In the Flesh- Pink Floyd
So ya
Thought ya
Might like to go to the show.
To feel the warm thrill of confusion
That space cadet glow.
Tell me is something eluding you, sunshine?
Is this not what you expected to see?
If you wanna find out what's behind these cold eyes
You'll just have to claw your way through this disguise.
His eyes opened and widened in panic as white light attacks his retinas. He went to jerk his hands up to hide his face, but despite his great strength he was unable to lift his arms due to the restraints wrapped around his body. They got him, Oh God they got him, and it will be so much worse now than it would have been if he had just reported in like he was supposed to, if he had just accepted that he would never be human, that he was incapable of making decisions for himself, that he should have just killed Steve on the helicarrier instead of saving him… But He had known him, not just recognized him, but known him.
They must be getting ready to wipe him. He can hear their voices all around, though he isn't processing there words, it's all just noise, beeping machines, too loud. A whimper catches in the back of his throat. He feels a hand come down on his shoulder and he stiffens- he's not ready, he will never be ready, never has been ready, to do this again. Though his eyes are scrunched tight against the light he can feel someone staring at his face.
"Jarvis?" The lights dim to a low glow. He blinks up, staring into an almost familiar face. Something about the point in the chin, the shape, sharpness in the blue eyes, is familiar too. He probably wiped him before, that's why he's struggling to remember. He struggles against the restraints harder now that he concentrate and see.
"Whoa… you're okay, James." James? He stops struggling because it is still useless and studies the man again. He is shorter than the Soldier, but not by much, muscular. He wears a faded dark shirt and jeans. Beneath the thin cotton a blue light glows on his chest. The man has stepped back to the foot of the bed, appraising him more. He's thinking hard, chin resting on his fist as he touches his goatee.
"Can you understand me, James?" He asks slowly, carefully. He still hasn't moved.
"I'm not James," The Soldier says. It's not what the man asked, but it demonstrates comprehension. Besides, this man is not his handler. He doesn't need to comply completely in answering his stupid questions.
"Alright, what do you want to be called?" The Soldier scoffs and turns his head. He has not fallen for trick in a very, very long time. It strikes him that there is a pillow supporting him. That is not usually protocol. "My name is Tony Stark, you're in New York, in the Avengers Tower." Stark is speaking annoyingly slow. His cautiousness is making the Solider more nervous. Why is he afraid? Just wipe me and be done with it, he thinks. Now that it and his punishment for failing to kill Captain America are inevitable he just wants it over with. He chokes down another whimper biting down on his back teeth and staring at the ceiling. "Are you in pain?" Stark's voice sounds concerned and he moves forward then, to the side of the table. Looking up at him from below somehow makes his heart race.
Is this a technician instead? Is something wrong with his arm? Oh No, is he in need of another upgrade? His heart stutters at the thought of that. No no no. He looks down in panic, more panic when his metal arm doesn't react when he wishes it too. He other arm is in a brace. What the Hell? He looks up at stark in confusion, but answers the question as directed.
"I am not in pain." He doesn't ask his questions because that is something that he is never allowed to do.
Stark indicates his non-metal arm, "We fixed your broken arm" - as if the Soldier hadn't realized that. "I disabled your other one. Couldn't have you trying to use it to kill anyone right off the bat. Don't worry, I can fix it later." Stark has begun slowly pacing as he talks, but the soldier does not want to listen, and he doesn't feel as though he was ordered to pay attention, so he lets his mind wander as the man babbles.
"…and Steve is here too, but… well, we thought it would be best if you met someone who you hadn't tried to kill first."
"Steve?" The Soldier speaks without thinking and snaps his mouth shut, eyes wide.
"Yeah, him and Sam are the ones who brought you in. You needed some undercover medical work, and I guess they thought Stark Enterprises could provide the best care." His face looked annoyingly smug and then sobered. "You tried to kill Sam too- and that's why I get to be the test dummy." The soldier doesn't know what to say to that.
"Would you like to see Steve?" The soldier doesn't really know but nods anyway.
It's almost immediate, the sound of a door opening- and then- He's there.