CHAPTER TWO.
( saving barnes. )

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  "It'll be two days before they can prepare a jet for me," Gem said, keeping her eyes on the floor.

  She hated how easy it had been. A simple call and the confirmation of her identity was all it took. With her precarious position regarding HYDRA's downfall, Gem was suspicious of how easy it felt. What was worse; it was hard to tell if that worked in her favour.

  Gem held the phone out for the man to take. He grabbed it, turning it off just as quickly. Not that tracing her would be hard. She was a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, after all.

"You'll have one day to prepare transport," he told her. His voice and his expression were reserved. Every move— every word was deliberate.

  No breath wasted when it came to him.

It annoyed her. "Two days," Gem insisted. "It's standard procedure. If I rush it, they'll get suspicious."

He glared at her, "Do you think you're in any position to be making demands?"

She scowled, "Are you? You won't find a better pilot to get you out of the country unseen." He had to realize that by now.

Gem gauged his reaction carefully. His eyes cut to the wall, following the thought. She knew he needed her. It wasn't just about the ease of her piloting skills. Gem was a clear deflection from government attention.

He wouldn't leave this country unscathed, not without her— and there weren't many other options. None that wouldn't take one look at the soldier and run. Or die trying in their attempt.

  Who else could he trust that would not betray him in turn?

Not that Gem hadn't pondered over it herself. But, without the guarantee of her safety, she was more inclined to bargain for the sake of her life. Hoarding a fugitive wasn't exactly beyond her ethics— and living mattered more to Gem than her loyalty to the country (not that much of it existed to begin with.)

"Two days. That's it."

He left quickly afterwards, but not before tying Gem to her seat. She smiled at his retreating figure, taking the small victory with ease. She needed to learn how to navigate this uneasy alliance.

And that started with figuring out how she fit into this escape plan.

If she got too close, Gem would surely die. He couldn't let her live while she knew too much. That meant she had to maintain as much distance as possible, while allying herself to him with the promise of safety. As long as he guaranteed her own.

Gem worried over the plan for the next hour or so. It was hard to pinpoint the exact time. Her basement was bare, solitary, and cold. She shivered in her seat.

Being a prisoner in her own home did not feel good to Gem.

She let her head fall back, trying to dispel the anxiety. It wasn't rational to think she was going to die. He wouldn't let her, not while he still needed her.

  It wasn't a very comforting thought.

Gem wasn't entirely sure if she should cry, or still her trembling breaths. What use would tears be? She doubted pity still lived inside this man. It was the usual result when you carved a weapon from skin and bone.

Beyond the trigger, nothing else entirely survives; just an echo.

Wincing against her restraints, Gem felt her body tense. The thoughts were unpleasant. Her skin felt suddenly tight. Gem was still wearing her gym clothes and everything she usually wished to hide was open, exposed for the eyes to see.

Gem pressed her body deeper against the chair, shielding her back. The path into infiltrating HYDRA's ranks had been costly indeed. But, the betrayal against that path invoked a punishment far worse.

She closed her eyes, trying to find sleep beyond the memory. Gem needed her strength. She had to survive this— for the apologies still unspoken. The promises to be kept.

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  James wasn't sure of most things, especially regarding his current situation.

  Beyond the desire to flee, he had nothing. Nothing but memories and a tension that wouldn't recede. It never left him. His body was in constant poise, ready for a fight that wouldn't come.

  Flight had never been an option where it concerned James. Not until he let go of that steel bar and had fallen to the Potomac below. Now, his mind could only swim with the prospect of escape.

  All his questions— and the navigation of this perpetual brain fog— could come later. James had an identity now; something to cling to, no matter how minuscule. It gave him purpose.

  He lifted his head, feeling his mind clear in momentary clarity. James Buchanan Barnes. The name had a sense of... nostalgia. A reprieve from the blank space of 'who am I?'

  It calmed him, if only for a short while.

  The assault of... other memories was rarely far behind. Distinct recollections of being battered and bruised. Violent reiterations of the same fight, over and over again. He always made it out alive, whether he desired it or not.

  Then there were the memories that rung too close to the present. The violation of his allegiance to HYDRA. He wasn't meant to recognize that man on the helicarrier. The Winter Soldier wasn't meant to save him the day HYDRA fell to its watery grave, freeing James' of his ties to the organization.

There were many things he wasn't meant to do that day.

James wasn't a good person by any means. He knew that. He had enough memories of HYDRA to know that sins like his weren't easily cleansed. Not that he had much interest in religion, or the idea that someone else could absolve him of his wrongs.

  He had no illusions of making things right, even if such a possibility did exist. And if it didn't, James would live with that. He would bear the weight of his wrongs and the pain that followed. It was a more lenient punishment than he deserved.

James wondered if that was why he chose to save Steve Rogers and Gem Halloway.

  Not so much for the sake of repentance, but rather to right the harm he'd caused them both. The target he had painted on her back, and the blatant scars he'd laid across Steve Rogers memory of him.

  Or, who James had once been.

The idea that he was something (or someone) new wasn't a hard pill to swallow. James was not the same. He knew that.

Every part of who he was had scattered into sharp fragments. The past, the present, and the future blurred together so often. James was mostly reduced to nothing more than a body of fear and incessant anxiety.

  James felt his limbs release their tension. His legs were shaking. His heart felt like it was going to implode in his chest.

He was not Bucky— not entirely.

  He wasn't the Winter Soldier either— not entirely.

That had to be the reason he found himself collapsed on Gem Halloway's kitchen floor. It must be why his chest felt so tight. He wasn't a killer.

  He wasn't a bad person. So, why was he holding Gem Halloway hostage? Why were his instincts at war with his mind?

Why did it hurt?

Why was he scared?

Why was it so hard to breath?

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  Gem was getting tired of waiting.

  She wasn't exactly experienced at being a hostage. But, at the very least, she expected a little hospitality. Some water here, a bit of bread there. Gem knew he had to realize that starving her wasn't a good idea.

  Ultimately, it would be his own fault if she passed out in the middle of their flight.

  "Hello!" Gem called out, feeling a little foolish as she stared aimlessly at the ceiling.

  The silence was unsettling. All she needed was some water— and maybe a bit of human interaction. Something to contemplate.

  Gem hadn't seen the soldier since the night before. It was morning now, with the sun shining through the small, narrow windows. The basement would only get warmer as the day went on.

  Still, she was patient. Gem listened for his footsteps. She doubted the idea that he would leave her alone, or risk venturing out into the open.

  So, where was he?

  Tired of the suspense— and willing to risk a couple bruises, Gem summoned the electricity slowly. Carefully. Her fingers went warm, the skin tickled by every spark that ran across her skin. With her body serving as a conductor, the Halloway woman burned through her restraints.

  She was less quick at untying her legs, cursing at how tight the knots were. When the rope was off, Gem rose quickly. She stretched her legs, then her arms. Her muscles were tight with nerves.

  She wasn't exactly excited for a rematch, but Gem crept up the stairs anyway. The basement door wasn't locked, simply because it didn't have one. She wasn't a fan of the idea of trapping herself in one place, intentionally or not.

  Gem opened the door slowly, still listening for the slightest indication of another person's presence. After a few minutes, she made for the kitchen. It was the closest room, with a variety of weapons; knives, pans, and a gun safely hidden in a spare drawer.

  She had no intention of being caught off guard, until Gem's foot caught on the body collapsed on her kitchen floor.

  She fell hard, winding herself as she collided with the ground. Her head struck last and it was enough to leave her incapacitated by the blow. She groaned, letting out a slew of expletives in her misery.

It wasn't until she saw what she tripped on that Gem went silent. Her body froze, lips formed in mid-curse. The soldier was right in front of her; lying on the floor. Completely passed out.

Not the, 'I lost a fight' kind of knocked out. He was the, 'I'm wounded and exhausted and I bit off more than I could chew' kind of knocked out. Gem couldn't help her laughter.

She tried to muffle the sound, but she knew there was no waking from this sleep. Not without at least 24 hours of it. Gem had been victim to it many times before, when giving in wasn't an option.

And he had more reason than most not to give up, because it meant becoming a victim to HYDRA again if he did.

Gem felt a moment of sympathy. Only a moment, before she quickly set to work. It took about an hour to get him into the basement. In her defence, she did bring down her comfortable computer chair for him. At least he could sleep without too much discomfort.

A kindness she wasn't too sure he deserved.

But, Gem Halloway wasn't cruel. She didn't blame James Buchanan Barnes, not truly. She knew what HYDRA was and what it could turn someone into. Gem had to live that reality for a short while.

James had to live with it for far longer.

She tied his feet to the chair, mimicking the knots he'd used on her. Gem figured it would hold him better that way. She didn't intend to keep him hostage for long— just long enough to get the right information out of him.

Enough information for her to figure out what her next move was.

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