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“I don’t understand, James, why are you going to Pennsylvania?” Zemo asked, using his most reasonable tone. It only made Bucky want to strangle him.
“I don’t understand why you were sneaking a look over my shoulder while I was on the computer, but here we are.” Bucky retorted back, closing the laptop in frustration, and looking up at Zemo. “I just have something I need to do there.”
“Can I go with you?”
“Do you want to walk for about a day?” Bucky asked, shaking his head. Zemo jerked his head back in surprise.
“I have several cars you could take, and there are trains, I’m sure…”
“I’m walking.”
“Is it a mission?”
“Personal,” Bucky bit out in annoyance, heading into the bedroom to pack a backpack.
“And when were you going to tell me, that you were leaving?” Zemo asked calmly.
“Was gonna leave a note.”
“A note,” Zemo replied, his tone unimpressed. He stood in the doorway, blocking Bucky’s exit. Bucky stopped in front of him, shaking his head slowly. “And how long did you plan on being gone?”
“Three to five days, depending on whether I take time to rest.”
“You’d leave me alone for that long?” Zemo asked, sounding surprised, and Bucky forced himself to chuckle instead of getting angry, pressing a kiss to Zemo’s lips.
“I trust you, Doll.” He replied, and due to Zemo’s surprise, he was able to slip past him, into the living room, where he packed his laptop into the bag. Zemo followed behind him.
“James… Where are you going?” Bucky sighed, shaking his head.
“A graveyard, Zemo. I just… I need some closure, okay?” Zemo stepped back and lowered his head.
“I understand. Have a good trip, love.” He said, giving in suddenly, and Bucky sighed.
“Look, I would take you with me, but-”
“No, no love, you don’t have to explain. I understand,” Zemo reassured, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to Bucky’s lips. “Be safe.”
Fourteen hours later, Bucky was looking at street signs, trying to find his way and finally, he just got a hotel so he could consult the map on his laptop. Waiting for the free wi-fi to load up, he fell asleep.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Bucky looked down at Rumlow, taking a deep, bracing breath, before getting up out of his chair and walking over to him, testing the chains holding Rumlow’s ankles and wrists together. He patted Rumlow’s face several times, waking him up gently.
.“Hey, Brock. You look good on the other side.” He said, letting himself grin as Rumlow struggled in the cuffs.
“Bucky,” Rumlow said, his tone low and dark, his eyes flicking around the room, probably searching for a way out of his predicament. “What are you going to do with me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, but Bucky caught the flicker of fear in those amber eyes as Rumlow tried to strain against the chains.
“It’s nice to see you with fear in your eyes instead,” Bucky said, picking up a scalpel and thumbing along the edge. “Don’t worry, I won’t be doing anything you haven't done before.” Rumlow’s lips curved into an altogether too-knowing smirk.
“You know, this is exactly why I do what I do. This is where the power is. I enjoy this,” He glared, the smirk looking much more sinister, “all you’ve done is give me exactly what I want, sweetheart. You’ve done me a favor.”
Bucky shook his head, his head feeling foggy. What? Bucky didn’t understand.
“Whatever you say, Brock.” He said, stepping closer to the man, crouching down to his level. He lifted Rumlow’s head with two vibranium fingers under his chin and ran the scalpel lightly over his jaw, only barely enough to cut. Rumlow’s sinister smirk only widened into a grin.
“Good boy, Bucky,” Rumlow whispered, “You’ve done exactly what you were supposed to do. Pain… oh, how I love it. I’m an animal, a monster. And you’ve set me free.” He said blissfully, and Bucky stared at the scalpel, at the man before him who might just be utterly mad. Rumlow stared right back, challengingly, awaiting the next cut.
“You’re no monster, Brock. You’re just a man.” Bucky hissed, trying not to let Brock into his head. There was no way he was obeying orders, was there? He couldn’t…
“I’m… just a man…” Rumlow repeated, with a pause, his eyes wide in a mocking look. “And here, all along, I thought I was a demon from hell.” He stared up at Bucky with those same wide eyes, that mocking look turned innocent, though Bucky knew he was far from it.
“One more time, Bucky. Please,” Rumlow whispered softly, and Bucky looked down at the scalpel in his hand. He slashed off Rumlow’s shirt instead, not giving Brock what he wanted, not yet.
“I’ll give you what you want in my own time. You’re not in control here, Brock.”
Brock looked at Bucky with a smile that turned sadistic.
“You’re right, Bucky, you’re in control. You’re in control, and I am merely your puppet. I will let you manipulate me. Use me. I am nothing but a slave for you, to do with as you wish, nothing more, nothing less…” He licked his lips, and lowered his head, looking up at Bucky through his lashes. “And I love it.”
Bucky dropped the scalpel.
He stepped back from Brock, his breath coming in short bursts, hyperventilating.
How did he do this?
How? Even tied up, at Bucky’s mercy, Rumlow was inside of his head, just by mimicking things Bucky had said when he was Rumlow’s.
“What’s wrong, Bucky? You look a little… lost,” Rumlow whispered, smirking, and Bucky was so attuned to him he could hear him over his ragged breaths. “What?” Rumlow coaxed softly, “You miss your puppet master? Do you miss playing with me? I get it. I bet we could go back to the way things were so easy.”
Bucky shuddered, covering his ears with his hands, trying to block out Rumlow’s words. There was no possible way he wanted Rumlow back, was there? He couldn’t want Rumlow to be his handler, his… master…
“SHUT UP!”
“The Master that brought you to your knees, that taught you pain, that changed you… Do you miss him? Do you miss being under my control?” The laugh Rumlow gave told Bucky he knew he’d won.
“You want to suffer. You’re addicted. You need pain. You need me. You need to obey. To serve me again. You need to be dominated.”
Bucky’s voice sounds weak, and uncertain, even to himself. “No…. no, I can’t… no…”
“Don’t you want to be free, baby?” Rumlow coaxed again, “Free from choice. Don’t you miss it? Don’t you miss the power I once had over you?”
“It’s so simple. So easy, baby. Just submit. Surrender. Let me take control. You like it. You want me to control you. You miss it.” Rumlow’s voice got quieter and quieter as he spoke, forcing Bucky to relax, to stop hyperventilating, just to be able to hear him.
Bucky crawled forward, towards Rumlow on hands and knees, picking up the scalpel again as he went.
“Yes…” He admitted softly, “Yes I miss it…” He whispered, now next to Rumlow.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” Rumlow praised, “You miss it. The pain. The suffering. The power I hold over you. And you want it back. You need it from me.”
“Yes…” Bucky admitted again, tears falling down his face.
“Good boy... I own you. I manipulate you. You are but my slave. You never left me, Bucky. I kept you. I'm never letting go. Now… ready to answer a few questions?”
Bucky nodded, keeping his head down, eyes on the ground. He doesn’t dare to meet Rumlow’s eyes, to see the judgment or the triumph in them.
“I will answer anything you ask,” Bucky replied softly.
“Why were you with that… guy? You know that’s not where you belong, don’t you?”
Bucky could feel Rumlow shaking his head in disapproval.
“Now, you’re going to be a good boy, and tell me everything.”
Bucky barely dares to look up, but he does, and the way his heart flutters in his chest at Rumlow’s smile is dangerous.
“If- If you mean Zemo, I… I wanted to see if… if he could help me feel something. If he could… teach me to love someone. To be with someone. And he did. But he couldn’t give me what I need. What I crave. Only you can.
Rumlow nuzzled his head against the side of Bucky’s face, still restrained.
“That’s my boy. I knew I’d have you back eventually. I’ll make sure you get everything you want.” He purred proudly. Bucky looked at him through his lashes, trying not to let his tears spill in gratitude.
“You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I was a fool not to see it before” Bucky replied, his voice cracking under the strain of restrained tears.
“It’s okay. You just need a little reminder sometimes. I know you’ll always come back to me.” Rumlow said, and bucky threw his arms around Rumlow, hugging him, nuzzling his face into his neck.
“I missed you…” Bucky said.
“I missed you too, sweetheart,” Rumlow replied, and rattled his chains. “Now, set me free.”
Bucky moved behind Rumlow, searching for the keys in his pockets. Suddenly, Rumlow looked up, and let out a rage-filled cry.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Bucky woke up to a boot in the side.
In reflex, he grabbed the shoe with his vibranium arm and yanked, knocking someone… heavy to the ground. He looked around, realizing he was in a graveyard… in front of Rumlow’s grave.
He’d been heading there, but he could have sworn….
“Missed your Master, dog?” Asked Rollins’ voice, and Bucky’s hands curled into fists. Flowers had scattered everywhere, and Rollins was picking them up.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Bucky snarled, getting up. He tried to stomp one of the flowers, but Rollins grabbed the underside of his boot and shoved it, forcing Bucky to take several steps back, almost knocking him on his ass.
“These aren’t for Brock. I’m just keeping his dad’s grave neat like he asked me to.” Jack put the flowers in the vase next to the next grave.
Scoryn Rumlow, Loving father and good man, it read. Somehow, that was too much for him, and Bucky turned and ran away.
He ran, all the way home.