Chapter Text
Steve made tea in the kitchen, Nat and Sharon made themselves comfortable in the living room, and Tony hovered awkwardly in the middle, torn between following Natasha’s uncharacteristically serious cues, and his apparently burning curiosity over Bucky’s nature.
“Sit down, Tony,” Natasha said from Steve’s ugliest chair.
“But… but…”
“Sit.”
Tony made a frustrated noise and obeyed, then proceeded to ask his questions louder. “So are you like… is it a condition? Did you find a cursed artifact? Did somebody put you through some sort of mutation process?”
“He’s always been himself, Tony,” Steve said firmly. “He’s just a different form of person than you and I,” he continued, searching Bucky’s face for discomfort.
Bucky, for his part, seemed remarkably unbothered. “He means I’ve never been human,” Bucky clarified good-naturedly in a carrying voice.
“So then… what are you?”
Sharon stifled a groan and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, but Bucky was still unfazed. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I was created in an occult ritual, but it was an accident. The ritual was supposed to turn out different, but I popped into existence instead,” he said mildly, taking cups from Steve as he passed them and arranging them on a tray.
“You’re shitting me.” Bucky snorted and shook his head. “Wait, so you can just… just change your appearance at will? That doesn’t make any scientific sense whatsoever. That’s not even camouflage, it’s matter-“
“Tony, now is not the time,” Natasha interrupted, to Steve’s relief.
“He had horns, Nat, have you seen them?”
“If I promise to explain what I can later, can we move forward with our evening?” Bucky asked, carrying the tray over to the coffee table, followed by Steve with the kettle.
“Deal,” Tony agreed, eagerly accepting a mug for Steve to fill.
“You said you got bad news from Europe?” Steve prompted Natasha.
She sighed and frowned, looking down at her own steaming tea. “That sigil Rumlow had Bucky on, it was for siphoning his magic,” she confirmed. “Apparently it’s designed to drain power from him and tie it into talismans. Rumlow could give a talisman to someone and they’d be able to access the stolen power there, hypothetically enjoying enhanced healing, strength, etc.” Steve was struggling to tamp down his rage, but Tony was practically vibrating with the effort of keeping quiet. “Unfortunately, Rumlow really knew what he was doing, but it wasn’t out of cleverness or innovation. He’s tapped into whatever Pierce is doing over in Europe.”
“Pierce?” Steve asked. “You mentioned him before.”
Natasha nodded. “He’s an old money zillionaire that’s been living between France and the UK for the past dozen years or so. The people I ended up talking to are trying to connect him to a couple of gruesome crime scenes and potentially a trafficking ring. A few other giant sigils like the one in Rumlow’s dungeon have been found over the past decades. Like that one in Switzerland,” She pulled out her phone and held it up for the rest of them to see as she began swiping through images of blood-splashed floors, marked with the same exact design Bucky had drawn from memory. They all had chains, too. "Even though the right people finally realized there was a pattern over the years and they’ve tied it to activity in at least nine different countries in Europe alone, they haven’t been able to nail a single goddamn person or positively identify a single fucking victim.” Sharon made a muffled, angry noise in her throat. “Pretty sure Alexander Pierce is a key player, but…” she trailed off and shook her head, scowling.
Tony made grabby hands to take a closer look at the pictures on Nat’s phone and Steve looked over at Bucky. He was staring blankly at the floor, head low, his eyes far away. Steve reached out to grab his hand, but hesitated, unsure of what the other man needed.
After a stretch of pained silence, Bucky opened his mouth with a dry snap. “I wasn’t even Brock’s first victim. How… how long has this been going on?”
Nat shut her eyes for a fraction of a second too long for it to be a blink and Steve’s sense of foreboding skyrocketed. A muscle ticked in Sharon’s jaw and even Tony waited, looking troubled. “At least since the end of World War Two, probably longer.” Tony leaned back in his seat, visibly appalled, and Bucky shuddered hard.
“Nine European nations?” Steve reiterated. Nat nodded. “And you said Pierce is old money?”
She nodded again. “Looks like this thing has roots in some pretty old bloodlines. Or it did. The fact that some pissant American hick like Rumlow got his hands on this information is bad, but the fact that he seems to have Pierce’s active support is worse. It’s an enormous change in pattern, and it points to expansion.”
Bucky shuddered again. “So that’s where he learned it all. Experts taught him. That’s how he knew… everything.”
Steve looked over to see his eyes wide and swimming with unshed tears. “That’s where he learned what he learned, Buck,” Steve stated, voice hard. Bucky gave him a look that was equal parts despairing and incredulous. “So someone at some point figured out how to manipulate and control the natural magic of beings like you-“
“Fucking pardon?” Tony finally blurted. “Magic?”
Steve soundly ignored him. “But you and I both know Rumlow didn’t understand shit, and neither do the assholes he got his info from.”
Bucky buried his face in his hands but nodded.
“Steve’s right,” Natasha said seriously. “This shit is late medieval/early modern.” She snatched her phone back from Tony and opened a different folder of images- what looked like scans of old texts with designs similar to the sigil in question, surrounded by spidery handwriting in various languages. “They were still burning witches when this got written down by some moldy old assholes.”
“Extremely backward, extremely religious assholes,” Steve stressed. “Of course their perspective on any of this is so hateful. But it’s skewed nonsense, Buck.” Bucky stared at him hard, expression inscrutable.
“That’s all fine and good,” Sharon said, rubbing at her temple, “but Rumlow could be back any day at this point, and we don’t know what kind of extra trouble he might bring with him when he comes. Apparently, we’re dealing with some kind of international organization with the deepest of pockets and enough influence to be legally invisible. Not to mention decades if not centuries of practice.”
Steve felt Bucky lean against his side and press tight. He wrapped his arm around the other man’s shoulders, noticing a faint tremble. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Alright, so what are the things we can influence?”
“Uh, so, context clues-” Tony said irritably, “we’re obviously talking captivity, torture, and murder, right?” Natasha nodded. “Can’t these places be burned down?”
Steve felt Bucky huff a laugh and caught Sharon’s hastily hidden smirk. Nat, however, shook her head soberly. “Breaking into, burning down, or similar reactive actions would be counterproductive in the extreme. Evidence and due process are vital if we want anything to stick legally, which is our best chance at further consequences for the people involved in this nightmare. If we can nail them into the international investigation, all the better.”
“What about Clint’s work?” Steve asked.
“He’s got the framework for at least a trafficking narrative around Rumlow and several names. Concrete evidence as opposed to hearsay, however, is proving tricky.” Nat fixed her gaze on Bucky. “I’d like your blessing to pull Clint in a little deeper. Tell him more.”
“May as well,” Bucky shrugged, but Steve could hear he didn’t like it.
“So we can’t do anything about Rumlow’s customers or accomplices,” Steve confirmed. “What do we need to focus on before he actually gets back? Obviously keeping Bucky secure is the priority, but what else can we do to be proactive?”
“Ideally? Catch him red-handed,” Nat said. “Either with torture porn or with a new captive or some such undeniable proof. We’ve got numbers and knowledge of our perp on our side.”
“And me,” Tony piped up.
“And Tony,” Nat agreed. “Speaking of closed-circuit surveillance…”
“Now you’re talking my language!” Tony clapped his hands and rubbed them together gleefully. “But you’re telling me everything you know about the hocus pocus shit.”
Sharon leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and rubbing her knuckles. Steve didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so openly worried. “Listen kid,” she said loudly, looking over at Tony, “before you get involved, you need to know that you’re stepping in something extremely dangerous. People are dying.”
“I mean, not to brag, but I’ve dealt with dungeons, torture, and murderers before,” Tony said, fake-polishing his nails on his shirt.
“Yes, yes,” Natasha waved him off, “you and Bucky can bond over that later,” Tony waggled his eyebrows at Bucky, “but Sharon’s right.”
“I’m likely already rumbled,” Sharon continued, “but hopefully Nat and Clint’s covers are still solid.”
“They know you know?” Steve asked, brow furrowed in alarm.
“Someone broke into my desk at work and tossed it,” Sharon shrugged, folding her arms and frowning hard.
“And we’re not really in the place to be assuming coincidence,” Nat continued.
“So if that line’s been crossed, we need to be more careful than ever about Bucky’s security. Obviously,” she waved her hand toward him, “he would be safest if he stayed hidden.”
Bucky folded his arms and frowned. “And he’s already expressed his feelings toward hiding in Steve’s apartment,” he reminded her with a scowl, and Steve just barely managed to stop himself from arguing for Sharon’s suggestion. “I’m not getting erased again. I have a life here and he’s not ruining that for me.”
Sharon rolled her eyes and huffed a sigh of frustration. “Fine, so you won’t hide for your own protection,” She narrowed her eyes to glare at him briefly before fixing her gaze on Steve. “That means we need to focus on passive security.” He nodded eagerly, loosening his hold around Bucky's shoulders and leaning toward her. “Including on facility grounds. Being seen in town with you, Sam or Riley is enough to give away his location, so seeing as he’s not willing to hide, we need to assume that his location will be discovered eventually.
While Sharon drilled Steve on safety measures like passwords, an appropriate buddy system, dual attention and the like, Nat and Tony started talking technology. Sharon was stressing bullet points, emphasizing the need to brief Sam and Riley on all of them as well, when Steve noticed that Bucky was more withdrawn than ever. His arms were crossed tightly and his knees were pressed tightly together, ankles tucked up against his seat.
“What’s up, Buck?” Steve asked, watching Bucky rub his thumbs over his upper arms, folding them tight around his hunched form.
“I hate that I’m the reason you’re all mixed up in this,” he shrugged. “You’re in danger because you've been good to me. That’s ass.”
Sharon responded first. “Bucky, I wasn’t bullshitting you when I thanked you for telling us about what happened. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t know anything was wrong with Rumlow or his cronies, which would be much worse.” Her face was open and earnest, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.
“And even if you’d chosen to move on and travel elsewhere, this would still be our priority,” Natasha added. “There’s a dungeon in our town, Bucky. That’s as urgent as it gets.”
“You did good, Buck,” Steve said, squeezing his shoulders gently. “These fuckers don’t get to hide anymore. You did that. You did good.”
* * *
The group didn’t stay for long. Once Sharon had said her piece and Tony and Natasha had coordinated, Steve gathered up their mostly empty cups and Bucky followed him to the kitchen. Nat and Sharon took the hint, shepherding Tony as they went.
“Wait! I want to see Bucky’s tail!”
“Tony,” Nat chided.
“Oh come on, just for a second?”
“Later, Tony,” Bucky called, looking very tired.
“Fiiiiiine,” Tony whined as Natasha steered him out of the apartment. “Holy shit, this trip is turning out way better than expected, what a twist!”
“It’s good to see a little meat on your bones,” Sharon said to Bucky just before she closed the door behind them, which was as close to an affectionate farewell as Steve had ever heard from her.
The two of them stood in silence for a long moment after their three visitors had left, letting the weight of the evening’s events settle. Bucky moved first, unfolding his arms and turning to burry his face between Steve’s pecks. He wrapped his arms around Bucky and stood that way for a long while. Eventually Bucky pulled away and lead their slow way into the hall.
“Are you still trying to shower tonight, or do you want me to get you up early enough to shower before work tomorrow?” Steve asked him.
Bucky let his head fall back with a loud groan. “Ah, damn. I wanted to be horny, but I’m fucking exhausted.” He swallowed and glanced back at Steve. “And… and a little scared.”
Steve let his breath out in a gust and grabbed Bucky’s hand. “It would be way weirder if you weren’t,” he tried joking lamely. Bucky gave him a pity-grimace that was a gesture at a smile. “Buck, just thinking back on how scared you were to tell me about… about yourself, uh, your differences and needs.”
“Smooth, Steve,” Bucky snorted. At least this time the smile was real.
“You nearly died rather than reveal yourself, Buck. I can’t imagine how terrifying all of this is after he life you’ve lived.”
Bucky sighed and his face slowly fell again. “I’m not any less scared of my true nature being known by strangers. Every person that learns what I can be used for, that’s a… it’s just such a risk, Steve, I’m not sure you understand.”
Steve took up Bucky’s braced hand so he could hold both in his own. “Oh Buck, I wish I could.”
“No, you don’t. But that’s okay, I wouldn’t want you to.”
“So why do it?” Steve asked, wishing he didn’t have to. He brushed his thumbs over the backs of Bucky’s hands as they stood in the hall, dreading his honesty. “Why not go back to hiding?”
Bucky took a while to answer, eyes shifting bac and forth as he mulled over his words. “I’m committed, I guess,” he finally replied. “It’s certainly not something I ever would have chosen, but he chose it for me, didn’t he? They all did. Now I’m in it, and there’s nothing that can undo that.”
Steve screwed his face up at the sheer injustice of it all, burying his nose in Bucky’s hair and pulling him a little closer against himself. “You don’t have to be. You could… I’m sure the rest of us could-“
“Steve, it’s okay,” Bucky sighed. “I just need to figure out how to live with the ghosts, right?”
Steve let out a weary breath of his own. “Sure, Buck. It’s just so unfair.”
“Ain’t it always? You don’t deserve the shit that haunts you, plenty of folks don’t. But we’re haunted all the same. Nothing to be done about it, neither. All we can do is… try to do right by ourselves and our ghosts.”
“You’re being very brave about all this.”
“Not trying to be. Just… god, Stevie, all those unknown victims. All those people that got erased before I did. I can’t stand it. So I’ve got to, get it? I’ve got to honor the damage done- to me and to the others. The best way I can think to do that is to live. Cling to joy and freedom… and live. Maybe one day I will have earned it.”
Steve knew there were no words in any language to convey the magnitude of his admiration, so he made due with the quiet knowledge he was holding the most extraordinary person he’d ever met in his arms. “You already deserve it, sweetheart. You’re enough, you’ve always been enough. Better than. I’d do anything to see you get the life you deserve.”