A/N: Sequel to the Good Soldier. I'd recommend reading that first, but you'll probably be fine if you start here :) Enjoy! Chapter titles are from Meds by Placebo. Because I can't listen to it without thinking of Bucky and Steve. The points of view will be switching between the two of them, which I hope won't be confusing. Let me know :)

1. I was alone, falling free

"Remember when I made you ride the roller coaster at Coney Island?"

"Yeah, and I threw up?" Steve replied, grimacing at the memory.

"This isn't payback for that, is it?"

"Why would I do that?"

Steve smiled at him, teasing. He couldn't bring himself to smile back. He shifted his weight, and stared down at the train tracks far below. His gaze followed the zip line up the distance to where it was attached above his head. He took a deep breath. He had told Steve he would follow him anywhere. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind, but there wasn't anyone else he would rather follow.

"We were right. Dr. Zola's on the train," Jones said, reporting what he was hearing on the radio. Steve and Bucky turned to face him. "Hydra gave them permission to open up the throttle. Wherever he's going, they must need him bad."

Bucky looked at Steve. His friend met his eye, resolute, determined to eradicate this threat. He hadn't told Steve about what had happened during his time as a prisoner of war. He hadn't told him that Zola had performed experiments on him. He had no idea how much Steve guessed, but the look on his face convinced him that his friend knew more than he had let on. The look on Steve's face was questioning, and he nodded in response. He was ready. Steve put on his helmet, and turned back to face the train tracks.

"Let's get going because they're moving like the devil," Farnsworth said, looking through his binoculars.

Steve tossed the harness over the zip line and caught it in his other hand. "We've only got about a ten second window," he called to the men. "You miss that window, we're bugs on a windshield."

"Mind the gap," Farnsworth recommended.

"Better get moving, bugs," Dugan said dryly.

Bucky took his place behind Steve, Jones following him. He gripped the ropes tightly in both hands and stood ready. When the train came into view, Steve jumped from the cliff, sliding down the long line. He waited half a beat, then jumped after him. The wind rushed by his ears deafeningly, and the cold shocked his face. He kept his eyes on Steve, dropping moments after his friend onto the roof of the train.

Jones dropped behind, and the three of them moved quickly and carefully forward, crouching close to the surface to reduce their wind resistance. Steve found a ladder that reached the roof, and climbed quickly down it. Bucky followed, leaving Jones behind to keep watch. Steve yanked open the door next to the ladder and jumped inside, Bucky quick behind him. He pulled the door shut as they took stock of their surroundings.

The car was about twenty-five feet long, with railings along the sides and nothing else except by the doors, where a few crates were piled. In the middle of the car was shelving containing cargo. Most of the cargo was long metal boxes of varying size. There was no one immediately evident, though the noise they had made must surely have been noticed. He lifted his rifle to his shoulder and cleared both sides of the car. Steve walked on into the next car and, before he could follow, a door slid shut between them.

He paused only a moment, then whipped around and starting firing as three men entered the opposite end of the car. One man was down. He took cover behind a pile of cargo on the right side of the car, and took aim. He fired repeatedly, not entirely certain where his assailants were hiding. Out of ammo, he pulled out his pistol and fired that as well, crossing to the other side of the car. Another man was down.

A resounding hollow click was the only sound when he aimed at the final man. He turned around and pressed his back against the box, catching his breath and considering his options. He had known what following Steve would mean. He had hoped it wouldn't happen this soon, but it didn't change his choice. The door opened suddenly and Steve was standing there, holding out a pistol. He tossed the weapon to Bucky, who caught it deftly and gave him a nod of thanks. Steve ran into the room and pushed the cargo on the right side of the middle platform, forcing the last man to jump out of the way and into Bucky's line of sight. He took him down with one shot.

He left his cover and joined Steve, looking down at the men to be sure they were no longer a threat. "I had him on the ropes," he asserted.

"I know you did," Steve replied, glancing at him. He didn't smile, but he looked amused, no doubt remembering previous encounters where their roles had been switched.

There was a strange sound behind them, and Bucky whipped around. A masked man in black leather was aiming two weapons at them, one in each hand. They glowed blue and the glow was increasing as the sound grew in pitch. "Get down!" Steve cried, lifting his shield. Bucky moved behind Steve and the shield, and was thrown back when the blast hit them.

It may have only been a moment, but it took some effort to get his bearings. He lay on his belly on the floor of the train, on the left side, and Steve had been thrown against the wall on the right. He wasn't moving. Wind whistled past his head. A significant portion of the wall had been blown out. Their attacker was charging the weapon again. Bucky saw the shield laying within his reach and jumped to his feet, lifting it to protect himself while he got off a few shots, though they appeared to have no effect.

The weapon finished charging and the blast knocked him off his feet and out through the gaping hole in the wall. He managed to catch onto the warped railing and clung to the wall, the wind pushing him against the surface. It was moving erratically as the train sped on.

"Bucky!" Steve yelled.

He looked up to see his friend at the edge of the train, climbing out to meet him. He pulled himself upward and began to move slowly along the twisted metal toward Steve.

"Hold on!" Steve called, nearly halfway along the wall fragment. "Grab my hand!" he shouted over the wind, extending his gloved hand as far as he could.

Bucky moved as close as he was able and let go of the railing with his right hand to reach out. He had almost made contact when the metal gave in and broke away from the wall. "No!" he screamed, hearing Steve echo the cry as he fell away.

He awakes in a cold sweat, breathing hard. His throat hurts. He has probably been screaming again. Disoriented, he sits up sharply and, lacking another weapon, holds his arms tense and ready at his sides. A light turns on and he sees that he is in a large room, on a bed in the center. There is a desk and some other furniture in the room. His inspection ceases when he sees the man sitting in the desk, having just turned the light on, looking at him.

"You're safe here, James," the man said. His tone is not particularly gentle, but matter-of-fact and somehow soothing

The man… His thoughts circle. Steve! He remembers suddenly. He relaxes his taut muscles and slows his labored breaths. "Where are we?" he asks, tentatively.

"Avengers Tower."

The name means nothing to him. He looks around slowly. The room is becoming familiar, but not overly so. "Why?"

A flicker of pity crosses the man's, Steve's, face. "You came to find me. You were in my room, in here, waiting for me when I came home a few hours ago. Do you remember?"

He considers. "I remember falling," he says at last.

Steve looks at him intently. "You do? From the train?"

After a pause, he nods. "I think so."

"Is that what you were dreaming about?"

"I guess," he shrugs, not wanting to discuss it further.

Steve sits back, reclining in the chair. "Do you want to go back to sleep?"

"Okay," he replies and lies back down. He closes his eyes and the light turns off again.