Soft Robotics ✧ Bucky Barnes

(configuration[3.04]);

I didn't sleep the rest of the night. I'd just been sitting, trying to soothe myself with the dog tags. I kept worrying about Bucky. I hated wondering about how he found out I was gone, how he was handling it.

I couldn't die. I really, really, needed to make sure I didn't die. He'd just stopped pushing me away. If I died now, it would be another bullet point on a growing list of reasons he felt cursed.

Tony, too. Nat. Wanda. There were a lot of people who didn't need my death on their lists.

"They're gonna be coming soon. It feels like about that time," Colin said, sounding almost indifferent. Resigned to the fact, maybe. "You need to put those away. Somewhere they won't find them."

I curled the dog tags back into my fist. I didnt want to go anywhere without them. I didn't want to leave this room. They'd left me in peace for so long that I almost felt safe in here.

Part of me hated the thought of them surviving this long, making it all the way back to Bucky in the 21st century, just for me to lose them. To HYDRA, especially. But I knew he'd want me to carry them if they made me feel better. I could see the exasperated expression he'd have if I didn't. And anyway, they somehow felt safer on my person than detached from me, staying in this room.

"Will they pat me down?" I asked.

"Not as a routine. They'll do it if you give them a reason to."

I hooked them around my neck and tucked them under my shirt, finally feeling lucky that at least the collar was high enough to hide the chain.

"What the hell are you doing?" Colin asked as I reached my hand up under my shirt.

"Tucking them into my bra so they won't clink around. Get over it."

There was a bang from outside the door.

Colin lowered his voice. "That's how you know they're coming. There's a big ass door down the hall that slams shut when—"

Someone was punching in a code outside our room, and he cut himself off. He stood up, motioning for me to do so too. I did. The door slid open, revealing a couple of big dudes with big guns.

"Not you," one of them said, looking at me. He turned to Colin. "Just you."

Colin hurried between them as they walked out, not looking back.

As the door shut, suddenly I wished I could leave the room. I realized any sense of security had come from feeling like I wasn't alone, that at least Colin was there.

I wished they'd given me something to do. I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts. I tried to play word association games in my head to distract myself, but somehow I always ended up thinking about Bucky. At least I knew Steve was with him.

I heard the door again about 15 minutes later, and Colin was pushed back into the room harshly, nearly stumbling over.

"Miss me?" he asked, straightening up and strolling casually, like he wasn't just about to hit the floor. He held the back of his hand to his bleeding nose and stepped into the bathroom, calling out, "Those guys are dicks. I gotta say, I'm happy you're here."

"Really?" I asked. Sort of messed up, but I understood the sentiment. I had wished he was here too when I was alone.

"Yeah, really," he said, sitting down on his bed and lowering his voice. "The Avengers are looking for you. I'm 1000 times more likely to get out of here as long as I leech onto you."

Oh.

"Fair enough," I said.

"If Barnes comes in here and rescues us, I call getting carried with the metal arm. You can have the other one."

"No way. I get both arms. You can walk."

"What if we're injured?"

"Then you better limp fast if you wanna keep up, 'cause Bucky walks like he's being perpetually chased."

"What if I'm injured and you're not?"

"He's still carrying me," I said. "Go ahead and break your ankle or something now. Practice limping on it."

"Would Natasha Romanoff carry me out if I asked?"

"Maybe if you were injured and you asked very nicely."

"Cool," he said dreamily. "If we get out of here, will you set me up with her?"

"No."

"Please? We could go on double dates."

"Absolutely the hell not. Now tell me what happened to you."

"I got a little mouthy. But I'm supposed to explain what you're doing to you. I think they think we're friends—or, at least, they think if I tell you this, you'll be more likely to do it. They're coming for us both to take us to separate labs in an hour."

"Why didn't you lead with that?" I demanded.

"'Cause I want to get rescued. I was making sure we were on the same page."

"Just tell me what they want me to do," I said.

"They want robots. Artificially intelligent robots. Like Ultron's army."

"Why?"

"Do you really think they're gonna tell me that?"

"What would your guess be?"

"Fuck, dude, I don't know," he said. "For misguided evil shit. 'Humanity cannot be trusted with its own freedom' shit."

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why?'"

"I mean why are they gonna do evil shit?"

He blinked, staring at me. "They're evil."

"Whatever."

"They want you doing Strucker shit."

"I don't know who that is. I hope his shit is, like, picking flowers."

"His shit was artificially intelligent robots. Among other things."

"Was?"

"He's dead now."

I snorted. "Bodes well for me."

"You should actually do the work. Not being able to recreate the serum last time is one thing. They knew you weren't a biochemist, but chanced it since you've got all that Zola hanging around in there. They tried the same thing with me. But this time they're gonna know you're just dicking around if you don't build something."

I thought for a second "Can I ask them for different materials? Stuff they might not have for me?"

"You can't make a blade, Grace. They'll notice," he said, rolling his eyes. "They'll be watching you."

"I don't want to make a blade! Materials for robots. Like they want."

"Grace. I'm telling you. Whatever this plan is, just shut it down and wait for Barnes."

"Why do you assume I'm up to something? Can I just ask?"

"Fine. What do you want?"

"Silicone. Polyurethane. Hydrogels. Soft materials."

"What, for soft robots?" His brows furrowed.

"Yeah. They're kinda my thing. I told you about them when we were dating."

"Must've been distracted by all the no memories I had. But that's...not as bad as I thought. You can ask, I guess."

A/N: roll credits