fossilised | I come from a land of ice and snow

I come from a land of ice and snow

Asgard sat atop the branches of Yggdrasil since time began, and little had changed in their society in the years since. Each Asgardian was long-lived into the millennia, their lands were fertile, their people brave and strong. They had their vassals, their allies, and their enemies. Yet even those who opposed them respected the might of the Golden Dias, and the royalty who sat upon it. Currently that was Odin Borson, though he grew weary more easily now and had begun to consider passing the throne to his eldest son.

He had been blessed with many children, but only two that he considered worthy of his lineage and status. His firstborn, Thor, strong and honourable and everything an Asgardian warrior should be. His second son, Loki, was not natural born, though none knew that but his wife. He was different, a creature of magic and mayhem, of sharp intelligence. Both were worthy, but together they would take Asgard to a new prosperity, he was certain of it.

Midgard, where the mortals dwelt, was a land raided every few centuries for stock. It was seen as a breeding ground, much like a corral for cattle. Mortals were lesser, short-lived and weak, they were fit only as slaves. The last raid had taken place when Loki had been but a baby, nearly a thousand years ago, but the mortals that had been taken had been bred and cared for so that a healthy slave population still thrived. Slaves were given a weakened mixture of Idunn's crop with their food, to extend their natural lives to at least a few centuries in order to make them worth the effort to train. They had no rights, but they were taught well that this was their natural position.

All slave children were raised in a central pen and taught the same when small, those that then displayed talent at cooking, riding, hunting, housework, artisan skills, or singing were then measured off to be specially trained for higher masters. Every five years those who could afford to buy a slave, or those of high enough status to simply demand them, came to the corral and chose. Those who were chosen were special, were envied, and those who were not ended up working the fields out in the far reaches of Asgard, the most menial of work.

Anthony and Steven had been friends since they were little and being raised in the large pens together. Both had excelled, Anthony at crafting and Steven at warrior's skills, but neither were chosen when they were five, nor ten, nor even fifteen. Now, at twenty, it was their final chance to be chosen before they would be assigned to one of the meanest farmers beyond the borders of the great capital. Steven woke Anthony as the dawn rose, mingled excitement and nerves on his face.

"Anthony! Wake up, I've got news! I heard the overseer talking to one of the passing guards, and Princes Thor and Loki are coming to the corral today."

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It was damaging to Steve too, but he was a guy that threw himself on grenades and a guy that put the greater good above the rest. He loved Bucky, but he knew that Bucky would understand why this was happening. Even if it was killing them both and setting their relationship back.

Steve was grateful to Bruce, nodding as he stood with his arms crossed behind him. "Good," he said, verbally, because this play act meant that he needed to give audible responses to his men.

Tony would be staying with him, leaning on his cane as he watched Bucky leave with Bruce. The two of them had made up over the course of the last week (sex helped Bucky calm down even if it was just Steve receiving without reciprocation for now). He arched an eyebrow at Steve, but said nothing.

And it was Tony that rattled off some names he had dealt with adversely from various state and federal governmental boards. He had no idea that HYDRA had infiltrated the government, but if HYDRA existed in secret then of course it had.

This whole thing hurt Steve's heart. He had never wanted to be the person to cause Bucky any kind of pain or fear, not even for the greater good, but sometimes the world just had a way of making those wishes impossible to come true. It was sickening to hear the level to which HYDRA had infiltrated the government, infiltrated the world, and it made him feel like a bit of a failure.

What had all of their sacrifices been for if not to stop Red Skull and the planned march forwards of hatred?

None of that showed on his face, though, as the woman nodded to at least two of the names. "I don't know, I don't know all the people here." But she did at least give them a few names, fifteen of them in total, which was a fraction of the number held here. "I'm no traitor, I activated the Soldier in-- it was a mistake. Please."

Fifteen names was a lot. HYDRA was dangerous and if even just a few of those names of top politicians were actually HYDRA, like in reality, then Tony thought that they were screwed. The organization would grow. Chaos would reign-- so they had to do something about it. Something drastic.

"You activated the Soldier accidentally?" he asked. "I don't buy that. It's not like you get a black trench coat, spy glasses and the codes to the Asset at your first Hail HYDRA. You knew he existed. You had access to the trigger words. You used them. And then you sent him to kill people. Not cool."

Tony glanced at Steve. The blond's face was unreadable. He didn't like it.

"Those people were responsible for us being captured, enslaved, and raped!" She shot back at him in indignant rage. Terrified though she might be, she wasn't ashamed for having taken her revenge by using the Soldier to get it. That's what a weapon like him was for.

Steve felt as though he might break into pieces. As if all they had to deal with wasn't enough, now they had the probability of a HYDRA infestation too, and if they didn't get it all then it would fester and grow again. How could they ever be sure they got it all? People could lie, they could go into hiding for decades, it was what had happened before.

"Are you saying that you think those deaths were wrong? Revenge and survival, those are the centre of HYDRA."

"Yeah. As someone that was raped myself, yeah I think those deaths were wrong." Maybe that was surprising to say... Right up until the following sentence at least. "You robbed thousands of people their revenge."

He couldn't help but be angry about that. He thought that they should be executed. He doubted Steve would allow that but that didn't mean that Tony didn't want it.

"And you didn't even do it yourself. You had some guy that had no idea what he was doing be the weapon for you."

Well he wasn't playing HYDRA here. He never had been. He didn't care if he admitted that he saw Bucky as a human being.

"So you're a thief and a coward."

"You're not HYDRA," she exclaimed scornfully at Tony, before turning suspicious eyes up to Steve. Nobody who was would ever think of the Asset as a person, as anything other than a weapon to be utilised by anyone who had the codes. Which made Steve instantly suspect too, as he was working with someone and giving secrets to someone who wasn't HYDRA.

Much as he hated himself for it, Steve's face hardened into a scornful expression of his own. He was a good actor when he wanted to be, he just hated it.

"You think that we can afford to work only with our own now? Circumstances have changed, the earth is gone, we have to adapt or all our heads will die out. Tony and I have a pact of silence, I can't help his-- beliefs."

Tony glanced at Steve. They had names, why were they still acting the part as HYDRA? To flush out more? That probably made sense but he didn't like the idea at all of Captain America playing a HYDRA operative. It hurt him, in ways that he didn't believe possible. Tony scowled at himself for that. He'd never been a fan of the hero but obviously he's meant more to him than he had originally let on if he was upset over the tarnish.

Tony slipped his hands into his pockets as the woman hissed some reaponse in Russian that Tony was not going to translate for Steve. He just rolled his eyes and replied back in kind.

Russian was a forgiving language. It sounded musical. Even when spouting ugly things.

"We all want the same thing. We want to make sure what happened doesn't happen again. But you really screwed the pooch with our prisoners. Cap, it's your call. But I think we should kill her."

Tony doubted Steve would go for it.

"She's useless. Look how they broke her."

There was only so far that Steve could push a part, and it definitely wasn't going to be for personal execution. He would kill people, had killed people many times in the past when he fought, that was the nature of war. But that didn't mean that he killed indiscriminately, and it didn't mean that he would abandon every moral part of himself.

Though...

Though HYDRA were the ones that came the closest to making him want to abandon those morals. When he thought of what had been done to Bucky, when he heard about the way they treated him like an actual machine that had no rights, it burned a white hot rage in his gut that made him want to punish each and everyone one of them.

But he still shook his head.

"Put her in isolation, we'll figure out what to do with her when we have the others."

“Rea—” Tony shifted his weight to thump his cane on the floor. “Really? No thanks. Your friend, your problem,” Tony said, which was half in whatever character he was supposed to portray and half because he did not like being told, at all, what to do. Not by Mr. Barnes, especially. “I might just drop her off of a tall building anyway.”

Not true, but she didn’t have to know that. Loki was likely waiting nearby, but it was the other Mr. Barnes he was aiming to find, and he limped back towards where he figured he and Banner had gone.

He didn’t like this. It was always something. Why couldn’t he have one really great day without everything going straight to hell?

Steve shot Tony a look of genuine annoyance as the other man limped away, leaving him to deal with the woman. Would it really kill him to show some empathy and help out sometimes? Steve wanted to get back and find Bucky too, but now he was stuck doing the grunt work because it had to be done.

It wouldn't be hard to find Bruce and Bucky, Bruce had taken the other man to one of the isolated little medical buildings and had him sat on one of the beds with a blood pressure cuff around his arm, salvaged from one of their rescue missions on earth. Not that he needed to take blood pressure, but it was something to be doing while he tried to figure out what to do for the best with this staring, silent shell of a man.

He glanced up when Tony came in and gave him a tight little smile, glasses slipping down his face a bit. "All sorted?"

"Oh yeah. Things are going great. Got about a dozen names. Probably need to use those names to get a dozen more. It's messed up," Tony complained as he sat himself down gingerly, mindful of his leg and the cane he was using. "In other news, we have another jail break coming with the Sargent here. And it looks like half a dozen people dead. Which is going to be a problem, I can just tell. I'm thinking about resigning my position on the Council. There's a reason I made Pepper boss. I don't make good decisions."

And he would be leaving with Loki in a few months.

Pulling himself over with his good heel on the edge of a wheeled chair, Tony leaned in towards Bucky.

"And you. We need to get those trigger words out of your head before your Hubby goes complete dark side. Mission report from your activation."

There was something very wrong with the Soldier.

Ever since he had heard the blond handler say that he was HYDRA, horrific tangles of things had been happening inside his head. Betrayal, fear, sorrow-- but it hadn't manifested outwardly yet, he had sat like a lamb as Bruce examined him and remained completely silent.

But then here was a man who inspired strong feelings as well, and not all of them positive, and all of a sudden it was all erupting out of him. He surged up from his seat and slammed his metal fist towards Tony's throat, aiming to rupture his windpipe unless he got out of the way in time, his face set in a snarl.

Strands of hair being caught up between the sliding plates on a metal finger, Tony fell to the floor and felt the strands rio from his scalp. "What did I say?!" he quipped, even as he was trying to crawl under the bed. "I know we haven't been friends lately but Jesus, Barnes!"

This was not what they needed. Not another Code Green so soon after the last. Banner wouldn't survive his own demons if he kept erupting into the Hulk every two weeks.

"Stand down! Off! Go to sleep! Fuck! Not me though!"

Bruce froze for a long moment, eyes wide in indecision. He couldn't code green, and that meant he couldn't risk getting involved, but he couldn't just leave Tony to get beaten to a bloody pulp either.

"Sergeant Barnes, stop! Now!"

Not that the words of either of them had any effect on Bucky. He was lost to this weird angry grief that he couldn't verbalise or even understand properly, and he had finally snapped and lost control to become something almost feral. Tony was his target right now, and so he ripped the bed up off the floor and threw it at the wall.

Scurrying across the floor like an ant would have been better with more arms and legs, all of which being in working condition. This was not a fun ride, therefore, to press himself back against the wall.

He lifted his arms back over his face, gazing up at Barnes in surprised fear.

"Woah, woah!" He could still feel the reverberations from the discarded bed and cowered at the sound. He was going to die here. Stupidly. And Bucky was going to regret it when he came out of it. "Banner get out of here!"

He was going to be able to put up too much resistance, but it should be enough for Bruce to get out of there and lock them in.

Bruce wasn't about to let Bucky kill Tony, but he couldn't get involved himself or he might end up killing them both. "I'll get Steve," he shouted, and ran for the door as fast as he could, praying that Tony could hold him off until then, though it didn't look good.

Bucky... the Soldier... whoever he was at the moment, had no thought in his head except for the destructive raging grief that was pouring out of him in a torrent. He was crying, though he didn't realise it, even as he slammed his fist towards Tony's head to try and knock him out.

Unfortunately for him, that hit would be blocked by a hand that didn't look like it should be big enough. Loki had come to see where her friend had got to and had instead found him under attack. It was over so quickly-- she acted as she saw fit, not knowing about his exceptional circumstances, to neutralise a deadly threat. A spear of ice right through the chest, halting Bucky in his tracks as blood gurgled out of his lips.

"Steve?" He murmured, as the life began to leave him, rage draining away with his blood. "Steve was HYDRA?"

Not auspicious last words, full of betrayal and sorrow rather than peace, but they were Bucky's last words.

Mouth open, Tony had been sure it would be his own blood all over the floor. He'd been relieved when Loki's slim form appeared in front of him and he'd been on the verge of thanking her for stopping Barnes from crushing his skull just before he heard the words and the blood that clung to them in a gurgle.

He skittered forward, sliding upon someone's life, to catch Bucky just before he collapsed onto his face. "No. No he was pretending to be HYDRA--" Oh shit on a stick. Tony felt nothing but dread as Bucky inhaled for the last time but did not exhale again.

His tongue was thick in his mouth as he sat back, unable to bend one leg, and gazed up at Loki. This was bad. This was going to be so, so bad.

The spear of ice that had been impaling Bucky melted back into water, leaving nothing but a gaping hole in his chest and the floor slicked with red. He did not have a peaceful face in death, tears still on his cheeks and expression now permanently twisted into genuine heartbreak.

Loki stepped forward to place a hand on Tony's shoulder, her voice soft but not at all guilty for what she had done. "Be calm, my friend, the danger has passed and you are safe. His soul will be in Hel now." No Valhalla for a wanton murderer, or an attempted murderer, his was not a glorious death in battle.

It was at this moment that Bruce was even now slamming into the room where Steve was, urgently demanding that he come before Bucky killed Tony.

“You probably should have let him kill me,” Tony said, not something he would ever say lightly either. His face was ashy and gaunt, but not just from fear or sorrow. He was worried. Worried what would happen when Steve found out—

He didn’t exactly have to wonder for too long, though. He was still sitting in Barnes’ blood, one leg under him, hands covered in red, when Steve opened the door. He could see the man’s face lose all light as he swayed for a moment and then knelt down beside his husband. He checked for a pulse, already knowing what he would find.

But he was a soldier. Even when there was no army and no leadership and no troops, he was a soldier. And sometimes soldiers died.

Steve closed Bucky’s eyes and bowed over him, pulling him to his chest. He thought it was Tony that had done it, but if Bruce was right about Bucky attacking the other man…it was self defense. And he knew that. Even if it raged inside of his skull. “I need a minute,” he whispered, and when everyone just stayed put, he let his voice rise in a yell. “I said I need a minute!”

Bruce stopped in the doorway, horror written all over his face quickly followed by guilt. He shouldn't have run, he should have stayed, and then maybe this wouldn't have happened. A wound like that, though, surely Tony could never have done it. He wasn't a fighter on par with Bucky, not unless he was in his suit.

He jolted when Steve shouted, heartbreak in his voice, and stepped forwards to try and help Tony to his feet. "Come on, we should-- Steve needs a moment, let's go and get you cleaned up, some fresh clothes."

Loki made no move to leave, instead she took a step nearer. Though she felt no guilt for what she had done, she had honour and that demanded that she explain to this warrior what had occurred in his mate's final moments. "I am sorrowful for your loss, Steven Barnes, but you should know that he died attacking another and would have killed had I not ended his life first. He died swiftly, and his final words were of you."

Steve was barely keeping it back. He wasn’t the kind of guy to cry in front of people and he was tenacious when it came to putting on a strong front. But that was almost impossible now. Tears ran silently over a hardened face as he cradled his dead husband in his arms. Blue eyes, as blue as the sky could ever hope to be, focused on Loki, and he just about lost it, shoulders shaking as Tony leaned on Bruce by the doorway.

“He didn’t die a weapon,” Steve cried, pressing his face into Bucky’s hair. “Not if he knew me.”

And that might be the best that Steve could ever hope for. He didn’t thank Loki for this information, he couldn’t be mad at a girl who had been protecting her friend. It was no one’s fault but HYDRA’s. And it would be HYDRA that would be getting all of Steve’s rage in a very, very brief time.

Tony cleared his throat and motioned for Loki to leave with them. Steve needed to grieve in peace before there was no more peace left to have.

It was probably a kindness that Loki hadn't told Steve what Bucky's exact last words had been, ones of betrayal, only that they had been about him. She may still tell him in time, he would probably be curious to know exactly what had been deemed important enough to say with Bucky's last breath.

But for now, she left with Tony and Bruce, who supported him under his arm.

"You are still hurt, Tony, you should be taken to bed and sleep there for at least this night, no more can be done now."

Bruce looked ashen, voice slightly hoarse. "I shouldn't have left, I'm sorry."

“You could have hurt a lot more people,” Tony said, knowing it sounded harsh, but he had almost just died for the third time in the last few months and he was shaken up by it, covered in blood, and about to throw up. Loki’s attempt to save him flickered like a brief light in his chest, but it was snuffed out by what they were coming to.

He should have died. His contribution was important, but Bucky’s survival was instrumental to keeping Steve together and Steve was their glue.

“I don’t want to stay here anyway. I’ll go back to my own bed. I don’t.. Banner, I’ve got this.” He took his cane from Loki and slipped an arm from over Bruce’s neck. “Don’t beat yourself up. There’s going to be a whole lot of work to do now. HYDRA is in full force. We’re going to have a bad time of this. A really, really bad time. So… Help Steve. He’ll need you more than me.”

Bruce was still inclined to feel incredibly guilty about what had happened and the choices he had made. Perhaps he would have made things much worse and killed more people, or maybe he wouldn't have and Bucky would still be sitting here today so that Steve could see him, touch him, be with him.

But he knew better than almost anyone how to hold that grief and guilt inside and not let it manifest where it could cause damage for other people, and they needed him to be strong right now. He nodded, though he did touch Tony's shoulder in gentle companionship before he slopped away.

Loki, however, cotinued on with Tony towards his room, brow furrowed in confusion. "Who are HYDRA?"

Explaining HYDRA took time and patience and while Tony did not have much of either, and his voice was incredibly flat, he did his best to convey to Loki the bad news that these people meant. “Organized chaos isn’t the right word for it. They believe in changing the world by destroying it. It probably looked pretty great on paper when they started out but like any group of lawless people, no one actually wants lawlessness. They’re the people that made Bucky into less of a human and used him only as a weapon. I don’t believe a lot in evil…but they’re evil.”

He needed to get this blood off of him. He needed to figure out how best to handle this situation. He needed to know that Steve could manage this before he dropped—

But first… “Thank you, Loki. I would have died.”

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