Taken. (A Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes story)

Chapter 2

Five days after alleged death.

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After the crash, Bucky walked the fifteen miles back to the rest stop he had pasted before the car accident. It took him five days in his weakened state. He'd managed to survive on puddles of stagnant rain water and any plant life he could digest. Two of those five days were spent sleeping in piles of gathered leaves and soft dirt. Bucky knew HYDRA thought him to be dead and for the first time in four months slept peacefully. Five days later he walked out of the woods onto the manicured grass of the rest stop. He found the bathroom and locked himself in the handicap stall. Bucky took his knife from it's holster, dabbed his face with water and began to cut away his scraggly beard. He then took the knife to his hair, which had grown past his shoulders, and began cutting away. Bucky cut his hair to just under his chin and washed it in the sink. 

He watched as the dirty, greasy hand soap dripped from his hair into the sink. Bucky rinsed out the soap with great difficulty and undressed. When he was down to his underwear he took the cheap, thin toilet paper and stuck it under the running water of the sink. Bucky took the dripping mess and rubbed it up and down his torso, scrubbing at the caked dirt and dried blood. He wasn't satisfied with his look but it was better than before.

Bucky walked around the empty parking lot, looking for a new car to steal. He turned the corner and saw a young couple getting out of their Jeep complaining about having to use the restroom. Bucky took this as his chance to get away from the rest stop and drive back to New York and look for the blonde hair, blue eyed man on the helicarrier. He waited until they were inside to start after the car, he jimmied open the lock, took out the girls bags and noticed the mans wallet in the floor board of the drivers side. He rolled his eyes at the mans stupidity, and took out the three hundred dollars in cash from the wallet, stuffed it in his pants and threw the wallet over by the girls suitcases. Bucky hot-wired the car and drove off, heading north. He drove all that night and through the next day, only stopping when he needed gas. 

He made it to Brooklyn by daybreak on the third day. He ditched the Jeep on the out skirts of the city and packed some of the clothes and remaining money in the back pack the owner of the Jeep had left. Bucky walked down the side streets and through back alleys trying to stay out of sight of CCTV cameras. He didn't know where he was going but it was like his body was on auto pilot. After several hours of walking he came upon a desolate brick building. The brick was crumbling and the roof had caved in on one side of the building, but he still went up to the flight of rusted metal stairs. He cautiously put one foot on the bottom step and tested his weight, it creaked but didn't break so he continued to climb, testing each step before he put his full weight on it. He made it up the two flights of stairs and came to a familiar door. He looked around for something but he didn't know what. Then, Bucky's eye landed on a fake rock five feet away. He went over and picked it up, looking at it from all angles. On the bottom was the stain from a key that had long since rusted away.

An image of a small man, no more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, flashed through his mind. He remembered the words he said to the small man that day, "I'm with you till the end of the line, pal."

The same man now two and a half times that size had said the same words to him four months ago on the helicarrier before he plummeted to the water below. Bucky wasn't expecting the head splitting ache that would ring through his scull at such a happy memory. He dropped the stained rock and clutched his head, falling to his knees. He wrapped his fingers in his hair, pulling at the roots. He didn't know how long he sat there, hands tangled in his hair, tears streaming down his face, and teeth ground together, but when the splitting ache subsided he bent over and retched on the rusted metal platform. Bucky sat there staring at the vomit, he didn't understand why that happened. He sat there sweaty and aching, after several minutes he stood up and went to the familiar old door. The rusted handle hardly moved, he stood up straight and kicked the door as hard as he could right under the handle. The rotted wood around the dead bolt easily gave way and the door swung open, revealing the rotting interior. Bucky walked inside, looking around he saw the old sofa with the stuffing pouring out of the ripped cushions. He walked further inside toward the back bed room where a was lumpy mattress lying over the rotted and rusted bed frame.

He walked over and sat down, sinking into the molding fabric. He looked around and smiled, another imagine flashed through his mind. The small man and himself lying in the bed, the small man shivered as a cold draft blew through the room.

"You okay, Steve?" He asked the smaller man.

"Yeah Buck, I'm okay." The small man, Steve, had said through chattering teeth.

"You're not okay, come'ere punk." He'd said with a small smile.

"You're a jerk." Steve said with a smile and scooted over into the larger mans open arms.

"There you go, can't have you getting sick again now can we." Bucky said with a small laugh. He wrapped his arms tighter around Steve and as Steve nuzzled his cold nose into Bucky's neck.

The skull splitting ache raced it's way across Bucky's temples as he clutched his head again. He didn't understand why this was happening. Why would such a perfect memory hurt this bad. The only thing he could think of was that HYDRA had put in a pain trigger for when he remember anything from his past life. He fell forward and retched on the floor again, he'd already lost every thing in his stomach and it turned into dry heaving. Bucky sat in pain for hours, he didn't move even after his joints began to ache and his legs were almost to stiff to move. When he finally got up the will to move the sun had long since gone down, as he stood up the joints in his legs screamed with pain and the vertebrae in his back clicked and popped into place again. He didn't want to stay here any longer, all it did was cause him pain.

He grabbed the bag with the spare clothes and left, not bothering to fix the door. He walked carelessly down the rusty steps and onto the hard concrete. Bucky broke into a run trying to leave the horrible pain behind at the old apartment. He ran down muddy alleyways, getting sludge caked into his shoes and pants. He ran until his lungs were cramping and his legs gave out, he ran until the stitch in his side became an unbearable pain. But it didn't matter how fast or how long Bucky ran, he couldn't get rid of the dull ache flashing through his skull.

He needed to find Steve, maybe he could help him, but he had no idea where he was. The last time he saw Steve was in Washington D.C., but he couldn't still be there, that was four months ago. Bucky did the only thing he could think of, he walked as long as he could looking for a place where his old friend might be. Bucky walked well into the night only stopping at dawn to sleep, curled up, in an alley. He didn't know what time it was when he woke up, but it was the person shaking him that got his attention.

He cracked one eye open, trying to gauge the best way he could defend himself. In an instant Bucky jumped up, slamming the top of his head into the persons chin, grabbed their arm and slammed them in to the wall of the alley.

"Whoa, buddy! Hey, calm down I'm just trying to help!" The man said with his face crushed against the slimy brick.

"Who are you." Bucky said, terrified that HYDRA had found him again.

The mans body went stiff and a chocking noise came from his throat.

"Bucky?" The man said tears brimming in his eyes from both pain and happiness.

"Who the hell are you?" Bucky asked confused, getting more nervous each passing second.

"It's me Steve, I know you remember me Bucky. Now please, let me go so I can take you home. I want to help you." Steve said on the verge of tears.

Bucky was hesitant but let him go nonetheless. Steve turned around looking Bucky in the face. His smile reached his ears as he wrapped his friend in a bear hug.

"I'm so sorry Bucky. This is all my fault. If I had caught you before you fell off the train none of this would have happened." Bucky didn't know what to do, he knew Steve wasn't a threat but he felt vulnerable with his arms wrapped around him. "Come on, I'm taking you home."