Bucky's Anchor

Chapter 28 - Zemo's Final Truth

The air was heavy with tension as we moved into a smaller room, the walls lined with old HYDRA equipment and dusty monitors. Zemo was standing near a control panel, his expression calm yet calculating. Steve held him firmly by the arm, but Zemo didn't resist. Instead, he looked at us with an eerie sense of satisfaction, like a man who had already won the game before it even began.

"What is this place?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. The dim lighting and cold metal made my skin crawl, every fiber of my being screaming that we were walking into a trap.

Zemo gestured towards the row of monitors. "This," he said smoothly, "is where the truth finally comes to light."

Steve's grip on Zemo tightened. "What truth?" he demanded. His eyes were hard, ready for a fight, but Zemo remained infuriatingly composed.

"The truth about your friend," Zemo replied, his gaze shifting to Bucky. There was a gleam in his eyes that made my blood run cold. I glanced at Bucky. His face was a mask, but I could see the strain in his eyes. He knew something was coming, something bad.

Zemo pressed a button, and the screens flickered to life. Grainy black-and-white footage began to play. I felt my stomach drop as I recognized the scene. It was an old road, somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, a car speeding along. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat like a drum signaling impending doom.

"December 16, 1991," Zemo narrated. "The day the Winter Soldier was sent on a mission."

I glanced at Bucky, who stood frozen, his eyes locked on the screen. Steve's jaw tightened as he watched, his face pale. I wanted to reach out, to hold Bucky's hand, but I was rooted in place, compelled to witness whatever horror Zemo was about to unleash.

The car on the screen crashed into a tree, the metal crumpling with a sickening force. I watched, horrified, as the driver staggered out, clearly injured. A moment later, a figure emerged from the shadows—Bucky, or rather, the Winter Soldier. My breath caught in my throat.

"No..." I whispered, my voice trembling. "Zemo, what is this?"

Zemo didn't look at me. His eyes were fixed on the footage, a grim satisfaction etched on his face. "This is the day the Winter Soldier completed his mission to retrieve a package," he said. "A package carried by Howard Stark."

My heart sank. I knew the name, knew what it meant. Howard Stark—Tony's father. I turned to Bucky, whose face was now ashen, his eyes wide with horror. The footage continued to play out, showing the Winter Soldier—showing Bucky—dragging Howard Stark from the car and...

"Stop it," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "Stop the footage!"

Steve moved forward as if to block the screen, but it was too late. The image of Bucky delivering the fatal blow to Howard Stark was seared into our minds. My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat. I turned away, unable to watch anymore, but the sounds of the scene—the grunts, the sickening crunch—echoed in my ears.

Bucky staggered back, his face contorting with anguish. "I did that," he muttered, his voice hollow. "I killed them."

Steve released Zemo, stepping back in shock. "Oh my God," he whispered. "Bucky, I..."

Bucky pressed his hands to his temples, his breathing becoming erratic. I rushed to his side, placing my hands on his arms. "Bucky," I said urgently, trying to reach him. "Look at me. That wasn't you. You were brainwashed."

His eyes met mine, and I saw the sheer terror in them. "But it was me," he choked out. "I did it with my own hands."

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. "No, Bucky, it wasn't you. It was HYDRA. They used you."

Zemo watched us with cold detachment. "You see, Captain," he said, turning to Steve, "even the best of us can be turned into monsters."

"Shut up!" I snapped, my voice trembling with rage. "You manipulated him. You made him do those things!"

Zemo's lips curled into a thin smile. "He did them nonetheless."

Bucky pulled away from me, stumbling back as if he couldn't bear to be touched. "I killed innocent people," he said, his voice breaking. "I killed Stark's parents. How can I ever make up for that?"

I wanted to reach out again, to tell him that we would find a way through this, but he was too far gone, retreating into the dark recesses of his mind where the Winter Soldier still held power.

Steve finally found his voice. "Zemo, you're not going to get away with this," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"I already have," Zemo replied, his eyes gleaming with victory. "I have destroyed you from within. The Avengers will never be the same. Stark will never forgive Barnes, and you, Captain, will be left alone with the pieces of your broken ideals."

A wave of despair washed over me. Zemo had played us all. He had pitted us against each other, used our secrets and our guilt to tear us apart. I looked at Bucky, who was now sitting on the cold floor, his head in his hands, rocking slightly. The sight shattered me. This was the man I had come to care for, a man who had been used and tortured, who was now drowning in the weight of his actions.

"Zemo," I said, my voice trembling with both anger and sorrow. "You may have broken us, but you will never break him."

Zemo's eyes flickered to me, an amused glint in them. "We shall see," he said, his tone cold. "We shall see what becomes of a man who cannot escape his past."

Steve moved towards Bucky, kneeling beside him. "Bucky," he said softly, his voice filled with pain. "We will get through this. We will find a way."

Bucky didn't respond. His eyes were vacant, staring at a past he couldn't change. I crouched down beside him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Bucky," I whispered. "We're here for you. Steve and I... we're not going anywhere."

He looked at me then, his eyes filled with tears. "I don't deserve this," he whispered. "I don't deserve any of it."

My heart broke. "Yes, you do," I said fiercely. "You deserve a chance to heal, to find peace. What they did to you—what Zemo did—doesn't define who you are."

He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I don't know who I am," he said, his voice cracking. "All I know is the blood on my hands."

I felt tears slip down my cheeks. I wanted to take his pain away, to make him see that he was more than his past, more than what HYDRA had turned him into. But the darkness in his eyes told me that this was a battle he would have to fight himself, a battle against the demons that haunted him.

Steve stood up, his eyes hardening as he looked at Zemo. "We're taking him out of here," he said coldly. "You've done enough."

Zemo didn't resist as Steve moved to secure him. He simply watched us with that same eerie calm, as if he had already made peace with the outcome. "Perhaps," he said quietly, "but the seeds of doubt are already planted."

As we prepared to leave, I stayed by Bucky's side, helping him to his feet. He was unsteady, his body and mind battered by the weight of what he had seen. I wrapped my arm around him, guiding him towards the exit. "We'll get through this," I whispered. "One step at a time."

Bucky didn't respond, but he allowed me to support him as we walked. His silence was heavy, filled with the shadows of his past. And as we left the base, I couldn't shake the feeling that Zemo's plan had succeeded in ways we had yet to fully understand.