A tear fell onto the ice, and before the splash could even disperse, Bucky felt as if his bones had been removed, and he sank down. His knees buckled, and he sat directly in the pile of broken ice. His mechanical arm slammed into the ground with a loud thud, cracking the earth.
Captain America's hand was still on his shoulder; he didn't dare move.
He knew this wasn't an act—that tear was warm, and it had flowed down his fingertip.
" Bucky?" he called again, his voice more steady than before. "Can you hear me?"
Bucky didn't look up; his head was lowered, like a frozen stone. But his mouth moved; his lips were dry and cracked, opening and closing as if he were chewing air. "... Steve?"
"It's me." Captain America slowly crouched down, bringing his eyes together. "You're back."
After he finished speaking, the power distribution room became so quiet that you could hear the ice melting. Ye Mo sat against the wall, his right hand still smoking. His Regeneration ability had finally reached the end of its cooling phase. He felt a tickling sensation like ants crawling under his skin, indicating that new flesh was growing.
He braced himself with his left hand on the ground, tried to use his legs, and could barely exert any force, but dared not stand up.
" Emma Frost," he whispered.
"Yes." Emma Frost leaned against the wall, her posture slightly unsteady. Her mental energy was almost completely depleted, and she was even panting as she spoke.
"Is he even normal? What if he suddenly does a 360-degree spiral slash right after we've just finished recognizing each other?"
Emma Frost closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again, her eyes flashing slightly. "The brainwaves are chaotic, but it's not program control... He's fighting with himself, his memories and the remnants of brainwashing are clashing."
"Oh." Ye Mo nodded. "That means you're half-conscious, the kind who could faint at any moment."
"Almost."
"Alright then." Ye Mo grimaced, wincing in pain. "Let's treat this like the last minute before the finale of a TV drama, and not applaud too soon."
Emma Frost glanced at him. "Can you stop using the system as an excuse all the time?"
"This isn't what the system said, it's what I figured out myself," Ye Mo chuckled. "Besides, I haven't slacked off either, have I?"
As he spoke, he slowly moved his left leg forward half an inch, lowering his center of gravity. Even if Regeneration never ended, he still had to be on guard. After all, the title of Winter Soldier wasn't given lightly; one second he might be crying like a lost child, and the next he could be pulling out a knife and stabbing someone.
Over there, Captain America remained crouched, neither rushing to pull anyone away nor saying much, simply watching Bucky.
Bucky's breathing gradually calmed down, his chest stopped heaving violently, and he completely released his hand from the weapon key, his five fingers spreading on the ice, stained with blood and melted water.
"I remember... Brooklyn," he suddenly began, his voice hoarse like sandpaper rubbing against sheet metal, "Winter, coal stove... you said roasted sweet potatoes cured colds."
Captain America's throat tightened, and he nodded. "You remember."
"You're lying." Bucky's lips twitched, barely a smile. "Sweet potatoes are hard enough to crack walnuts."
Captain America smiled, his eyes slightly moist. "Yes, I lied to you."
The two sat there, one squatting, the other slumped, separated by half a meter of icy ground, yet it felt as if they had traversed more than a decade of wind and snow.
Ye Mo watched this scene without saying a word, but quietly moved his right hand back, hiding it behind his back. The Regeneration was almost complete; his finger bones had just been set, and he still had to endure the pain when making a fist.
"Romantic scenes are fine, but don't make them too long," he muttered to himself. "I didn't buy accident insurance for these injuries."
Emma Frost scoffed, "If you were really afraid of pain, you wouldn't have rushed in to block the attack."
"It's not that I'm afraid of pain," Ye Mo glanced at her, "I'm afraid of having to go through a second round after the pain, that would be a losing proposition."
Emma Frost didn't reply; her gaze remained fixed on Bucky.
He slowly raised his face, his gaze no longer a blank scan, but now focused, settling on Captain America's face, confirming it inch by inch.
"Are you really?" he asked.
"I really am." Captain America reached out and gently touched his cheek. "You really are too."
Bucky blinked, and another tear rolled down his cheek, but this time it didn't fall to the ground; instead, it slid down his chin and into his collar.
He raised his hand, not to attack, but to touch his face, his movements awkward, like someone learning to use their fingers for the first time.
"Am I not a machine?" he asked again.
"You never were," Captain America's voice trembled. "You were James Buchanan Barnes, my best friend."
" Bucky..." he murmured, repeating his name as if trying to etch the two words back into his mind.
Then, he looked down at his robotic arm.
The metal casing was stained with blood, the heat dissipation vents were blackened, and the circuitry was exposed, clearly indicating that it was mostly ruined. He tried to move his fingers, but only a few clicking noises were produced.
"This..." he lowered his voice, "... it wasn't me."
"I know." Captain America grasped his other, still-mobile hand. "It can't control you. You're in control now."
Bucky didn't say anything, he just stared at the hand for a long time, so long that Ye Mo thought he would suddenly burst out and tear down the wall.
But he didn't.
He slowly lowered his hand, leaned back against the cold wall, as if finally stopping to catch his breath.
"I... killed many people." His voice was barely audible. "I don't remember their faces, but I remember the blood."
Captain America didn't deny it. "I know."
Will you... kill me?
"Won't."
"Why?"
"Because you must live to atone for your sins." Captain America looked at him, his eyes resolute. "And I believe in you."
Bucky remained silent for a long time.
So long that even Ye Mo couldn't help but want to speak up and smooth things over.
But just before he opened his mouth, Bucky moved.
He raised his only remaining left hand and tremblingly reached it out to Captain America.
Captain America immediately reached out and shook it.
His two hands were clasped together, one calloused and the other bearing the scars of neural interfaces left by brainwashing.
There were no hugs, no tears, just holding hands, as if confirming that they were still alive.
Ye Mo watched without saying a word, but quietly took his Regeneration right hand out from behind his back and flexed his fingers.
"Alright," he broke the silence, deliberately raising his voice, "If you two want to hug, wait until I'm out of the way. I don't want to be a third wheel."
Captain America turned and glared at him, but his smile had already softened.
Emma Frost also caught her breath, leaning against the wall, her mental strength finally stabilizing a bit.
"He's stabilized," she whispered to Ye Mo. "His emotional fluctuations are decreasing, and although the memory regression is chaotic, it's heading in the right direction."
"That's good." Ye Mo pushed himself up, his legs not buckling this time. "Otherwise, all these injuries wouldn't have resulted in a peaceful ending, how unfair would that be?"
He took two steps forward, not getting too close, but no longer hiding.
"Hey, Winter Soldier," he yelled at Bucky, "Next time we meet, don't pull out your knife at the drop of a hat. Can we talk for a bit first?"
Bucky turned to look at him, his eyes still a little dazed, but he could already recognize people.
"You... blocked my attack?" he asked.
"You bet." Ye Mo patted his chest. "This hoodie of mine is brand new, and you've already torn a hole in it."
"I'm sorry," Bucky said in a low but earnest voice.
"Oh my, so you know how to apologize now?" Ye Mo pretended to wipe away tears. "I'm so touched, I suggest recording it and playing it on repeat."
Emma Frost couldn't help but laugh out loud, but quickly suppressed it.
Captain America shook his head. "Can't you be serious for once?"
"I'm pretty serious," Ye Mo shrugged. "I even refrained from asking him, 'Do you remember the time you knocked me flying?'"
Bucky lowered his head, seemingly lost in thought.
"I remember... a red shield," he said slowly, "And... a black hoodie, and glasses."
"Oh?" Ye Mo raised an eyebrow. "You still remember when I was pretending to be refined?"
"You weren't wearing your glasses when you were knocked flying." Bucky looked up. "You landed terribly."
Ye Mo was taken aback for a moment, then laughed out loud, "Well, you dare to mock me as soon as you wake up? Looks like you really have come back to life."
The atmosphere immediately relaxed a bit.
It's not complete relaxation, but rather the feeling of a string that's been stretched for too long finally allowing itself to tremble a little.
Captain America remained kneeling, his hand still on Bucky's, but his vigilance hadn't waned. He knew this wasn't over yet—regaining consciousness didn't mean he was safe; the brainwashing program might pop up again at any moment.
"Can you stand up?" he asked.
Bucky tried, but his left leg was too weak and the robotic arm was broken, so he could only move by rubbing against the wall.
"Slow down," Captain America said, helping him up. "No rush."
Ye Mo stood three steps away, his right hand hidden behind his back. Although the Regeneration was complete, the cooldown notification was still flashing red in his mind, indicating that he could not use high-intensity abilities again for a short period of time.
"I said," he suddenly spoke up, "You two can catch up, but could you find somewhere else? This room is cold and damp, and my feet are going numb from standing here for so long."
Emma Frost rolled her eyes at him. "You just said you were hungry, and now you're complaining of being cold. Do you want me to conjure up a sofa for you?"
"If you could transform, I could fall asleep right now." Ye Mo yawned. "Anyway, I'm too tired to move."
Emma Frost ignored him and continued to monitor Bucky's condition.
He leaned on Captain America's shoulder and finally stood up a little straighter, though he swayed, he was able to hold on.
"I... I wasn't dreaming, was I?" he suddenly asked.
"It's not a dream," Captain America said. "You're awake. I'm here."
"Then don't go," Bucky's voice was almost inaudible, "Don't leave me again."
Captain America's eyes welled up with tears, and he nodded vigorously. "I'm not leaving, I'm not going anywhere."
Seeing this, Ye Mo stopped teasing and simply took a half step back to give his old friends some space.
He knew that some things were none of an outsider's business.
Emma Frost walked over to him and asked softly, "Are you alright?"
"It'll do." Ye Mo stretched his shoulders. "It's just the Regeneration backlash; it feels like someone's sawing my ribs back and forth."
"Bear with it," Emma Frost said calmly. "No one's forcing you to block the attack."
"I know," Ye Mo grinned, "But if I hadn't stopped you, you'd be collecting Captain America's corpse right now, and that wouldn't be good."
Emma Frost glanced at him, didn't say anything, but the corners of her mouth curled up slightly.
Inside the power distribution room, the ice continued to melt, and the sound of dripping water was rhythmic.
Captain America helped Bucky, and the two stood there, neither of them saying a word.
Ye Mo stood against the wall, his right hand hanging down. His Regeneration skin still had a pinkish tinge, like a freshly peeled egg.
No one moved, no one left, and no one mentioned the next step.
Let's stop here for now.