Chapter Text
Chapter One
“What do you mean, he’ll only work with me?”
“That’s what I said. The Wakandans have apparently released Zemo after he’s done his 2 years rehabilitation in lieu of a further prison sentence and S.H.I.E.L.D want to use him however they can…I mean why wouldn’t they want the man who so easily brought down the Avengers on our side, I can’t imagine anything is going to go wrong with that plan… anyway they picked him up and stuck him at HQ, but he’s refusing to work with anyone but you.”
Bucky glowered at what Sam was telling him, uncomfortable in the feeling that Zemo viewed him as special in some way. He hadn’t told anyone what had happened between him and the Sokovian before the Dora Milaje had taken him away, not even his therapist, and he knew- don’t ask him why but he just knew- that Zemo hadn’t told anyone either. Unsure what to read into Zemo’s request and how this was going to play out when they arrived at HQ, Bucky focused on finding out as much information from Sam as he could.
Since taking over as Captain America, Sam had done a lot to change the public’s perception of the shield and what it stood for, and Bucky was proud of him (not that he’d say as much, preferring to snark at him any chance he got). Working closely with, but not under, S.H.I.E.L.D Sam had access to a lot of information, some even Bucky himself couldn’t find out without a lot of digging. Bucky took more of a back seat after Sam took over the mantel, figuring the best person for the job had the shield now and he didn’t need a mostly reformed assassin dragging him down. Sam, the pain in the ass that he is, didn’t let Bucky escape quite so easily though and often brought Bucky in as a consultant whenever issues such as Hydra came up, because as much as Bucky would like to forget his time as the Winter Soldier, he couldn’t deny that he had decades worth of knowledge and experience about Hydra trapped in his brain, so he might as well use it to help burn them to the ground. Bucky wished they’d stop fucking popping out the ground like daisies though.
It was because of his role as consultant that he was in the car with Sam, being told that he was apparently the only person Baron Fucking Zemo wanted to work with. Honestly, Bucky thought, I have the worst luck.
“Can he do that? Refuse to work with anyone else? Surely Fury would just tell him to piss off or summin’”
“It seems he’s got a lot of knowledge and connections that they want and they’re willing to play by his rules for now to get it. That’s where you come in, my friend.”
“Of all the people, why would he want me?”
“Maybe he felt a connection over the scents of cherry blossom tea or some shit, I don’t know. All I know is that since they brought him in, he’s refused to speak to anyone apart from to say he’ll only work with you. So, whatever reason he’s got for wanting your cyborg ass, he’s keeping it to himself.”
“Real helpful, Sammy.” Bucky’s frown deepened though, as what Sam had said hit a little too close to home for the super solider.
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As they’d waited for the Dora Milaje to arrive to take Zemo off their hands after he’d helped them find Karli and their 8 hours had run out, Bucky had been left to keep an eye on the Sokovian whilst Sam patrolled outside. Stiffly sat on the sofa next to each other, Bucky kept guard silently whilst Zemo hummed ‘Baba Black Sheep’ under his breath. Feeling the stress of the past few days weigh heavily on his shoulders, Bucky rolled his left arm back, vibranium plates shifting with the movements.
“Does it hurt? Your arm?” Zemo asked with a look of genuine interest on his face. “No.” Bucky responded gruffly. “Not, since Shuri did whatever she did when she built the new arm. It just feels like my other one weight-wise, just made of metal. The ones Hydra made me always caused pain… but then that was par for the course, I guess.” Bucky flushed as he fully understood who he was confessing his pain to, knowing it was too late to take back the words; steadying himself to be mocked and manipulated for his weakness, by Zemo.
“Your strength never ceases to impress me, James.” Bucky whipped his head up in shock at Zemo’s response, staring at him with wide confused eyes. “That you survived all the pain and torture that Hydra put you through and came out of it with your soul still intact, is not the will of a weak man. Serum or no, very few would have survived what you went through…… It is impressive.” Bucky flushed again, this time at the unexpected praise and swallowed unsure how to respond to Zemo. “There may be no one else like Steve Rogers, as the Flag Smashers and decades of history have proven, but I do think perhaps… he is not the only exception anymore. I still maintain that my logic is sound and that super soldiers should not exist, but I do acknowledge that you are…. different.”
The sound of the front door opening prevented Bucky from replying, (though what he would have said remains unclear even to Bucky himself), as the Dore Milaje entered the building. “Ah, my ride has arrived. Be well, James. It has been a pleasure…. until next time.” With a soft smirk, Zemo stood up to meet his fate as he was handcuffed and lead out the room by Ayo, leaving Bucky sat on the sofa more confused than he was before all this began and wondering just what Zemo meant by…. well…. everything.
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“Hey man, we’re here.” Shaking off the memory, Bucky got out of the car and entered the HQ building. The scowl (or resting murder face as Clint happily calls it) on his face stopped anyone approaching him; for which Bucky was glad as he couldn’t be dealing with the fear or worse the fawning, as they made their way up to the fifth floor where Zemo was apparently terrorizing S.H.I.E.L.D with his silence.
Getting out of the elevator, Sam and Bucky strode into the room taking in the three figures already in there spread out around the long oval table that dominated the small glass room: Nick Fury stood at the head of the table, one eye missing nothing of the goings on around him, Maria Hill sat in the middle mediating the meeting and at the opposite end sat Zemo, who looked the same in his fur-lined coat and neatly combed hair, but who Bucky sensed had changed. He couldn’t explain to anyone what had changed exactly, only that the metallic scent of pain and grief no longer clung to the air around him. Perhaps the two years of rehabilitation had been successful where 7 years imprisonment had failed- indeed, Bucky himself was proof of how well the Wakandans’ methods worked- but Bucky would wait and see how this would play out.
“Maria, Fury- good to see you. Zemo.” Sam said with a nod of his head. Bucky remained silent, acknowledging them all with the lift of his chin as he settled against the wall, crossing his arms. “Right, now that everyone is here, let’s go over the plan” Maria spoke in a tone that indicated that she would suffer no interruptions. “There’s been noise that Hydra have set up shop in a small town in New Jersey using the fact that the town generally falls under the radar to start experimenting on and distributing Chitari weapons. Yes, we thought we’d got them all as well, but it seems some were missed in the clean up and Hydra have decided that cloning them and selling them to arms dealers is the way to go.”
“Sam, we need you to check out these leads on where the arms dealers are taking the weapons” Maria handed him a list of thirty possible locations as she carried on with the briefing. “Barnes and Zemo, as you’ve given us no choice but to pair you together, you’ll be going to New Jersey to stake out the town and see what you can dig up about where Hydra are hiding out and where they’re storing the weapons.”
Fucking New Jersey. As if this situation wasn’t bad enough, he’s got to go to fucking New Jersey with only Zemo for company. Could this get any worse? Bucky thought. “Barnes, you’ll be in charge and you’ll need to keep an eye on Zemo while you’re there. Zemo, whilst we may want you on our side, we won’t hesitate to dispatch you elsewhere to places less pleasant, if you betray us. Now, the final thing. The town is small so expect a lot of nosey neighbours- use them to our advantage as we all know a lonely, old lady can sniff out gossip better than a blood hound- to minimize any suspicion we had to house you together, so here’s all the info on your new identities.”
Taking the packets from Maria, Bucky opened his whilst keeping one eye on his new undercover partner. As he briefly read the dossier, Bucky groaned. Of fucking course.
For the foreseeable future he was married. To Zemo. And they would be living together. Alone.
He was screwed.
Making eye contact with the Sokovian, Bucky both cursed and flushed at the smirk on Zemo’s lips.
“Let’s get to work, shall we husband?” Zemo murmured slipping on the wedding ring that was included in the pack before standing up and sauntering towards him.
Yep, Bucky was screwed.