They had to evacuate. There was nothing they could do. There were too many. They were overpowered. They had to evacuate. Steve announced it to everyone over the coms. He had gotten split up from Bucky at some point, but it was  Bucky. He would be okay. He could handle himself. He hoped he could handle himself because right now, Steve had no time to go looking for him. He would've gotten the evacuation notice. 

Steve boarded the helicarrier, drenched in sweat, and completely exhausted. No one said a word, they were all just as exhausted as he was, if not more. He took a mental attendance of everyone, but his heart dropped when he saw that Bucky wasn't there. Why wasn't Bucky there? "Shit..." he hissed at himself, "Have you guys seen Bucky?"

Everyone gazed at each other uneasily.

"We assumed he was with you," Nat answered. 

Steve pressed the button on his com, "Buck, where are you?" No answer, "Bucky. Please answer," still nothing. 

Steve swung his shield off his back, and turned around to exit the helicarrier again, but Tony stepped forward, and grabbed his arm to stop him, "Steve, it's too dangerous in there. We have to go."

Steve jerked his arm out of Tony's grasp, "Tony, you are absolutely fucking mental if you think I'm leaving without him."

"We don't have a choice. There is a very slim chance of you making it out alive if you go back in there."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," he stepped closer towards the door, but it slammed shut automatically, the sound of the engine grew louder, and they were lifting off the ground within seconds.

His brain was in full blown panic mode now, "Tony! Take us back! We can't leave!" he yelled desperately. 

Tony looked at him with sad eyes, "I'm sorry Steve, but I have orders... I always follow orders..."

"You take orders from me, and I order you to turn this vehicle around!"

"I have orders from S.H.I.E.L.D. I must protect the life of the captain at all costs."

"Bullshit!"

"I'm sorry Steve..."

He looked at the rest of the team, but they all stayed silent. They were unable to make eye contact. 

His anger transitioned to sorrow, "Tony..." he choked. 

"You know I wouldn't do this if I had any other choice."

Steve didn't answer. He leaned against the wall, and sunk to the ground, burying his head in his knees. Bucky couldn't be gone. Not again. He would find him. He didn't care what the hell S.H.I.E.L.D. said. He wouldn't let his best friend go this time.

***

Bucky's brain was fuzzy. Why was it so fuzzy? And it hurt. It hurt so bad. He could feel something warm trickling down from his temple which he deduced was probably the cause of the pain. He blinked hard as he tried to clear his vision, but he was seeing double, and everything was spinning. He felt intensely nauseous, but he fought it back. He had to find out where he was. He looked to his right. He was sitting in a chair in the middle of a room, his wrist was tied to the armrest, and his ankles were tied to the legs. He looked to his left, and the worst possible scenario had apparently taken place. Whoever brought him here had found out how to remove his arm. His only remaining defense was gone. There was a table beside him, and his heart sped up in fear at what was on it. Various tools sat on the surface, mostly knives, and some others that he didn't even recognize. Beside it all sat his communicator. He would've been relieved at this if he wasn't tied to a chair. The only way to actually contact the rest of the team was to press the button. He rested his head against the chair in defeat, deciding that for now he should probably just focus on breathing, and staying conscious. 

Steve's voice broke the silence. It sounded crackly, and it kept shifting in volumes. His communicator must've taken some damage, "Bucky, please answer."

He wished he could answer. That's all he wanted to do was answer. Steve would set this all straight. If only he knew where he was. He would never admit to this if he was asked, but he was scared. He was completely terrified. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, but just as he did so he heard the door across from him scrape open. 

"Well, look who's awake," a voice taunted. It sent shivers down his spine, but he did the one thing he knew how to do.
'Put on a facade, and don't let the enemy see your fear.'
He tested the strength of the rope tied around his wrist. It just cut into his skin further. There was no escape route there, and that seemed to be the only one he had. This would've been a lot easier if he had two arms. 

"I just have a few questions for you," the man said in a sinister voice as he approached Bucky, "do you think you could answer them for me?"

The man's face came into view, and Bucky wished it hadn't. His features were all serpent-like. His face was worn, and his eyes were narrow, and sharp. He was thin, but in an unsettling way. His appearance made the hairs on Bucky's arm stand up. 

"Hello? I know you're not deaf. Don't play stupid with me."

Bucky didn't say a word. He would keep his mouth shut as long as possible. 

The man turned towards the table that Bucky had been dreading. He picked up a knife, and examined the blade in a taunting manner, "you could make this so easy on yourself, you know. Just one simple question."

He walked back towards Bucky, his weapon of choice now in his hand, "tell me where the rest of your team is."

There was no way he was saying anything about the team. No way.  He lifted his eyes so that they made eye contact, and he narrowed his in defiance. 

The man sighed, twirling the knife in his hands, "I'll ask nicely one more time. I can guarantee that after that; it'll get very bloody, very fast."

He could already tell that the man wasn't lying, but that didn't change his mind. He still wouldn't say a thing in regards to the team.

Without any warning whatsoever, the knife was buried straight into his thigh. It took every bit of strength he had not to cry out in pain, but he couldn't stop the flash of pain that was shown in his facial expression as he tried to restrain it. 

"Now," he twisted the knife slowly, making it even harder for him not to scream as it tore at the flesh repeatedly, "what can you tell me about the Avengers?"

Sarcasm. That usually worked for him. Maybe he could try sarcasm, "The Avengers? I wonder what idiot came up with that stupid name," he commented, clearly fighting for air as he was on the verge on panicking, "sounds like some lame children's show."

"So he does speak..." he smiled menacingly, and ripped the knife out, allowing the blood to flow freely. Bucky was already ten times more lightheaded than he was before, "but he still plays stupid. You can't fool me. I know what kind of game you're playing. It may have worked on other people, but it won't work on me."

"You're so dramatic."

He rammed the knife into Bucky again, but this time he went for something a little more vital. He drove it straight into his torso. This caused him to gasp audibly, but he forced it to break off just as soon as it had happened. 

"Tell me where they are. I know you're working with them."

"I ain't telling you shit."

He jerked the knife just as he had done to his thigh, but he did it even faster this time, and more aggressively, "you'll snap eventually, and when you do... I'll know everything."

The man ripped the knife out, and dropped it to the ground. The sight of his own blood made Bucky sick to his stomach. 

He strolled towards the door casually whistling to himself, "I'll give you some time to think," he said before he exited the room once more. 

***

Steve paced in his room as he tried to think up a plan. Two days. It had been two days, and he still hadn't heard from Bucky. Everyone else had tried to tell him that Bucky probably hadn't made it, but he knew that wasn't true. Something in his heart told him that he'd know if he was gone. He'd feel it. He was going to get him back. He didn't care if he had to do it alone. Bucky needed him, and he wasn't going to let him down this time.

***

Bucky had lost count of how long this had been going on for. His brain was having issues actually sending signals to the rest of his body, and the blood loss was taking full effect at this point. he didn't know why this guy was after the rest of the team, but he did know that he couldn't tell him anything. He wouldn't put everyone else in danger. He hadn't screamed in a while now. His throat was too raw to do so, but as the knife was driven into the same spot in his torso for the third time, he involuntarily let out one more piercing cry.

***

Steve took down soldier, after soldier, after soldier. They were clearly trying to stop him from finding something. Maybe that something was a someone. Maybe that someone just so happened to be his boyfriend. His theory was confirmed true when a cry of sheer pain echoed down the hallway, and nearly snapped his heart into two. That was Bucky. That was his Bucky. They were hurting his Bucky.

He fought harder to get down the hallway. He was now being driven by his anger, and partly by his fear of what he may find. He threw his shield which took down the three men who stood guard in front of the door. He burst through the door expecting to find even more men, but there was only one. The man turned around as soon as he heard Steve which revealed Bucky. He was tied to a chair, a knife buried deep in his stomach, and various pools of blood seeping through his clothes. His face was too pale for comfort, and his brow had a sheen of sweat upon it. The part that worried him the most was the fact that he was no longer conscious. That was never a good sign. He was also missing his arm, leaving him even more vulnerable.

"Has the great Captain America come to save the day? I'm sorry to break it to ya, but I think it may be a little too late for saving. Don't worry though. I'm sure he'll die knowing that you didn't care enough to come back for him."

Steve knew that he was only saying that to get under his skin, but it made him even angrier. Bucky knew that he would never leave him. Right? "I'm afraid I may know him a little better than you do."

The man grabbed a gun off the table, and fired off at least five shots, but Steve raised his shield, and blocked every single one that came his way. He threw the shield, knocking the weapon clean from his hands, and once it returned, he threw it once more. It hit the man straight in the temple, and knocked him out swiftly. 

Grateful that the enemy had been eliminated, he ran to Bucky's side, and frantically untied the ropes. Bucky still didn't stir. He placed two fingers on his neck. He could feel a pulse. It was weak, and slower than it should be, but it was a pulse, and that was all that mattered. It meant that he was still alive. He looked down at the knife that was still lodged inside of him, and carefully removed it, using his hand in an attempt to slow the bleeding. With his free hand, he gently lifted Bucky's chin, "hey, Buck. It's me. I need you to wake up for me,"

He showed no signs of awareness. 

Steve pulled out his phone, and dialed Tony,

"What do you want, Cap?" was the answer he got.

"Before you yell at me... I found Bucky, but he... he's not doing great." 

He wondered why he had decided to call Tony instead of 911. Must've been the panic, "could you call the emergency response team for me?" he asked as steadily as possible. 

"I'm on it," Tony answered, hanging up so that he could call them as soon as possible.

Steve put his phone down, and placed his hand on Bucky's cheek. His skin felt feverish, "Buck?" he asked gently.

"Stevie..." he slurred almost inaudibly.

Steve couldn't help but smile in relief, "It's me. I'm here. We're going to get out of here. You're going to be just fine," he found reassurance in his own words. Bucky was going to be okay. He had found him. Steve hugged him gently, thankful that he was still there to be hugged. Bucky was having a hard time being responsive as he drifted in, and out of consciousness, but he appreciated the comfort that the hug brought him. 

"Thank you for not being dead," Steve mumbled into his shoulder tearfully.