Sambucky | One-shots

A Night in Madripoor

"No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error."

Sam's Pov:

Zemo opened the door of the car that had just pulled up in front of us. "High Town's that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town's the other way."

I quickly stepped into the car after Bucky, closing the door behind me. "Let me guess. We don't have any friends in High Town," I replied. Zemo's lack of response confirmed my speculation.

As the driver took off, I admired the illuminated city despite the lawlessness within it. To be frank, I felt nervous. Not so much for myself, but for Bucky. Of course, he can handle himself, but I know that even pretending to be the Winter Soldier is accompanied by decades of trauma.

As we arrived further into Madripoor, the rain tapped quietly against the windows. The calm before the storm.

I could see Bucky clench his jaw as a group of bikers surrounded the area of the car. I gently placed my hand on his thigh and squeezed in reassurance, hoping I could ease his worries. I felt him relax a bit more and he gave me a slight smile, placing his hand over mine. We stayed like that for a few moments before the vehicle came to a stop and we exited from different sides. 

I followed Zemo's lead down a flight of stairs and let my eyes wander over the various groups of people crowding the streets. I'm almost positive every single person we laid eyes on had a gun locked and loaded. They watched us as we made our way into a sleazy bar.

Zemo announced lowly to the both of us, "Here we are."

Being the intelligent man he is, Zemo began to set up the act. He made sure his voice was loud and clear enough to be overheard as he made his way through the mob of people. He commanded in Russian, "Ready to comply Winter Soldier?"

A man in the crowd spotted Bucky and whispered to the other men around him, "Is that the Winter Soldier?" I couldn't help but feel on edge. One wrong move and it all goes to shit.

We approached the bar together and the bartender greeted us. "Hello, gentlemen."

He stared me down. "Wasn't expecting you, Smiling Tiger." I locked eyes with the man unsure of what to say, but luckily Zemo answered for me. "His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby."

The bartender asked if I wanted the usual and I nodded downwards in approval. I watched in shock as the man proceeded to make my "favorite drink". He sliced open a snake, pulled out some sort of organ, and dropped it into a shot glass full of alcohol. Zemo grinned, "Ah. Smiling Tiger, your favorite."

Bucky, uncomfortable by the snake dissection, glanced away and set his eyes on the people behind us. I pressed my lips together firmly for a moment and then scrunched my eyebrows as the bartender placed the glass in front of me. I couldn't believe I had to drink this monstrous concoction, but the show must go on. "I love these," I exclaimed as I picked up the glass.

Zemo clinked our glasses together. "Cheers, Conrad."

He downed his drink easily and waited for me to consume mine. I brought the shot up to my mouth, but grunted, "Mmm." The liquid smelled absolutely putrid. Sour snake guts and organs? Not a great combination. I hesitated slightly, but was able to swallow the contents of the glass. The alcohol sent a burning sensation down my throat and I could feel the slimy bits brush against it. I held back a gag.

I could see Bucky out of the corner of my eye trying not to laugh. In my attempts to shake off the taste of the shot, I gave the bartender a thumbs up only to be rewarded with his default expression: blatant judgement.