Captain America: Civil War (Charlotte Stark)

Ch. 4 Bucharest

Using the information from the file Sharon had given him, Steve and I found Bucky's apartment. We got in with no trouble and moved quietly through it, in full Captain America and Iron Widow uniform. Steve gripped his shield close. So this was where Bucky lived now. An ordinary place. Small, but ordinary. We started to search it, looking for hints about Bucky. Who was he now? Still the Winter Soldier? Bucky Barnes again? Or something in between? Brainwashing like Bucky's had long-term effects even after it was broken. I found a book on top of the refrigerator and opened it.

Looking back at me was a photograph of Steve, and another photograph of me.

"Heads up, guys," Sam said in his ear. He was standing lookout on a nearby rooftop. "German special forces approaching from the south."

"Understood." Steve felt a presence in the room with us and turned. I did so too.

Bucky Barnes moved into the room, staring at us.
For a long moment, Steve and I weren't sure what to say. We had more questions than we would ever be able to ask. Finally, I settled on one. "Do you know us?"

"You're Steve," Bucky said. "I read about you in a museum." Then he looked to me. "And you're Charlotte. Charlotte Stark. From the papers."

"They've set the perimeter," Sam said in our ears.

I put the book on the kitchen table and Steve started to speak. "I know you're nervous. And you have plenty of reason to be. But you're lying." The pictures told us that Bucky remembered us, and not just from the museum or the papers.

"I wasn't in Vienna. I don't do that anymore."

Steve and I believed him, but he wanted to be sure.

"They're entering the building," Sam warned. He was starting to sound tense.

"Well, the people who think you did are coming here now," I said to Bucky. "And they're not planning on taking you alive."

Bucky's voice was quiet. "That's smart. Good strategy."

"They're on the roof. I'm compromised." Now Sam sounded really worried.

"This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck." Steve didn't want anyone to get hurt. Not Bucky, not the cops, not me. They might have been the best counterterrorism force in recent memory, but they wouldn't be any match for the Winter Soldier.

Bucky looked down at his metal hand. "It always ends in a fight," he said sadly.

"Five seconds," Sam said.

"You pulled me from the river," Steve said. He could hear footsteps pounding on the building stairs. "Why?"

"I don't know," Bucky said.

"Three seconds!" Sam was shouting now.

"Yes, you do," Steve insisted. Bucky was scared—we could see that. He wasn't scared of Steve or I, or any special forces team. He was scared of himself, because he knew what he could do. But Steve and I needed Bucky to see himself as a human being, not just the Winter Soldier.

Too late.

"Breach! Breach!"

As Sam called out that last warning, two flash-bang grenades crashed through the apartment's windows. Steve batted one back out the window with his shield. The other landed at Bucky's feet. He kicked it toward Steve, who slammed his shield down over it. The explosion jarred his arm, but the shield contained it.

A split second later, the special forces team smashed in the front door. More of them swung in through the windows on rappelling lines, opening fire with submachine guns. Steve and I deflected the bullets and did our best to take the soldiers down without hurting them. Bucky went after them, too, hitting hard but not getting carried away just yet.