'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'
The moment Bucky's hushed apology reached Tony, the Iron Man's vision blurred and his eyes instantly reddened beneath the raised faceplate. His palms were already open and aimed directly at Bucky's head, an intense, brilliant light flickering in the repulsor emitters like a scorching sun ready to detonate.
The energy was fully gathered, completely locking onto Bucky. It needed only one command,
Just one command, and in the next second Bucky's head would explode right before his eyes. Red and white would splatter everywhere.
His life would end, and what, precisely, would Tony gain from it?
Kill him, kill him, kill him!!! In his heart, he screamed the command again and again: Only by killing him, he must die!
But simultaneously, a cold, cutting rationality surfaced: What would I gain by killing him?
Would his parents return? Would years of pain and torment in the deepest part of his heart finally be eased? Would the future become smooth and peaceful? Would the enemies coveting Earth explode on the spot, vanquished?
No.
None of it would happen.
His parents were dead. Killing the man before him would never bring them back.
He was merely a tool, a weapon used by Hydra to eliminate their obstacles. Killing the tool was like destroying the knife in a butcher's hand.
They could simply buy another.
This detached, brutal thought shot through Tony's mind, and he froze.
Could it be that, in some fundamental sense, the man before him was nothing more than a weapon?
Just like the weapons Tony had created, the ones used to kill Wanda and Pietro's parents. The only difference was that Hydra had created a weapon, and that weapon killed his parents…
But… but…
Countless thoughts surged and clashed in his mind, the chaos forcing Tony's breathing to turn ragged and shallow. Bucky lowered his head, bracing for the final, violent strike he deserved.
"AAAHHHHH!!!"
A maddened, wordless roar suddenly erupted from Tony. A scorching blast of repulsor air swept past Bucky's ears, the energy unleashed not at him, but at the empty space beside his head. With a thunderous BOOM, the thick alloy wall of the Camp Lehigh tunnel caved inward, it did not break, collapse, or melt, but buckled under the sheer force.
"I won't forgive you!"
Bucky looked up in confusion toward the armored man and heard the next, raw scream,
"I will NEVER forgive you!!! Don't even DREAM about it!!!"
As the words ended, Tony's helmet slammed shut with a hiss of hydraulics. In the next instant, his armored body shot vertically into the sky and vanished from the end of the tunnel.
Only Mark Series's slightly aggrieved, mechanized voice echoed overhead:
[The base has suffered an attack by an authorized user. Eliminating invasion possibility. Command: Unit 201 Mark Series, Unit 315 Mark Series, proceed immediately to repair damaged area.]
Bucky's gaze turned hollow. He rolled to the side and sat heavily on the ground, leaning against the cold wall. His face held no sign of relief, only crushing guilt.
The guards looked at each other, utterly bewildered.
When Tony arrived, they hadn't understood the conflict. When the chaos erupted, they didn't know whom to protect. And now, when it ended so abruptly and inexplicably, they didn't even know what to say.
What on earth had just transpired?
They exchanged glances again and again until familiar footsteps sounded from the distance. They quickly saluted. It was Natasha who had arrived, her expression tight.
She stood before Bucky, looking down at his empty eyes, and sighed. "Well. Things didn't go to the worst ending."
Bucky's pupils slowly refocused. He looked at Natasha. "And what was the ending you all expected?"
"You're dying," Natasha said, without flinching. "And honestly, this is probably the best outcome. At the very least, expecting you and Tony to shake hands and reconcile is something that will never happen in the real world."
Bucky's mouth twitched into a grim line. "I don't deserve to shake his hand."
"Then it's not entirely your fault," Natasha conceded. "Each of us understands the whole situation, but at the same time, none of us has the authority to guide it or give advice. The only thing we can do is witness everything as it happens."
Bucky nodded, not arguing the point, but changed the subject. "And Sam?"
"Happily, he's not here," Natasha sighed. "You came back at a very bad time."
"Perhaps… It's the best time," Bucky countered. "I don't know when he told Tony everything. But now, it seems this might be the best outcome… Otherwise, if Sam were here, he might have made some… irrational choice."
"Until that moment comes, no one knows what the next second will bring," Natasha agreed. "How long do you plan to just sit there?"
Bucky blinked. What did she mean?
"Since you're back, you can't just sit there, or keep waiting for death to arrive," Natasha said, her tone suddenly professional. "From what we see, since Tony didn't kill you, he probably won't kill you anytime soon. Come on. Camp Lehigh needs people right now. Since you're back, you can't just be idle."
"…Was that your actual plan for me?" Bucky was struggling to keep up with the abrupt shift from execution to employment.
A moment ago, he had been teetering between life and death, waiting for death to strike.
Tony didn't kill him, already an unexpected outcome.
And now, the fact that he was alive meant he had to work? Was this some form of bizarre survivor's exploitation?
"What else do you think?" Natasha fixed him with a stare. "Arthur said that when people are not in control of themselves, they may make mistakes. The key isn't what he did back then, but what he will do when he has free will. If all you do is sit here dazed and waiting for retribution, I'm sorry, there's no place for you at Camp Lehigh."
"Alright, I understand." Bucky's mouth twitched again. He looked thoughtfully toward the other end of the tunnel, the direction Tony had vanished into the sky.
Then he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he asked, his voice low, "Is 'sorry' the most pale and powerless thing one can say?"
Natasha remained silent, offering no easy comfort.
"Then… perhaps I'll have to express my apology in another way," Bucky said, the resolve hardening his gaze. "Even though I know it will never be enough."
Natasha nodded, satisfied with the change in him. "Perhaps… there's just the right task coming up that will need your help."
Since Fury had dissolved SHIELD, Hydra no longer had a legitimate cloak under which to hide. The global effort against their remaining cells was paramount. Since Bucky had once been their weapon and had killed Tony's parents, now turning his considerable skills against Hydra could not undo the past, but it might be the only tangible thing he could offer.
Bucky nodded, then asked one final question. "He… is okay, right?"
"He's the strongest person I've ever seen besides Sam," Natasha said, a sliver of genuine respect in her voice. "So, he'll be fine. He'll find his path."
(End of chapter)
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