[Bucky Barnes; R] The Righteous Side Of Hell: Chapter 9 Character/Series: Bucky Barnes, Cast; Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: R Notes: I GOT TO USE THESE LYRICS YAY. Warning for non-canon typical violence. If you're squeamish about blood, back out now. Title: The Righteous Side Of Hell - Chapter 9: Set Me On Fire And Watch Me Burn Author:yuuo Word Count: 6585 Summary:The first thing he noticed upon waking up was that he was laying on something cold and the air around him was also cold.
'til everything burns (i touch the fire) and everyone screams (and it freezes me) burning their lies (i look into it and it's black) burning my dreams (why can't I feel) all of this hate (my skin should crack and peel) and all of this pain (i want the fire back) i'll burn it all down (so i will walk through the fire) as my anger reigns (and let it burn) 'til everything burns -Ben Moody -(Joss Whedon)
The first thing he noticed upon waking up was that he was laying on something cold and the air around him was also cold. The second thing he noticed were the straps holding his arms down, although they hadn't strapped his feet for some odd reason.
The third thing he noticed was that he had absolutely not a stitch of clothing on, covered only by a hospital blanket as chilly as the room itself.
Fucking Christ, they couldn't even have given him pants? Of course not. They never did.
He still felt lingering weakness from the sedative in his system, so pulling at the straps felt more than his muscles could handle. He closed his eyes, counting to ten, then ordered the computers in his left arm to lift his artificial muscles as much as they could. His stump felt the weakness the rest of him did, but the computers were doing their jobs, and after a few seconds of straining, the strap over his left arm snapped. He reached across and unhooked the right strap, then rolled over, falling to the ground with a hard thunk.
Think, he ordered himself. He couldn't remember what was going on, except that he'd been given a sedative at some point. Where was he again? This was Hydra, wasn't it? This didn't look like any lab he'd ever been to.
Wait. Wait, his brain was starting to remember something, images and feelings and colors dancing around in his head It made him throw up, a whole lot of nothing splattering on the floor in front of him. He coughed and spat, trying to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth. "Steve," he moaned, curling up and calling for- who? Someone who seemed comforting. Someone familiar.
Steve.
That's right, Steve. The others. He was in Palestine, this was a new lab, and they'd hit him with something. Something that had dug into his memory, something that- lucky for him -his body was already rejecting. The effects faded the more he focused on Steve. His brain raced in fear, making him want to hide in the corner and hope no more doctors came for him.
But they had Steve. They could be doing this to Steve right now. His face burned from anger.
Easy. Easy. Find pants first. We're not going to go strangling people around the base completely naked. Don't let yourself be that vulnerable.
Bucky's hot anger and cold fear were causing steam to cloud his vision and the Soldier had to grab him by his ear and force him to search the room for any signs of even scrub pants. It was better than running around naked, for god's sake.
As long as Steve was found and the facility torn down around them, Bucky agreed to yield to the Soldier to get them out.
Good. Now we're getting somewhere.
The weakness gradually faded as the Soldier searched the room, searched the prep room attached to the lab room, and finally located the medical scrubs that the doctors wore. It took him a few tries to find one that fit, and he wasn't going to bother with a shirt. There was no way he'd find one that'd accommodate his mismatched shoulders. He wasn't going to be running around with his dick waving in the air, that was good enough for him.
After tying off the pants to keep them on, Bucky once again yelled at the Soldier to find Steve.
Oh believe me, I want to find him and get out of here too. But if Steve's been captured, there might be armed people around him. Going up against a dozen Hydra agents with just knives had failed, did either of them really believe that going in with just his fists was going to work? He needed his armor and his weapons back.
But Steve's in trouble.
Maybe. Maybe not. He could be looking for us. Settle down.
The idea that Steve might not have been in danger placated Bucky slightly. The urge to find Steve was strong, but the Soldier was right, so he followed orders, letting the Soldier take control again. The pounding in the head seemed to lessen.
Actually, if Steve might be looking for him, he could find out for certain. He consciously turned his chip back on. "Steve?"
No answer.
At least not from Steve.
"Oh thank God," Maria's voice sounded in his ear. "We weren't sure what happened to you two. We can't raise Steve. Where are you?"
Good. He could call them in as back up in finding Steve while he tried to locate his damn clothes and weapons. He just got that coat, he wasn't going to give it up that easily. And Bucky conceded that the Soldier was right. If he had hope of saving Steve, he needed weapons.
"I'm in one of the labs." He looked out the door of the surgical prep area, seeing the door to the lab itself opening. He ducked back. "Hang on, my turn for trouble."
"Bucky-"
He tuned out whatever Maria was about to say, grabbing another pair of scrub pants and unfolding them, grabbing the ends of the legs. Two Hydra solders entered the lab, spoke frantically at each other in Arabic, then one left again, while the second explored the room, looking under counters and the table, side stepping carefully around the puddle of vomit.
Shit. That first one was going to sound an alarm on them. Great. Beautiful. Now what?
Now, we take care of this guy first.
Letting the man finish his rounds, he twisted his hands into the legs of the pants, waiting until the agent opened the door to the scrubs room. There was no warning as he grabbed him, looping the pants around the man's neck and tying the legs tight enough with a complicated knot that would hold tight until the man suffocated. He dropped the struggling man in the prep room, leaving him there to be found later.
Okay, now where the fuck would his clothes be?
"Maria, send in Sharon and Bruce. I need help finding Steve and this place needs torn down. Tell Bruce that if the other guy wanted a chance at Hydra, he's welcome to come smash."
"All right," Maria said. "Sharon, Bruce, did you read that?"
"We're already on our way," Sharon said. "Just in time, Bruce was starting to get antsy."
"Worry about friends makes a person antsy sometimes," Bruce replied. "Get me in there, the other guy will take care of the rest."
Good. The only one who didn't have a job was Maria. "Maria, get that jet to the entrance, be prepared for pick up."
"Give me thirty seconds. I'll join you."
Join- what? "Then who's going to stay with the jet?"
"Junior. I'm not leaving you and Steve in there without helping."
Bucky wanted to throttle the woman, but the Soldier, unbiased against women without Bucky's social training, threatened to grab him by the ear again if he didn't put some faith in Maria. Bucky chewed on his social upbringing and over protectiveness for a few seconds, then dismissed his fears. Maria knew what she was doing.
The place was fucking enormous, the Soldier quickly realizing that he was underground and he had a feeling there might be another basement level or two to get out of before he could get to the ground level.
Must find his weapons and clothes. "Steve?"
No answer.
The Soldier kept Bucky focused, kept reminding him of how much damage they could do to anyone who'd hurt Steve while they found their weapons. Bucky liked the idea far more than a former pacifist should. But he was also the Soldier, as much as the Soldier was Bucky, and there'd always be the other for both of them.
Weapons. Must find weapons.
He rounded a corner and immediately skidded to a barefooted stop and ducked back against the wall he'd passed around. There were armed men coming towards him, about five in total, two of which were women, and a few bullets had already missed when he got back to cover. There wasn't really any place to hide there, and he still didn't have any weapons and that annoyed him greatly.
But there was more open space than in the office, and there were fewer operatives to fight. He could handle this.
The first man rounded the corner, and the Soldier grabbed the man by the face and flung him against the far wall hard enough that the man's head left a bloody dent behind. He grabbed the man's gun before any more could round the corner.
The second and third operatives appeared. The Soldier shot the first in the face, splattering blood. He shoved the body aside, then reached out and grabbed the gun hand of the third assailant, twisting it to an unnatural angle. The woman shrieked in pain, dropped her gun. The Soldier took advantage of this to pull on her arm, giving him forward momentum to slide under her legs as she went down head first behind him to shoot the last two operatives from a lower angle than they'd be expecting.
They went down. The Soldier reached his arm back without look and shot the injured woman in the back of the head. He dropped that gun, searching through the others for a decent gun that hadn't had a ton of bullets unnecessarily shot. Most of them were Glocks, similar to Sharon's, but only one of them had more than two bullets left, and that had four.
You know, Hydra, if your operatives in these places weren't as accurate as a Storm Trooper, you'd probably save on ammunition.
Oh well. Not every group of Hydra combatants could be Strike teams.
Up above, what sounded like a few stories up, there was the sound of an animal roaring and lots of things getting knocked over. Oh, hi Hulk. Having fun up there? Good. Just don't smash the place down on our heads.
Actually, maybe he should warn them about that.
"Sharon, Maria, try to keep the other guy from collapsing that first floor. I'm several stories down, Steve and I won't be able to get out if the ceiling drops on us."
"Understood," Sharon said.
The Soldier let her talk soothingly to the other guy, and Bucky wondered if it'd really help, but if it did, great. He had two important things to find. His uniform and weapons, and Steve. Steve came first in all rights, but that uniform and those knives sure would be nice.
He made it up to the next basement up before he found his stuff, shoved into a lab clearly not meant for human experimentation like the lower floor had been. He had to take down two guards to get in, guards that hadn't expected two of the four shots left in the stolen Glock. The Soldier almost worried that the gunshots would call attention to him, but by the sounds of the Hulk upstairs, Hydra had bigger problems than a stray shot or two.
The roaring overhead grew louder. "Having any luck with him, Sharon?" he asked, though he felt the answer was 'no'
"Some," she said. "He's stopped hitting the floor."
The Soldier traded his scrubs for his real pants, hooking on his knee pads, followed by his belt. "That's good. Keep that up. I'm up a level, I don't know how many there are between you guys and I. I still can't find Steve." He pulled on his turtleneck.
"He wasn't on the bottom level with you?" Maria asked, sounding more than a little worried. "Hang on." He heard the sounds of her fighting, a couple gunshots, and a scream or two that were mostly drowned out by the other guy. "Sorry, trouble."
What was with the 'hang on, trouble' thing with this group? They fit together too well.
"Not that I saw. I found my gear, I'm changing into it and going to go back down for another sweep. That seemed to be the human experimentations floor. I haven't seen anything sterile enough up here yet to make me think otherwise."
No one answered, although he could hear plenty of what was going on through the chip under his ear. Maria sounded like she was taking on the three agents at the same time with ease; he really wanted to see her in real action someday. He was pretty sure Sharon was relying on her Glock. He heard her tell the other guy to cover her, she was reloading. He couldn't hear the other guy directly; his ear piece probably got busted when Bruce and the other guy traded places. The Soldier was just as glad. That would hurt his ear to hear that through the chip.
Before he was fully armed again, he looked at the Glock he'd set aside to dress without it in the way. He'd used two shots, only two remained. It wasn't really worth keeping. So he left it where it sat.
Coat zipped, weapons reclaimed, and face gear pulled on properly, the Soldier headed back down to the bottom level, or what he hoped was the bottom level, for another search. He was pretty sure he'd tracked down all the rooms, but that didn't mean anything. He'd also been trying to stay alive while running around in nothing but scrub bottoms and cursing the universe for not having his uniform and weapons.
His booted feet made more noise going down than his bare feet had, but he didn't care about that. If he alerted someone to his presence, he was armed this time, and that someone might actually be Steve. There could've been a malfunction in his ear chip, maybe that was why they weren't raising him on the comm. That idea did only a little to ease the tension in his stomach.
His second sweep of the sterile floor wasn't proving fruitful, and the Soldier started swearing under his breath. Where the hell was Steve? If they didn't find him soon, nothing was going to stop either him or Bucky from murdering every Hydra personnel there in slow and torturous ways. Their temper and worry were mixing to create a fire building in the distant part of their mind.
Eventually, the Soldier found his way back to the lab he'd been in, and it was eerily cleaned and all signs that he'd been there had been removed. Someone had gone behind him and cleaned up, someone apparently unmindful of the fact that a subject had gotten loose and was creating hell on the lower levels. As if his job was simply to clean.
What were they preparing the room for? Him again?
The Soldier searched the room; someone had come through, he wanted to know why. He worried that the room had been cleaned for Steve, but if it was, he could lie in wait, kill the doctors, get Steve out of there. He could hide in the prep room.
Opening the prep room door revealed that the man he'd killed there had also been cleaned away. That meant that someone had gone into that prep room, and suddenly, the Soldier really wanted to investigate that. It seemed strange enough that something else might be going on, something in that prep room that he'd missed when looking for clothes.
The first thing he noticed upon looking around was that someone had folded all the pants he'd thrown about, looking for one in his size, and put them back on the shelves. Weird. Why would anyone care enough when a crazed assassin was running loose?
He started lifting everything on every shelf, looking under scrubs and masks and surgical caps. Nothing seemed out of place, he circled around the very tiny room. One swinging door with round window, the one he'd come in through. The other side was a wall with more shelves of a soft, cubby hole sort. Those sorts of soft wardrobes usually hung on doors, didn't they?
The Soldier felt around the edges of the hanging wardrobe, realizing that there was something sturdy enough to be a door behind it. He glanced up, reaching his hand up and running it along the top of the wardrobe. There were metal hooks.
That 'wall' was a door.
Before he could lower his hand, he heard voices from the other side. He held perfectly still, steadying his breathing until it was inaudible and his heart didn't pound in his ears.
"Doctor Tucker, the patient isn't fully sedated."
"Up the dose, let's give him another minute."
The Soldier had two choices. He could walk away and leave it to chance that it wasn't Steve they were working on, or he could check, and even if it wasn't Steve, he'd've proven better than Hydra than to leave an innocent person to die on one of their operating tables.
There really wasn't a choice; the Soldier had escaped Hydra for a reason.
He unsnapped the holster on one of his Yari IIs, his favored knives that hung upside down from under his coat, and held it up, ready to stab whoever was closest to the door. With a deadly silence and deliberate slowness, he felt around the door with his flesh hand until he found the doorknob. It turned without a sound.
Like a predator approaching prey unawares, he slipped into the room. Five people in blue surgical scrubs, two women with dark hair and dark skin, two men of similar genetic descent, and one white man who could've blended in with the sterile white walls by comparison.
On their table was Steve, an IV running into his right arm, covered about as much as the Soldier had been, eyes half-lidded and stare blank from drugs.
Steve.
Oh god, Steve.
From somewhere buried deep rose a red hot rage, like magma pooled in his chest, coloring his view red. The fear for Steve's safety would wait. Anger came first. Anger that would remove the threat those so-called doctors who murdered and mutilated with drug and scalpel posed to Steve. They'd chosen the wrong person to work on, tried to take away the one good thing in the Soldier's life that was permanent, secure, stretched back to the foundation of Bucky he'd been built on.
The only thing he could hear was the ringing in his ears, the noise from his comm disappearing as he shut down all distractions.
He had to get those monsters away from Steve. And they'd made the Soldier into a monster to match them.
He wouldn't let them touch Steve.
The Soldier didn't even notice that he'd already been in the air as that silent scream in his head worked into an audible yell, leaping completely over Steve and the surgical table, his knife landing to the hilt in the neck of the white man. He went down with the body, yanking out his knife and giving the man's throat two more stabs for good measure, then spun off the body. The other doctors had scattered. He tracked one of the women and flung the bloodied knife into her shoulder. She shrieked in pain, stumbling back.
None of them were fighting back. They were not fighters, just doctors who caused damage only to unconscious people, like cowards. Hatred flared like the burn of a wild fire.
The other woman and the two men were trying to get to the door, escape the fate of their comrades. The Soldier flung one of his partly serrated Mark IIs at the doorknob, catching one of the men in the hand, pinning him like a butterfly.
The other two backed away.
Just as deliberately as he'd come in, the Soldier got up, grabbing a scalpel off the table full of surgical tools and walking around the foot of the table. He passed the woman doctor he'd stabbed, who was trying to get away despite the pain in her shoulder. He reached his left hand across him to yank the Yari II out of her shoulder as he dragged the scalpel in his close hand across her throat, making a deep and precise cut.
This was not a fight. This was cold-blooded murder. And just the quickest of glances at the half-aware Steve was enough to erase any regret or guilt he might feel over it. If what it took to protect Steve was a murderer, then a murderer he'd be.
The last woman and the man who didn't have his hand pinned to the door backed away, slamming back against a wall, screaming in terror. Good. Keep screaming. They were next.
He lifted his booted foot in the face of the man pinned to the door and shoved him away, the knife ripping through his hand as the hand went one way and the knife remained secured in the wood. Blood from the wound hit the Soldier's right knee pad. He already had blood on him, at this point, more didn't matter.
The Soldier stalked to the other two doctors, grabbing a Mark II from its sheath. They tried to run, but the Mark II found the ear of the male doctor and buried itself to the hilt. The woman shrieked and turned, looking trapped. The Soldier took great care in pushing the scalpel through her forehead, slow enough to let her feel everything before her brain was pierced and she was left falling to the ground.
The Soldier grabbed his Mark II from the male doctor's ear.
The doctor with the torn hand was still alive, sliding back away from the Soldier, hand held tightly to his chest as if that would make it hurt less.
Still one left alive. The rage screamed in his head, the fire in his bones an inferno that wasn't sated, wouldn't be sated until the last one was dead and he was sure Steve was okay. If Steve wasn't okay, he'd make every Hydra operative personally pay for it. The fire would burn until it'd consumed everything of Hydra, everything of Bucky.
Winter was over.
He grabbed the last man by the front of his scrub dress, left fist raised to break bones when he heard Steve's voice. Alive. Weak, but alive. He dropped the man, looking back over his shoulder at Steve. Steve didn't seem to be moving, but he heard Steve say his name.
Concern overrode the fire, though it stayed a low roar in the distance, ready to ignite the entire landscape of his mind again if Steve wasn't okay. He grabbed the doctor's head and twisted, snapping his neck, not giving him the mercy of an easy death, but because he had become an inconvenient distraction. "Steve?"
Steve didn't answer this time, and Bucky leapt to his feet, practically flying over to Steve's side. "Steve? Come on, talk to me."
If it wasn't for the shallow breathing, Bucky would almost be certain that Steve had succumbed to whatever they had in him. Bucky carefully removed the IV, pressing down on the spot where the catheter left the skin. "Steve?"
Breathing. A noise. Maybe Bucky's name. Maybe not.
"Come on, Steve," he whispered, panic starting to sweep across his nerves. He cupped Steve's face in his hands, ignoring the blood he smeared on him. "Steve, come on, come back to me. Please don't leave me alone."
Steve made another noise. Not a name, not a word at all. Just a noise.
Bucky's hands began to shake from fear, he knees threatening to give out. Steve didn't sound good, and Bucky wasn't sure what'd been put in him, what it might've done, if it'd metabolize out or not. He buried his face against Steve's neck, fighting back tears when Steve failed to react to another attempt to get coherence out of him. "Don't you do this to me," he whispered. "Don't you leave me, wake up, goddamnit. Please."
"Bucky?"
Bucky lifted his head, looking at Steve, relief overtaking fear just a bit as Steve's eyes focused on him. What ever certainty Steve had of Bucky's identity was gone when he spoke again. "You- who... who are you?"
Bucky's heart stopped and his hands began to shake even harder. He pulled off the goggles and face mask. "It's me, Steve. Please, for the love of god, don't do this to me. We gotta get you out of here."
Steve stared at him for a long second that felt like eternity. "You're covered in blood."
Oh. That's why he wasn't recognizing him. He was seeing the Soldier. Bucky looked down at the blood on his hands. "I know." He set his gear on the table with the surgical tools. "The Soldier's still here, Steve," he said. He went to the door and pulled it open. He kept an eye on Steve while he looked for some scrubs that would fit him.
Steve was watching him with eyes that were no clearer than they had been before the IV had been removed.
"You were a pacifist."
Bucky took a deep breath. "Once upon a time. But that was a long time ago." He finally located some clothes that he thought would fit. He studied them, thoughts working to say to Steve what needed to be said, words that would hopefully sink in, words that would make Steve understand that he was being saved, that his rescuer was safe to trust. "There's always going to be a monster in here," he finally said, as he took the scrubs back to Steve. "But that monster loves you just as much as I do. Now come on, we need to get you dressed."
Steve was slow to respond, but he cooperated, whatever part of his brain that was functioning deciding to trust him. The Soldier in them snarled with rage, wanted to find more Hydra agents, more 'doctors' to destroy. Bucky was more focused on getting Steve clothed and to Bruce in the vain hope that Bruce would know how to clear out whatever was in Steve before it caused permanent damage. Maybe it was just sedative. Maybe Steve would wake up before they even got back to the Tower.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
He got Steve dressed, leaving blood behind that he would have to explain later to Steve, later once he was coherent again. He grabbed his face gear and pulled it on, then wrapped his left arm around Steve's shoulders, helping him stay upright. Steve's feet were clumsy, and more than once Bucky had to pause to help Steve keep upright. He didn't seem to gain any strength back as Bucky helped him down the halls to an elevator. Upstairs, the ceiling began to feel the strain of the other guy ripping apart walls and who knew what else.
Once he was sure Steve was steady in the elevator and they were on their way up to the highest floor the elevator said it could go up to, Bucky reactivated his comm. "What's the story up there?"
"We're on the first level down," Maria said. "Where are you?"
Bucky squinted at the elevator buttons. "Coming up an elevator from the third basement to the first. Is that where you are?"
"I think so. Have you found Steve?"
"I have him. He's going to need help out, though." The words burned in his mouth. He looked at Steve. "Still with me?"
Steve tried to nod, apparently decided that was a poor life decision, then took in a breath. "Yeah." That didn't sound confident, but it was the best Bucky would get.
The elevator rattled as it pulled to a stop. The ground under them outside of the elevator shook. Holding Steve up short of carrying him was difficult with the movement. Damnit, Hulk. "We're on the first basement," he said into his comm. "Please tell me this earthquake is from the other guy."
"You couldn't tell?" Sharon said. "Where are you guys? We'll come get you."
Bucky was forced to help Steve sit down, leaning back against the wall. It was just impossible to keep him upright right then. "Tell him to settle down, he's pulling Steve off his feet. We're at an elevator." He turned on his HUD, examining the power lines running through the first basement. A compass swiveled as he focused on the sputtering lines where damage had been done. "We're due east of the worst of the damage to the electrical systems," he said. "I assume that's the other guy's fault."
"It is," Maria said. "We'll be there as soon as we can."
Bucky leaned his head back against the wall, taking a moment to just breathe for a few seconds, something he hadn't had the liberty to do all night. He looked over at Steve. "Still with me?"
Steve was sluggish to respond, eyes flicking to look at him before he turned his head. There was no response in his eyes; there was something wrong, like he was viewing everything from a distance, where nothing he was actually looking at or hearing made sense.
It broke Bucky's heart to see it. He knew that look had been on his own face in the past. Bucky wasn't sure what chemicals had been poured into Steve's blood stream, but they were slowly taking Steve away from him.
The fire flared and Bucky had to forcibly stamp it back. He had Steve free, the others would come get them, they'd get Steve medical care from Bruce, best in the world, he'd be fine. Focus on Steve. Hydra no longer matters, not unless the chemical does its job and Steve disappears forever. Then he can scorch the earth.
"Steve?"
Steve's expression finally twisted into one of uncertainty, something better than a blank and unresponsive nothing. "I think." He paused. "You have blood on you."
Behind his mask and goggles, Bucky flinched. "I know. It'll clean up. You know who you are?"
Steve closed his eyes, brow furrowed slightly as he tried to remember. "Steve Rogers," he said, as if he wasn't entirely certain of that. "Captain America. You're the Winter Soldier."
Bucky's throat tightened. It was going to take one of Bruce's medical miracles to fix this. Bucky took off his face gear. "Do you know who I am now?"
There was no real recognition, not that dawning sort he'd seen at the bridge, but something that Steve was about to recite from a memorized book. "Bucky?"
The conversation was painful, more painful than almost any other he'd ever had in his life. He didn't want to be a stranger in Steve's eyes. He didn't want to see that distant look on Steve that put him so far away, but there it was, something wrong in Steve's eyes that Bucky couldn't put a name to. He wasn't sure those doctor's had died horribly enough.
That was for later, though. For right now, he needed to keep Steve going, keep him thinking and talking until they could get him into Bruce's hands. The sounds of the Hulk came closer. Bucky looked up down the hall, half-expecting to see him already there.
Seeing that he had a few more seconds, he put his flesh arm around Steve's shoulder. "I told you, I'm with you to the end of the line. It wasn't the end yet."
Steve either flopped or leaned into that hug, hard to say, but Bucky buried his face against the top of Steve's head, breathing in the familiar scent. That was still Steve, still his brother, best friend, partner. They'd get him back. He was just a bit disoriented from a sedative right then. That'd fade.
The sounds of the Hulk grew closer, and Bucky jumped slightly when the body of a Hydra operative went flying through the closed doors of the elevator. Bucky waved his left arm frantically. "Friends! Friends!"
The Hulk did not settle down one bit, not if the look on his face was any indication, but he stopped throwing things in their direction, at least. He was still throwing and punching the walls of the hall.
Maria and Sharon hurried over to them, crouching down. "Are you two all right?" Maria asked.
Bucky nodded. "I'm fine. Found trouble, but I'm fine." He looked at Steve. "He needs help out." He'd explain later. "Sharon, help me get him up. Maria, take point, get us back out of here."
After some effort to get Steve back up on his feet and supported by Sharon and Bucky, Maria looked at the other guy. "Hulk? Smash us a way out of here."
That seemed to please the other guy. He turned and decimated walls back the way they came, any poor asshole that happened to get into his way getting smashed into the wall until they were part of the decor.
Sharon's lips twitched slightly. "He's been having a ball in here. Bruce wasn't wrong about him being happy about this mission."
Maria stayed at a pace just ahead of Bucky and Sharon, who were moving slow because of Steve's lack of coordination. If Bucky remembered how those drugs worked, or the equivalent thereof that had been used on him, the strength to walk on his own would take awhile to return. The Hulk went back and forth ahead, clearing a path and always checking back to roar down the hall at them, as if telling them to hurry.
"So he listens to you?" Bucky asked Sharon.
"I don't know if I'd say that, but he likes me," Sharon said. "Don't ask me to give him orders, I don't think he'd listen."
"He's fine," Maria said. "He's just telling us to hurry up. He doesn't have a lot of patience."
"Couldn't guess why." Bucky looked at Steve, expecting and then not expecting for him to join in their conversation. Steve still had that distant look, but he was moving, planting his feet and going forward with help, his arms around Bucky's and Sharon's shoulders, cooperating, not resisting. That may have to be what Bucky would be satisfied with.
"Something occurs to me," Sharon said, then raised her voice. "Hey, big guy! You destroyed the stairs, we need a new way up."
The Hulk came back around a corner, actually still for a moment, but only for a moment before he stepped back and punched a hole in the ceiling. Some of the ceiling came down with his fist. He brushed the rubble off himself, snorting and growling, then hopped up through the hole as if that were a good way for the others to get out.
"Here," Bucky said, passing his side of support over to Maria. "I'll get up there, get a safe spot, then you guys will help pass Steve up to me. Then I'll help you two get up. That looks a bit high for you to jump."
Maria examined the hole. "There's some broken pieces here we could potentially climb, but Steve would be a problem." She tilted her head back. Hulk was already gone. "Boy, it doesn't take much to please him. Just give him something he's allowed to destroy without making Bruce feel guilty for it...."
"This job was perfect for him," Bucky said, hopping up on some collapsed ceiling that slid under his weight. He jumped for the nearest part of the open hole that looked sturdy. After testing it, he crouched down. "Okay, get his hands up to me, then support his legs. Careful, he's heavy."
It took some effort- both girls were strong, but a barely coordinated man of Steve's size wasn't easy to hoist up -but they finally got Steve up onto the floor above. Bucky helped him maneuver over to a wall out of the way. "You going to be okay?" Bucky asked him, helping him find an angle to make staying upright easier.
"Yeah."
Bucky didn't have to wonder what was going through Steve's head. Once again, he had to pour water on the fire in his mind and hope it wasn't an electrical fire that would just spark and kill and destroy even more.
He took a second, then went back to the hole.
The girls were easy to get up, much lighter than Steve and able to assist in getting themselves up instead of being handled like a sack of potatoes. Bucky looked down the hallway once they were up. "Looks like he found us a way out. Unless that damage is old."
"Some of it is," Maria said. "Now we have to hope that he wears himself out before we get to the jet with Steve."
"I'll try talking to him," Sharon said. "Bruce asked me to try to calm him down. I think Bruce hates me or is getting me back for something, but I said I'll try."
Something started nagging at the back of Bucky's brain. Something that the conversation was at once distracting from and helping to bring to the forefront of his mind. The plan. They were to get in. Sharon was to try to talk down the Hulk. They needed Bruce. What el-
"Fuck."
Sharon looked at him, her eyebrows raised. "Okay, well, it's a dangerous job, but you sound like there's something I'm forgetting about it. Please tell me so I don't get Hulk Smashed."
Bucky shook his head. "No, Junior's USB. I hid it in that office I got cornered in. It's got all the files and records on it." He walked over to Steve. "Steve, I have to get something. The girls will help you out of here."
Steve still had that same distant look, like he was trying to remember something but it was on the edges of his mind, not quite solid, not quite enough to look at, only seen out of the corner of his eye. "Okay."
Bucky had to curl his hand into a fist to keep it from shaking. He looked back at the girls. "Get him out of here, get on the jet. Meet me at the back door. It wasn't far from there."
He left before the girls could do more than holler a protest after him, one he ignored. He jumped over the hole and ran down the hall, turning on his HUD. The electricity was a poor way to track the office, but the computer systems still had some working stations, and his HUD dug through them at a phenomenal pace, looking for one close to the back door. Bucky hoped like hell that it hadn't been turned off in the destruction.
Fortune favored him for once that night. He got back into a section he recognized, so he was able to navigate back to the office without his HUD. The doorway was damaged from the chair, and while the blood was still there, there were no bodies to trip over. Now to just hope that nobody searched the room and found the USB.
Bucky pushed aside the desk, revealing the floor below and the USB still on the ground. "Thank god," he muttered, picking it up. It was too late to plug her in to destroy Hydra's systems; with Bruce's destruction, that was probably already done and if it wasn't, plugging the USB in to a system with unstable power could fry what was already on it.
Deciding that there was enough damage for the moment, he pocketed the USB, and rushed back out the back door to meet his friends.