Infinity | B. Barnes

Antman?

The loud whirring of helicopters echoed around the empty, old building. Searching the streets of Berlin for the missing fugitives. For the four of us. I never would have guessed that I would become a criminal, it's definitely not how I planned on my week going.

There were gaps in the roof and walls, letting a draft in. I could see the faint shape of the chopper flying past, I could only hope that they weren't able to see us. The metal was rusty and the paint was mostly chipped away. But it was keeping us safe, so the look of the building didn't matter.

"Ouch!" I exclaimed due to the sudden contact with my wrist. I shot a glare at Steve who was holding my arm, but he ignored me, knowing that I meant nothing by the hostile expression. I glanced down at my right arm and winced at the massive hand shaped bruise.

"Sorry, sorry," Steve muttered quietly, wrapping a bandage tightly around my arm. I winced again and yelped quietly. "It's probably just a sprain. But we can't know without going to the hospital."

"And we can't go to the hospital without getting arrested. Yeah, I know." I replied. I just really hope that Steve is right about it being a sprain.

Once the bandage was securely fastened around my wrist, Steve stood up and made his way across the room, glancing out a hole in the wall as another helicopter flew by. Still searching for us. I don't think they will ever stop.

"Hey, Cap!" Sam called out to him, Steve and I both glanced over in his direction. Steve quickly made his way over to him. I stood up from the wooden crate I had been perched on and followed after him

I walked around the corner into the other room and saw Bucky slowly starting to stir. He groaned in pain as he gained consciousness. He was sitting on a crate with his metal arm trapped in a clamp, just in case.

Instantly, I could feel the difference in Bucky. His mind felt the same way it did the first time they had met. Not like how he felt before when he was trying to kill us all. I felt my muscles relax slightly at that, hoping that whatever had come over him was now gone.

"Steve," he said quietly, there was a hint of gratitude in his voice at the sound of his friend.

"Which Bucky am I talking to?" Steve asked him.

"Your mom's name was Sarah," he said. He then started to chuckle lightly "you used to wear newspapers in your shoes."

"Can't read that in a museum." steve replied

"Just like that, we're supposed to be cool?" Sam asked sceptically

"What did I do?" Bucky asked dejectedly. He didn't remember what had happened.

"Enough." steve replied

Bucky sighed "oh, god, I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words." Bucky looked angry, guilty and in pain. I felt my heart ache for the man. He didn't deserve any of this, I could see the pain in his eyes and that alone made me want to cry for him. When you really think about it, I only understand a quarter of his pain.

"Who was he?" steve asked

"I don't know," Bucky responded

"People are dead. The bombing, the set-up...the doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than I don't know." steve answered

"Steve...he doesn't know any more than we do. We're all in the dark about this." I said gently to him.

Bucky paused for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think of anything he could remember. "He wanted to know about Siberia...where I was kept," Bucky said. My expression saddened even more as I listened to his words.