Chapter Text
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Steve wakes up warm. Details come to him in slow, easy pieces: the weight of Bucky's hand on his chest stroking broad circles, the solid wall of his body tucked up against Steve's own. The coolness of the sheet underneath his toes, peeking out from the blanket. The low hum of the heater kicking on. He shifts a little, and feels Bucky press closer against him, hand sweeping down his belly.
Steve makes a soft, pleased sound. His whole body is heavy and relaxed with sleep. They adjust position gradually, Steve tilted back, legs a little spread, most of his weight on Bucky. Bucky's hand rubbing Steve's dick through his shorts, coaxing him along.
"Ahh," Steve says - a dumb little sound, hardly more than an exhale, pushing his hips up into Bucky's grip. He's not awake enough for much else - turns his head and pants yeah, shit, Buck into the humid air between them, back arching reflexively from how good it feels. Bucky presses a kiss to his neck, sucks idly on the skin there for a second before shifting away and rolling Steve onto his back.
They tug Steve's shorts off together, a little uncoordinated. And Steve loves this part: the little pause as Bucky settles between his knees and takes Steve in hand, his breath warm on Steve's thigh. The anticipation of what comes next that makes him shiver all over. And finally the wet heat of Bucky's mouth on the head of his dick, swallowing him down.
Bucky doesn't waste any time. No fancy tricks, just the steady slow suck Steve likes best, the kind that makes the whole world disappear out from under him. Steve's had girls who were good at this, a few who were great, but never long enough that they got to know him the way Bucky did - the way they've relearned each other.
After, he pulls Bucky up to kneel over him, pushing a few pillows between Steve and the headboard so he can return the favor. Steve likes it like this, something they never really did when Steve was small. Their height difference made the position feel ridiculous and Steve too
prone to choking but now - now he can feel Bucky's thighs shaking on either side of his chest, can grab Bucky's ass and feel the lazy flex of his hips as he fucks Steve's mouth.
A few strands of Steve's hair catches in the plating on Bucky's fingers, little flares of pain that feel sweet in the moment. Bucky's not tugging so much as he's rubbing his hands over Steve's scalp, little scratches with the fingernails on his right hand, his eyes closed and mouth parted, swollen from sucking Steve off. Steve's eyes are also closed, breathing slow and steady through his nose, letting Buck take his time with it. He runs his hands up Bucky's sides, tracing the lean line of muscle there.
A hitch in Bucky's breathing lets Steve know he's close. Steve looks up through his lashes to see Bucky watching him, his expression blown wide and breathless. Steve lets his own eyes soften, still focused on keeping his throat open and his jaw relaxed. Bucky smiles back and comes like Steve had asked him nicely to, easing back just far enough not to make Steve gag. He can feel Bucky's toes curl with it.
They kiss for a while, Bucky still more or less sitting on Steve's chest, the moment stretching on and on. Steve feels like he could sleep for a year. He feels like he could take on the world. Eventually Bucky leans back and stretches long and luxurious, letting Steve drink in the sight of him.
"Shower," he says, and unfolds, pressing one last kiss to Steve's forehead. Steve rolls onto his side, folds an arm under his head, and falls back asleep with a smile.
When he wakes up, Bucky's side of the bed is cold. Steve smooths a hand over Buck's pillow, making sleepy sounds to himself. The first few months he and Buck started sleeping together, an empty bed would've sent Steve into a panic - that Bucky was gone, that HYDRA had come for him, that Steve had dreamed the whole thing.
This morning, he only feels relaxed. Rested. Some nice morning sex has a lot to do with that, of course, but the last few weeks have been - different, for both of them. He hasn't taken any missions since the night by the river. They've left the Tower a few times to take the train over to Brooklyn and walk around their old neighborhoods, visit the Brooklyn Museum. In a heavy coat and cap, Steve has gone unrecognized, but Bucky mostly speaks for them when speaking has to be done: to order food or coffee or beer or once, embarrassingly, to ask directions.
A few days ago they rode out to Queens to visit Bucky's family at Mount Carmel. Steve had been out before, so he'd led the way through quiet rows of graves. They didn't talk as they made their way up the hill, Bucky roving off the path occasionally to pick something up off the ground and tuck it into his pockets.
The Barnes family plot was small, close enough to the parkway that they could hear cars rushing by, like the wind. Bucky went to his knees in front of his parents' graves. Steve stood a few feet back, watching. He knew the dates well enough.
Peter Barnes
1895 - 1981
Beloved Husband and Father
Naema Barnes
1897 - 1949
Beloved Wife and Mother
"Your dad converted before he died, so that he could be buried with your mom," Steve said to Bucky's bowed head. "He never remarried. Your brother's buried in Israel, he emigrated there in the early 90s. We'll visit Rebecca when you're ready, she's over with her husband's family just down the way."
"Esther?" Bucky asked, hardly more than a rasp of air. His metal fingers flashed in the cold sunlight as he leaned forward and started pulling grass and dead leaves away from the stones.
"She married a Catholic," Steve said. "She's in Cypress Hill. We can walk over there."
"Okay," Bucky said, and pulled three pebbles out of his pocket. He didn't hesitate, placing the third pebble on top of the biggest headstone of the group, even though he hadn't even glanced at it once as he'd cleaned his parents' stones, and he didn't look back as he walked away.
After, they had lunch at a Dominican spot underneath the elevated tracks, the M train thundering overhead every ten or fifteen minutes. "I don't know any of the prayers anymore," Bucky told Steve, bent over his food.
"Do you want to go to temple sometime?" Steve asked, but Bucky only shook his head.
Yesterday they'd gone to Bruce with some of Bucky's old medical files and spent a few hours learning what had probably happened to Bucky's body since the early 60s, and what was going on in his brain when he went away, and left with a begrudging compromise between Bucky and Bruce about maybe running some tests. Last night Steve had confirmed plans with Peggy for them to visit in a few weeks, when she was recovered from the cold that had been plaguing her.
Life felt - quiet. Insulated. It was a feeling Steve wasn't used to, one that usually made him a little itchy with inaction. Something had shifted in both of them, that night on the waterfront, and it was -
It's good. He feels good.
Steve tugs some shorts on and pads out to the kitchen. Bucky's sitting shirtless at the table, his files spread out in the air around him. He's dividing his attention between some blood tests from 1952 and a grainy video of Renke from the same year, speaking German in a soft, quivering sort of voice. Steve hates this video. It's far from the worst that they recovered in Kiev, but even the beginning makes Steve's stomach want to crawl out of his throat.
Bucky reaches out as Steve passes, strokes a hand up his arm without looking away from whatever he's doing. Steve puts a hand on Bucky's shoulder, squeezing a little accidentally when he yawns.
" - the steroid compound I've created mimics the effects of Vita-Rays on the subject's musculature," Renke is saying. "We've seen rapid growth over the last few days and when the swelling subsides we will begin strength testing." Steve grimaces at the video display and goes to get coffee started.
"Your phone's been buzzing," Bucky tells him. Steve yawns again, and reaches for his phone from where he'd left it on the counter last night, trying to remember his schedule. Bucky has another appointment with Bruce - Steve will be on the Colbert Report tomorrow - Sam's official move is next week, hooray! -
Steve drops his phone right off the counter when he sees the screen, and has to scramble on the ground for it. He peeks at the screen and almost drops it all over again. "Nine thousand alerts!" he says, shocked. Thirty five voicemails, ninety one texts - good God.
"It's been buzzing," Bucky says again, unconcerned.
"I didn't know you could have this many emails," Steve says, scrolling rapidly.
Agent Skye (07:48 11/1/14)
So I guess we know who's been talking to grassyfuckingknoll
If I'd known I'd have done something to stop it. I'm sorry
Sam! (06:19 11/1/14)
Dude
Have you seen this???
http://tinyurl.com/pd78yy3
Your boy is all over it
Unknown (05:21 11/1/14)
If u need out of country I can help
Steve ignores the other texts and opens the link from Sam. It goes to Buzzfeed News, which he wasn't expecting. There have been over 30,000 reblogs since it was posted - four hours ago. The title says, "Captain's Orders: the Truth About Project Insight."
"Goddammit," Steve says.
He hands the phone out to Bucky, whose fingers click against the metal as he takes it. Steve pours them both coffee as Bucky reads through the article. Steve's tablet vibrates in harmony with the phone as the number of alerts and reblogs climb.
"Captain," JARVIS says, from everywhere, "your presence is requested on the eighteenth floor, as soon as possible."
"Give us a minute," Steve says, watching Bucky's face.
In the background, Renke prattles on, " - the arm is of course is the most visible enhancement of the subject. Currently, use in accordance with his newfound strength has lead to injury in the natural tissue under the plating, well outside of set tolerances." An operating table is visible in the background of the video, a body moving sluggishly on top of it.
After a few minutes - hours, it feels like, Bucky stops scrolling, locks the phone and hands it back to Steve. They look at each other in silence. Every few seconds, the phone buzzes in Steve's hand.
"We can leave," Steve says. "Start over somewhere else. Natasha can help us put together new identities."
Bucky snorts. "I could leave," he says.
It's true - Steve is so known but it hurts anyway to hear him say it. "We can leave," Steve says again. "They'll throw you in prison."
"They can try," Bucky says.
Tony's voice comes from the ceiling. Bucky doesn't even break eye contact. "Hey Cap, so we kinda need you in the war room, like, ASAP. I don't know if you've seen the internet today but you kinda broke it."
"Give us a minute," Steve says again. "Bucky, what do you want to do?"
"It was nearly a week between when the subject injured himself and when the limb was actually amputated, so of course there was extensive damage to the surrounding tissues," Renke is saying. "The next planned upgrade should yield much more favorable -"
He's interrupted by a muted crash as the body in the background falls off the table. Renke looks over his shoulder and sighs. He goes to crouch over the body, half out of frame. Off camera, a voice asks, "Do you need a moment, to take care of that?"
"It's quite all right," Renke answers, helping Bucky to a sitting position, propped up against the side of the table. Bucky reaches vaguely towards Renke's face with his left hand, his movements slow and unfocused. He can barely hold his own head up. "No no," Renke says, as gently as if he's speaking to a child, pushing away Bucky's hand.
Renke looks back at the camera, his face lighting up. "Actually, would you like a demonstration of his healing capabilities? It is simply fascinating. You can actually visibly see the cell regrowth, it is a very impressive testament to our efforts. We spent nearly two years conditioning him against reaction and we have very effective safety measures, so it's quite safe. Shall we start with third degree burns?"
"Bucky," Steve says again. His voice cracks in the middle. "All those things they say about you, they're not - they don't know about what happened, they don't know what was done to you. They'll hunt you down. They're not gonna understand."
Bucky looks up at the video, at himself sixty two years ago, braced over Renke's shoulders as the doctor helps him carefully back onto the table and begins to prep him for the demonstration. The Bucky on video is speaking, mumbling something in English to the doctor, but the words are so slurred as to be incomprehensible.
"Maybe they should," he says.
-
Stark's team had definitely, absolutely, very strongly, Captain Rogers, we really can't tell you how much, advised him to cancel his scheduled appearance on the Colbert Report and to hold a press conference later that day to address the viral article, 'Captain's Orders.'
They had advised him to distance himself from the anonymous collective of former SHIELD agents who had authored it - the political situation still being so fraught.
They had advised him not to comment on the existence of the Winter Soldier, or the manhunt launched on Reddit within hours of the article's posting, or the Kickstarter that had been created for the victims of HYDRA.
"No," Steve had said, and kept on saying it, and eighteen hours or so later finds himself standing on the set of the Colbert Report, pestering the camera operators while they set up. It's half the size of the Daily Show set and everyone is very friendly and clearly unsure of whether they're allowed to shoo him back into the green room.
Captain's Orders was the lead story on Rachel Maddow and Glenn Beck last night. Steve himself is the top trending hashtag on Twitter, Tumblr and Pinterest. The Kickstarter, named Ordinary Heroes, has raised over fifty grand. The manhunt for the Winter Soldier has turned up the unsolved murders of two policemen the day after the Helicarriers went down, but only false leads on his current whereabouts.
Steve has introduced himself to nearly every person on set. He's so keyed up he keeps catching himself bouncing on his heels. Sam's hanging out in the front row, focused on his cell phone, letting Steve do aggressively friendly laps around the room.
An hour until showtime. There were already people lined up outside the building when they arrived, and Steve has already been forbidden from buying all of them coffee to keep warm. The show staff will send the audience members through security and then let them into the studio a few dozen at a time. Then the warm up guy, then Colbert will come out to do a Q&A out of character. Then the show - and whatever happens after.
The show runners aren't questioning why Steve has chosen them to address the article; they want to turn over the whole episode to him, whatever he wants to discuss. There are a multitude of Stark Industry lawyers backstage, hashing out last minute details with Comedy Central's legal team, but Steve isn't too concerned with someone pulling the plug. Not many people say no to Captain America and make it stick.
He sits down next to Sam, his leg twitching. Sam reaches out and sets a hand over his knee, not looking up from his phone. "Chill, baby," he says.
"I am chill," Steve says, and Sam looks up long enough to aim a meaningfully raised eyebrow in his direction.
"You having second thoughts?" he asks.
"No," Steve says, and then, "Maybe."
"It's what he wants, right?" Sam asks, and Steve nods. Sam pats his knee. "So chill."
"I am chill," Steve grumbles again, and then perks up. Stephen Colbert has surfaced from back stage and is walking over, beaming from ear to ear.
"Captain Rogers, Staff Sergeant Wilson, it's an honor to meet both of you," he says. There's a round of handshaking. "I wanted to let you know, we've got the official all clear from Legal to proceed with tonight's show - no limits. Before entering the studio, we'll be asking the audience to sign the waiver you requested, and when they're seated the additional security measures will be explained in full. Anyone who wants to leave will be allowed to do so then."
"Glad to hear it," Steve says, though he wasn't expecting anything less. There's a beat of slightly awkward silence, and Steve offers, "That's a nice shield you've got, up on your wall."
Colbert laughs, looking genuinely pleased. He's a tall man, who looks younger than Steve's pretty sure he is, even under the stage makeup he's got on. "It was a gift from the directors of The Star Spangled Man," he says.
Sam snorts. "Hated that movie," he says.
"I kinda liked it," Steve admits, "I got a soft spot for musicals."
"My drama club put it on while I was in college," Colbert says, "I played Bucky Barnes."
"No shit," Sam says, glancing over at Steve. "You still know any of the songs?"
"Every word. Still know the choreography, too," Colbert says, grinning sheepishly. "Bucky had the best routine of the whole play - no offense, Captain."
"I was never much of a dancer," Steve says, feeling a little at sea. "And call me Steve, please."
Colbert's smile widens. "Steve," he repeats. It's surreal, to be talking to the man - Steve's never seen him out of character before. Even stranger to see him take a half step back and neatly execute the steps from Bucky Barnes' big number, "Last Boat to Brooklyn." Colbert finishes with a flourish, laughing like a little kid at himself. It's contagious, and Steve finds himself exchanging a grin with Sam. A few crew members applaud.
"Well, I was not expecting that," Sam allows.
"Maybe we can bring it back to Broadway," Colbert says, still laughing a little. "Anyway, I also wanted to say how excited we are that you're here, and - I'm sure you've watched it before, but I try to warn our guests not to take anything I say on the show to heart. The character's pretty myopic. I mean, that's the whole point of him."
"Of course," Steve says. The camera crew are doing final checks. He can hear the audience milling around in the holding room, laughing - excited to be indoors, speculating about who the guest was gonna be.
"I'm sure you hear this a lot, but I'm very inspired by you, in what we do here," Colbert tells him, earnestly.
"That's - " Steve looks at Sam. "Ouch."
Colbert's eyes widen. "Oh no, no no - that's not what I mean. Actually, it's funny you say that - when our writing staff originally pitched the What Would Captain America Do segment, we originally saw it as -". He breaks off, laughing. "I feel terrible actually saying this to your face. It wasn't personal."
Oh lord," Sam says, laughing. "Was it racist old man yelling at clouds stuff?"
"Yelling at what?" Steve asks, frowning.
"Pretty much," Colbert answers Sam, and then to Steve, "I am sorry."
"That isn't how the segments go, though," Steve says. "I wouldn't have come on here if it was."
"No," Colbert says, thoughtfully. "The consensus was that it would be a wasted opportunity. Why not make Captain America progressive? There were a lot more positive things we could do with that. Historically speaking, you were more likely to be liberal anyway."
Steve huffs a laugh. "You know, no one's ever even asked."
"Well, what are your beliefs?" Colbert asks, not missing a beat.
Steve hesitates, and then admits, "I was a Socialist, back in the day. Now - I don't know. Still pretty far to the left. I - I didn't think you'd actually ask."
Colbert shrugs. A PA taps him on the shoulder and lets them know they have fifteen minutes until the doors open.
"We have a lot of opinions about Captain America, on the show," Colbert says easily. "As a historical figure and as a metaphor for American identity ... how limiting Cap is as an idea, and how powerful he could be, in some ways."
"How do you mean, limiting?" Steve asks, and sees Sam's eyes drop to the ground, like he's embarrassed.
"Well - take the assumption that Captain America would be some racist, Republican dinosaur," Colbert says. "You've shocked people this year, by jumping into popular culture and showing you grok it - which has been so fun to watch. But it's an interesting question - why would we think of someone who, culturally speaking, literally embodies America like that? It's a pretty awful indication of what we must think of as American values - and how inaccessible they are to so many Americans.
But I don't think Cap's about how America's the best," Colbert continues, "he's an example to live up to. He embodies these beautiful ideas, that we as a country or a people stand up for what's right, that we fight for justice and equality - but the reality is, we don't. We go out and kill people from a distance for profit, and call it freedom."
"We turn around and oppress our own people, and pretend that racism is dead," Sam says.
Colbert nods. "If Captain America is how we want to see ourselves, then we should be taking a long look into how we get there. We aren't living up to the ideal. We are failing to be exceptional in so many ways - especially at justice and equality. We have a responsibility not just to do good, but to do better. So in that - on the show and in my own life, personally - we try and live up to your example. Captain America's example, I mean."
Sam huffs a laugh and says quietly, "Do the best you can, until you know better. Then do better."
Steve's staring down at his shoes. After a second, he looks up. "Thank you," he says.
"For what?" Colbert asks, a wry twist to his mouth.
Steve nods, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "Noticing there's a difference. I feel like I've spent the last three years trying to live up to Captain America's example. But it's impossible. Even for me."
"I think that's the point, though," Colbert says. "All those beautiful ideas about equality and fairness and justice - you can never look around and say: 'that's it, I won this fight. There's nothing else I can do.' We can always do better."
"Do the best I can," Steve echoes, looking at Sam. "I can do that."
"I know," Sam says, quietly. He turns to Colbert, offering up a grin. "If he was any more ready to start rolling he'd explode," he says. "Tell me you're gonna put me out of my misery soon, man."
"We'll be ready soon," Colbert says, reassuringly. "Although we've more or less had to rewrite a few episodes' worth of jokes on the fly. Captain's Orders threw us for a loop."
"Tell me about it," Steve says, grimly.
"After SHIELD, the show was pushing for a new anti-Nazi drone program," Colbert says, shaking his head. "I guess we were a little on the nose with that. We're thinking of planting a HYDRA spy on the writing staff, now ... We've got an intern with long brown hair, maybe we can end the hunt for the Winter Soldier."
"Sounds perfect," Steve says.
Colbert grins. "Awesome, I'll tell the writers you're in support. Anyway, I have a few things to go over before the show starts - feel free to hang out or grab some food in the green room, someone'll be around to direct you once we're ready to start letting people in. I'm glad we had a chance to talk. It's gonna be a great show."
They watch him vanish backstage in contemplative silence. "Captain Communist," Sam says wonderingly, after a moment.
Steve shakes his head. "Captain Socialist, it's different," he says.
"Yeah, okay," Sam agrees, and then asks, "so did that help? You feel better?"
Steve takes a deep breath and holds it. There's a PA waiting anxiously a few yards away, ready to shoo him out of sight. "Actually, I do," he says. "This is the right decision."
Sam nods, and offers a smile. "Thank you, Sam," Steve tells him. "For everything."
"You got this," Sam says, still smiling, and pulls Steve into a tight hug.
Steve lets himself be led backstage. He's dressed casually tonight - jeans and a button up shirt, nothing so formal as the suit he usually wears for planned appearances. It had been Tony's advice - "Go human," he'd said. They put a bit of powder on him and otherwise leave him alone while the studio fills. He can hear his own name being whispered, as the audience jumps to the obvious conclusion of why they've been asked to completely shut down all phones and devices, and sign a waiver to allow electronic monitoring.
They forego the warm up guy, and much of Colbert's Q&A is answering questions about the extra security measures. There's a hum of excitement in the crowd that starts building as soon as he admits that tonight's guest is Captain America - the expectation that maybe they're going to see real news being made.
Almost immediately after that, Sam's spotted in the front row, and steps up to answer a few questions himself. Steve's still waiting just off stage and Sam makes faces at him from time to time, trying to hide a big grin in his microphone.
And then -
The theme music. The audience, cheering to beat the band. Colbert, waving the audience back into their seats with a smile.
"Nation," he says solemnly. "I'd like to speak with you about Captain America."
A few people whoop, but most of the audience is quiet, waiting.
"Yes, Captain America!" Colbert continues. "As you know, I am a big admirer of Captain America. He always knows the right thing to do - as long as it's preserving the status quo. He always stands up for what's just - which has historically aligned with Western interests. He's as infallible as Santa Claus and twice as patriotic. He's the American ideal - a white man who does not need health insurance."
Colbert's voice drops, becoming more intimate, confidential. "Nation - it has been almost three years since Captain America was thawed, like a prime cut of one hundred percent American beef that was left tragically too long in the back of a freezer. And yet in all this time he has never been a guest on my show. I've spent many sleepless nights wondering just what I had done wrong - if somehow it was possible I had loved America too much."
There's a pause, as Colbert casts his eyes up to the heavens and wipes away an imaginary tear. When he continues, his tone is stronger, gaining confidence: "But in times of trouble, Captain America knew that there was only one place he could seek amnesty - and it wasn't going to be through our nation's porous southern border. No - tonight he has finally come to his senses. Tonight, he has left New York City and come to the real heart of this great land. Please join me in welcoming to the Colbert Report - Captain America!"
Steve barely hears the audience roar as he crosses the stage. He can see Sam from the corner of his eye, seated in the front row, whooping and clapping. He shakes hands with Colbert, formally. On camera, Colbert looks different - his features harder, more settled. Steve can hardly see any of the easy laughter they shared before.
"Captain Rogers," Colbert starts, and Steve holds up a hand.
"Steve," he says, and there - the glimpse of humanity.
"Steve," Colbert allows. "We are so glad to have you."
"I'm glad to be here," Steve says. "I'm sorry it took me so long. You cast a pretty big shadow, as a patriot."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," Colbert says. "And although I'm happily married, I do mean everywhere. But let me get straight to the point. You are the talk of the town, Steve - and by town, I mean the internet. An amazing story of courage went up on Buzzfeed yesterday, about the collapse of SHIELD and the crash of the three Helicarrier ships into the Potomac River, and you feature pretty heavily."
He directs his next comment to the big camera set up on center stage. "The exact details of that crash had never been made public," Colbert says. Despite the tone of his opening monologue, his face is serious now, giving the story the gravity it deserves. "The targeting system of the Helicarriers was dumped online with the rest of SHIELD's files, but what SHIELD had called Project Insight was not. For anyone out there with basic cable and yet no internet, Project Insight was, essentially, a target list that HYDRA had created of thousands of people - potentially tens of thousands of people, to be systematically murdered that day."
Steve nods. "Anyone who was a threat to them."
"I don't know how many people have looked at the list," Colbert says, looking out into the audience. "I had a chance to, yesterday. My name is on it. Along with thousands of other people, you also saved my life, sir."
Steve bows his head. "I think it's clear from the article that I wasn't alone, in doing so."
"Yes," Colbert says. "I don't mean to say otherwise. These SHIELD agents - a lot of whom, it seems, had no field experience and had certainly never had a gun pointed at them before - showed extraordinary courage in fighting back against HYDRA, with no more information than that they were being asked to do so by Captain America."
"I was - very humbled, when I read Captain's Orders," Steve says. It's true. He still is. "I'm grateful to the authors, for making their story known. These agents acted with real heroism that day and the world deserves to know about it."
At that, the audience starts to applaud. It builds and builds until everyone is on their feet. The noise is overwhelming, louder than when Steve walked onstage. Steve watches the big cameras turn to take it all in.
"Take us through the moment," Colbert says, after the moment dies down. "You had escaped from the Triskelion two days prior. You fought a man in DC who is alleged to be the Winter Soldier - an assassin thought by most of the intelligence community to be a Cold War spook story. You were taken into custody by SHIELD and then rescued by former Deputy Director of SHIELD, Maria Hill. The next day, you launch an attack on the Triskelion itself, to prevent the launch of the Insight Helicarriers."
"Yes," Steve says. "We knew that we wouldn't be able to take HYDRA on our own, with so few operatives. But the return of HYDRA seemed so unbelievable that we had no idea whether we could convince anyone of the truth."
"It seems you could," Colbert says. " 'I'm not going to launch the ships, sir - Captain's orders.' Incredibly powerful."
"I asked for sacrifice, and it was willingly given," Steve says. "Not only their lives, but their reputations, their careers, their family's well being. The country owes these men and women a debt of gratitude, not a witch hunt."
"It seems so," Colbert says, nodding. "How about the other side of this story - the HYDRA operative they've called the Winter Soldier, and the accusation of a widespread conspiracy to cover up his existence? On the surface it too incredible to be true - that one man could be responsible for dozens of assassinations over the course of more than fifty years. The eyewitness accounts of his attacks in downtown DC and at the Triskelion are - frankly - terrifying. Steve, you fought the man - what do you think? Do we have another supervillain on our hands?"
Steve looks out into the audience, catches Sam's eye. Sam's sitting straight in his chair, his hands folded in his lap, face solemn. He gives Steve a little nod, and Steve nods back.
He swallows, and begins. "I can confirm that the Winter Soldier does exist, and his history as posted by the authors of Captain's Orders is the truth. It's why I've come on your show tonight. I'm aware that there's a manhunt going on right now, online. I'm grateful people are banding together to - "
The right words are hard to find. Tony's team had already prepared a statement for him, when they still thought a press conference was gonna happen, but none of it fits.
" - to seek justice for the people who were killed in DC," he settles on, finally. "But it's not necessary. The Winter Soldier is in my custody, and has been since shortly after the collapse of SHIELD."
Colbert leans back in his seat. It's funny how different his expressions are, in character, but Steve can see realization dawning in his eyes, that Captain America really has brought real news onto his show.
"The Winter Soldier is in your custody," Colbert repeats. "Why wasn't he turned over to the authorities?"
"There was no one to turn him over to," Steve says. "The Winter Soldier is as much of a victim of HYDRA as anyone else."
Colbert frowns. Steve can't blame him. For a moment he feels a soft brush of pity across his heart, for what he's about to do. "How do you know that?" Colbert asks.
Steve takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. His hands are steady, braced on top of Colbert's desk. This is it. "Because I know him," he says. "I've known him all my life. The Winter Soldier was born in Brooklyn, in 1917, and his name is James Buchanan Barnes."
The silence is deafening. The audience is completely quiet, a sea of stunned faces. The crew standing at their places around stage look at each other. In the front row, Sam is glancing around, his expression tense. Colbert seems completely frozen - struggling to stay in character, maybe, or just struggling with what Steve has just told the world. His hand lifts off the desk and then just hangs in the air, the motion suspended and uncertain. So Steve keeps talking.
"In 1943, when Sergeant Barnes was held captive by HYDRA, he was injected with a version of the same serum that had been given to me. We knew that he had been experimented on by Arnim Zola, but we had no idea that it had anything to do with reproducing Erskine's formula or that it had been successful. He wasn't outwardly changed, like I was, but the serum allowed him to - to survive the fall from Zola's train. He was captured again by HYDRA - and they spent the next decades changing him into the weapon we met that day in DC."
"Bucky Barnes is the Winter Soldier," Colbert says, softly, and presses a hand to his mouth.
"Yes," Steve says, "but I want to be very clear on this. Sergeant Barnes was tortured and brainwashed for decades, beyond the endurance of any person's ability to withstand. That he is alive at all is a testament to his courage and strength. He is not a villain. He is not a mass murderer. He is our country's longest serving POW."
The audience is stirring, their voices a soft buzz of whispers in his ear.
"I know that this will be painful to hear, for a lot of people," Steve continues. "As far as I'm aware, his actions as described in Captain's Orders are true. Between the attack at Roosevelt Bridge and at the Triskelion, he caused the deaths of at least fourteen people. We have records of dozens of assassinations credited to the Winter Soldier, spanning more than fifty years - as many of you might have read online.
"These people are victims of HYDRA, and Sergeant Barnes was a weapon they used to further their aims. It's - cold comfort to the people who have lost family members and loved ones. I know it's easier to hate, when you're grieving - when you've got a target you can turn all that hurt onto. I can't fix that," Steve says, and sighs, looking down at his hands. "The only thing I can offer is the truth: that HYDRA took a good man and stripped him of his humanity through isolation, torture and decades of medical experimentation."
He looks up, directly at the camera over Colbert's shoulder. "And we can prove it," he says fiercely. "During the airing of this show, in approximately - four hours, we will be releasing all of the information we have on the Winter Soldier, including decades of medical records showing exactly the kind of Hell Sergeant Barnes lived through."
Steve looks back to Colbert, who lowers his hand back down to the desk, reaching towards his coffee cup and turning it towards himself, aimlessly. He scrubs his other hand over his face, and finally meets Steve's eyes. The character's mask is gone; Colbert's face is open and soft with pain.
"Bucky Barnes was a hero," Colbert says, quietly. "To change a man like that into - I can't even imagine."
Steve shakes his head. His hands knot together in his lap. "He still is," he says. "He won't like me saying that, but it's true."
"Backstage, earlier," Colbert says, "we were talking about him. About Bucky Barnes. That I played him in The Star Spangled Man, back when I was in college. And I was thinking about that, a few minutes before the show started - wondering if I'd been insensitive. He was your best friend - and here I was, talking about him like he'd been a character in a movie. I'm sorry."
"It's -" Steve's throat closes up. He can't breathe. He can't look at this man's face and see his own pain reflected back at him. "It's all right," he says, when he can, but there's nothing after that, no more words.
"Do you need some water?" Colbert asks. He signals to someone off stage without waiting for a reply, and a PA rushes out with a bottle.
"I'm okay," Steve says, but takes a long sip anyway.
"Take your time," Colbert says. Steve glances to Sam, whose steady gaze feels like a lifeline. His whole body feels naked and aching. His heart feels like a raw nerve. You got this, Sam mouths. Steve hopes that's true.
"How did you find out that your best friend was still alive?" Colbert asks, after a moment.
"HYDRA sent Bucky to kill us - Agent Romanoff, Sam Wilson and me. I'd seen Bucky before - just once. He was wearing a mask that covered the lower half of his face -" Steve gestures, trying to explain. He sees Colbert's eyes flicker over his shoulder, and the audience takes a quick, collective breath. Probably showing the Winter Soldier up on the monitors, then.
"They had him muzzled like a dog," Steve says, and can't help the hot, helpless fury that leaks into his voice. "I pulled the mask off, and when I saw his face, I knew -"
Another moment of pained silence, of Steve struggling for breath. The camera lights feel hot on his neck and face. "This is obviously very painful for you," Colbert says. His tone is gentle - pitched so low that Steve looks back over to him. Colbert's angled himself as away from the cameras as is possible to be, his eyes wide and concerned. Offering Steve an out.
Steve shakes his head, trying to clear it. He can do this. "It needs to be told," Steve says, and plunges on. "I knew the second I saw him that something horrible had happened; Bucky would never choose to fight for HYDRA. I knew HYDRA would send him after me again, to finish the mission. And I knew that I had to get him back, no matter what."
From the corner of his vision, he sees Sam shift in his seat, frowning.
"I lost my best friend," Steve says, his voice cracking. "I lost everything. It had been two years but it never got - " He shakes his head again: focus. It needs to be told. "I made sure I'd be alone when he came after me."
He remembers how hard his heart pounded on Charlie target, sneaking through corridors, avoiding any further engagement once he was inside the 'carrier, wondering if the gamble was gonna pay off. How it had felt to see Bucky already waiting for him, like he'd planned it that way too.
"If I didn't stop the launch, we were all as good as dead," Steve says. "It was the only chance I had to get through to him. Either we'd both walk out of there, or -"
He makes himself say it. "Or it would just be him."
"Steve," Sam says - quiet, to himself - probably not knowing Steve can hear him across the studio. Steve looks over his shoulder. Sam sucks in a breath when their eyes meet, big enough that his shoulders rise and fall with it. Steve can hear how shaky it is, too. I'm sorry, he tries to tell Sam. I'm sorry.
"What happened next?" Colbert asks, into the hush of the studio. Steve looks around, a little startled. He'd almost forgotten the audience, the lights, the eyes on him.
"He couldn't kill me," Steve says. "He tried - but he couldn't. I fell into the river, and he pulled me to shore. He saved my life."
"How was he able to break free of HYDRA's control?" Colbert asks. "How can you be sure he's not still acting as the Winter Soldier?"
"Because he's Bucky Barnes," Steve says. "You know him. All of you - you've known Bucky all your lives. You wrote papers about him in school. You played him in a musical. You watched the cartoons. You read books about him and me growing up in Brooklyn. You grew up with us."
Colbert opens his mouth - and then closes it again, cutting off whatever he was about to say next. He nods, just a little - eyes distant. Remembering, maybe.
"If you're asking me whether Buck is dangerous - of course he is," Steve says. "We both are. We were built to be weapons. Is he a threat? No. He's Bucky Barnes. You know who he is."
There's a long moment of silence. Sam is looking around at the people on all sides of him, eyes bright, fighting a smile. The faces of the audience are the same as Colbert's: thoughtful and far off.
"So what will you do next?" Colbert asks.
Steve tips his chin back and looks up into the bright lights above them. "I don't know," he says. It's not true; he has a lot of ideas about how they'll handle the fallout, what they'll do if anyone tries to come after Bucky for what he did as the Winter Soldier.
But what is true, the most true answer he could offer, isn't one that he could explain, because the answer is: anything.
So he looks back at Colbert and smiles, soft and warm. Colbert straightens up in his seat, unconsciously, and Steve feels laughter bubble up in his chest. Anything. "I don't know," he says again. "What Will Captain America Do?"
At that, Colbert laughs too, like he can't help himself.
"Make something up," Steve tells him. "Make it good."
-
The city feels hushed and cool, after the closeness of the studio. It feels quiet - as quiet as Manhattan ever is, just the susurrus of yellow cabs rushing over rain slicked streets. It feels like the world sucked in a breath that it hasn't let go of yet.
To Steve's right, the sun is setting over the Hudson River. If they walked a few blocks west they could see it go down and watch the lights come on over Jersey City. To Sam's left, a little south, the sky over Times Square is already lit up like Christmas, or the Fourth of July.
A shadow detaches itself from the brick wall of the studio. The cherry glow of a cigarette gleams in the dim sodium light, refracted against a metal hand that taps ashes off the end, carefully. For a long time they stand there, a loose triangle: Sam at Steve's left, his hands in his pockets, shoulders drawn up a little in the cold. At Steve's right, a handful of yards away, Bucky -
Bucky.
Sleeves pushed up around his elbows, like he has nothing to hide. Eyes steady on Steve, pale and large under the streetlamp. The faintest hint of a smile in there.
"All right, let's not make a production of it," Sam says, after a moment, and gets walking towards 9th Ave, back towards the bustle and noise of Midtown. Bucky waits until Steve draws up before falling in line, bumping Steve a little with his shoulder. Steve bumps back, a dumb grin on his face like someone's painted it there. In step, they walk on towards the light.