fist_of_hydra | Snarky ColdWinter #2

Snarky ColdWinter #2

The team had been arguing for a while now, and getting nowhere. They'd narrowed Savage's location down to Italy in September of 1944, but couldn't get any farther than that. James thought he had a pretty good guess what Savage wanted - this was where HYDRA had most of their facilities, and the Red Skull would be the perfect ally to Savage.

The only people who would have any further intelligence about Savage's possible movements were the Allied or Axis forces. Neither were going to hand the information over to a bunch of strangers. Ray wanted to play dress up and march in, pretend to be an officer and demand the information. Sara wanted to go in at night and steal it. There were half a dozen other ideas floating around, and all of them were bad. Quite a few of them were likely to get them shot at.

Ray might be onto something, though. At least, if you turned your head and looked at the idea sideways. Trying to march in and claim to be an officer nobody in the camp had ever seen was asking for a swift visit from the MPs.

Marching in and claiming to be an officer everyone in the camp had seen was another matter.

James had been lurking by the doorway, as was his habit, rather than sitting around the table with the others. He hadn't been contributing, so he was able to slip out without inciting comment. Once in the hall, he strode toward the fabrication room. "Gideon. Do you have any footage or photos of me in uniform in this time period?"

"Of course, Mr. Barnes."

"Good. I need a copy made, and make sure it looks worn and used. Can you do that?"

"Certainly."

"Then do it." James strode into the fabrication area, where a uniform was already synthesizing. He paused, looking at it, and rubbed a hand over the scruff on his chin.

Five minutes later he strode back toward the main room. It felt odd to be back in this uniform. Gideon had even managed to make it smell right - which was to say, like blood and gunpowder and harsh lye soap. Even stranger was not feeling his hair brushing against his cheeks and neck. He hadn't had short hair since HYDRA took him, and he found he already missed it long.

This wasn't him, anymore. It felt like the ghost of Bucky Barnes was riding his shoulders, and the weight was pressing him down.

"...are we supposed to do, walk in and ask them nicely?" Sara was saying, her tone full of exasperation as she threw her hands up at Ray.

"That's exactly what we're gonna do." James rose his voice enough to cut through the babble. Everyone turned to look at him, and most of them did a wide-eyed double-take. He raised an eyebrow at them. "It's just a matter of the right person doing the asking."

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"It was pretty miserable," Bucky agreed, breathless with pain. He had no idea Len was making some kind of reference. "Gotta say, lousy as the hospitality was the first time, they've really outdone themselves this time. Here I thought they couldn't go any lower."

A wave of pain swept over him, and he had to pause for a moment for nausea to pass. This wasn't going to be healed up any time soon, and it was going to make getting out of here almost impossible. "I hate having to wait around like a damsel in distress to be rescued."

"Neither of us is a damsel," Len growled. He began to rip pieces off of his shirt to bind the worst of the cuts on Bucky's feet, not caring in this case that it would reveal some of the scars he bore. "When we get out of here, we'll prove it by murdering the lot of them."

Bucky laughed, a sound of genuine - if rather dark - amusement. "You got yourself a deal, pal. Better yet, let's do it and never let the guys know we got captured. It was part of the plan all along, right?"

Having Len wrap his feet made him hiss and go tense, but he didn't kick or pull away. Once the makeshift bandages were on it did feel a little better. "I dunno what the hell they were doing," he said, once he had his breath back. "Why torture me? They weren't after information. And while I'm the first in line to hate Zola, he's not..."

He frowned, fishing for a better word, but shrugged. "I don't want to say 'needlessly cruel' because it's all fucking needless, but you know what I mean? It was like he was testing something, not torturing me for the fun of it."

Len settled back. There was no prison that could hold him - that he was sure of - but he couldn't see a way to do what Bucky suggested just yet.

Not just yet.

"I can't even begin to guess," he murmured, but he wasn't really paying close attention. Did it matter why Zola did this?

He lapsed into a distracted silence. "He hurt your feet," he murmured. "Why?"

"Fuck if I know," Bucky muttered. "Stop me from running, maybe? I mean, I did escape the first time HYDRA had me."

He kept trying to find a position that wasn't agony. Not being able to use his feet to brace himself meant he kept sliding down the wall, the concussion still making him dizzy.

In the end he wound up braced against Len's body instead, head on the other man's shoulder just to stop the world from spinning.

"...Maybe," Len admitted, glowering even more.

As Bucky settled against him, he wrapped his arm around the other man's shoulders automatically. He was more slender than he was used to, less bulky with powerful muscle than his real lover, but it was still a good and comfortable fit.

"Here," he murmured. He slipped his arms under Bucky's knees and hauled him up sideways, so he was half sitting over Len's lap. Supported by Len's arm around his shoulders, the position kept his feet from being planted fully on the floor as well. It was awkward for Len, having his arms chained together, but not too bad.

The last thing Bucky had expected was to be yanked into the guy's lap. He yelped and flailed, but didn't fight the grip. The position they ended up in was embarrassing as hell. The jokes were going to be bad enough as it was; if the Commandos saw him like this, the 'princess' jokes would never stop.

On the other hand, he had to admit there was a lot less agonizing pressure against the flayed soles of his feet, like this. "If I was your fella, I'd sure as hell be objecting to this," he muttered, but didn't argue or try to get free. "Uh, thanks. Can't be comfortable for you."

"I'm sure he'll get over it," Len growled, though he wasn't really.

It wasn't terribly comfortable, but it was a lot more comfortable than Bucky obviously had been. His shoulders ached, but that was that. It could be worse.

"How long do you think it'll be before they decide to feed us?"

"You're assuming they will," Bucky snorted. "They're probably going to try to soften us up. If we're lucky, we won't be here long enough for it to matter."

He was relaxing slowly, almost reluctantly, but he was relaxing. He was still exhausted, and his head still ached from the earlier blow, though not half as much as his throbbing feet.

"You're putting yourself out an awful lot for a guy you barely know," he pointed out, still not sure what the hell was really going on with the other man. His insistence that Bucky not die had been oddly fervent, almost passionate.

"Yeah, they probably will," Len agreed. "Mick'll come for us... or they'll come for us again, and we'll deal with it." He gritted his teeth, lowering his head. "I won't let them take you again without a fight."

But Bucky's question brought up something he didn't want to address. "Don't know what you mean. Shouldn't we have each other's backs?"

Funny how the guy denied any particular concern, immediately after declaring he'd fight to prevent HYDRA from hurting Bucky again. This man and his crew were literally some of the strangest people Bucky had ever met, and made no sense at all.

And that was even before he started considering stuff like the flaming man and the bird-winged girl.

"You're just not gonna explain no matter how much I bug you, are you?" he asked with a sigh. He recognized the signs of unbudging stubbornness. He ought to, as much time as he'd spent with Steve over the course of his life.

"There's nothing to explain," Len said stubbornly. "I'm just a selfless sort of guy."

He knew Bucky wouldn't believe it, but he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't very well explain the truth - that Bucky and James were the same person. It would surely shatter Bucky's image of himself, at the very least.

"Sure," Bucky said, and his tone made it clear he was anything but sure. Snart really didn't strike him as the selfless type, certainly not to that level. Even Steve probably wouldn't have been quite as passionate about saving and defending a total stranger.

There was no point in antagonizing him by trying to pry it out of him now, though. Sighing, he rested his head against the bigger man's shoulder. He wasn't going to sleep, really. He just needed to rest his eyes a moment...

Having his arm get un-ripped off wasn't the sort of thing that seemed like it ought to be a handicap. James was just about ready to tear the fucking thing off himself, except he knew that would only make the problem worse.

The lack of the familiar weight of his metal arm was throwing him completely off balance. He was so accustomed to compensating that he now kept listing to the right. If they had to get into a fight, not only was the balance issue going to throw him off, but he'd have to actively remember not to try to use his left arm to block bullets or punch through things.

Worst of all was going through all this struggle in front of Mick fucking Rory, of all people. Not someone he wanted to be showing his vulnerable side.

Mick thought it was really fucking weird how Len's fucktoy was acting today. Sure, he didn't have a metal arm anymore - that had to be odd. Okay. Mick could understand that.

But he kept listing to the side like a goddamn overloaded ship, and giving Mick looks like he was going to bite his head off.

Mick helped out by walking past him on the right-hand side - the side James was leaning towards - every so often, and James would jerk upright like he didn't want to get so close to Mick. Then, he seemed to stop noticing so much. After the third time like that, where James didn't straighten up at all, Mick helpfully reached out and pushed him over a few inches.

Then he pointed. "Think that's the place?" There was a squat bunker up ahead, surrounded by razor wire-topped fence and guarded by two guards in what looked like HYDRA uniforms.

James growled at the push, but didn't object beyond that. As much as he hated it, he knew Rory was doing it on purpose and he did actually need the help.

The comment made him snort. "You do realize I'm aware you're not anywhere near as stupid as you pretend to be, right?" He settled into a hidden spot in the bushes, scanning the security of the base. "They've let the trees grow too close in the back, we may be able to climb them and get over the fence that way. But there will be patrols."

Mick scowled and glared at the guards. Climbing trees? That was all sneaky like Len. James was even worse than Snart was for that kind of thing.

"You sneak in the back," he growled. "I'm going in the front. They've got my partner. They're gonna fucking burn."

James gave him a Look. "There's only two out here, but there could be two hundred inside. If they figure out we're here for Len and Barnes, they'll grab them and hold them hostage. You wanna risk getting them hurt worse than they already have been?"

Not that the idea of seeing a HYDRA base go up in flames was unappealing, mind. "The moment we've got Len and Barnes out, I'll damn well help you set the fires. I suggest starting with the ammo storage, just for best effect."

"Yeah, okay," Mick said, though he wasn't dissuaded in the least. "But see, that's why it's such a good plan. They all come runnin' out to me, and you sneak in the back and get Snart and you out. I'll be a diversion."

Despite himself, James snorted in amusement. "You just wanna light things up that much sooner. It's got nothing to do with a plan."

He didn't dismiss the idea out of hand, however. Mick did have a point. "If they're hurt, though, I'll need help getting them out. I can't carry them both, couldn't even if I still had the arm."

"Don't worry," Mick said with deep assurance. "They won't know what hit 'em. You'll come through behind them and I'll come through the front. It'll be great. Besides, we can't do your plan - I don't climb trees"

He clapped Bucky on the back and then jerked his head. "Stop pussy-footing around and go. I'll give you ten minutes before I start shooting."

Didn't climb trees. James rolled his eyes, but gave in. "I still say you're just looking for the excuse." Which was almost certainly true - Mick Rory would take any excuse he could get to burn things.

However, that didn't mean it wouldn't work. He pushed up and jogged for the back of the compound, ghosting silently through the underbrush. At least he was finally starting to figure out how to compensate for the loss of his metal arm.

Hopefully, just in time to have to relearn how to deal with the weight, once he got his past self out of this damn HYDRA prison.

The first indication Len and Bucky had that something was up was shouting out in the corridor. Bucky jerked away from a half doze, still draped over Snart's lap to keep his feet off the floor.

The German cursing grew fainter and louder by turns as men raced along the hallways. More importantly, it went from angry to frantic. A strange whine overlaid the sound of rifle fire, and a whistling sound accompanying by the whoosh of flames.

"Sounds like the cavalry has arrived," Bucky commented, grinning and trying to hide his immense relief.

Len was also dozing, but his head came up at the sound of shooting. He grinned fiercely at the sound of Mick's heat gun, and disentangled himself from Bucky to get to his feet. "Just stay there," he said, positioning himself just beside the door. "If anyone comes through who isn't one of us, just try to keep out of the way while I take them down."

So it was Snart's people - no surprise there, none of the Commandos' weapons made noises like that. The fire sounded a bit like some of the flamethrowers HYDRA used, but not quite the same.

The other unidentifiable noise sounded again, and Bucky saw ice creep across the wall across from the slits in their door. Snart's ice weapon, then - the one he'd dropped when they fell. One of his friends must have picked it up.

Bucky wasn't entirely surprised when it was the masked James who appeared at the door a moment later. "Back up," he ordered them. "I'll freeze the door off."

Len breathed out. "My hero," he purred, and took a few steps back. He was frustrated that they'd had to just sit here like ducks, waiting to be rescued. But at least he didn't have to wait longer or risk Bucky getting hurt more.

"Hey, you saved me from HYDRA first, I'm just returning the favour," James reminded him, and aimed the cold gun at the metal door.

Without the extra power granted by his metal arm, he had to freeze it far more than he normally would have needed. By the time it was fragile enough for him to punch through it, ice had crept along the walls of the cell and nearly reached the two men inside.

James tossed the gun to its rightful owner and stepped aside so they could crawl out. He frowned as the sharp scent of blood reached him, and scanned them both anxiously. "Are you hurt? How bad?"

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