes glance between Selby and Sam, jaw tightening, muscles straining, readying to spring into action if he needs to protect them.
Svet shoots her uncle a look. Why didn't he turn his phone off during the super secret meeting with the scary criminal lady will now forever be something she teases him for.
Selby tests him, "Answer it."
Bucky moves behind Selby just as a guard moves behind Sam.
"On speaker."
The phone continues vibrating, and Sam has no choice, "Hello?"
"Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation." A woman's voice fills the tense air in the back room of the club, "It's been drivin' me nuts."
Sam doesn't take his eyes off of their informant, "What situation exactly are you talkin' about?"
"Are you high?" The woman on the other end sasses, "You know what situation, it's the only situation me and you have."
"What situation, Sarah?" Sam urges in a low serious voice, "Say it."
"The d—mn boat. And watch your tone. Okay? I let you slide at the bank."
"The bank. Yeah. Laundered so much..." Svet raises a skeptical brow as her uncle awkwardly chuckles and tries to play the part, "Yeah, they'll come around."
"If that was the case, then why'd they dog you out, Big Time?"
"Yeah, you d—mn right I'm Big Time. You'll see when I have that banker killed."
Svet hisses and bites her lip to hide a pained wince, barely fighting the urge to roll her eyes at her uncle's attempt to sound like a bad guy.
"Cass! What'd I tell you about the Cheerios? I don't have time for this!" The woman, Sarah, sighs and says back into the phone, "Sam, I'm sorry. I'll call you back."
"'Sam'? Who's 'Sam'?" Selby looks around with sudden panicked eyes, shouting, "Kill them!"
Just then, a bullet suddenly bursts through the side glass window, splitting through the air and then straight through Selby's forehead. The moment the shots are fired, the two HYDRA assets feel themselves launch back in control again, taking over like autopilot. Svet hurls a blade towards the first guard just as Bucky yanks the sniper rifle from his grip and takes him down with a single shot. Without another word, the father quickly grabs his daughter, spinning around to shelter her body with his own before they all take cover behind a slip of the wall.
Leaning towards him, Svet hurriedly whispers, "I see why you are more soldier than a spy, Uncle Sam."
The man rolls his eyes and hip checks her before hissing, "They're gonna pin this on us."
"We have a real problem now," Zemo sighs back, glancing quickly around, "So leave your weapons and follow my lead."
They do just that, but it doesn't seem to help. The club has been shut down. People are staring as they hurry down the neon streets. They pass a woman in a window who watches them with a drawn grin, using her hands to mimic guns firing their way.
"This is not good," Zemo voices the obvious.
"You think?!" Svet sasses in annoyance.
They quicken their pace, but it's not enough. Suddenly all of the lights on the street go out and bullets start flying from nearly every direction. In a panic, Bucky immediately grabs Svet's hand and sprints down the dark street, barely registering that Zemo has slipped down a side—street, only looking back to make sure Sam is in tow.
He shouts, "I can't run in these heels!"
"You are telling me!" Svet laughs back in a similar predicament, tripping and stumbling in a way that's so unlike her.
All around them, bullets fly, and just when it looks almost hopeless, two shots take down the last of the men raining fire down upon them. They skid to a sudden halt, nearly arm in arm as they look warily all around.
Circling back, Zemo jogs to a stop at their sides, "You seem to have a guardian angel."
"Well, this is too perfect." A voice echoes into the dark smokey air, and then suddenly an all too familiar woman steps from the shadows, tugging her hood from her head and raising a pistol high, "Drop it, Zemo."
Bucky's eyes squint in disbelief at the sight, "Sharon?"
"Hey, it's you!" Svetlana points in surprise, having really only one memory of the woman, "Uncle Steve's kissing lady."
Sharon Carter understandably opts to ignore that, gun raised and pointed straight at Zemo, "You cost me everything..."
"Sharon, wait." Sam steps forward immediately, hand outstretched to her, "Someone recreated the super—soldier serum and Zemo had a lead."
"That explains why you guys are here. And Selby's dead."
Bucky frowns, "So what are you doing here?"
"I stole Steve's shield, remember?" Squinting right on back, Sharon points the gun from person to person, "I also took the wings for your a—, so that you could save their a—es from his a—."
"Thank you for our a—es." Svetlana quietly cuts in, feeling awkward, "By the way."
"Uh, you're welcome." Sharon tells her quickly before moving on, dropping her arms to her sides, "Unlike you all, I didn't have the Avengers to back me up. So I'm off the grid in Madripoor."
"Hey, don't blow that smoke at me." Sam gives her a look, "We were on the run, too."
"Was. Is. Big difference." The blonde points out, voice low and sad, "I don't speak to my family anymore. I can't. My own father doesn't know where I am."
"Listen... Sharon, we need your help." When the woman chuckles, Bucky adds, "Please."
Looking down at the ground, Sharon finally sighs in agreement, "This isn't over. I have a place in High Town. You'll be safe there for a while."
They follow her without question, though Svetlana has to admit that she isn't sure they should.
Filled with beautiful (and definitely stolen) classical art, Sharon's place in High Town is much nicer than Svetlana could have ever possibly imagined. The woman sets them up with new clothes, which Svet finds to be a relief, ditching the silver fashion statement and heels for a black pantsuit, trenchcoat, and boots. For the first time since this disastrous night began, she finally starts to feel a little more like herself again.
"Much better," the woman announces as she returns to the sitting room, where they all are either dressed or nearly there.
"What's going on, Sharon?" Sam tugs on a turtleneck and jacket, "You don't ever wanna come back home?"
"They'll lock me up if I step foot back in the States,"
"Madripoor doesn't allow extradition," Svet adds nonchalantly, leaning against the window to keep an eye on the street.
"How do you know that?" Bucky gives her a weird look.
The redhead shrugs.
"Look, I'm sorry I didn't call, but after The Blip and the chaos, I just..."
Sharon stops him before he can say another word, hands in her pockets and sneer on her face, "Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it's all hypocrisy."
"He knows." Zemo offers a not—so—helpful commentary, a glass of whiskey in his hand, "And not so deep down."
Sharon wears a sardonic smirk, "By the way, how is the new Cap?"
Sitting on the couch, Bucky grumbles, "Don't get me started."
Svet scoffs grouchily.
"Please." Sharon gives a mocking scoff, sitting down at her papa's side with narrowed eyes and a bit lip, "You buy into all that stars and stripes bullsh—t. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap's best friend."
"Sharon..." Svetlana feels herself straighten defensively now.
"Wow." Bucky nods with annoyed pursed lips, "She's kind of awful now."
Unfortunately, Svet can't help but agree.
Sam proceeds to try to convince Sharon to ask around for more information about Doctor Nagel, promising to try to get her name cleared back in the States. The blonde finally acquiesces, no matter how reluctantly.
"Well, I sell to some pretty connected people." Sharon lets out a long quiet exhale, moving towards the exit with a glance over her shoulder, "Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I'll see what I can find."
Zemo just scoffs as if this isn't like them at all, "Trouble."
Sam rolls his eyes.
They're all moving to follow Sharon when Bucky stands slowly from the couch, clearing his throat.
"Svetka, hey, wait a minute..."
Sam glances back but says nothing, pushing Zemo onward to give them privacy. That man always sees more than he says. Sam's good like that, Bucky thinks.
Svet hurriedly shakes her head, "I don't want to talk about it just now—,"
Svet tries to leave, but Bucky gently takes her arm to have her stop, making her turn towards him with a reserved kind of glance he's never seen before — not directed at him.
"Svet." He gives her another tug, brows furrowed low, "Hey!"
The girl finally turns to him, forcing herself to look him in the eye where she knows he'll see her tears.
His expression softens immediately, "Talk to me."
Embarrassed, her eyes quickly squeeze close, "I—I don't,"
"Are you angry at me?"
The girl looks shocked before she takes a moment, trying to think it through, sort through the raging emotions currently coursing through her.
"No." Svetlana finally decides in an honest whisper, "I'm never angry at you, Papa. But I am angry..." Her bottom lip trembles and she folds in on herself, arms wrapping tightly around her torso, "I'm angry at the situation, I'm angry because I said Zemo was a bad idea, I'm angry that I left any of the serum for this Doctor Nagel to finish. I'm angry and—and I'm... I'm..."
It's like searching for the words at the bottom of a very deep and murky pond, and the way to explain her feelings keeps slipping through her fingers. Bucky waits patiently. Silent and unmoving, simply watching her.
Piece by piece, she feels her fight fall away. Bucky always opens her up, always works his way through the brick walls of Svet's mind with a single look, a single quirk of his lips. He fights through them all, brick by brick in mere seconds, leaving her bare and yet so free.
"Ispugannyy." The Russian comes out as an exhale, heavy and barely audible, "I was so scared for you tonight, Papa. Scared that you might be hurt, deep inside. Scared that you might snap back. Seeing you as the soldier again, it scared me." Scared.
"God, I'm sorry, Lana, I'm so sorry—,"
"No, please." She reaches out and rests her palms on either side of his rough face, morning sky eyes on his ocean blue ones, "Please don't apologize. It's not fair, Papa. You never need to apologize to me."
Bucky sucks in a deep breath, "But Svetka, I do."
"Please, Papa." Those hurt eyes are back but this time on his behalf, spilling tears down her rosy red cheeks, "Don't."
Everything else goes unsaid, although it shouldn't.
What does one do with their amends if the other doesn't want to receive it?
The party is overwhelming in every way. The lights, the dancing, the people, but the most significant one is that Svetlana's actually never been to a party before. As always, she keeps close to Bucky, even if things feel different, off. He welcomes it, but he knows they have things they need to work through.
If little else, at least there are Zemo's dance moves to help brighten their spirits.
When Sharon does finally find some answers, it takes them to a cluttered colorful shipyard in the early morning light when the air is still humid and the sun is pale white. Their new companion opts to stay on watch so their quartet all slowly step through the thick metal doors of Shipping Container #4261 with quiet unease. A secret door at the back allows them up a narrow staircase into a blue—lit laboratory.
Through the shelves and tables, they eventually find the back of a man sitting before a table filled with beakers and vials. He's nodding his frizzy head, quietly mumbling to the music floating through the air from the gramophone in the corner.
Gun in hand, Sam lifts the needle off the record, the music cuts short, and the lab is engulfed in silence. The weasel—looking man swivels around with wide eyes and a gasp.
"Dr. Nagel?"
"Who are you?" The man demands in a nasally voice, "What do you want?"
Taking the lead, Sam gets straight to the point, "We know you created the super—soldier serum."
"Get out of my lab!" For someone with three guns on him, he doesn't quite seem scared enough.
But then he freezes because there they stand: Plan B and the Winter Soldier.
"Hey! You know who they are, right?" Sam grabs onto his arm, talking over the man's shoulder as he nods to each person in the room, "This is Baron Zemo. I know you've heard of him, too, right? You seem like a pretty smart guy. So you better become conversational real quick."
"How about a counter proposal?" Nagel tests his luck, back against the wall, "Make me a better offer and I'll talk."
Bucky's eyes narrow and Svet hisses through her teeth.
The father and daughter barely need to share a glance before they know what the other is thinking. Snatching over his collar, Svet shoves Nagel onto a chair just as Bucky raises his gun to his temple.
"Guys, we have company!" Sharon's strained voice calls out over their comms, clearly in some kind of fight outside, "Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go!"
They need just a few more minutes, just a little more time.
Grinding his teeth, Bucky moves the weapon and fires it mere inches from the doctor's head. Nagel gasps and flinches away, beady eyes widening in fright.
"Feel like talking now?" Svet questions in a low dangerous voice.
Dark eyes darting around the room, the doctor swallows hard before complying, "I was brought into HYDRA's Winter Soldier program to pick up their work after the five failed test subjects in Siberia." The man doesn't seem to notice that Bucky and Svet shift uneasily at this, "When HYDRA fell, I was recruited by the CIA. They had blood samples from an American test subject with semi—stable traces of serum in his system."
Svetlana's hands tighten into fists, glancing at Sam as they realize who he's talking about: Isaiah Bradley.
"After much labor, I was able to isolate the necessary compounds in his blood. I was a god. I did what no other scientist since Erskine was able to do." His voice turns almost... whimsical, light with pride and joy, "But mine was going to be different. No clunky machines or jacked up bodies. Mine was going to be subtle, optimized, perfect."
Those dark beady eyes drift across the lab to land on the subtle, optimized, and perfect redhead standing amongst the strong imposing men around her.
"Like her."
Everyone looks at Svetlana.
The doctor stands slowly, pacing towards and around the redheaded girl. Svet fights the urge to run and hide, instead slowly lifting her head and eyeing the man as he moves around her with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Before I was able to complete my work, I turned to dust." His squeaky voice grumbles, "Then when I returned, it was five years later, program had been abandoned, and one vial was missing."
Svetlana runs her tongue over her top teeth, rolling back her shoulders and raising her chin against the interrogation that she knew would inevitably follow.
"What did it do to you?" Nagel's wide hungry eyes lean just a little too close, his breath hot on her skin, "What does the unfinished serum do to the human body?"
Bucky flinches and raises his weapon, "Don't take a step closer."
"Alright, you need to back the h—ll up," Sam just as quickly pushes the man back into his seat.
"It slows my aging." Svet speaks up for herself, "Gives me migraines, I sometimes lose my hearing..."
"Hmmm... serves you right." Nagel tsks and smirks, looking both fascinated and pleased, "Eventually I came here. The Power Broker was more than happy to fund the recreation of my work."
"How many vials did you make?"
"Twenty. After she stole one, Karli Morgenthau stole the remaining and completed nineteen, so... I can only imagine what the Power Broker has planned for that poor girl."
Svet steps closer, "Where is Karli now?"
"I don't know where she is. But a couple of days ago, she called and asked if I could help someone named Donya Madani." Nagel shrugs indifferently, "Poor woman has tuberculosis. Typical of overpopulation in displacement camps like that."
"Well, what happened to her?"
"Not my pig." Nagel smiles carelessly, "Not my farm."
Bucky's brow twitches with disgust before he asks, "Is there any other serum in this lab?"
"No."
Bucky's gun lowers and he rolls his eyes at everyone else, "Now what?"
A bruised and bleeding Sharon suddenly bursts through the doors of the lab, gasping out, "Guys, we're seriously outta time here—,"
Then, without any warning, Zemo raises a gun and fires a shot straight at Nagel's chest so the man collapses with a massive bang. With a gasp, Svet flinches back and Bucky jerks toward her out of instinct, pulling her behind his body.
Sam and Sharon fight to restrain the madman as the latter hisses, "What did you do?!"
Svetlana feels it again, just milliseconds before her papa, moments before everyone else.
Her eyes widen and she spins, "Take cover—!"
The world explodes before she can finish, the metal container all around them bursting with fire and smoke. Svet shrieks when she dives for Bucky, the both clinging onto one another as they're thrown back.
Bodies twisted on the floor, quiet groans and smoke rise up all around them. The chemicals begin bubbling on their tables, the gas tanks trembling in their crates, everything threatening to blow at any moment.
Sam's strained voice echoes from around the corner, "Anybody see Zemo?"
Svet barely has time to process that the baron has once again slipped away before Bucky is quickly helping everyone up, rushing them towards the quickly crumbling exit. They barely make it outside before the shooting starts all over again.
"All right!" Bucky decides to take charge, yelling over the firefight, "Wait for my signal!"
And then Sam promptly does not wait for his signal, disappearing around the corner without a word.
Svetlana winces, "Um... Papa?"
Bucky groans, "D—n it!"
When they finally get enough cover to meet back beneath the halfway fallen container, Bucky glares and yells over the chaos around them, "I thought we were going left?"
Sam shouts, "You went the wrong way!"
Bucky shouts right on back, "I was clearing the way!"
Meanwhile, as the men are busy arguing, Sharon and Svet are busy trying to take out as many hostiles as they can, ducked down beneath the debris.
"I came out first, you had to follow me!"
"And where are we now?!"
Sharon yells over her shoulder, "Guys, not the time—!"
"—So not the time!" Svet shouts in agreement.
When her gun clicks empty in her hand, Sharon hisses, "I'm out!"
"Here!"
Svet reaches into her belt and tosses her another mag before reloading and firing off another round in one smooth succession. And of course, Bucky and Sam are still arguing behind them.
"This is a barricade—,"
"—It's in every action movie!"
Another explosion rocks the ground beneath their feet, and when they look again, they find a man in a purple mask fighting through the men on the other side of their makeshift battlefield.
Zemo.
The man turns suddenly, catches their eye, and then disappears into the smoke.
Grinding his teeth, Bucky's hand presses into Svet's back, "Go!"
Their group continues their mad dash through the shipyard, working together to take out any bounty hunters that come into their path.
Just when Svet thinks they're finally free and she's finally figured Helmut Zemo all out, tires screech across pavement and then a fancy convertible containing none other than the baron himself pulls up.
"Supercharged!" Zemo announces with a smile.
Sam's eyes narrow and he jabs a finger his way, "You're going back to jail."
"Do you want to find Karli or not?"
"He's right. We need him." Bucky points out as he climbs into the passenger seat, "And there's three of us, and at least nineteen of them."
"Fine." Sam concedes as Svetlana groans, both of them hopping into the backseat, "But if you try that sh—t again..."
Zemo feigns innocence, "I wouldn't dream of it!"
"If you believe that, you'll believe anything." Svet mumbles grumpily.
"Well." Sharon sighs as she pushes Bucky's door shut, "That was one h—ll of a reunion."
Sam raises his brow, "Come back to the States with us?"
"I can't." The blonde backpedals a little, "Just get me that pardon you promised me."
And as Sharon Carter turns and sprints off into the distance, Sam squints at the back of Bucky's head, "You're not gonna move your seat up, are you?
"No."
Despite everything, Svetlana laughs.
━━━━━━
NIGHT FALLS QUICKLY.
No one says much.
On the plane over the Pacific, Bucky stays crouched next to where Svetlana is lying on the side couch, shivering and sweating after a nightmare. The migraine is back, her hearing coming and going with no warning or relief. The shaking girl lets him stroke her damp red curls, thick lashes fluttering as she fights sleep for fear of the dreams.
A new face had been added to her nightmares.
Bucky knows without having to ask.
"I called your mother." He tells her in a soft voice, so quiet no one else can hear but her, "We've agreed that she's going to take you home."
Svet says nothing, her hand gripping tightly onto flesh one, those glassy blue eyes staring dully somewhere past his shoulder.
He doesn't give up on her, continuing to stroke her hair as he whispers, "She's gonna be pretty p—ssed, huh?"
Her tired gaze flicks up to meet his own, and as a teardrop trickles down the bridge of her nose, she smirks a little.
Finally, Svetlana manages to croak out a tease, "I hope she yells at you first."
"There's my girl." Huffing a laugh, Bucky smirks a bit half—heartedly before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, "Sleep now, Svetka. I'll be here when you wake up."
As their nightmare of a trip finally draws to a close and Svet softly drifts off to sleep, Bucky realizes two horrifying things:
1. He still can't cross S. Barnes off of his list.
2. He's broken Rule #2.
━━━━━━ annie speaks ━━━━━━
whew! i think this is the biggest chapter we will ever have in this book!! i just want to apologize because i KNOW it was so much but also it would've been awkward for me to split it up when it all kind of fit together? if that makes sense? hopefully it was somewhat bearable!
in other news! whoa! SO MUCH WENT DOWN IN THIS CHAPTER! it was low key an emotional roller coaster and most of the time, it was not a fun one. so many tears were shed in this chapter, i'm so sorry. bucky really is trying his best and he's feeling so, so sorry, but svet just doesn't want him to feel guilty though she is heaping it all upon herself, poor babes. AND we found out the backstory behind svet's little serum story so big YIKES for that. and it looks like natasha and svetlana are going home... or are they? hehehe!
ugh, i'm so excited for next chapter! please leave your thoughts, comments, theories, and votes! i love you all so so much!
and as always, funny thingamabobs: