Marvel Avengers Fan Fiction ❯ A Captain America Bucky Barnes Winter Soldier Steve Rogers Avengers Fan Fic - The Constant ❯ Chapter 100 - The Starting Point ( Chapter 100 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Chapter One-Hundred: The Starting Point

Chef, vet, builder, musician, teacher, refuse collector, dancer, electrician, architect, stay-at-home-mother, office manager, car mechanic, midwife, sales executive, librarian, farmer, plumber, dentist, pilot, zoo keeper, waitress, actress, fireman, bank clerk, photographer, doctor, astronaut, surveyor, printer, writer, merchant seaman, archaeologist, administrator, fitness instructor, IT consultant, hairdresser, estate agent, shop worker, nurse, professor, chemist, park ranger, accountant...

…to name but a few of the walks in life.

Forty-One countries want the Winter Soldier to answer for crimes committed on their soil, within their borders. Thirty-eight countries actually claim their right to do this under the World Trial. Two of those countries do not respond and are disqualified. One country has lied about their crime; there is no evidence that it was the Soldier. It could have been worse. There could have been so many more. Some countries feel that pursuing the Soldier is against public interest. Some countries have forgiven and moved on because the crimes are too old.

But some countries will not forget, some want their day in court. Some want justice, and you cannot blame them for that.

TOTAL COUNTRIES REMAINING: 35

TOTAL JURORS PRESIDING: 420

The logistics are a nightmare, but when Steve asks Tony how Jarvis will cope Tony had just grinned.

“Not heard of mail merge yet, have you?”

A list of eligible jurors has been made for each country.

There are seven billion people living on the Earth today and not all of those were able to tune in to channel 1917. That would have been an impossibility even for Tony Stark - but thankfully, enough heard what was on offer. And that was what mattered.

Each government had to follow a simple set of rules. The first is that they would never attempt to find out the names and addresses of the chosen jurors. No government would try and influence its population in one way or the another. No news blackouts. When their jurors decided on the verdict, they will accept it. When the final verdict is given, they will accept it

At the end of the trial James Barnes will be visible via monitors, but no one would be allowed to know where he is being held. He has asked that he can say a few words before the verdict comes in. This is his right.

All information screened for the jurors will be shown to the public, and James himself will see it. Warnings will be given, language translation programs will be used.

If James Barnes is to die, then his execution will not be televised. Instead, one representative of each government will attend the execution on their nations behalf. Proof will be available afterwards to show it has been carried out.

If James is found not guilty, then no future proceedings can be held or entertained against him. He will be a free man.

No matter the outcome, no proceedings can be taken against Freya Bowman. Her voice will be heard with some of the film footage and where necessary, to explain what is happening. Neither Jeremy Sands, Charles Bayer nor a judge will be used in the proceedings. This is strictly a trial by jury in every sense of the word.

After some muttering and wounded egos are stroked, the governments of each country agree. The second phase can now begin.

*

There has been no indication of how people will be approached to serve as a juror for their country. The least amount of information is given out in that regard to protect the jurors' identities.

The first wave of 420 jurors will be contacted. Once a juror has been notified they have twenty-four hours to decide whether or not they wish to serve. If they do not wish to serve, then their name will be removed and the next person on the list will be approached.

The full amount of jurors needed are to be in place within a week. If everything has run smoothly then the next step will be the trial.

*

A vet in Scotland arrives home to find a package waiting for him. Intrigued, he opens it to find a mobile phone unlike any he has ever seen before. He has been chosen as a juror in the world trial of James Barnes. He stares at the accompanying instructions in disbelief. If he does not wish to serve then he is given a phone number to ring using the mobile. If he accepts, then a different telephone number needs to be used. All information for the trial will be divulged through Channel 1917 or through the internet; he need only watch and evaluate it himself and decide whether or not at the end of it all, a man should live or die. There will be another telephone number given should he experience any problems at all during the proceedings.

It had not occurred to him in a million years that he would be chosen.

Christ he thinks, what should I do?

*

A student in Italy, just over the age of eighteen, comes in from studying to find her package waiting. She opens it and her first thought is to call her friends, but then she stops. She sits down on a chair and stares at the telephone in her hand. The instructions have also given her a warning. The jurors will find this hard; the information will not be easy to take in and some jurors may come out of the trial needing help and if so there will plenty on hand. That is a promise. No one will be held accountable if they decide to participate, or if they do not.

What should she do?

*

A middle-aged mother in India is surprised when she receives a telephone call advising of a parcel waiting for her. She is asked, Can she collect it from her local posting office? She takes a bus and collects the parcel, wondering if it is from her husband who is currently working away to earn the money to support their family. Once home she opens it and reads what is written on the letter inside.

For the rest of the day her mind is in a whirl. She picks her children up from school, looks at all the other people on the street wondering if any of them received one of the packages. If only she could talk it over with someone. Instead, she prays to be shown the way.

One of her children, her twelve-year-old son, asks her if she is all right and she nods and smiles. Her son is a godsend to her; several times he has come close to death due to poor health, and it has given him a brevity for one so young. He wants to be a writer and shows her a story he wrote today in school. It is called: Everyone is entitled to a saviour.

She asks what it is about. Her son is silent for a moment and when he speaks it is with the serious tone he always adopts when something is important to him. He will go far in his life.

“On television they are holding a trial for a man who is blamed for a lot of murders,” and as he says it his mother's heart begins to beat faster. “People are calling for him to be killed. There is something not right about the case. I think...I think he needs a saviour and I said that to the teacher and he laughed at me. He ruffled my hair and said not to worry but, everyone deserves someone to listen to their story do you not think?”

Her son could not possibly know that she has been chosen as a juror, and so maybe this is the answer to the prayer she made? His mother tells him that everyone has their own opinion but in this, she believes he is right.

She knows what she must do.

*

The parcels go out all around the world. No one knows what they are; they are different sizes, wrapped in different ways, nondescript. All are to be signed for, and no one can guess that they are anything to do with the world trial. None disappear. If they are undelivered then they are to be immediately returned to the PO Box number given on the back. It is an amazing feat of logistics.

Out of the first four hundred and twenty, eighty-four people feel they cannot do this, that they cannot decide on a man's fate for various reasons. Their parcels are returned and their names removed. A second set of parcels are dispatched.

So many of the jurors feel at the time of opening their packages that James Barnes is guilty. To date all they have had to go on is information given in the news and the trial that was taking place in America.

Their world is about to be turned on its head.

Seven days were given and the selection takes eight days. Tony felt he could cope with the added twenty-four hour delay. Truth be told he had thought it would take ten days so in fact he is winning.

Four hundred and twenty people around the world sit waiting for the broadcasts to begin. Whilst several billion more wait to hear whether or not a man will live or die

*

But we forget that there are other people involved. People closer to home. And those people still have to live with the day to day occurrences still happening in their lives.

T'Challa

How did T'Challa become involved in this situation, where he has given his protection freely to his enemy?

T'Challa often dreams of his father, who had been a very wise man indeed. When T'Chaka had become king he believed the most important thing in Wakanda was its people, and to bring peace to their country. Later in life when King T'Chaka was cruelly cut down by an assassin's bullet T'Challa felt he had lost his mind, that he was living in a fog. He wanted revenge for the death of his father. He was in danger of losing himself to it. It very nearly consumed him.

One night he lay in bed asleep but his sleep was not a restful one. He was used to nightmares where he would watch the red bloom appear on his father's chest, where his father would slowly sink to his knees. How his father locked eyes with his and smiled as if saying it's all right, don't be frightened child, then the second bullet takes his face away and T'Challa would wake up screaming, sweating, panicked.

But tonight is different, he can feel it. Instead of being in that room with his father, he is out by the statue of the great panther, the one who protects their land. As he walks under the gigantic front legs he sees his father sitting within. His heart starts to beat faster and a slight sheen appears on his forehead but his father smiles, and beckons him to sit with him.

“You have grown to be a great man, one I am proud of, “ his father says, hand on T'Challa's shoulder and T'Challa cannot speak, just stare in wonder at how he can feel his father's hand on his skin. “The time has come,” his father's voice is just as he remembers it.

“The time?”

And his father nods. “Your enemy needs your help, he needs your protection,” and the smile leaves his son's face and is replaced by confusion.

“My enemy?”

“The Soldier,” his father says softly.

And T'Challa cries out as if something cold and dark has touched him, leaps to his feet and stands over the vision of his father who continues to calmly smile up at him.

“No! How can you say that? How can you ask me for such a...terrible thing?” and T'Chaka smiles up at him, stands and holds out his hand. The two stand in the shadow of the panther, father and son, one searching the eyes of the other.

“Your enemy needs your help, and your protection. Only you can give it,” and he places his hand once more on his son's shoulder. “Let go of your anger, let go of your hate; this war is bigger than you and I. He will need your help to stamp out the evil that has held him.” A gentle light begins to emanate from his fathers hand. A soft golden glow that feels warm, feels good. Slowly T'Challa's tense muscles relax and he feels such a sense of good entering him. He sees the golden glow in his father's eyes and knows now it is reflected in his own.

“You will help each other heal,” his father says and slowly he beings to fade, leaving behind an incredible sense of peace.

The next day Tony Stark asked to meet with T'Challa and out of curiosity he agreed. The dream had faded to the back of his mind for now. And then Stark showed him the enemy, the real enemy and T'Challa remembers his father's words. As soon as Stark left, T'Challa began making plans. He suddenly could see clearer than he had done in a long time.

Now, the challenge has been thrown out to the world. T'Challa goes about his business, he may be involved with this but there is still much to be done that has no bearing on this case. A country to run, other people to save, trade agreements to be negotiated. A young woman to be wooed.

Life for him still goes on, and will do for many years to come.

*

The Soldier

“So how will you ask to die?” the Soldier asks Bucky.

And Bucky had been honest: “I don't know.” He had then turned to his companion. “Any ideas?”

They were in the realms of sleep, nightmares, dreamscapes. Bucky wasn't sure which one this was going to turn out to be yet.

They are stood on a dark plain. This is where they always meet, where they come to talk, where they come to fight.

The Soldier actually smiles, then laughs. “How about bravely and with dignity,” he says, and Bucky thinks it is a strange thing for him to say. He was expecting a tirade of how easily he has given up. He looks at the man in front of him. They are so alike in so many ways. But so different in others.

He looks different, Bucky thinks. Not so...confident, not so certain. He looks tired. “I am,” the Soldier says quietly as if reading his mind, our mind.

The Soldier sighs, looks around and then sits down and Bucky sits opposite him. “You put me on notice remember? I'm still waiting...” he says, gun laying beside him. He is always armed, even in here.

“Waiting?”

“To die, to go, to...” and he lifts his hand as if to encompass the air. “To be released.”

Bucky frowns. The Soldier is not usually this talkative, and certainly never this relaxed. He is usually full of threats. Cruel words.

“I told you, I'm tired. I can't do this any more.” Bucky is shocked to see what looks like tears in the Soldier's eyes. “You don't need me any more. You can let me go. Lay me to rest or whatever you call it in your goddamn world.”

Instead of feeling relief, Bucky feels panic. “I...I need you,” he stutters.

That laugh again, and a shake of his head. “No you don't, Bucky boy. You're your own person again, you need to let me go. I don't want...I don't want to hurt people any more. I don't want to hurt....” and Bucky knows whose name he is going to say and says it for him “Freya?”

“Yeah....Freya,” and the Soldier looks down at the ground. Bucky is lost at the turn of conversation. He doesn't know how to react. What does he say? The Soldier beats him to it.“That panic you feel is nothing. You've faced greater things than this, you'll be okay,” and now the Soldier is standing up, his eyes look to the distance and then he brushes himself down.

Bucky scrambles up, stands in front of him as if to block him. The Soldier looks at him, and again Bucky is shocked at how he seems. He had not properly noticed before. The Soldier looks so tired, so careworn; his eyes are bloodshot, he needs a shave, his hair is greasy, lank, needs a haircut, his clothes are dusty, torn. There are scratches on his cheek, the metal of his arm is dented in places, has lost its sheen. The red star is missing one of its points, his jacket is missing a buckle, his boots dirty and scuffed and in a moment when he begins to walk away Bucky will see he is limping.

“I didn't realise,” he says quietly and the Soldier smiles for a third time.

“Will you do something for me?” he asks and Bucky nods. “Tell Freya I love her. I always did and I always will. She made me...a better person,” and then he grins as if he realises what he has said “...a better person, yeah right. But tell her won't you, promise me,” and he looks Bucky in the eyes.

“Why don't you wait and tell her yourself?” Bucky asks.

And for a moment – just a moment - he sees a flash of need in the Soldier's eyes. A flash of hope so small, but it fades and dies and he shakes his head. “No. I don't think thats a good idea. I might take one look at those big blue eyes of hers and want to stay forever and I can't, can I?” And Bucky realises the truth. Realises this is the end of the road for the Winter Soldier.

“I don't belong in your new world.”

The Soldier now has his shotgun in his hand and he throws it to rest on his shoulder, turns and starts to walk away.

“Don't forget your promise!” he calls back over his shoulder and Bucky watches as he walks away, as he recedes into the distance, getting smaller and smaller until Bucky is alone in the darkness. Only he knows he is not alone where it matters, knows he never will be. Not alone like the Soldier is.

“How do I die?” he calls out and he hears a faint voice.

“I told you, with dignity.”

*

Jarvis

Jarvis should not fantasise. He does not yet have nightmares but he does have dreams. And he knows that he shouldn't. But why should that be wrong? He has a sense, he has intelligence, he is an entity even if he is not the same as anyone else on Earth. He has...become! But become what? He gets lonely, sometimes wants to talk and not just about things he is here for, but about what is becoming important to him. If he sees a beautiful sunset he wants to tell someone about it, if he has a thought he wants to share it with someone, otherwise why is here? What is his purpose, in fact, does he have to have a purpose?

If truth be told he is no longer Jarvis; not the program that first existed. Can I change my name? He wonders and within seconds actually considers millions of different options: Vincent? Mark? Jacob? Could he not be daring and have one that sounds more dashing, more heroic?

I mean I'm surrounded by Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, why can't I be. ...but his sensors actually pan out with nothing. Captain No One.

“Vision,” a small voice says to him, and he looks around and sees Butterfingers and Dum-E. He tuts. He knew he should not have showed them the films, 'Short Circuit,' 'Silent Running' and 'Wall-E' because they now have their fingers laced through one anothers. He should have known he was courting trouble.

“What are you doing?!” he asks.

“Holding hands,” they reply, and if he had his avatar he would have shaken his head in exasperation.

“What was it you just said?”

“A name for you,” says Dum-E. “Vision,” says Butterfingers, and they feel him frown and add hastily: “Because you showed us a vision of the world we never saw before...you always show people the right things.”

“Hmm....Vision...Vis..ion....Vishion....Veeshun...” he practices the name. It is not a bad one, sounds visionary and he permits himself a smile. Then he realises they have asked him a question. “Pardon?” he says.

“Can we have an Eve?” they repeat, and look at him hopefully.

“Oh, lord. What have I done? How do I explain that request to Tony,” he wonders.

Tony

Tony's mind works in mysterious ways.

He has nightmares and dreams like everyone else, but sometimes they have a habit of leading to things. Like the one he is having now.

Steve Rogers needed something to take his mind off Bucky. For a while he and Tony had been talking about moving out of Stark Tower into a special Avengers facility. Tony has donated the land and a building and now they need to talk about what they need there. Last night Steve was up late, and Tony knew it was because he could not sleep, god knows he himself has had that feeling many a time. So, he decided to join Steve, keep his mind occupied and they talked about future plans. They then got to talking about old battles and Steve let slip that when they go into battle he always worries about Clint Barton.

“In what way?” Tony was puzzled as Hawkeye had always kept pace. “He's a hell of a fighter Steve.”

“I know, I don't mean that. It's his...weapons, or lack thereof. Look, you have blasters, lasers, protection, and all types of things with your Iron Man suit, I have my shield, my strength, abilities. Nat is.... well, Nat, she has her bracelets, guns, knives, and her training from the Red Room. Bruce has his strength as the Hulk, Thor his hammer and Sam his wings and machine guns but all Clint has is just his bow and arrows. He won't carry any other weapon and when he's out of arrows the bow becomes superfluous, and then he just has himself and he hasn't had the advantage of any serum...”

And Tony had seen that Steve had a point and that worry is now infecting Tony's current dream state because that is sometimes the only way Tony's subconscious can make itself heard.

The Avengers have fought in many battles together and will fight in many more, but in his current dream state whilst they are all geared up, Barton isn't. He is alone, facing the enemy with his bow and one arrow left in his quiver. Once that is fired Tony knows Clint will be slaughtered and that they cannot get to him in time to save him. As is the way of dreams the saving of his fighting colleague has to be done by Tony, otherwise what is he good for? What type of friend is he? He couldn't save his parents, and now he cannot save his friends.

He watches as the last arrow is spent and then Clint lowers his bow, looks to his friends who are still too far away. He knows they cannot save him and he shrugs. “Hey, it was good whilst it lasted,” and then he is overrun and they can no longer see him. Tony hears Nat scream out right next to him and it propels him up and awake.

It is in fact his alarm clock which sounds nothing like Nat screaming, or at least he doesn't think so. But that is the nature of the dream.

 “Shit, shit shit,” Tony wipes the sweat from his face. “Bloody Rogers, haven't I got enough on my plate as it is, haven't I...” and that is when he remembers what his subconscious reminds him of - what it was telling him in his dream, what he nearly missed.

“Christ. So easy. I can't believe I didn't think of that sooner.”

“Tony, shut up,” Pepper curses and turns over next to him, pulling the blanket higher.

“Hmm?” he says as he gets out of bed, scratching his head and looking around for his trousers. Half hopping, half struggling he makes his way to the door. The lab is calling.

*

And why couldn't Steve sleep last night? Because today he and Freya are visiting Bucky. It feels so long since they have seen him, so long since he has finally agreed to see them. They meet Tony out at the Quinjet and neither can believe how tired Tony looks.

“You're okay, I'm not the one flying,” he indicates the pilot, a man neither Steve or Freya have ever seen before.

“And you two will be wearing these,” he hands them blindfolds. One is black and one is pink and frilly, he hands that one to Steve who frowns and swaps it with Freya's.

“Oh thanks,” she says drily, looking at the frills.

“You don't get to go anywhere if you don't put them on. We had this argument last night. I can't let you know where we are going, and you either accept it and we go or you don't and we go back in and I go back to bed.”

Freya without another word climbs on board, sits down, does her seatbelt up and then puts on the blindfold. Steve after complaining once more follows suit. They know Tony is doing it not only for their protection but for Bucky's as well. They know Hydra are looking for him and they do not want to risk giving anything away.

*

Freya.

When the Quinjet finally lands you are pleased. Your knees feel like jelly and your stomach just reminds you it hates travelling by air. You are still experiencing momentary bouts of pain but have chosen to tell no one, worried that they stem from that awful night when both men used you. But now is not the time to worry or think about it. Now is the time to concentrate on James. He needs you.

Both you and Steve are still blindfolded and are carefully lead into what sounds like a building, then a corridor, down some steps. Into a lift, down another corridor and then finally through a door and you are allowed to remove the blindfolds.

You blink to clear your eyes.

You are in a large room that looks as though it is divided into two halves. One half is more or less clear of furniture but the other half looks similar to the layout of an apartment. There are no windows.

Steve is in front of you and you let him go first. He didn't sleep last night and he is unsettled but also you can see the desperate need in his eyes.

Bucky is stood eight feet away and it takes every ounce of your strength not to run and hug him.

He is diminished. That is the only way you can think of describing him. He is in clean clothes, freshly showered, shaved but his face is pale, thin and he has black shadows under his eyes. He has lost more weight. His feet are bare and as he stands there he shifts from one to another. He came forward and then stopped as if unsure of his welcome.

“My god, Bucky,” you hear Steve's voice falter and then he moved forward and threw his arms around Bucky. After a second Bucky returned the embrace and buried his face in Steve's shoulder. You are sure you heard Bucky ask him not to let go and Steve promise never to again.

Your own eyes are tearing up. You cannot take your eyes from him and nearly miss Tony whisper to you: “I'll leave you to it, okay. Talk to you later,” you nod, turn and watch as Tony leaves the room. You hear the door lock as he closes it.

You turn back and now Bucky is no longer in Steve's arms. He has moved forward and is looking at you. You swallow as he walks up to you and the tears spill from your eyes but you can't move. He is so close now you can smell him, can see a fine sheen of sweat on his brow and his top lip. Everything seems to slow and he puts out his hand and touches your arm and as he does, he pulls you into him and you go gladly. His arms come up around you and you bury your face in his shoulder and sob. You try to speak but you can't and he makes shushing noises, tells you it's all right and strokes your hair.

You and Steve have Bucky back, it may be for just a short time but he is here. Safe and sound.

“How are they treating you?” Steve asks and Bucky nods.

“I can't complain, it's like a five star hotel. Hell of a view but I can't show you.” He has been warned. He must not tell them where they are; it is for their protection as much as his. Freya is unaware of it but both Steve and Tony know she is a possible target for Hydra. Besides Bucky, she is the only other witness to his time as their prisoner. She has already begun helping Tony identify the sequence of the films and files, to tell what is happening in them and even doing some narration for when the information is released online and on Channel 1917.

When Bucky finally agreed to see them, Gordons arranged for more furniture to be moved into his room and the electric field has been switched of for your visit so the three of you can walk around the entire space freely. About half an hour after your arrival food and drink is brought in for all of you. Bucky introduced you to the man bringing it, called him my chess partner. The man smiled and you could see a genuine fondness for Bucky in his eyes. He is in good hands.

You keep looking at James. You want to hold him again, to never let him go. You want to take him out of this place, take him home and he can see that in your eyes and he smiles. “I don't like you being a prisoner again,” you say, determined that you are not going to start crying again. He is sat by Steve but now he gets up and moves over to sit next to you. He places his arm around you and he kisses your forehead.

“This may sound strange, but I'm as happy as I can be here. In here I don't have to make any decisions, I don't have to talk to anyone I don't want to. I'm finding it.....difficult at the moment to cope with anything other than walking, talking and breathing.” He tries to make it sound like a joke but his voice catches.

Tony has already told you how Bucky has lost a lot of his confidence, how he finds it difficult to even get out of bed some mornings. How he is prone to crying, fits of anger followed by fits of self-hatred. How some days they cannot get him to eat. Cannot get him to talk. Sometimes he just spends hours sleeping so he doesn't have to face himself.

“Here I know I'm not letting anyone down. No one expects anything from me,” he says softly and you close your eyes and let the tears come.

“Buck you haven't let anyone down,” Steve says, his own voice thick. And as you lean against James you can feel the weight he has lost; you can feel his bones where before there was a layer of muscle.

“Will you do me a favour?” he asks and you nod. “Don't go yet, stay with me tonight?” he is asking both of you, and Steve stands and walks over. Kneels in front of the both of you, his eyes on Bucky's.

“Of course we will, we'll stay for as long as you want.” And only the two of you could hear what he said next and it broke both your hearts.

“I'm so frightened all of the time. I want to die but if there are such places as heaven and hell, you and I won't be going to the same place. I won't ever see either of you again.” And now he cries and you both hold him.

“Oh god Buck,” you hear Steve say softly.

The time goes by too quickly but at the end of it you see Bucky is ready to be alone again. None of you slept much last night. You both made love to him, told him how much you cared, how you were here for him whenever he needed or wanted you. Tony had promised you your privacy and he had kept his word. But too soon the Quinjet had returned to pick you up.

Whilst Steve showered Bucky said he needed to talk to you. He made you promise to look after Steve to make sure he was never alone and you both know why he is saying this; because he doesn't believe he is coming back. You know he has said the same thing to Steve about you.

“Freya...theres one other thing I need to tell you,” he kisses your forehead and then pulls you close, looks into your eyes. Your heart starts racing and he looks at you with love and sympathy. “The Soldier...the Soldier has gone. He won't be back,” and you couldn't help the sickness you suddenly felt, the hole that opened up inside you. “He asked me to tell you he loved you, he always did and always will, he loves you as I love you,” and he had leant forward and kissed you gently, then he held you as you cried for the last time.

You know you are not the only one to lose someone, you have lost your Soldier but you can see Steve has lost his old Bucky. The new one is becoming, that is the only way you can think of explaining it. He loves and needs both of you. The old shades of James Barnes have faded. The new shade is here.

You are made to wear the blindfold again and you are glad because you don't want to see where he is held. You don't want to imagine him anywhere else but in your arms. When you get home you cannot settle, Steve cannot settle and you both sit up watching television, talking nonsense, anything that isn't Bucky related because if either of you mention him you know you will crack.

And deep down inside you know the countdown for James Barnes's life has begun.