The Winter Soldier sat in the room. It wasn't quite a cell, there weren't bars, it was actually closer to an apartment with a bedroom, kitchenette, and living area. There used to be cameras but the Winter Soldier had destroyed them and no one wanted to be the one to replace them, so the cameras were no more. He had been in the room for two months and apart from daily questions and therapy, no one had given him a mission, so he didn't bother talking to them. He didn't talk to anyone. And it was nighttime, so no one would talk to him again until the morning.
The door opened – which was strange because no one tried to talk to the Winter Soldier during the evening and the door was coded with a lock that only a few people knew the code to, so no one should be entering.
However, a little boy entered and slammed the door shut behind him. He was a scrawny thing, the Winter Soldier wanted to say he was three but when the kid turned around he changed his assessment to no more than five, most likely four, his eyes intelligent.
"Hello," said the boy, blinking up at the Winter Soldier, head cocked to the side. "I'm Tony."
The Winter Soldier continued to study the boy silently.
"Dad says you're James Bucky Barnes but you don't remember," continued Tony. "He's mad because you won't talk to anyone but if you don't remember who you used to be then maybe you won't answer because you don't know they're talking to you."
The Winter Soldier furrowed his brow, confused by the little boy standing in front of the door.
"Can I call you Trean?" asked Tony. "It means strong in Irish. I speak Italian 'cause mom's Italian but I'm learning Irish because Captain America's mom was Irish and my dad loves Captain America."
The Winter Soldier turned away from the boy – Tony – and went back to his bed where he sat down. Tony followed him and stood a few feet away, hands twisting in the hem of his shirt.
"Trean was a stupid idea," muttered Tony. "Sorry. I'm always coming up with dumb ideas."
For a long time after that, no one said anything in the room. Tony looked around in interest but didn't comment and the Winter Soldier just watched, confused as to why the little kid wasn't afraid of him in the slightest.
"Well, I should go," said Tony after a while.
The Winter Soldier watched as the young kid went up to the door and jumped several times, pressing the code to leave into the keypad. The door clicked open and Tony slipped back out into the dark hall, leaving the assassin alone once again.
- In Charge of Weapons and Ammo –
After that night, Tony made a habit of visiting the Winter Soldier, often coming three or four times a week. It was always at night, always after most children were asleep, and always alone. The Winter Soldier didn't talk to the kid but that never seemed to deter Tony from talking to him. The kid was smart, far better spoken than most kids, and was not in the least scared of the assassin. The visits came to a head one night, though, when Tony burst into the room in tears, clambering onto the bed to curl into a little ball and cry.
"He hates me," cried Tony. "I knew he did but he – he said it in front of Uncle Obi and they l-laughed."
The Winter Soldier sat down next to the kid on his bed and said nothing.
"But – but that's n-not why I ca-ca-came here," gasped Tony, sitting up, trying to bring his crying under control. "He smashed his cup on my h-hand and I can't fix it."
The Winter Soldier looked down at the small hand being held out to him. It was bleeding heavily, a long jagged gash running down the center of the palm with smaller, less severe cuts along the sides. Tony was still crying but the sobs were missing and his breathing only hitched every minute or so, but the Winter Soldier had nothing to fix the hand with, so he just looked back at Tony.
"Please make it stop," whispered Tony, quickly pulling out a first aid kit he had dragged in with him.
"I'm not strong," grunted the Winter Soldier, taking the kit and starting to clean the wound. "I'm destructive. I'm Winter."
"Whatever Winnie," said Tony with a ghost of a smile, giggling in that way only small children could at their own not-funny jokes.
- In Charge of Weapons and Ammo –
The next time Tony entered the Winter Soldier's room with an injury, it was a broken arm and it was the middle of the day. The Winter Soldier raised an eyebrow in question at the child.
"Dad's home," said Tony, lower lip trembling. "He didn't find Captain America."
The Winter Soldier was about to answer when the door to his room burst open again.
"Where are you, you little shit?" demanded Howard Stark, looking a bit drunk and a lot angry. "I saw you come in here."
The Winter Soldier wrapped his metal arm around Howard's neck and lifted the man off the ground.
"We're leaving," said the Winter Soldier. "Tony's mine now. Try to take him and I'll destroy you."
Howard was a brave man – he had flown over enemy lines multiple times in the war, gone on countless dangerous excursions, faced down raging animals and humans alike, but when the Winter Soldier said he would destroy the millionaire – the tone so soft, emotionless, and devoid of threat – Howard couldn't nod fast enough.
"Take him," gasped Howard. "I won't look for you, just don't kill me."
The Winter Soldier threw Howard against the far wall, turned, and picked Tony up, holding the kid on his hip as he walked out of the still open door.
"He's going to be so mad," whispered Tony frantically. "Winnie, you have to go back. He's going to kill me if you leave. He already misses Captain America."
"Where's your room?" asked the Winter Soldier.
"Down the hall, two flights up, third door on the right," recited Tony as if he were reciting his address.
The Winter Soldier took them to Tony's room and quickly packed a bag of clothes for the kid while Tony waited on the bed, clutching a worn Captain America bear to his chest with his good hand. When the Winter Soldier was done, he came back, bag thrown over his shoulder, and picked Tony up again. They left the mansion through the window and Tony didn't even look back.
