Chapter Text
Bucky wakes up with a start but stays still, eyes closed, playing dead. The last thing he remembers is the Hydra doctor putting a needle into the crook of his elbow of his flesh arm. He’d been over powered, it was stupid, he’d been careless, the further into the base he had travelled the more the scents and sights had gotten to him. He was a strong man, a powerful soldier, but even he could be overwhelmed by such vivid reminders of his harrowing past.
He had never been there before, but it was so reminiscent of the places he’d been kept, where he’d been tortured, and used to torture others, that he couldn’t fight the terror that clenched his chest, his vision blackened around the edges, bile rose in his throat burning the back of his tongue and he realised his own worst enemy was himself.
Bucky thought it would be easy, he hadn’t taken back-up, hadn’t needed it, all he had to do was get any information on the increasing resurgence of Hydra in the east of Europe, get out and blow the place sky high. His recon revealed it was a research base rather than military, less soldiers, less guns, but as the panic attack over took him and he dropped to his knees in a lab filled with the acrid scent of death and disinfectant, he felt the front sight of a pistol jab into the back of his head.
He went through his options, a bullet to the brain would kill him, even as a super soldier, he’s strong but not immortal. With the way his knees felt like jelly and he could barely raise his arms to surrender, any attempt to stop the person behind him would result in his brains ending up on the outside of his skull. A cascade of heat swept down him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes like a waterfall of boiling water and his stomach lurched. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, pooling at the base of his spine, he felt hot and cold at the same time and shivered involuntarily. He swallowed audibly as saliva filled his mouth, fighting down the urge to wretch. He should have brought back-up, should have brought Sam, the other man would have distracted him, grounded him and he would have been able to stop this, he wouldn’t have allowed his body to react against him.
His fingers tingled as he raised them up in surrender to the back of his head, losing feeling in his extremities and he cursed his own brain for doing this to him. He could hear the footsteps behind him, the sound of safeties being turned off, rifles being raised. He counted 8, maybe more, couldn’t fight back even if he wanted to, his own body was fighting him more than his enemies were.
He’d been strapped to a metal gurney and someone in a white coat and mask had plunged a long needle into his vein, they hadn’t attached anything yet so he didn’t know whether they were planning on drugging him or taking his blood, perhaps both. He had blacked out all on his own, his body giving up as he succumbed to the terror that this was happening to him all over again.
As Bucky wakes up he keeps his eyes closed, realising with the dull ache at the back of his eyeballs and the cotton mouth sitting heavy on his tongue, that they had indeed drugged him to keep him under. He can still feel the slight pinch of where the needle had been in his arm, but can’t feel the implement itself, it had been taken out then, and it can’t have been that long ago as it hadn’t healed yet.
He notes he’s still lying on his back but there isn’t the stiff paper and the metal gurney beneath his head anymore, he can feel a soft pillow. The bed beneath his back is soft too, a bed he thinks again, he’s lying in a bed, the covers pulled up to his chest.
He focuses now on what he can hear, there’s no beeping of machinery, no sounds of people walking around outside the room, he’s not in a hospital room. Has he been saved? He fights down the relief as he realises just because he is in a particularly comfortable bed does not mean he has been saved, or he is safe. The likelihood of someone rescuing him is slim, Sam knew where he was going, but he works alone now, SHIELD and SWORD hire him out from time to time but he’s his own agent. He’d been fine up until now, working solo, but those missions hadn’t been Hydra, he hadn’t known how he would react to coming face to face with the organisation that had thoroughly destroyed him, he had wanted revenge but he had so easily fallen at their feet.
Sam was instructed to alert the suitable authorities if Bucky didn’t return or he hadn’t heard from him by the end of each day during this mission. Had it been 24 hours? He was on hour 18 of that day when he’d finally entered the base, so 6 hours had been left before he’d have to check in with Sam, how long had it been? Hydra could do a lot to him in 6 hours.
So, if he hadn’t been saved, had he just been moved somewhere else to await more tests, Hydra had never been so generous as to allow him to sleep in a bed before, even when he was their most prized asset, so why would they do it now? His head spins and he resists succumbing to the building panic clawing at his chest again.
The room is silent and he tries to hone in his super hearing and listen, however he doesn’t seem to be able to pick up as much as usual, he’s feeling the affects of the drugs and can’t focus. But quietly, someone is breathing, just one, there’s one person in the room with him. He hears the turn of a page, he can feel the panic setting in and his palms are sweating, his limbs feel heavy from the drugs, he doubts he could fight if he’s surrounded again. Where is he? And who is here with him? His breath catches in his throat and he tries to take a deeper breath in without drawing attention to the fact that he’s awake. He smells it then, cologne, it’s familiar, and it punches him in the gut as he realises he knows who this is. He shudders out a breath without being able to hold it back, a choked out gasp and he clenches his eyes shut, hands weakly fisting in the sheets at his sides, he doesn’t know if he’s relieved or terrified, he has so many conflicting questions all battling for dominance in his brain.
“James?” The thick Sokovian accent says, and he thinks he can hear concern in the tone, but he chalks that up to his drug addled brain being confused.
Bucky hears the book being placed on a table next to the bed and the creak of a chair as the man sitting in it gets up. His eyes snap open and the room around him spins as it all fights to come into focus through his hazy brain. It’s dark save for a lamp on the bedside table angled towards the chair, the small wingback is pulled in close to the bed so the man immediately looms over Bucky as he stands.
“Zemo?” Bucky barely chokes out, his voice hoarse, his throat dry. He tries to scoot further away, put distance between him and the other man until he can assess his motives, but he finds he can’t get his limbs to work and just jolts slightly towards the edge of the bed.
The Sokovian’s features are blurry and he’s wouldn’t be sure it was actually him, unless the sound of his gravelly voice and the scent of his cologne weren’t so unmistakable.
A thousand thoughts race through Bucky’s mind at once, what is happening? Where is he? Why is he here? Why is Zemo here? They worked together before, is he safe? But he used him before, is he unsafe? What did the Hydra doctor do to him? Is Zemo Hydra? Is he Hydra? Is he Hydra?
Zemo’s outstretched hand that had been making its way towards Bucky is slowly pulled back as he raises both hands to the sides of his head, splaying his fingers out.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He says softly, clearly showing his hands to try to ease Bucky’s visible distress.
Bucky blinks rapidly trying to clear the fog in his brain, make his eyes focus, Zemo’s face finally comes into view and the concern he thought he heard in the Barons voice earlier is painted clearly on his face, which confuses Bucky even more. He shakes his head, tries to sit up again but can’t, whatever they drugged him with works well on super soldiers and he slumps back down against the bed with an involuntary whimper.
“James, please, relax.” Zemo says softly again and Bucky snaps his eyes up to the other man, glaring at him at if to say that’s the last thing I’m going to do around you.
“A-are you H-Hydra?” Bucky chokes out through clenched teeth and he sees Zemo’s face drop.
“I know you’re not feeling well, but don’t be so absurd.” Zemo says and slowly lowers his hands to his sides. Bucky tries to sit up again and groans as all of his muscles fight against him.
“James, please” Zemo says again and this time Bucky glares at him but in confusion at the sheer concern visible on the Baron’s face.
Bucky decides that he isn’t in a state to fight and if he’s going to die he’d much rather it be Zemo than at the hands of those Hydra goons. He succumbs to his protesting body, finally relaxing against the sheets, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of the other man.
He sees Zemo’s features relax once he realises Bucky has stopped resisting and watches the man turn to the bedside table and pick up a bottle of water. Zemo squeezes the bottle to show no water leaks out of any pin pricks and makes a show of breaking the seal when uncapping it, trying to prove its not drugged.
“Please?” Zemo says as he holds the bottle of water out, and Bucky’s ice blue eyes rake over the Barons face and can only see concern echoed back at him. He’s sure the other man is a brilliant actor and manipulator, but had he wanted to kill the super soldier he imagines it wouldn’t be as simple as poisoning. Plus he could have killed him when he was unconscious and he hadn’t, but perhaps he wants to watch the life drain out of his eyes.
Don’t worry, I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you.
Bucky nods sharply and attempts to sit up again but struggles, sucking in a breath through his teeth as every single one of his muscles protests.
“Please,” Zemo says again with more urgency this time, and Bucky thinks he’s never heard him beg so much, he’s never heard him beg at all in fact, it stops him in his tracks. “Allow me?” Zemo asks and Bucky nods again.
Zemo gently cradles the back of Bucky’s head in his free hand and lifts him up slightly, he presses the rim of the bottle to Bucky’s bottom lip with his other hand and begins to slowly pour the water into the soldiers open mouth, stopping to allow the other man to swallow. Water dribbles down his chin but he drinks like a man who has just emerged from the desert, they continue until the bottle is drained and Bucky is left gasping.
Discarding the bottle to the floor without a care, Zemo slowly lowers Bucky’s head back to the pillow, he hesitates and Bucky eyes him warily but then the Baron is swiping his thumb gently across Bucky’s stubbled chin, mopping up the spilt water. Zemo’s eyes are on his lips but it’s over as quickly as it starts and the Baron is backing up out of his personal space.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, I shall begin to answer the most obvious.” Zemo says as he sits back down in the chair, he pulls it even closer to the bedside, his knees up against the mattress and he leans forward.
The lamp light casts half his face in shadow but the half Bucky can see is different from how he remembers last seeing the other man. He has a few weeks of beard growth, not bushy but not just stubble either, his hair is longer, curling slightly at the edges, it’s not as groomed as it once was, swept back and still elegant but not as meticulously styled. He’s wearing a high neck plum coloured sweater, that Bucky remembers, and the soldier takes in a deep breath and smells that distinct cologne again, some things clearly don’t change, but maybe others do.
Bucky opens his mouth to speak, ask his first question but Zemo raises a hand to stop him.
“I know what you’re going to ask, please allow me to fill in the gaps as best I can, conserve your energy for now, when I have finished if you have any more questions I will endeavour to answer them.” Zemo says and waits for Bucky to nod again.
“As you can tell you are no longer in the Hydra base.” Bucky takes his eyes off of Zemo for a second to look around the room, it’s dark and he can only make out the fact they’re in a rather large bedroom, his super soldier vision can usually see in the dark better then your average Joe but he’s still foggy and gives up to look back at Zemo, not wanting to let his guard down.
“But you are however still in Belarus, the Hydra base as you are aware was near the borders to both Russia and Ukraine, we are much closer to the capital here.” Zemo says slowly, allowing the information to ruminate in Bucky’s mind, the soldier tries to calculate how long it would have taken to get there, if the 24 hours would be up with Sam, but decides it doesn’t matter as he has no idea how long he was with Hydra.
“This is one of my families homes, I have stayed here previously when working with Sokovian intelligence, it seemed like the most logical place to bring you to assess the damage, rather than try to get you back to America.” Zemo says and watches as Bucky’s brow furrows further than it already was. “Also it was rather selfish on my part as taking you back home would see me taken back to the Raft no doubt. Even after saving your life.”
Bucky’s eyes widened at that and he opens his mouth to speak but Zemo raises his hand again and continues talking before the other man has a chance to voice his question.
“The matter of the Raft is that I escaped, of course,” he says like it’s the easiest thing in the world, “I imagine, judging by your reaction, you had not heard as Sam would not have wanted to trouble you with such matters while you were on this particular mission, I didn’t realise until I arrived at the base that we in fact had the same goal, to takedown this new Hydra faction, I couldn’t sit idly by while they built themselves back up again.” Bucky nods in understanding, ignoring the fact that Zemo considered serving his life sentence sitting idly by, Zemo moves on to what he imagines is James’ next question.
“When I found you in the lab they had taken a lot of your blood, to recreate the serum no doubt, something I had feared could happen and one of the reasons I had wanted you dead in the past.” Zemo swallows, he rubs his fingers across his palms, a nervous movement, and for the first time Bucky realises Zemo isn’t sure of himself, he exhales abruptly before continuing as if he had just said fuck it in his head.
“It was rather an inconvenience then that I felt I could not leave you there to be swallowed by the fire and rubble when I eventually blew the place up.” Zemo pauses again seeming a little taken aback by James’ lack of reaction as he waits patiently for him to continue, but Bucky feels as though the room had grown several degrees hotter, the tension roiling off of Zemo filling the space like a thick fog.
“After killing the guards and the doctor, I made sure to destroy all of the samples, as well as other forms of the super soldier serum they had been working on, they had quite the extensive collection.” Zemo pauses once more, seeming to have gotten over whatever it was that had caused him trouble for a moment before continuing matter of factly as before.
“I unhooked you from all of their machinery, blew up the base after collecting any evidence of further Hydra collaborators and brought you here to recuperate, not the easiest on my own with you still dead to the world but here we are. That was yesterday, I imagine Sam has alerted the authorities to you going AWOL by now.” Zemo says, seemingly finished with his explanation.
Bucky clears his throat intending to ask Zemo how he escaped or how he knew about Hydra when he was locked away on the Raft or even how he had completed what Bucky had failed to do, but instead he says:
“Why save me?” Realising now he’s had something to drink his voice is mostly back to normal, albeit a little gruffer than usual, so he continues. “Why go to all that trouble when your mission, your life, would be so much easier with me dead?”
He watches as Zemo observes him for a moment, trying to read his expression but he’s got his usually bionic stare in place, eyebrows slightly furrowed, icy blue eyes piercing him with his questions.
“As I said before, I’ve decided not to kill you.” Zemo replies simply, he licks his teeth and clenches his jaw as if he is anticipating the follow up question and doesn’t want to answer.
“Yes, you don’t want to kill me yourself, but just leaving me to die, would that not be beneficial to you?” Bucky says as he tries to sit up again, his muscles ache but now he’s been awake a little longer he’s able prop himself up against the head rest.
He flinches as Zemo stands up again, but allows him to pull his pillow up and rest him in a more comfortable position sat up in the bed, now he’s moved he can feel the cooling sweat on the T-shirt sticking to his back and wonders what the hell it was they drugged him with that has him weak like this.
Zemo uses the task of helping Bucky to stall for time, he sits back down, crossing one leg over the other and leans back in the wingback chair, the action casting him in shadow so Bucky can barely see the expression on his face.
“Your death, would be the opposite of beneficial to me, James. I would find it quite disagreeable in fact.” Zemo says and Bucky can see the other man’s eyes on him, but his darkened face is carefully schooled into an expressionless mask.
“So you went to all of the trouble of saving me?” Bucky says, raising his eyebrows.
“We have a common goal, you and I.” Zemo replies without directly answering the question, rubbing his finger tips against his palm in that nervous action again. “Perhaps we could take down Hydra together, it seems as though you may need assistance, and I, despite how we met, am used to working with a team.”
“In charge of a team you mean? I’m not going to be your attack dog Zemo, you’re not my handler.” Bucky says, huffing out a laugh at the other mans presumed audacity.
“No, I’m not, and you’ll never have a handler again James, you are your own man. But I fear Hydra has affected you so deeply, in more ways than one, that you may need assistance in your revenge, as I needed assistance in mine.” Bucky looks at him questioningly regarding his comments on how Hydra has affected him, did the Baron know he was captured because of his owns bodies betrayal, his panic attack at the hands of people who worked for the organisation that inflicted such horrors onto him, he doesn’t ask but instead focuses on the reminder of Zemo using him as a means to his own end.
“Yes and you forced that assistance upon me.” Bucky says his gaze darkening.
“I apologised for that, I did not know the man that you are, I only saw you as the weapon Hydra made you, and I will apologise again. I’m sorry James, for everything I put you through. Truly, I wish to help you, as much as I want to stop Hydra because of all they stand for, I wish to help you get your own revenge, please allow me that pleasure.”
“Pleasure?” Bucky questions almost mockingly but he’s weak and his attempt to ridicule the man doesn’t come across so strongly.
“I want to help you, James.” Is all the Baron says, firmly as if it were final.
“And why do you think I would want your help?” Bucky says his mouth curling slightly as if the thought of Zemo helping him was somewhat offensive.
“You may not want it, but I fear, if you are to get the revenge you deserve and defeat Hydra once and for all, you are going to need my help.” Zemo says still hiding his features in the shadows but his hands are clasped in his lap and Bucky watches as the man clenches them together as if he’s bracing himself.
“Today… yesterday,” he corrects himself, “was a slip I will not allow myself to make again.” He says with as much confidence he can muster even if he still has very little faith that his own body will not betray him again.
“Even so, I fear there is something you will need to make allowances for, something you will need to adjust to, and I would like to help you through that.” Zemo says as he leans forward into the lamp light, allowing Bucky to see his open and honest expression.
“I don’t need another therapist.” Bucky replies through gritted teeth, eyes raking over Zemo’s features.
“It is not your mental capacity I am worried about James,” Zemo says breaking eye contact as if battling with something internally.
“Spit it out, Zemo.” Bucky says growing tired with the man’s long way of talking in circles without actually getting to the point.
“I fear Hydra has taken away your choice once again, to be the person you thought you were. They took what they needed from you, and then took it away from you completely.” Zemo says watching Bucky carefully, his brow furrows deeper in confusion.
“In English, Zemo.” Bucky says firmly again, but quieter this time, the back of his mind screams with what Zemo is implying but he needs the other man to say it clearly.
“You no longer seem to possess any of the serum yourself.” Zemo says his hands clenching in his lap again, as if he’s stopping himself from reaching out to the other man.
“What do you mean?” Bucky says blinking rapidly a few times, “they drained it all out of me?”
“No I don’t think it works like that, you’d have no blood left if that was the case, they didn’t seem to be giving you a blood transfusion for any of the blood they took from you.” Zemo pauses and Bucky wants to throttle him for stalling but notes how weak he still feels, how he hasn’t felt this weak since… before. “but within the serum experiments they had what appears to be an untested antidote, something that has existed since the Winter Soldier was created.”
Bucky chokes out a sob, trying to catch his breath, an antidote, there’s been a possible cure, all this time? Zemo doesn’t acknowledge his distress beyond a cautionary glance and continues his explanation.
“By their notes they couldn’t create the serum from the original antidote, so they needed your blood. I think as your code words no longer work they decided to take what they needed and as it would be highly unlikely they could use you as their own soldier, they decided to try the previously untested antidote on you.” Zemo finishes and Bucky breathes heavily as if he has ran a marathon.
“Did it… am I….?” Bucky says unable to form the sentence out loud.
“I don’t know, it’s something we will have to test, but with your current state, your inability to recover so quickly from the anaesthesia and blood loss I imagine that it worked at least temporarily… if not permanently.” Zemo says as he stands up again, leaning further into Bucky’s personal space.
Bucky’s fists clench in the bedsheets again as Zemo raises his arm, he’s sure the other man may try to kill him with his bare hands while he’s weak and powerless, but he just goes tense and watches as Zemo reaches over him. The Baron brushes his fingers along Bucky’s flesh arm until they curl around his elbow before pressing his thumb into the purple bruise around the bloodied pinpricks. Bucky lets out a yelp as pain shoots down his arm making his fingers tingle.
“Hmm,” Zemo hums, “from what I read about the Winter Soldier this should have healed hours ago.”
“If I am weakened, it can take longer, it’s not an exact science.” Bucky replies but the waver in his voice betrays his confidence.
His head is spinning, what if he is human again, fully human, no serum, no powers, apart from his gift from Wakanda, his vibranium arm, but it’s made to match him in strength so he isn’t imbalanced, his now possibly human strength.
He’s not entirely sure how he feels if this is all true, if he no longer has the super soldier serum running through his veins, he had wanted this before, wanted to be normal again, as normal as one can be, but the choice had not been his to make, it had, as Zemo said, been made for him once again.
He looks up at Zemo still standing above him, he can’t read the expression on his face and he’s suddenly terrified, he’s lying weak beneath the man who had once said to him super soldiers shouldn’t exist, he could easily kill him now, wrap his hands around his throat and watch as the life left him. But wait, if he’s not a super soldier anymore then Zemo doesn’t need to kill him, he no longer fits that agenda.
“Is that why you saved me? Because I’m possibly just a man now? Not a super soldier.” Bucky asks, his ice blue eyes shining with so many questions.
“No James, I didn’t know they had used the antidote until after I had decided to save you.” Zemo says and once again Bucky can only see honesty, but something else is swimming in those honey eyes, admiration, perhaps? Bucky audibly swallows and Zemo backs away out of his space.
“Rest, we can run some tests to see if you recover from the antidote in the morning, would you like to notify Sam of your current circumstance? I would request that you do not tell him the details of my involvement, at least not until we have ascertained your exact state, I am sincere in my want to help you James.” Zemo says, that same look in his eye, concern, honesty and something else that Bucky can’t name but it seems to fill his chest with a comforting warmth.
“However,” Zemo continues. “If you would rather just go home now I will not stand in your way, but again… please allow me to continue my work, I cannot defeat Hydra from within the Raft.” Zemo says as he reaches for something on the bedside table, Bucky recognises his phone held loosely in the Barons palm.
“I just need to let him know I’m okay, so they stop looking for me.” Bucky says as he stretches out his fingers to ask for the phone. Zemo visibly relaxes and Bucky sees a flash of surprise in the lamp light, he realises the other man had expected him to want to leave.
“Is the phone traceable? I turned it off before coming here, I have a burner if that would be better so they cannot locate me.” Bucky hears Zemo say me but to him it sounds a lot more like he wanted to say us.
“It’s fine, if Sam knows I’m okay he won’t come here, when I turn it on it’ll probably alert him, but he will just see that I am still in Belarus. I’ll make sure no one comes after us.” Again Bucky sees as Zemo is taken aback and wonders why he is trusting the other man so much, because he wants to, he wants to believe the Baron isn’t bad, was just put in bad situations and acted accordingly, like he himself had. So perhaps he was blindly putting his faith in this other man, but right now he wanted to figure this out and he didn’t need to worry Sam more in the process. He wanted to keep this as quiet as possible until he was sure himself.
“Are you trusting me to help you?” Zemo asks seemingly reluctant to give him the phone, and he feels the need to clarify.
“I don’t know why… but yes. I’ll tell Sam I’m safe, slight hiccup in the mission but alls good and I’ll be back in a few days after wrapping things up. Let’s figure out what’s wrong with me and then we can go from there with your predicament.” Bucky says hinting at whether he would tell the relevant authorities he knew of Zemo’s whereabouts or not.
“I endeavour to make you not want to send me back to the raft, James.” Zemo says with a slight smirk as he gently places the phone in Bucky’s outstretched palm.
Bucky switches it on and Zemo’s sits back in the chair, observing, Bucky didn’t expect to get privacy for this phone call but still raises an eyebrow as the Baron watches him intently.
As soon as the phone lights up it’s bombarded with messages and missed calls, he’s quick to act as he’s sure Sam will be alerted and be tracking his phone immediately, he swipes across one of Sam’s missed calls and phones him back. It’s answered immediately.
“Buck?” Sam shouts down the phone and Zemo can hear it from his perch on the chair a few feet away. Bucky switches to speaker phone to allow Zemo to hear the full conversation properly and now the Baron is the one to quirk his eyebrow at Bucky.
“Sam, I’m sorry, I’m fine.” Bucky says trying to sound relaxed but also as apologetic as possible.
“What happened?” Sam says and he still sounds frantic. “I’m about to head out to the airport, get on a plane to Belarus man, SWORD sent operatives they had in west Russia over to scout out the location you said the base was at, they told me there was nothing left of it but rubble and ash, they said there’d be no survivors, didn’t even bother looking for you. I’m about to go dig through the rubble myself.” Sam says his voice still several decibels louder than usual as he rants down the phone and Bucky smiles at the fact his friend was going to try to save him even if he’d been told it was futile.
“I got out before that happened,” he glances at Zemo who is watching him carefully. “I’m sorry to worry you, the mission took longer than I thought, hit a rough patch, my phone died, but I got out, and I’m okay. I’ve only just managed to charge my phone, I’m sorry I worried you man.” He says as little as possible, not saying that he got himself out or that he blew up the base, he didn’t want to lie, but he wasn’t ready to tell the truth yet, and knew Zemo wouldn’t be able to help him if Sam knew that’s who he was with. Captain America would be right there with back-up to take Bucky in for invasive testing and send Zemo straight back to the raft, he knows Sam would be doing it out of all the best intentions but it’s not what would help him right now.
“No pay phones in Belarus? I thought you memorised my number?” Sam says indignantly and Bucky huffs out a laugh.
“Not in the ass end of nowhere, no.” Bucky says smiling down at the little picture of Sam on his phone contacts. He glances up at Zemo who is smiling too, looking at Bucky with that glint in his eye again and it makes Bucky’s smile drop, he swallows and looks back down at the phone.
“So I don’t need to come to Belarus?” Sam asks, “because if you need me there I’ll get on a plane right now a-”
“No, Sammy,” Bucky says cutting him off, trying to sound light hearted, “I’m just gonna wrap up here and I’ll be back in a few days, just tie up some loose ends, you know the drill.”
“Yeah okay, but check in with me tomorrow, yeah? And let me know when you’re on the way back.” Sam says a lot calmer now than he was a few minutes ago.
“Of course man, I’m sorry I worried you.” Bucky says his regret evident in his voice.
“Not a problem, just glad you’re okay. Talk tomorrow.” And then the line beeps off as Sam hangs up.
“Get some rest James, I’ll bring you some dinner in a few hours.” Zemo says as he stands from the chair, moving it back slightly from the bed again.
“What time is it?” Bucky asks as he realises he has no idea, but it’s dark outside he can tell that much though the curtains are drawn.
“It’s just after eight in the evening,” Zemo says clarifying for him, it wasn’t as late as he thought, but it’s mid October and the sun sets earlier, it had been dark when he had entered the Hydra base, so he had been out for almost a whole day. “You’ve been unconscious quite sometime and haven’t eaten all day so I’ll make you something to get your strength back up.”
Zemo leaves the lamp on and crosses the room to the door that Bucky can see in the corner if he focuses long enough for his eyes to adjust to the dark, with the serum this should be easy, his stomach drops at the thought that he isn’t a super soldier anymore, he had wanted this, yearned for it for decades, but what that really means for him frightens him, but he’s not ready to think about what it all entails just yet.
“The bathroom is through the door to your left,” Bucky looks and notices a door on the wall he’s leaning against. “I know you’ve been unconscious for a while but perhaps try to sleep while I cook.” Zemo turns to the door and opens it, the light from the hall illuminates the room a little more and Bucky can see its tastefully decorated but maybe not as lavish as what he would have expected of the Baron. He doesn’t have time to take it all in before Zemo is turning to speak again.
“Any allergies?” He says quirking his head to the side a little as if he wasn’t sure how the the question would be received. Bucky was about to say that food allergies can’t kill a super soldier then realises his mistake.
“No.” He just replies quietly with a small shake of his head, Zemo smiles and nods before quickly departing the room, closing the door behind him and the room is blanketed in darkness once more.
Bucky shuffles back down the headrest and rolls over to curl up on his side. He swaps out his uncomfortably damp sweaty pillow for the clean one next to his head and when he inhales into the cool fabric he realises he’s in Zemo’s bed. The pillow smells like Zemo, and instead of making him want to get out of the bed as quickly as possible he finds that the scent of the other man sits warmly in his chest, he feels surprisingly safe, he decides that something he can question later. There is too much to think about already but rather than dwelling on anything right now he tries to clear his racing mind, the pull of the anaesthetic still sitting heavy in his veins and the dull ache behind his eyes drags him back into a dreamless sleep.