Chapter 5: Gone

*** Last chapter! Not as long as the others though! Enjoy! ***

He didn't speak. The SHIELD medical team worked on him, quickly, even fearfully, but he didn't speak. They restrained him in a cell, converted to a hospital room, and he didn't speak. He never made eye contact, he never acknowledged the presence of anyone, he simply sat, and hung his head. Or lay in bed and stared at the ceiling.

He could tell by the voice patterns of those around him, that he was frustrating them all. Bucky simply did not care. He wasn't looking for an escape, he wasn't trying to get away. He was simply there.

They brought in a terrified technician to look at his arm, at the damage it had sustained from the shocks he'd received in Hydra's electric cage, and he simply sat there, letting the young man work over it, fawn over some of it, and then stared at the floor when the guy left.

In a matter of days, he felt healed to normal, and knew that he had reached a point where he could and should escape. He didn't try. He hadn't been able to get through to her, to reach her when she really needed it, and it marked him as a failure. He couldn't forgive himself.

Day after day passed in this way. He was silent and still, unfocused and clearly unhappy. Agent May came down several times after he'd healed, attempting to start up conversation with him. At first he didn't even listen to her, her voice droning senselessly while he stared at the concrete floor, or while he leaned his head back on the wall he was sitting against, eyes closed.

"This was her choice," the first of May's words to finally break through his haze, shocked him out of his stupor. Bucky opened his eyes and turned to her. He'd been standing, facing away from her, arms hanging uselessly at his sides, ignoring her again when she came down the stairs of the SHIELD facility that lead to this holding cell. When he finally looked at her, she was sitting easily in a chair, just on the other side of the force field which acted as the fourth wall of his cell.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better," he commented flatly, meeting her hard gaze. May shrugged. "I don't care how it makes you feel, to be honest," she informed him, "I just thought I'd let you know, because it doesn't seem to me like you were really aware of it."

"Aware?" He snapped, taking a step towards her, "Aware?" His face pulled into the hard lines of a dangerous glare, but she remained placidly calm in the face of his emotion. "You wasted your breath then, Agent," he spat, "Trust me when I say, I'm perfectly aware that this was her choice."

"You sure about that?" She asked him easily. Bucky blinked at her, not certain how to answer. What the hell is wrong with this woman? Why the hell does this matter?

"Did you respect her? Did you trust her? Did you care about what she thought and felt?" May rattled off the series of questions at him and he went rigid, striding aggressively towards the force field. "YES – of course I did!" He shouted at her. May got to her feet, stepping up as closely as possible to the other side of the force field, tilting her head to stare up at him, her face serious and hard.

"Did you believe she had the right to live her life as she saw fit?"

"Screw you," Bucky snarled at her.

"Did her opinions and ideas matter to you?"

"Shut up," he muttered angrily.

"Are you capable of being supportive? Of being trusting?"

"Shut up," he growled angrily.

"You're so wrapped up in what you're feeling you can't even pause for a second to consider how she is feeling, can you? To try and see her side in this."

"Shut! Up!" He yelled at her. His booming cry echoed around the small room for a moment. She turned away from him, unperturbed. "What happens next for you, Barnes?" She replied quietly, "Do you remain locked up? Do you give up? Do you disappear and leave it at that?"

"I'm not going anywhere in here," he shot back, still breathing heavily, upset from her prodding words. May shrugged and turned back to him. "Things change," she answered cryptically. Before he could push for more, she turned and strode from the room, leaving him to stare after her, mystified by the entire exchange.

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They left him alone for days after that. He slept, he ate, he took a brief shower, but mostly, he found himself unable to think about anything other than May's antagonizing words. Of course I respect her. He thought endlessly about things Winnie had done, the things he'd seen her do, the growth of her power, her struggle to train with it. Of course her opinion matters. Of course I trust her. Winnie, above all others in the world, he trusted implicitly. He would jump off a cliff for her, lay in a roaring fire for her, eat a bullet for her. He would do literally anything in the world to keep her safe. To keep her happy.

She doesn't want you to follow. What makes her happy is not being with you, is keeping you away. He shook his head. This thing he didn't think he could do for her. As the days alone with his thoughts wore on, he came to understand what May had been trying to do by upsetting him. She thinks Winnie made the right choice. Bucky knew, if he were in Winnie's shoes, he would have done exactly what she did. He knew he'd even take it further, and he'd likely end the threat he represented rather than risk her looking for him.

That made him sit bolt upright, breaking away from his thoughts in a hurry. His heart began to race at the thought of Winnie attempting to take that ultimate step. She wouldn't. He held onto the thought that she would not leave the rest of them that way. She'd hide from them, hide from everyone, maybe forever, but she'd never take her own life. He didn't think he could handle an entire lifetime away from her though.

She'll never come out of hiding, not unless all of Hydra is gone. Bucky climbed to his feet, realization flooding his body. He knew what he needed to do, then. What needed to happen for him to get her back. Hunting for her will only push her further away, make her more desperate. No, he needed to make it safe for her.

Bucky's eyes were drawn to the walls of his cells, his heart sinking. He had to get out of here first and they didn't seem inclined to hold the door open for him. Steve won't leave me here forever.

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Steve's first instinct, when it came to his friends, was to act. Act immediately and make it better. He felt like he'd been arguing for weeks with Fury about getting Bucky back. Fury seemed to think Bucky was where he belonged, locked up, locked away, a threat to no one.

Steve would have just gone alone and just made it happen, only he didn't know where this secret SHIELD base was. Sam was working with Clint, trying to reverse the tracking that had been built into Winnie's suit, trying to untangle the mess of the device, the security in it, to try and backtrack from when it had stopped tracking, back to where she, Bucky, Nat, and Sam had been before, at the SHIELD facility. It was slow going, and even then, if they managed to unwind all of it, Clint wasn't confident that they'd know where the facility was.

"It's just going to give us all of the places she was in, Steve," Clint had tried to explain, "It won't tell us how long she was located anywhere, just that she was there."

"Then find out where all those places were," Steve reasoned seriously, "I'll go to every damn one if I have to."

"It's not that simple, Steve," Sam piped up, from his seat near the computer they were using to do all of this. Steve shook his head and waved them back to their work. He wished he knew where Nat had gone. After everything that had gone down in Puerto Rico, she'd disappeared again. He knew she would find a way to locate the facility very easily. However, Clint had maintained that she was likely shaken by all that happened and needed some time to regroup. Steve doubted that. He felt certain that she was out hunting Winnie.

Bruce or Tony might be able to help quickly as well. Steve grumbled angrily to himself as he stalked back to the office Fury was working out of in their current location at the old dam. Tony had laughed at him and hung up when he'd called to ask for help. Steve had known it was a long shot, that Tony didn't give a shit about Bucky. He was certain that Tony would help search for Winnie, but Tony seemed to think she needed to stay hidden, that she needed to be left alone.

Steve stalked into the office Fury was in, a glare settling on his face in preparation for another futile conversation. Fury glanced up at him briefly, sighing a little in resignation when he saw Steve back for yet another round.

"No," Nick said, pre-emptively. Steve rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. "You know, eventually we'll figure this out, figure out where they're holding him, and if I have to go, with my own team, to break him out, it's not going to be pretty," Steve warned him. Fury said nothing, looking away to grab his cup of coffee.

"As far as I'm concerned, Bucky has been captured by the enemy, is being held against his will, and is in eminent danger," Steve continued, "Any attempt I make to go in there will be considered a dangerous extraction. I won't show any mercy and it won't be clean."

"Barnes can't wander free," Fury replied flatly, "The fact that you all conspired to keep him in hiding so long is a crime in itself. He's an assassin, he's dangerous, and he's a criminal."

"He's my friend," Steve said firmly, "He's a long-standing prisoner of war, he's Hydra's victim every bit as much as Winnie was. He needs help and rehabilitation, not a jail cell and solitary confinement." Fury shook his head.

"Don't get me started on Winnie, Nomad," Fury shot back, getting to his feet, "She's out there somewhere, completely out of control, and dangerous as hell. You should be focused on finding her."

"I will be," Steve spoke angrily, standing up straight, "But she ran for a reason, and she won't be out to hurt people, she doesn't need to be found right now; Bucky does."

"I can't give that information to you, I've told you that," Fury said, getting himself under control, sitting back against the desk he'd been working at, "Let. It. Go."

"I'm asking you one more time to help me," Steve was losing his temper, and wanted to stay cool, but was growing more and more tempted to just clean Fury's clock, "I'm not going to be responsible for everything that follows if you don't see sense now and help me."

"I'm sorry, Captain Rogers, the answer is no," Fury responded. Steve's brow drew down in rage and he couldn't stop the glare from twisting his face.

"Get out," Steve ordered him, his voice flat and hard. Fury stared at him, not reacting, and Steve pointed at the door. "You're not an Avenger, you're not the director, you're not SHIELD, get the hell out of here and don't come back," his voice was thick with rage. Fury straightened suddenly and nodded curtly.

"Fine," he said angrily, pushing past Steve, "I'll be waiting for you when you decide to go after Barnes, because I'm telling you now, he's where he belongs and I can't let you take him."

Fury strode down the hallway, towards the exit, and Steve called after him in a tight voice, "See you then, sir."

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"Sargent Barnes, hello." Bucky turned to the voice and saw Coulson waiting for him on the other side of the force field.

"What do you want?" Bucky asked him, with no preamble. Coulson's eyebrow twitched up and he sat down on the chair outside of Bucky's cell. "Nothing," Coulson replied, "Just here to chat." Bucky sat down on the edge of his bed, staring down at his hands for a moment, before looking back up at Coulson.

"What do you want?" He asked again, his face remaining flat and emotionless. Coulson rearranged himself in his seat a little and then put his hands on his knees.

"If you could walk out of here today, what's your plan?" Coulson asked him. Bucky sat up a little straighter, his own eyebrows raising in disbelief. "Why does that matter?" Bucky said instead. Coulson nodded and waved a hand at him.

"It's a simple question," he told Bucky, "Do you have a plan? A target?"

"A target?" Bucky asked incredulously, "Why would I have a target? What makes you think I wouldn't immediately go after her?"

"I think you know better than that," Coulson said, "I think you know that's the last thing you should do."

Bucky swallowed and looked away. "You think I'm him still, Soldat," he spoke his former title in Russian without thinking. Coulson stared at him, his gaze inflexible. "Are you?" He asked bluntly. Bucky got to his feet and turned away.

"No," he answered quietly. He heard Coulson clear his throat and reluctantly turned back to face him. "Who are you, then?" Coulson asked him, "This Soldat? Sargent Barnes? An Avenger?"

"Nothing," Bucky answered unwillingly, "I'm none of those things." Coulson nodded as if that made sense.

"What do you want?" Coulson asked him this time. Bucky met the man's placid gaze and didn't look away this time.

"To extinguish Hydra, to set her free," he said quietly, but with all the conviction he felt burning his stomach.

"Then we have a common goal," Coulson informed him briskly, climbing to his feet. Bucky took an involuntary step towards the force field.

"What?" Bucky said haltingly, not sure how to ask what he was thinking. Coulson turned away from him, towards the small screen on the pedestal that sat just to the left of the chair, and tapped lightly at a few things on the screen.

There was a slight frisson to the air and Bucky felt rather than saw the force field drop. He didn't move, not sure what this meant. Coulson turned to him and waved a hand in a sweeping motion out towards the room he stood in.

"Let's get you suited up and then out of here," Coulson told him shortly, "You have things you need to do, and I'm eager to see them done."

Bucky walked out stiffly, following Coulson up the stairs, wondering if this was a trick. He was led to a small room down a few corridors, and he hesitantly entered, wondering if he was being locked up somewhere new. His gear, the Soldier's gear, waited on a table for him. He waited until the door to the little room closed before getting changed. He found weapons waiting on another table, to fill the holsters and straps and sheaths. Opening the door when he was done, he found Coulson and Agent May waiting for him.

"This way," she said shortly. Coulson didn't follow, and Bucky paused, turning to him and squinting slightly, not sure if he should goodbye or thank you. "Good luck," Coulson told him, before turning on his heel and striding away. Bucky stared after him, slightly dumb founded, before turning to May.

"Come on," she said brusquely. He nodded and followed. They walked through a short hallway, before she opened a hatch in the floor, climbing the ladder that led down below. "Close it after yourself," she ordered him when she reached the bottom. He did as he was told, and looked around when he touched down next to her. They were in a dark tunnel and May snapped on a flashlight.

"This way," she said again. He assumed she was not much for conversation, which was odd considering how much she had annoyed him earlier with her incessant patter and questions. They walked in silence. It felt like they were walking forever. He couldn't complain, this was better than his cell. Eventually the tunnel ended and May reached for something in the wall, clicking and snapping sounding from whatever she was doing.

He was nearly blinded by the sunlight that streamed in through the door that suddenly swung open. He looked out, and they were surrounding by rocks, hills, and scrubby brush. "Where is this?" He asked her. She simply stared at him and waved him out.

"He trusts you to do the right thing," May said instead of answering, "Do what you do best. Stop them." Bucky stared at her and then turned to look around the landscape he was in again. Without a word he began to walk away.

"Barnes," she called out after him a moment later and he paused to look back, shielding his eyes with his hand.

"What?"

"Don't go after her, no matter how much you want to, she's made her choice," May warned him.

"Not until it's finished," he replied, "Not until it's done." She nodded curtly, "Good." May immediately closed the door and he watched as the door shimmered, as his force field had, and then disappeared. He stared at the place where it had been for a long moment, before turning around and striding out into the vast, desolate area around him.

"Not until it's finished."

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"What do you mean 'he's not here anymore'?" Fury asked sharply, leaning down on his fists on Coulson's desk. Phil regarded him calmly.

"He's gone, he has better things to do," Phil said easily. Fury took a deep breath and then levelled his glare on Phil. "Why?" Fury demanded, "That man was a criminal. Not just any criminal, but a prolific, consistent, Hydra criminal."

"That man, was not the same man," Phil told him harshly, "You know that as well as I do. I don't need to explain to you what he was, what was done to him, but let's just say I can sympathize with someone who's been extensively experimented on, turned into something he's not supposed to be, against his will."

Fury stood up and stepped away, turning to the window, considering Coulson's words. "Phil," he began, but Coulson interrupted him. "No – he's going off to do what we should have been doing all this time, he's going after Hydra, and to him it's more personal, on more levels, than for anyone else," Phil walked around his desk, still speaking in a fierce tone of voice, "He can accomplish what we can't, what we wouldn't, what we didn't. He can do this, and he's driven. He's not a criminal, and he's not my prisoner."

Phil walked up to stand next to him, not looking over. "If you want to bring Barnes in, you'll have to find someone else to work with," Phil spoke quietly, but with a firmness to his voice that Fury had to respect.

"Fine, we've got bigger fish to fry, don't we – how's your agent doing? The one exposed to the alien device?" Fury turned to him, and watched Phil's expression move into the more professional one he typically wore when addressing Fury. As the man explained the situation to him, Fury thought about Captain Rogers. I need to tell him Barnes is free, before he comes looking.

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Steve flung the cell phone to his bed with a growl. He believed Fury, he did, but he had been relishing the moment he could be reunited with his friend. Finding out that Bucky was going off to attempt to single-handedly take down Hydra, was disheartening. I still need to find him, Steve thought earnestly, he could help us.

The rest of the group was being pulled into a search for a very specific Hydra nest. Thor had shown up again, driven to find Loki's staff, which the rest of them had mistakenly assumed had gone back to Asgard with him and Loki. Turns out SHIELD took it, which meant Hydra had it now. Steve struggled with himself for a moment. He longed to find his friends, having them lost, separated, was painful to him, the ache in his chest a constant reminder of how he'd failed them both, again.

"Steve." He turned to Sam's voice and found his friend leaning against the door. "He's gone, right?" Sam asked him. Steve nodded. "You were listening?" He commented. Sam shrugged. "Yeah, but he's not locked up anymore, right?"

Steve nodded, distracted by his thoughts again. Sam waved a hand in his field of vision. "So?" Sam asked him impatiently.

"So what?" Steve replied. Sam smiled slightly. "So when are we going after him?" He clarified. Steve smiled at him, a plan forming in his mind. "The rest of them are going after Hydra, after that staff," Steve told him, "That staff is dangerous in the wrong hands, it could hurt a lot of people." Sam nodded at him to continue.

"I have a duty, a job, to help them find it, I can't let more people get hurt because of it," Steve said.

"You want me to look for him," Sam stated, a smirk on his face. Steve nodded. "I'll be there, to help when I can," Steve assured him.

"And Winnie?" Sam asked, "Am I looking for her?" Steve paused, thinking about Natasha's recent return to their facility under the dam, her angry silence when he'd asked her if she'd found Winnie, found any leads. "No," Steve finally replied, "Winnie wants to stay hidden, and that's probably best for now, don't you think?"

Sam sighed and looked away. "You don't think he'll go to her?" His friend asked the question as if he expected the answer to be yes.

"Bucky knows better," Steve stated slowly, "Winnie needs to stay away from us all, we make her weak." Sam grimaced and looked down at his feet for a moment. Steve continued, "Bucky is the only one we can help." Sam crossed his arms over his chest and nodded curtly.

"I'll start now."

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The night was peaceful. When the sun set, it seemed to bring a veil of silence with it, and the entire town grew quiet and subdued. With the balcony door open, the warm breeze from the water that lapped at the piers below flowed easily inside, suffusing the air with its salty aroma. The curtains, light and gauzy, fluttered sleepily on either side of the open doors, their ends tickling the tile floor lightly.

Winnie wrapped her arms around herself as she leaned against the gently ornate black railing. She wasn't cold, but she shuddered a little anyways with a long sigh. She finally felt restful. She felt certain she wouldn't able to stay in this lovely seaside villa for long, but for now, it was quiet, and it was peaceful. The breeze fluttered through her hair and she reached up to grab the loose bit of it, pausing when she caught site of the pale, blonde strands of it.

She tucked the wayward strand behind her ear and took another deep breath, letting the calming scents from outside fill her lungs. Dying her hair had been the first thing she'd done once she was thinking clearly again. Escaping Puerto Rico, getting away from her people, from her enemies, had been desperately hard for her. She had been wrapped up in a cocoon of her own misery. It hadn't helped that she'd had to run down street after street of destruction and suffering. She couldn't avoid it though.

This is all your fault, she'd thought in an endless mental chant, passing the wounded, the dead, the dying. The further from the city she got, the easier it was, though the things she had seen would haunt her always. You are a monster. A murderer. She'd had to steal a car to get to another area on the island nation. Then she'd stolen a boat. She had no idea how to drive a boat, and it had been a terrifying voyage, though thankfully the craft had a GPS on it that led her to Florida.

Getting past the Coast Guard had been proven nearly impossible, and she'd finally had to use her power to sink their boats. On land, they'd chased her. The destruction she left in the wake of her escape was horrifying. 24 hours after that, she was in a dingy motel room, just outside Disney World, bleaching her hair with at-home kits, until she was sure it would fall out. It didn't, but she was left with hair so pale blonde that she startled herself for days whenever she caught a look in a mirror.

After that, it was an endless stream of running and hiding. She found herself, on more than one occasion, cursing modern technology, knowing that cameras everywhere were capturing her image. She took to wearing heavy make-up, glasses, and wearing clothing that either made her look heavier than she was, or wearing skimpy modern clothing that left her with a constant blush on her face.

Anything to be unrecognizable. She wasn't like Natasha though. She had no idea how to get out of the States. She had no idea how to obtain fake IDs. She instead used her ability to sneak onto a cruise ship, dipping into the brains of the staff she encountered to make them forget or ignore her, worrying all the while that she was giving them lasting brain damage.

She reached Europe, though, and that was her goal. She knew on this continent there were many and more places to hide, much more than back home, and she had the option to escape to Asia or Africa, if she needed it. Instead, she made her way across the continent, stealing a lot of cars, stealing a lot of money. She made it to Italy, found herself a relatively quiet, slightly run-down sea-side town. A place where a tourist or visitor wouldn't make a scene, but where there were still not too many people milling about.

Winnie stared out at the water, watching the moon reflect back off the surface of it. She felt like she could stay here a while and regroup. Get her wits back. Take a breath. She turned away from the water and went back inside. The bedroom was directly within and she pulled off the sundress she wore, laying on the bed in her underthings. It was warm, and she was tired.

I hate this. I hate myself. Her mental chastising began for the evening, and she allowed her mind to rip her apart for a while until she succumbed to tears, burying her face in a pillow as she sobbed. Her heart hurt. She wanted Bucky there with her more than anything. The fact that it was her who kept them apart this time, sickened her. She missed Steve. She missed friends. She was not enjoying being alone. Winnie lifted her head, surveying the room. Not a single thing in it was levitating, despite her mental upset, despite her sobbing.

I should be impressed, she thought wryly, flopping over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling above. Ever since that day with Reinhardt, the day she relinquished all her fear of herself, the day she tore down all of her mental barriers and accepted her ability wholly, she had gained complete and utter control of it. It was a relief in a sense. She knew now that she'd been foolish to hold herself back, that she made herself more dangerous in doing so, but she also knew that she'd give anything to go back to her life, lack of control and all.

"Bucky," she murmured, bringing both her hands up to wipe beneath her eyes, brushing away the wetness of her tears. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to envision his smile, tried to picture him laughing, tried to see his face. She couldn't remember anything pleasant very vividly; she wasn't done torturing herself with the image of him injured and screaming for her as she turned her back on him and ran away. Monster.

Winnie knew, as it had before, that the world would forget about her as a person, and she would become a story, a character, just a blurry figure out of a history book. She prayed Hydra and SHIELD would forget her as well. She wanted everyone to move on and let her be. That included Steve. She hoped he could see the sense in what she'd done. Why she'd done it. Bucky and Steve knew her better than any people on the planet, dead or alive, and she fervently hoped they'd understand her motivations. Understand her decision. Understand that being happy and being with them, put everyone in danger.

She allowed herself to imagine a world where Hydra was destroyed, where their threat was lifted and they were gone, another part of history, finished and closed. In that world, she found Bucky again, and they were happy. Winnie allowed herself to fall asleep imagining an impossible future.

She couldn't think of Bucky without crying during her wakeful moments, but asleep, she might be able to see him in her dreams, and if she was lucky, on a good night, her dreams were good ones and they were together again. Happy again.

Shifting on her pillow, Winnie slept, her blonde hair fanned out around her head like a halo. After a while, her eyelids fluttered and she sighed as a dream overtook her. A small smile curled at the corner of her lips. It was a good night.

This won't be the end of the line for these guys – I have another, Age of Ultron-ish, sequel up now (its in progress), called No Strings To Hold Me Down - Look for it on my profile! You guys, I'm so incredibly grateful for the handful of you who have followed this set of fics from the beginning until now – I appreciate you! ***