{33}

He wasn't aware of his barred surroundings. The cage that housed him was small, and the rank of a musty blanket draped over the bars created unease in his stomach. He could not feel rhythms of movement, so it seemed likely that he was not in a vehicle, or at the very least not in active transport. Very distant rumors of sound met his pointed ears, but he could not disentangle them to help him build a rational idea of his situation. He would have to assess his actions when things began to happen.

Steve felt a pulse of conviction drumming rapidly in his heart, thunderous pounding that rushed to his ears. It was a cadence that he once resisted not to accept; he remembered the pressure of his studded fangs penetrated deeper into flesh. The operative's muscles tensed as rivets of blood leaked through ripped Kevlar ensnared in his merciless bite.

He had discarded all his emotions-humanity- and became dominated by the rabid and relentless beast that HYDRA's curse forged him into. The shield inside the darkness of the safe house was decaying into an infectious rust; it almost matched his gradual devolution into a full canine.

The noxious presence of HYDRA was near. In seconds of registering the ebbing stiffness overtaking his canine body, his ears twitched to an encroaching disturbance of heavy combat boots crunching in the snow. Each vibration carried sadistic arrogance as Steve intently listened to a muffled voice dragging out spite. "Comfortable in there, fleabag?"

A tactical boot rammed into the bars, jolting Steve's bones with a quick tremor of intrusive pain. All the husky could register through a feverish haze was a garnished smear of white paint that formed a crossbones symbol on a black metallic helmet. The mercenary was familiar, at least his voice. Almost sounded like the distinct and brutal edge of Brock Rumlow. "I'm gonna really enjoy this...No shield to hide under. I guess this isn't your lucky day, Cap."

If Rumlow's taunts had been intended to reduce him, they weren't gaining the HYDRA mercenary pleasure of submission. Clenching his long muzzle, Steve displayed his defiance in a low rumble of a growl. "I don't need luck," his throat ached as he glared levelly back at Rumlow, his blue eyes became smoldering embers of steel. The coarse blond fur of his drenched coat bristled as the serum overpowered his steady pulse."I never have."

As his demented adversary bellowed out a laugh, Rumlow delivered another firm kick at bars, but Steve didn't relent against the mercenary's provoking threat. He tried to think of what he should be doing. But really, there wasn't much he could accomplish while he was trapped behind bars durable than him. On the other hand, if his enemy was targeting to kill him and Sam, perhaps he could be led to opening the latch. Even a hopeless fight sounded better than being a caged dog.

"I guess it's easy to be confident when you're safely out of harm's way," Steve ventured as casually as he could, holding the mercenary's vicious gleam in his unfaltering gaze of hardened blue."You're not afraid of an old, worn out Brooklyn mutt, are you?" It felt like a pretty futile attempt, but Steve knew he had to try something while he still had his own defiance on his side.

Under the steel painted face plate, Rumlow's marred lips twitched into a lewd grin. He detected Steve's play. "You think you've got the right ground here, Cap?" he teased in a warped seethe, and then eased his weight down to his haunches, leveling his concealed dark eyes at the challenging canine. His hand lifted, as a metal blade retracted from a wrist gauntlet-a new weapon for his inhuman tactics. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to make you bleed, Cap. How is your pal Bucky by the way, still tryin' screeching out his memories?"

"You couldn't keep them hidden from him forever," Steve answered, his voice as steady as he could manage. "You never owned him, and you have lost your grip now. He's beaten you." Steve wasn't sure he liked the fact that Bucky was the subject of the conversation as it might lead to his friend being endangered. But the thought of letting Rumlow boast like a victor over Bucky's honor was not something the Captain was willing to let go. Rumlow was a bully, and Steve had never liked bullies much.

"Maybe instead of putting his mind in a blender, I'll just put the whole cat."

Just as those degrading words breached his heart, Steve rose above the onslaught of agony, the enchantment in stride. He reclaimed his humanity. Rumlow was an avatar of HYDRA's will, a voice used to obstruct hope. Steve wouldn't allow it to break him, not when he felt every surge of Brooklyn defiance pulsing through him, the strength that never yielding when mercy wasn't granted.

Steve felt his blood rushing faster, tearing through his veins as though laced with fire. A low growl emitted from his curled lips, and he lashed his paw towards his adversary out of pure rage and primal instinct. The blow was incapable of hitting Rumlow, but the sudden movement did cause the HYDRA agent to jolt back slightly.

"I guess you can't save everyone, Cap," he derided out coldly. His marred lips twisted into a dervish sneer. He raised his hand with a slow drag of the metal spike across the bars, presenting his intended wrath; giving Steve no choice to escape as the edge of his retractable weapon grazed over the canine's furred paw. He wanted to dominate over Steve by making blood drip out of a opened gauge he was prepared to carve out in those seconds he watched the canine recoil back.

With limited possession of his humanity, Steve knew that it was a thinned line to cross, one sense of doubt would bring harm to his friend. He needed to become battle- focus, with steeled determination as his blood was pumping at full momentum. It was time to prove that he was still carrying faith inside. "You really think you're honestly gonna win this fight?" There was still a falter in his graveled voice, as a deep breath fogged against the metal bars of his cage.

He was capable of breaking out but he felt a cold wave of dread rushing over him, as his eyes trained back on Sam. He had to restore to using a brazen attempt of defiance to distract Rumlow's pride while conceived a plan to save his friend's life."I'm not the caged dog here, Rumlow...You've always been leashed in HYDRA's grip and I bet when you're no longer for their use," A blatant smirk curved on his long muzzle."They'll just put you down."

"Put me down?" Rumlow mocked coldly, stepping closer to the cage, provoking the canine with a sneer of unphased disgust. "Your pal has been downgraded. Nothing more than a stray fleabag. I knew you would infect Barnes with that moralistic disease you carry so well, Rogers, when his mind was going high speed in the blender, he screamed out your name until Pierce silenced him, betcha you didn't know that, huh?"

The blood that had been flaming with heat now froze ice-cold in Steve's body, the words piercing him deeply and in a way he couldn't quite place. He felt the fierce pain of sorrow as his mind pictured the scene against his will: his friend being fried into a hollow shell, his last shreds of humanity screaming for the one man who should have been there. He hadn't been there for Bucky when his friend needed him most, whether that was his own fault or not. Steve would have given anything to bring the suffering on himself, but that was not an option laid before him. He could only wallow in the misery of his dearest brother.

Yet after the shock and searing pain of loss and torture had rested upon Steve, he felt a tiny prick of hope warm the ice of his mind. Bucky had been silenced, but he had also proven that his soul survived HYDRA's programming for decade upon decade. They could train him to stop saying things, but they could not conquer him. Rumlow was right: Bucky was infected. But Steve knew that this contamination would be the thing that kept his best friend from becoming a captive to the embrace of death rather than a malady that needed curing.

This wasn't much hope to cling to, but it was enough. Steve took in a slow deep breath as Rumlow waited with a smirk only inches from his face. This operative was trying to break his will, but if he couldn't truly break Bucky, Steve could be strong, too. The canine looked directly into Rumlow's eyes and held his gaze for several seconds before speaking.

"Who's the one who is downgraded? Bucky may suffer great pain and humiliation, but he is not silent anymore. You, on the other hand, remain trapped by HYDRA's brainwashing. I'd sooner be a prisoner in a cage or in a false body than in the lies or HYDRA."

The scarred mercenary lifted his wrist blade directly at bars, the murderous impulse to impale an inch of it within Steve's heart was growing potent to dismiss, regardless of his orders to transport the patriotic canine to Baron Strucker. His lips curled into a malignant scowl, as he held back his contempt and narrowed an empty stare at the smears of blood left in the snow. He recognized the invalidity displayed before him, Steve was injured and those drops of red confirmed impending submission to HYDRA. "It's not just your life that HYDRA craves to shackle down..." He predicted the captain's heartache when he unveiled a harsh revelation to dampened Steve's recalcitrant spirit. "You've got a collection of friends, but the main prize is that old woman you love, what's her name again?"

Peggy...Steve thrashed himself against the bars of the cage without any premeditation. His canine instincts coupled with fear and fury made him into a senseless animal, his barred teeth clashing against the rusty metal enclosure. The pads of his paws pressed hard against the barrier as his claws reached slightly into the open, and he unleashed a deep, vicious growl.

He couldn't think straight, and he had nothing to say. All he felt was the pain, and all he knew to do was physically reject it. So he continued to slam himself against the metal wall of the cage, hoping to catch just a bit of his enemy, though his attempts were in vain. His icy azure eyes gleamed with near madness, and had he been free, his animal inclinations would likely have carried him beyond his own moral standards and led him to tear Rumlow to shreds. As it was, he remained a caged dog, livid with rage but unable to use it.

"I think we're gonna a riot breaking you, Cap," Rumlow sneered wickedly under the steel mask, feeling the pressure of third-degree burns pulsate over his deformed lips. His stance unflinching, as he savored at the sight of the First Avenger's unhinged display, watching Steve's unyielding spirit decay within the vessel of the imprisoned and drooling beast. "You're nothing but a gutless mutt for HYDRA...And your friends will share that reality with you very soon."

Steve had nothing more to do or say than had been said. He took in great draughts of breath, trying in vain to calm himself. He tried to keep himself from thinking about it, but images of his loved ones cursed like he was, destined to a future of humiliation and lost humanity, plagued his consciousness. His stomach, which was already in ineffective shape from his lack of food and injuries, seemed to be doing flips inside him as his levels nausea grew. But the worst part of it all was that he was powerless to stop all this, and he was even an indirect cause of it.

"You're just wasting your time," he finally ground out, trying to turn his mind onto the moment and away from his sickening despair. "Doing all of this will gain you nothing." It wasn't exactly a relevant response, but he needed something to focus his ire and attention towards; otherwise, Rumlow would get what he wanted.

"What makes you think you're gonna win," Rumlow taunted coldly, the gravity of his malice conveyed enough revelation to lance destain through Steve's virile heart. His dark eyes glowed with shades of black onyx as his spiked blade grazed over the bars, in a precise and amusing effort to slice into the resilient canine's furred paw."You've got nothing left, and your pal, Bucko is probably roadkill thanks to my boys...So before you shoot your mouth off, Cap, you gotta think about your friends, I mean those soon to be target practices for HYDRA."

"Think about 'em?" Steve questioned out loud, though he wished he had kept the thought in his head. For Rumlow to say that seemed to imply that perhaps there was a way out for them. His heart thundered against the threats and mockery, but even though Rumlow was the furthest thing from trustworthy, there was the tiniest possibility that a deal was to be offered, and just maybe Steve could find a way to save some of those he loved.

"Cut to the chase, Rumlow," Steve growled, his ear flitting back against the cold sweep of wind. "Even a cat doesn't play with a mouse this long; we both know you have an angle, so let's stop chatting and do business."

Steve's attempt at confidence was all he could muster, but it was definitely a false display. What were the chances that at, in the event of an offer, Steve could actually agree to any terms with HYDRA? He would not compromise his morals for anything or anyone-even his friends. They would be ashamed of him if he did. He would gladly give his life for them if it was asked of him, but this seemed more complicated than that. Though his mind was less than fully sharp, Cap could think of nothing HYDRA could possibly want from him in any category, sinful or otherwise.

The blade in Rumlow's hand didn't intimidate him, but uncertainty and gray areas of conscience trained his dark eyes on the caged dog, piercing, and savage.

For an extended moment of gathering his vile thoughts, he aspired to douse out the last surge of faith that Steve harbored. "You still think you're the big guy, huh?" he chuckled, evidently amused by the dog's reclaimed defiance. "All I see is just a mutt who can't even save his friend..." He gestured a gauntleted hand to Sam kneeling in the snow with his hands tied back. "So you want to cut to the chase, well, first the bargain goes like this, Cap, you turn yourself over to HYDRA with a fight and your wingman over there won't taste lead."

In reserved silence, Steve cast his dismal eyes to his friend, wanting to call out but knowing that such an action would only end in misery for one or both of them. Sam was definitely not going to escape in his present condition, and since Steve was already captured by HYDRA, it seemed worth it to agree if it meant Sam could get out of the crosshairs alive.

Steve didn't enjoy the succession of the victory, he discarded all primal instincts and darted his focus back to Sam through a feverish haze. His face steeled in those few moments he seized onto humanity. "Sam," he growled out, the depth of his baritone wrenched by untamed rage. He was becoming detached from himself, barely grasping onto humanity as he recoiled away from the wounded operative, alarmed by his unwilled resolve to inflict pain. Rumlow's hollow and senseless laughter confirmed that he slipped off the deep end, crossed a line. "Wh-what did I do?"

At that moment of unrushed tension, Steve froze in harrowing realization. His azure eyes narrowed at the scraps of leather becoming covered by snow. The canine Avenger shook his head, trying to set his emotions in restraint, as he glared up at Rumlow standing poised on the hood of Clint's truck, preparing to execute another order to his strike team while Sam was marked in the crosshairs. A dog couldn't win this fight, but then again he was no ordinary mutt to put into submission, he was from Brooklyn and he had a plan.

"One of us is true to his word," Steve said after a moment of restraint. "One of us is not. I won't comply with you until the condition is carried out. Let him go, and we have a deal. You have my word." Steve paused, glancing dismally again at Sam. "But if anything happens to him," he growled, glaring darkly at Rumlow, "we will see how much damage I can do before you can kill me."

Rumlow receded a step away from the cage, his masked eyes intently traced over the patches of blond fur dissolving as skin became visible in the snowy haze. He could only estimate have much time the super-soldier had to recover his chiseled bulk. How many seconds would it take to inject another sleep agent into Steve's neck? The curse wasn't fully dominant, which gave the HYDRA mercenary an expected revelation that Captain America was returning. How could the soldier be strong enough to fight against dark elements? What if he ordered his men to pull the trigger on Wilson? "Not now..." He seethed.

No..." Sam's raged filled protested wrangled through the air; driven by the choice to yield his life to HYDRA. "Cap...Don't give yourself over."

"Sam, I'm not going to watch you die," Steve strained in a heavy pant, though his words were more of a distraction than a necessity. Of course, they were true, but as the situation became more intense, so did his own canine body. White-hot pain began to flash through his limbs, pulsing like his heartbeat as his stubbed digits began to crack and groan into new positions.

He wasn't sure what it was that was causing what appeared to be a reversal of the enchantment, but he knew he had to capitalize on it while he had it. He focused his mind on all the light he could remember: of the Avengers defeating the invasion in New York, of his own Howling Commandos freeing those under Nazi control, of Peggy's shining, chocolate eyes beckoning him to persevere.

As his thoughts sailed further, Steve concentrated on a single memory-an undying flame, blazing with all emotion and passion against the void within himself, even the coldness of enveloping snow. Contentment restored him. It was an illusion of pure hope; a flicker of ageless light that burned through every shadow of doubt and grief. Flecks of ice rippled in the stillness of his blue eyes. There in the emptiness, he found her, Peggy.

"Is this what you believe yourself to become, Captain?" Her untainted voice spirited through the darkness abstracting his mind. She was a ghost of his conscience, steering him back to solid ground. She was standing close, so reachable that he caught a glimpse of that dangerous flare in her dark eyes. The power of her steeled gaze held unyielding faith in him. She parted her ruby lips, slightly, conveying a sense of restoration in her defining words. "I thought a kid from Brooklyn never backs down from a fight, and yet you're allowing HYDRA to win. Prove that Captain America is more than just his shield, my darling..."

Right at that span of time, while staring into her unyielding depths, Steve found reflections of uncompromised strength. He needed to become Captain America again. Something powerful erupted within him, hot steel dominated the icy possession of HYDRA's will; he felt renewed.

In a violent thrust of his foreleg, he slammed his paw against the metal bar of the cage. His enhanced strength dented the metal hinges and greatly damaged the door, but it was still intact. He quickly cast a stern glance up at Rumlow, who had recoiled partially away and seemed to be digging for something in his vest's pocket. With a revamp of urgency, Steve cried out and thrashed all his weight into the unattached bars, breaking through and attempting to gain his footing."Sam, hold on, I'm getting you out of here."

Within seconds of feeling the coldness nip at his shredding fur, as cords of muscle bulged, Steve fell gracelessly off the truck's platform, landing in the snow with a harsh thud. His paws clenched with a dangerous rush of serum. He rolled onto his stomach, barring his teeth as silver and blue tendrils of intense light slashed through his canine body.

A mass of flesh grew over his white-furred paws and morphed into hands. His fingers were spreading out and created small trenches in the snow. The calling of his strength never felt so effective. He became aware of the mission before him, stowing back no repulse of resistance against the venomous magic.

He became Captain America again. A heartbeat of valor and liberty. It was the very life -blood of the serum. Despite, the prelude of his darkness hour, Steve never ceased to submit to the venomous power of HYDRA. Sam's life was on the line, operatives were lined up to take open fire at Rumlow's command.

'I can do this...' He breathed measuredly and screwed his eyes shut, rivets of hot sweat matted the hard flesh of his expanding torso. In heaving and strained breaths, he allowed the spell to assail when his body glowed with a bluish aura. He felt bones twisting and aligning until all that reminded in the wake of his painful transformation, as his half-naked, chiseled body lying drenched in a charge of momentum, he jumped onto his feet, discarding the reaction to ice slicing into his skin and geared up for his attack.

It appeared that the slew of HYDRA agents with Sam pinned down did not yet have permission to shoot their hostage as no one had fired on him. However, one aimed his weapon towards Steve and fired wildly, missing twice before he finally collected himself together for a leap.

Steve launched forward and let himself slam into the man with the smoking gun, immediately knocking the man out. He then resolved his attention to the man behind Sam, issuing an uncoordinated kick which sent the operative flying backwards. Steve's head swam and his limbs would not quite obey his mind's commands, but he managed to grasp his friend's bonds in human fingers and break them apart.

"Run and don't look back," Steve ordered to Sam, hearing boots behind him and a prick on the back of his neck. He wasn't going to make it out; he knew that. But Sam might. Steve's body began to feel heavier, and his vision began to have dark spots in it. He must have been injected with something. He reached down and grabbed one of the weapons from the beaten foes, thrusting it into Sam's hand.

"Hurry," he bellowed, his speech a bit slurred but still full of resolve.

It was a burst of light that seared through Sam's retinas in the seconds, his blurring gaze settled on the super-solider. Steve was back wearing only the navy blue pants of his uniform, somehow the transformation from dog to man didn't leave him fully uncovered, but the coldness of the air didn't avail. The gun weighed against the clutch of his glove as he took from Steve's grip and dismissed the order. "I'm not leaving you," he declared, breathlessly, voice strained by riddled exhaustion. He wasn't giving up. He valued friendship to the highest regard of sacrifice.

The loss of Riley never obstructed his honor and duty as a soldier, it only strengthened his commitment.

"If you can make it out, then you keep runnin', Cap," He looked into Steve's eyes, the deepest shade of oceanic blue held a gleam of submission. His muted temperament was becoming tested as seconds fleeted, and coldness slowly cruised in his veins. The drive to protect him ungrounded him. Steve needed to hold on."I've got this..."

"Sam, there are people who need you," Steve affirmed stubbornly. "I'm not making it out of here no matter what tactics we use; I'm hit, and I won't be awake much longer. But this way at least you can get away." Steve grabbed his friend's shoulder and clenched it tightly, meeting Sam's gaze. "Please," he said more quietly. "I'll be fine as long as I know that someone is there to protect the others. That's the best thing you can do for me."

Sam wanted to reject the bordering pain against his heart, leaving Steve to stand alone in the fight only slew his hope deeper. The choice he made years back to become a paratrooper charged through him as he felt cornered down with the gravity of Steve's disheartened words, he wanted to save people, march into the gates of the underworld and reignite the existence of salvation. He believed in the virtues and carried them through, but everything presently felt unstable as he stared at the ringleader-Rumlow, murderous contempt only reflected back. He presumed Steve's fate: the inexorable up-shots of defeat.

Frigidly, Sam quirked his lips into a taut grimace, refusing to comply. He steered a hardened glance at Rumlow's daring his reaction with a hollow stare. He didn't want Steve yielding to HYDRA, not alone. "Just like that, you're giving yourself up?" he whispered in deep resonance, seizing the First Avenger's pained stare. "The best thing I can do is haul your heavy Spangled butt out of here, Cap."

Steve fought against the onslaught of pain leeching in his chest, his heart swelled with contracting remorse as his narrowed passive azure orbs gazed at Sam's opened hand. A cast of guilt shadowed over his boyish features as he exchanged a glance with his friend. "Sam," he clenched his jaw, sensing that his time being a human was decaying, and he felt his balance faltering as the weight of his choice to leave Sam pulverize his spirit.

As a mask of pain washed over the chiseled edges of his features, Steve tilted his head, his luminous blue eyes misted with unshed tears. "Forgive me for draggin' you in this with me...It's my own my fault why HYDRA came after you. This isn't your fight anymore. You're done more than enough for me, but I can't lose my wingman,"

Drawing out a tremulous breath, he mounted Sam's shoulder with a firm grip of his deforming hand, the intensity of his eyes began to recede as he accepted the gravity of his infinite decision. "You know there's only one way out of this, Sam," his voice was caught in his throat as he leveled a dismal glare at Sam, apparent to the wavering in his depths."I can't take you down with me..." Time was growing urgent as he felt the thralls of his relentless curse gripping him back into submission.

In seconds of feeling a knife plunge into his heart, Sam watched a contrast of blond fur spread over Steve's bare chest and expanse of solid bulk, as bones jutted and realigned back into the morphic form of the Brooklyn canine. A flash of blinding light ensnared his vision as Sam held into Steve, grounded his thrashing movements into a steady calm as the final vestiges of the transformation merged and amplified until all that prevailed was a beautiful and well-built tawny-blond furred husky tucking his lengthy muzzle into Sam's jacket, whimpering out breaths of unbidden pain.