[ WWII AU ] a ghost story

[from_the_outside]

It's been almost two years since she's been home, and little by little, the grief has gotten easier to live with.

It hasn't gone away. But she's able to focus on her job, watch movies, chat with friends, sleep most nights. She still dreams about him, but the dreams are tinged with wistful longing and only sometimes does she wake up with tears on her cheeks. She can't have his picture out in this apartment, Kate's apartment, but it's safe in the mountain house, along with his last letter to her, and she has a scan on her phone to look at when the long day is over and she's in bed, the stars from the lamp he'd given her filling her dark room.

Steve has helped, more than she could ever explain, and she hopes she's helped him in return. Aside from a few deeply classified missions here and there, they haven't worked together all that much, but she still sees him almost every day. In the halls, she's undercover as his mild-mannered neighbor, Kate, but in her secure apartment they can talk over anything, everything.

And it works. Every day is a little easier. They lean on each other when they need to, and they spend hours remembering and reminiscing about Bucky, talking shop, chatting about how Steve's fitting into the future. It's nice. She still misses Bucky, an ache that never really goes away, but they can both breathe through it, work through it, live through it.

She's on her way up from the basement laundry machines when she hears a familiar step in the hall, and has to smile to herself – first her own, then Kate's sweeter, more open one. "Hey, neighbor."

Comments

[from_the_outside]

She's running, feet thudding over the ground to get her to the crane, and out of the corner of her eye she sees Steve, Nat, and Sam all swarming the Winter Soldier. Nat stumbles back from the kick, then wraps a nylon line around his ankles with a quick fling as Sam smashes into him from the sky.

Sharon scrambles up into the crane seat and slams the controls into motion. The crane, slow but powerful, begins to crank the line up, while Nat does her best to keep the Soldier's ankles and feet down.

[nerves_of_ice]

The movement of the crane pulls him off balance before he can complete the reset twist, stretching him upward, partially immobilized. His face twists in a silent, agonized snarl, and he reaches behind his back with his right hand and grabs a silver ball grenade from his belt. He flicks his thumb to set it and throws it hard at the dock between the two targets.

He'll take damage from it, he knows, but the mission will be complete, and he'll heal. He should remain operational.

[from_the_outside]

Sam swoops to cover Nat, while Steve leaps forward, shield at the ready. He slams the shield over the grenade and covers it with his body, but even so, Sharon can see how the blast rocks him.

Nat darts out from behind Sam's wings and points an arm; a thin grappling line shoots from her wrist and encircles the Soldier's right wrist before she hauls back, trying to keep him from reaching for any other toys.

[nerves_of_ice]

He pulls with his right arm, trying to free himself, but can't do so... or not immediately. He makes the decision to hold off trying further at the moment, as they don't appear to want him dead, and he might be able to use his strength to advantage when they least expect it.

He dangles from the chain, entangled by net and line, and watches them in wary silence.

[from_the_outside]

Sharon brings the crane to a halt and hops out, then runs to Steve. "Steve," she gasps, horrified, and tries to get him to turn so she can look at his torso. "How badly did he get you?"

He puts an arm around her, cradling the other in front of his stomach, and shakes his head at her. "Later," he says, and holds her gaze until she nods.

Still, she keeps her arm around him as they both turn to look at the Soldier – at Bucky. Sam and Nat stand, wary and watching, on the other side; Nat's expression might have been carved from marble.

Steve addresses the Soldier. Bucky. "Do you know who I am?"

[nerves_of_ice]

His glance flicks down to where the man's clutching his middle, then to the blonde woman who's clinging to him, worried, and back to his face, assessing the situation.

He's told him this before, but it's worth repeating. "You're my mission," he says, flat and empty.

[from_the_outside]

"My name," Steve says, stubborn. "Do you know my name?"

He waits a beat, then tips his head toward Sharon. "Or hers?"

Another, and he glances at Nat. "Or hers?"

[nerves_of_ice]

He has no intention of revealing the details of the briefing he'd been given. He considers him in silence for a few seconds, then tips his head toward the woman at his side.

"She calls you Steve."

[from_the_outside]

"Yes," Steve says. "I'm Steve Rogers. This is Sharon Carter."

He's looking at Bucky hard, and she knows he's hoping to see any glint of recognition. "You know us, Bucky. You know us both. All three of us," he amends, with a glance at Nat.

[nerves_of_ice]

Why do they keep calling him that?

(I can do this all day)

Frustration rises, threatening to choke him. "No, I don't," he grits through clenched teeth.

[from_the_outside]

"Yes, you do."

It's Sharon who says it this time, tense by Steve's side. She's quiet for a moment, then hums, low and pleasant and as clear as she can make them, the tune to 'Moonlight Serenade.'

[nerves_of_ice]

He stares at her. Uncertainty flickers in his eyes.

(dance with me)

Abruptly-- "Is that why the lamp?"

Moonlight. Is that the connection? But why?

[from_the_outside]

She steadfastly ignores the look Nat gives her. This is all beyond classified, and it's exploding all over them, but she doesn't care. If it helps him remember –

"Yes," she confirms, as a rising flood of hope almost chokes her. Had he noticed the lamp, after all? "That, and – and other reasons."

Steve's a steady, solid, hopeful presence at her side. "Brooklyn," he says. "Coney Island, the Dodgers."

[nerves_of_ice]

The red-haired woman gives a sharp look to the others. She'd addressed him in his own language before, that he does remember. "они тоже русские?" he asks, glancing at her.

As he does, he shifts his right hand a little, pulling against the grappling line, spreading his palm open and upward to indicate lack of harm as he moves, slow and easy. She gives a sharp warning tug and watches him like a hawk, but doesn't try to stop his movement.

He puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out the ceramic lamp, turning his open palm up so they can see it's not a grenade, then tosses it to the blonde couple.

[from_the_outside]

Her heart leaps into her throat as she realizes what he's tossing, but she's still too sluggish to catch it in time.

Steve, though, is more than quick enough, even injured. He catches it carefully, then holds it out to Sharon, who lifts it for Bucky to see. "You bought this," she tells him. "In France."

[nerves_of_ice]

First New York - he knows the name of the city mentioned, even if he doesn't know why the man was throwing it at him, now France? None of this makes any sense. How could he have-- when would he have, why would he?

"They're not Russian." The redhead answers him in English, and he thinks he sees a flicker of sympathy in her eyes, for reasons he doesn't understand, he doesn't understand, he doesn't understand anything that's happening. She continues, just as soft, "And neither are you, not really. Not originally."

Panic and nausea well up in him, threatening to drown him, and he twists wildly against his restraints, trying with all his might to tear himself free as a hoarse, raw cry escapes him.

"You're LYING!"

[from_the_outside]

"She isn't," Sharon insists. "Neither are we."

He twists and tugs, his arm whining under the strain, and he has to be hurting himself. She sees Steve tense, but he doesn't move forward to stop it, either. "You aren't Russian. You're from Brooklyn. You were a Sergeant in the United States Army. And Steve Rogers is your best friend."

[nerves_of_ice]

He throws his head back and howls, the cords standing out in his neck as the scream is torn out of him. As he does, he yanks his right arm toward him, jerking it away from the woman with all his might to try to get free.

The line cuts into his wrist and forearm, drawing blood, but the gambit works. He claws with his right hand at the chain above his left wrist, trying with desperate strength to wrench himself upward, trying to drag his body free of the restraints that anchor him to the dock below.

[from_the_outside]

None of them, it turns out, can quite stand this.

Not the scream. Not the way he struggles, like he'd kill himself to get free. Steve, throwing caution to the wind, starts forward – with what plan, Sharon has no idea, she only knows he's reacting to the same agony that's ripping her apart inside – only for a scatter of gunfire to make him duck and whirl.

"Stand down, Cap!" comes Rumlow's enhanced voice, and Steve grips at his shield, apparently torn between fighting and running.

Nat suffers no such indecision. "We have to get out of here," she snaps. Steve throws an anguished glance at Bucky, and Sam spreads his wings, holding out his hand to her. "What's the call, Cap?" he asks.

[marvel_npc]

She doesn’t wait for Steve to answer. He won’t leave his friend willingly, she knows it. He’s a better person than she is.

So she’ll just have to be the kind of person they need now. “You can’t save him if you’re dead!” She grabs Steve by the wrist and waves her free hand at Sam. “Take Sharon, get her out of here — Steve, come on, come with me!”

[from_the_outside]

Steve's anguished indecision is blatantly visible on his face, and apparently that's more than enough for Sam, who leaps forward to grab Sharon – she struggles, reflexive, before putting her arms around his neck – and takes off into the air.

As the wind snaps her hair against her face, she looks over Sam's shoulder, keeping her eyes on Bucky until the very last second.

[nerves_of_ice]

Without their efforts to keep him bound, he's able to rip himself free of the net and cables. As they fall away and he pulls himself up along the chain, he sees the redheaded woman tackle the blond man -

-- Steve, his name is Steve, Steve Rogers --

(Steve?)

- knocking him off the side of the dock and into the water below.

They go under and don't come up. The Winter Soldier drops to the ground and whirls his left arm in a circle, resetting it, then snatches a weapon from the first STRIKE agent to reach him and stalks to the edge of the dock.

He fires a spray of bullets into the water in a wide pattern, trying to hit anyone who might be hiding below.

[marvel_npc]

As the water closes over them, his sanity returns. Heart aching, he grabs Nat and swims strongly down, hoping she can hold her breath for as long as they need. Once he's judged that their depth is safe, he strokes hard for distance, only kicking for the surface once Nat's breath starts bubbling from her lips.

They surface cautiously, but he'd managed to get them a good distance away. Not far enough not to hear the sound of gunfire, but far enough that no one's likely to spot them without some pretty impressive luck.

"Hold on to me," he tells Nat, grim. Once she's locked her arms around his neck, he dives once more, forcing himself to swim away, away from his best friend.

[nerves_of_ice]

No bullets ping from the shield; no blood rises to mark a bit. He quarters the edge of the dock all the way to the end and back, scanning the area, while Rumlow orders a search, but there's no sign of them.

He can hear Rollins talking to Rumlow, low, thinking he's far enough away not to be overheard. "Did you see how they had him strung up? Interrogation, you think? Rogers never struck me as that kind of guy."

Rumlow snorts. "He's not. He's weak that way. But Romanoff'd do it, and Thirteen'd help."

"Think he broke?" Rollins asks. Rumlow shakes his head; the Winter Soldier can see it out of the corner of his eye. "Him? No way. He yells louder than that during reprogramming, the docs say. I'd kinda like to see it."

[marvel_npc]

They surface again, even further away, and Steve swims in strong strokes for the shore, his head screaming and his heart aching.

Nat must have a million questions, but she keeps them to herself, for the moment, for which he's grateful. It was working, wasn't it? Was that why Bucky looked and sounded so tortured, why he tried so hard to break free?

What had they done to him?