Chapter Text
Zemo was shoved into the room, his own two feet almost getting caught up under him, he composed himself without a fuss, still gowned in his prison uniform. The bag covering his head was snatched away by one of the escorts. Zemo squinted, eyes having been shielded for the duration of his time within the mountain, hair now a ruffled mess. His hands were wisely still cuffed behind his back.
“Leave us.” T’Challa requested. The two escorts bowed and left the room without a murmur.
Shuri had gone stiff. She had forgotten how to move now her fathers’ killer had been so casually ushered into the room. Sam picked up on her unease, he could safely assume T’Challa had too.
“Thank you, for your generous hospitality.” Zemo’s sarcasm wasn’t a welcomed addition. Nor did it please the crowd.
“Don’t push your luck Zemo.” Sam courteously cautioned.
Zemo watched him from the corner of his eye before his full attention settled on Bucky behind the glass.
“The man of the hour.” Zemo looked past the trio. T’Challa stepped aside to give Zemo a clear view. Bucky hadn’t moved, said a word, since they had entered the room. The whole time they spent waiting for Zemo, Bucky had just stared forward devoid of expression, face a mask, blue eyes without presence.
“You said you could get through to him, bring him back.” Sam called Zemo up on his own words. “Go ahead.” He gestured to the husk of a man.
“Is there any chance that these can be removed now?” Zemo looked around back at his metal bound hands.
“Do what you came here to do.” Sam was assertive but not threatening.
Sam at least felt himself again. After days of torment with Bucky’s life solely on his shoulders, it felt good to share the weight with others who cared. Even if they kept their plans from him, there intent was pure, and they wanted what was best for Bucky as much as he did.
Zemo conceded with his quest to have his cuffs removed for the time being, rolling his shoulders he tilted his head at Bucky.
“Hello again James.” No response as expected, Bucky’s features frozen. “I can imagine this has all been rather unpleasant for you.” Zemo, having finished his visual examination of the man, sighed deeply.
Sam was admittedly nervous, the whole situation not sitting right for him. It was wise to not trust the Baron fully.
“Get on with it Zemo.” Sam advised; small talk needless.
“I think you have the wrong impression of what I’m capable of here.” Zemo turned to Sam.
“You said you could bring him back?” Sam wasn’t pleased, he stepped forward to confront the Baron on his lies, T’Challa’s arm coming between them before contact. Sam was never going to act on his anger or do anything to harm Zemo, resulting in Sam finding offence in the fact that T’Challa had assumed he would have.
“I can.” Zemo assured.
“What’s your game Zemo?” Sam recoiled, T’Challa taking his arm back, barrier removed.
“Everything I have told you so far, has been truthful. Every word.” Zemo was relaxed, words prepared, rehearsed.
“Talk.” Sam instructed.
“I need something.” Zemo rolled his shoulders, discomfort from the cuffs pinning his arms behind his back.
“Of course you do.” Sam could see where this was going, nothing was ever easy. “And what would that be?”
“The missing page.”
Sam knew exactly what Zemo was referring too. The missing page from the book used by Hydra to program their perfect soldier. Well, almost perfect.
“You failed to mention this little detail earlier.” Sam glimpsed the soldier through the glass, the man still in place.
“If I had, I wouldn’t be standing here now.” Zemo was playing them well.
Sam cursed at himself within his mind, telling himself that he should have known better than to trust Zemo on his word alone. But Sam had no other lead, no avenue to go down without Zemo’s aide. As much as he didn’t trust him. He needed him to help Bucky.
“This was a mistake.” Shuri finally spoke in Zemo’s presence. “You should never have brought him here.” She spoke to T’Challa not as a King, but as a sibling.
“I did what I thought was right.” T’Challa looked troubled, his sister’s council having an effect. “Maybe I was wrong.” T’Challa summoned the Dora standing guard outside the door, the Wakandan dialect musical even when only a single word was uttered. “Take him back to the Raft.”
“We need him!” Sam objected. His words formed from panic.
The Dora cared little for his protest and took Zemo in their grasp, easily manhandling the skinny man out of the room.
“It was a mistake to bring him here.” T’Challa wasn’t angry at anyone other than himself. “We will find another way to help Barnes.” He proceeded to assure Sam without success.
“What if he’s the only answer, the only way Bucky gets out of this in one piece?” Sam countered.
He never got a reply from T’Challa, the King leaving the room with Shuri close behind.
Now Sam stood alone. The shell of a man on the other side of the glass barely company.
Sam patrolled his quarters. The four walls having become a common space in the last few days. His suit, wings, and shield remained on a table, having not been touched since being returned to him.
A phone buzzed, vibrating against the white nightstand. Never had Sam hit answer so fast.
“Sarah?” The phone shoved into his ear.
“Sam.” Her voice was enough confirmation.
“Are you alright?” Sam thoughts shifted to panic.
“Yeah, yeah we’re fine.” Sarah immediately settled Sam, having picked up on his fretted tone down the phone. “How’s things on your end?”
Sam concluded his sister was ringing to check up on him. The realisation warmed his heart, feeling himself smile somewhere inside.
“Been better.” Sam finally sat himself down on the edge of the bed.
“Talk to me.” Obviously, Sarah could tell he was holding back, words kept behind upsetting thoughts.
“Everything I do. Every time I think we’re close to an end...” Sam rubbed his chin with his free hand, finding words now hard.
“Sam. Every time something has held you back or knocked you down, you’ve gotten back up. I can’t see that changing anytime soon.” Sarah forced a smile to happily form on Sam’s face, making his hand fall from his chin.
“But how do you keep going when you hit a dead-end?” Sam proposed the question.
There was a pause on the other end of the phone as Sarah pondered.
“In the end, you always find a way. Especially when it comes to family.” Sarah chuckled, reminiscing.
“Family…” Sam reiterated, mind getting caught up on the single word.
“Whatever wall you’ve hit. I know no one more capable of breaking through it then you.”
Sam’s attention somehow came to reside on the gleaming shield propped up on the table. Red, blue, and white painted Vibranium speaking volumes.
“Sarah, I’ll have to call you back.” His eyes remained on the old shield. “I’ve got a wall to go knock down.”
It was unnerving how easy it was to walk the mountain halls, each step taking him closer to where Bucky was contained. Sam was on high alert; nothing was this straightforward. At least being back in his suit gave him confidence, the weight of his gear reminding him of the title he now carried, however the red, white, and blue of his suit had drawn a few eyes. He was on the clock.
Bucky still hadn’t moved an inch since his visit earlier, which had only been less than twenty minutes ago. The most Bucky did was look up at him with an absent stare.
“I’m gonna need you to work with me here buddy.” Sam moved up to stand before the glass partition, looking for a way in.
Sam pulled a wristband from his belt which had been gifted to him by Shuri. The band having given him access to wherever he had traversed so far. However, he had never tried to access somewhere other than one of the labs or where he laid his head at night.
“Moment of truth.” Sam waved the wristband in front of a panel attached to the side wall. There was a red flash on the screen, making Sam greet his now close friend dread. He was expecting the worst, for his plan to take a fall once again at the first step.
The screen suddenly flashed green. A slice of the glass wall sliding away. Sam didn’t question his luck, he didn’t dare, not wanting to take the chance to lose the worlds good faith.
Sam already had his cowl and eyewear removed, giving the best chance for the soldier to recognise him. Not like it made a difference.
“Buck, I know you’re out of it man, but I need you to give me something here.” Sam would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared to approach the seated man.
With no response from Bucky, Sam threw a glance over his shoulder at the door. Anxious to get moving. They had a deadline to meet for the plan to go off without a hitch.
“I’m sorry to have to do this.” Sam regretted the words before he even said them. “Otkazoustoychivyy, prizrak.” As he suspected Sam butchered the pronunciation. “Soldat?” Sam quickly followed up, recalling what Zemo had told him about the programming.
“Ya gotov otvechet.” It was the first thing the Winter Soldier had said since they had triggered him back in the Wakandan jungle. Enforcing them God forsaken words was the last thing Sam wanted to do. But for this plan to work, he needed the Winter Soldier on his side.
“Now we’ve just gotta get this off.” Sam kneeled, grabbing a handful of the chains that bound the soldier. Sam knew that Bucky was strong, but he couldn’t see him brute forcing his way out of this one. With hope fading, another plan ready for the trash, the cuff unlatched from the soldier’s wrist unexpectedly.
“You might want the rest of him.” Sam spun round, looking through the glass at Ayo. She carried Bucky’s metal arm in one hand, a firm hold on her spear with the other.
“Ayo?” Sam knew who it was, he was more in disbelief than anything.
“They’re moving Zemo now, you must be quick.”
“Why?” Ayo understood exactly what Sam was asking, no need for a detailed explanation of his question. Sam flinched when the soldier shuffled himself to his feet, remembering for a second it wasn’t Bucky at his side. “Stand down.” Sam quickly ordered, fearful that the soldier would attack.
“Just like you. I’m not willing to give up on James.” Sam moved from the cell, the Winter Soldier right behind him. Ayo offered the metal arm back to its owner.“Voz'mi eto soldat.” Sam couldn’t see himself ever seeing a slice of normality in Ayo speaking Russian.
The Winter Soldier followed his orders, taking the arm from Ayo with a straight menacing face. Sam watched as he reattached the limb, once socketed in his shoulder, the soldier flexed his fingers before whirling his arm around to fully recalibrate the arm.
“Thank you.” Sam said the only words he could think of to express his gratitude.
“I hope you won’t need to use these.” Ayo pulled something from a pouch on her belt. Three small metal discs sat in the palm of her hand. “Press the centre to activate. After contact with the Vibranium It will immobilize him for a time.”
“Ayo…” Sam wasn’t sure what he was going to say, thankfully she cut him off.
“Go.” Ayo insisted, stepping to the side granting them access to the only exit.