Bless The Broken Road

The Winter Soldier and The Kid

The blaring alarm seemed to get increasingly louder with each passing second that Peter stood staring into Bucky's passive face. Red was glowing around the room as the alarm blared, causing the hairs on Peter's arm to rise up with dread.

"Bucky," Peter wrapped his arms around his chest as he tried to swallow down his desire to cry. He felt as if the chance to escape was just at the tip of his finger, quickly getting further and further out of reach. All Peter wanted to do was go home but he couldn't get there without some help.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he took in Peter's skinny frame, stepping forward in a menacing way. Peter bit his lip but didn't take a step back— he didn't know Bucky personally but he'd been told enough stories by Steve to know that the man wasn't evil in any way.

It was like a lightbulb flicking on in Peter's head: Steve! Bucky had clearly been frozen for a while and brainwashed on top of that but maybe mentioning Steve would help clear things up. Peter liked to believe the love of friendship was stronger than whatever evil forces run this hell-hole.

"M-my name is Peter," he swallowed heavily, trying to ignore the loud alarm and the way Bucky's metal arm glinted red in the light. "I need your help! You've never met me but you used to be friends with my biological father!"

Just saying that made Peter want to sit down for a good few minutes. He still wasn't over the fact that Steve was really (or at least allegedly) Peter's biological father. It just seemed so insane considering they'd been friends (and Steve had been dating his Dad) for the past few months. And— gross— it meant Steve had dated his Mom.

"My biological father is Steve Rogers!"

The words were rushed and Peter stumbled over Steve's name but the second they were out there, Bucky's body went rigid. Recognition flashed across the elder man's face, his eyes shining for a simple second. Peter took a step back as Bucky frowned ever so slightly, doing his best to ease the stomachache brewing in his gut. Butterflies were now attacking his insides as Peter's mind screamed that time was running out.

If this didn't work— if Bucky didn't help— Peter was as good as dead.

It was just as Peter was starting to loose all hope, the urge to cry was building up and he could feel his toes start to curl at the thought of being face to face with Petrov again when Bucky spoke. His voice was slightly muffled and his eyes seemed frantic, like he was recovering from extreme disorientation.

"Steve?" Bucky whispered, looking at Peter like he was seeing him for the first time. "Steve. . . Is your father?"

Peter swallowed hard and nodded. "Y-yeah! And these bad guys took me from him— please Bucky, you need to help me get home." He hated how desperate and whiny he sounded (Dad always said beggars can't be choosers but Peter elected to ignore that for now).

Bucky glanced around the vacant room, taking in the red flashing lights and unhygienic torture equipment littered around. Slight understanding seemed to dawn on him as he looked back at Peter. "I remember Steve."

Hope bloomed in Peter's chest. That was all he needed.

"Please help me," tears started to roll down Peter's cheeks but he angrily brushed them away. He wasn't sure if he was crying because the fear of being caught was still looming over his shoulder or because Bucky had regained enough memories to know that Peter wasn't his enemy.

Bucky frowned again, looking extremely close to saying no before he jerked his head up and down in one stiff motion. "I don't know where we are or what is going on." His voice lowered, going back to the dark harshness from earlier. "And you'll have to do as i say: if i say run, you run; if i say duck, you duck."