The Director's Daughter

by InfinityGeek

Clearly, the Winter Soldier wasn't as cruel as he could have been. Somebody had to break his armor. The question was, who? Well, what about Director Pierce's adopted daughter? She was kept a secret from both S.H.I.E.L.D. and the rest of his acquaintances, but when she snuck out one night, the Winter Soldier's assigned to keep a constant watch on her. What will she help him realize?

Director Pierce tapped on his daughter's door, shouldering it open when she failed to answer. A young girl aged 13 years old sprang up, facing him. "What now, Father?" she groaned. "I decided that, given your recent. . .escapades. . .you needed a supervisor. He'll arrive shortly -" "A babysitter?! No way, Dad! Oh my gosh! I'm thirteen! I can handle myself!" she yelled. "Izzy, please, just listen -" "So I snuck out once! Big deal!" she complained. A buzz sounded over the Director's phone. He flipped it open. "He's here. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." "But -" "No buts, young lady!" he yelled, and stomped out. A shadow slipped in after him, solidifying into a man with ratty brown hair, brown eyes, and a metal arm. He was clothed in black, which didn't make him any less threatening. "Oh, great! I should've known it would be one of Dad's assassins. That way, if anyone tries to attack me, you'll dispose of them?" Izzy snarked.

The man sighed and detached himself from the wall. "I'm well trained, yes. I've been assigned to protect you -" "And to keep me from sneaking out," she interrupted. "Yes." "I've been studying you." He stiffened. "You're known as the Winter Soldier. You get in, kill whoever you were assigned, get out, leave no trace. It's almost supernatural. However, you don't have any unnecessary casualties. You could kill people, but you don't. If you were as cold-hearted as others believed you would have killed them. Still, you didn't. So I did some more research. It appears your. . .interesting appendage is the result of the original being ripped off from a fall off a cliff. I went and checked. . .there was dried blood on the rocks. It was about, oh, seventy years old, give or take."

The Winter Soldier staggered. "How did you come by this information?" "I have a secret, very informative web, not unlike yourself. I'm connected to the Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra, and a few others. Now, my curiosity was piqued by you, so I dug even deeper. Turns out, a man fell off of a train seventy years ago. His name was James Buchanan Barnes. He was best friends with Steven Rogers, or Captain America." The Winter Soldier flinched. "No. . ." "What?" She sat up straighter. "The man I faced today, at the bridge. . .He was Captain America." "There's a whole wing about you at the Smithsonian Museum. Bucky Barnes, I mean. You should go check it out." He nodded mutely. "Good night." Izzy climbed into bed. "Good night," he reluctantly replied, slipping out of the room.

Isabelle woke up screaming. She heard pounding feet in the hall, and the Winter Soldier burst in. It had been a few months since he'd been assigned to her, and they'd each begun to care for the other. "Are you okay?" he asked her, coming to a stop beside her bed. "Yeah, yeah. Just a nightmare," she replied shakily. His shoulders relaxed, and he began to leave. "Wait. Bucky. . .can you stay with me?" she whispered. He tensed again. "Of. . .course," he answered, and crawled into bed. Izzy pressed her body against his, absorbing his warmth. She even went so far as to take his metal arm and drape it across her stomach. Her breathing evened out, falling into sleep. Against his nature, he smiled.

The Winter Soldier tramped in. "I have to be your bodyguard for today. I hope you won't be much trouble." "Is that a threat, Bucky?" Izzy asked. "I thought we were past that stage." "I don't remember meeting you before." "Wait. . .no. No, no, no!" she screamed. She ran to her laptop and pulled up footage. "Is this you?" she gritted out, gesturing to a face on the screen. The time in the corner read 10:02 P.M., Dec. 17, 2014. "Yes, but why am I strapped -" "Mission report." Director Pierce's voice was quiet but firm, and Isabelle cranked up the volume. The Winter Soldier on the screen remained silent, staring into space. In a slightly more forceful tone, Director Pierce ordered, "Mission report, now." Still, the Winter Soldier remained quiet. Director Pierce stalked over, crouched down so he was level with him, and slapped him. The Winter Soldier's head snapped to the side, and he breathed hard. He looked back up, his eyes empty, filled with regret. With confusion, sadness, and even a little bit of hope in his eyes, he rasped, "The man on the bridge. Who was he?"

The real-time Winter Soldier interrupted. Izzy quickly paused the playback. "I. . .I don't understand. I don't recall any of this." Izzy leaned back, tilting the Winter Soldier's head up to look at her. "Listen, I can't explain it all, but this security footage explains plenty. Please, just watch and hear me out." He nodded reluctantly and sat back. She pressed play.

Pierce looked away quickly, then stiffly replied, "You met him earlier this week on another assignment." The Winter Soldier looked down, deep in thought. In a gravelly undertone, he whispered, "I knew him." Director Pierce looked down, disappointed. He sat down, breathed in, and started, "Your work has been a gift to mankind. You've shaped the century. And I need you to do it one more time. Society's at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we're gonna give it a push. But if you don't do your part, I can't do mine." The Winter Soldier swallowed hard and looked guilty. "Then Hydra can't give the world the freedom it deserves." The Winter Soldier cocked his head up, anguish in his eyes. "But I knew him." His lips pressed themselves into a grim smile before returning to their default line. Director Pierce sat back and looked only slightly annoyed. He nodded slowly. He growled, "Prep him." A nearby scientist replied, "He's been out of cryo for too long." Pierce turned and answered, "Then wipe him and start over." The Winter Soldier's eyes filled with sadness and just a little fear. He was shoved back into his chair, given a mouthpiece, and a helmet was closed over his head. He began to scream and writhe, and the feed cut out there.

"I don't understand. The Director would never -" "He would, and you know it." Izzy pulled out a few cords and wires. "I think I've got a way to recover your memories. It might hurt a little." His mouth formed that grim little smile again. "I think after what I've just witnessed, I can handle a little pinch." She hooked up the wires to his head, needles pressing into his skull. A steady flow, like water, seeped into his brain, the stream returning his memories. "I. . .remember. Izzy. . ." She placed his hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up. "Shut up and go find Steve, you big idiot." He nodded and swung himself out the window. She laughed.