- Happens during the events of Captain America : The Winter Soldier, may differ a bit -

- Disclaimer : I don't own anything but my OCs, everything belongs to Marvel -

- I am not a native speaker, so there will be some awkward phrases -

- Warning : this story contains numerous description of physical and psychological pain happening to the main character, if you are of a sensitive nature (which is perfectly fine), please be aware of that -

ASSET : LONGING & RUSTED

''Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace, Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freight Car.''

"Желание. Ржавый. Семнадцать. Рассвет. Печь. Девять. Добросердечный. Возвращение на Родину. Один. Товарный вагон?''

Chapter 1 : the Waking

"Hi Sally." Said an armed man while entering the cold room.

"Hi there Stephen. Here for the Asset ?" Answered the petite blonde nurse.

"Yep, icecube's got a mission. Could you call Dr Gerhardt and Dr Deschamps ? He needs full check-up, order from above."

"Yeah sure, right away."

The nurse sat to her desk and dialled the first number. Stephen had to make sure she phoned the right people, it was protocol, they were both used to it. The blonde invited him to sit down on a corner of his desk, which he did with a bit of trouble, trying to find a comfortable way to rest in his anti-riot-like black suit, his helmet tight around his head, his rifle at his side. The ringing kept on going...

"So, how was your week end ?" asked Stephen as nobody was answering right away.

"Oh my, it was great, we had my sister and her kids over for Jenny's eighth birthday. Mike's parents were here too."

"Oh, little Jenny is eight already ? They grow up so fast, don't they ?"

"Yes, they do... How is your son Kent ?"

"He's doing great ! He actually made it into college !"

"Oh, really ?"

"Yeah, he got a football grant. Mary and I were actually worried that this kid wouldn't go that far."

"Oh, no, Kent is a clever boy. What about your elder, Tony ?"

"Well you know, this one doesn't work with school so much. He got an apprenticeship at a garage, and he's happy about it."

"Oh, that is just great you know. Are you coming to the meeting at 1pm ?"

"About the pension of class two employees ? Yeah, in what room ?"

"The lunch room."

"All right... not answering ?"

Sally hung up the phone, and dialled another number.

"Nah, I'll try with Dr Deschamps. "

The ringing stopped after two, and a charming voice with a French accent answered :

"Dr Deschamps speaking."

"Hello Doctor, this is Sally from ISFB, a mission has been set up, full check-up is needed."

"I'll be there. Please phone my interns as well."

"I'll do Ma'am."

Sally and Stephen kept on going on their conversation between the phone calls. Once everybody had been informed, Stephen left his colleague with a smile and a ''see you at one''. Thirty minutes later, the six trainees in their lab coats were in the Lab room. The trainees were revising their notes and reciting the protocol to each other, while their supervisors were running a bit late. They were standing next to the impressive machine, in the centre of which was a leaning chair. The cover of the chair had been changed several times already, but this one still had stains of sweat and blood from the last seance. It was surrounded by screens and operating pads, and one of the young lab coats had brought forward a large metal piece of furniture on wheels, and had conveniently placed tools and electrical elements, ready for use. The agent was the first to step in the large room. Agent Brock Rumlow had short dark brown hair, and was wearing his black tactical gear, two guns in his back, his fighting gloves on, ready to fight. He stepped between the silent youngs and looked around ?

" Where are Gerhardt and Deschamps ?"

They all gathered together, intimidated by the man, his large shoulders and his guns. After all, they were only lab students.

"C'mon you all, where are they ? And where is the Asset ?"

The bravest of them shyly stepped forward, and still without looking at the Agent, he answered :

"None of them is here, yet..."

Rumlow turned around in rage, and took out his radio from his belt. He pressed the button and yelled in it :

"Where is the asset ?!"

"Asset on the way sir." answered a male voice.

"And the doctors ?!"

"Doctors on the way sir."

Rumlow rolled his eyes and sighed, it was not the first time he was the first present, and he particularly hated late people. After two minutes, his second in command Jack Rollins came in the room, followed by three men carrying on their shoulders another man, who seemed unconscious, and two women in lab coats. The first one, Doctor Claire Deschamps, was tall and blonde, her flat hair tied back in a high ponytail with a fluffy pink scrunchie. She had a cheerful face, as always, and was chatting with her brunette friend and colleague. Doctor Wilhelmina Gerhardt was quite the opposite of Claire. She had her dark hair up in a chignon, from which she fashionably always let some strands of hair fall around her face. She had a light make up : a bit of mascara and a discreet red lipstick. She always looked more or less stern, but smiled easily to those she liked.

"There you are !" grunted Rumlow. "You know this mission is important, right ?"

"Just like any other." answered Dr Gerhardt, not letting the fumes of the Agent affect her.

She indicated the seat to the armed men, and they put the unconscious man on it. Gerhardt waved a finger at the young lab coats, and they finally moved, still without a word, their notes back in their pockets.

"Tie him up, and so they can launch the waking sequence." ordered Deschamps, reviewing rapidly her table with tools.

The two doctors put on plastic gloves, while their trainees were fumbling around the unconscious man.

"Could you speed up a little ?" snapped Agent Rumlow.

Deschamps and Gerhardt shared an understanding look. Every time they had to wake up the Asset, Rumlow would get nervous because they wouldn't go as fast as he would like them to. Gerhardt rolled her eyes and turned to the Agent :

"If you can do it yourself, then please do." she insisted with an unimpressed face. "Maybe your military experience is better than my PHDs in Neurosciences and Physiology."

"And my Engineering PHD." added Deschamps with a smile.

Rumlow turned around and left the room raging, ordering his second Rollins to warn him as soon as the Asset would be awake. The doctors couldn't help but snort a little, they were used to it, and it was their guilty pleasure to put him back in his place once in a while. As they were used to operate, Deschamps and one of her trainees were at the left of the chair, while Gerhardt and one of hers were at the right. The man was lying unconscious in the middle, metal cuffs locking him in the chair at his neck, torso, upper and lower arms, wrists, thighs, calves, and ankles. The man had a very fit body, sculpted by hours and hours of fighting training. However, he had a pale and scarred skin, as cold as ice. His pallid chest rose very slowly from the beginning of a respiration. He was just wearing a soaking wet old grey joggers pants, and he was bare feet. His dark hair fell to his shoulders, and he had a slight beard from last mission. His lips were blue, and there were dark circles around his eyes. His left shoulder had long purple scars that ran to its neck. To it was attached a metal arm, a work of art of engineering and technology, probably too advanced for this decade. On the side of the metal shoulder, a red star was painted, the size of a small hand. A small sport had been erased, and after seeing this, Deschamps took out the jar of red liquid metallic paint.

"Okay, Mady, where is the medical file ?" Called Gerhardt.

"Here doctor." answered the trainee.

"All right."

The dark-haired woman opened the paper file, on which was written in English, German, and Russian ''Asset : Winter Soldier''. She ran through the notes of the last seance of last week, when they had put him back into the cryostasis chamber. She read thoroughly every line, her eyes narrowed by the concentration. She turned the pages in silence, while everybody seemed to wait for her. She turned the last few pages, and finally said to her interns :

"Okay, let's go. Hook him up, heart monitor and brain activity first. And turn on the 3D brain scanner, I want to see everything. You have one minute and thirty seconds."

Her three trainees moved quickly, it was not their first time, and each time Gerhardt would reduce the time to push them to do their best. The physiologist took out her stethoscope from her pocket, and listened to the heart, nodding in silence.

"Heart is slowly back with us. Lungs sound good so far."

She then checked the eyes. Electrodes were fixed on the unconscious man's chest to monitor his heart, and two long robotic arms were placed alongside his temples, locking his head.

"Irises responding to light stimulation in a perfect way, no brain damage due to cryostasis that we can see so far."

"Brain scanner ma'am."

Gerhardt turned to the screens, and analyzed the 3D image of her patient's brain. She made it turn by sliding her finger on the screen. She took another minute to make sure everything was in order.

"Charles, blood test. Finnick, general scanner on screen two."

Finnick, a young redhead man with the face of a boy went behind the leaning chair and turned on the scanner that stood above the man, while Charles, a blonde short man of almost thirty sampled blood from the non-metal arm of the man. He plugged the blood sample into a device attached to his tablet, and launched the search. Gerhardt could see the Asset's entire body through the scans now. She switched between skeleton and muscles several times, and without turning away from the screen and her detailing, she called :

"Charles, blood ?"

"In a second Ma'am... Here."

He taped on one corner of his screen, and the results appeared before her. She also read them thoroughly, and frowned at page two. Deschamps knew well every little face her friend Wilhelmina could pull, and asked her if something was wrong. She had not started her part yet, and was patiently waiting for Wilhelmina to allow her. Her tools were lined on the table behind her, her interns ready to hand out to her anything she could ask for.

"Hmmm..." answered Gerhardt, lost in her analyzing.

Deschamps let her ten more seconds before she couldn't help but asking with her happy face, as always :

"So what ?"

"Hmmm... His iron is a bit low, lower than usual, so is his calcium. Mady, IV lines for both."

Rollins stepped forward, his rifle ready. All the soldiers and the security guards would leave a safe space for the Lab crew to work. Rollins stood at the unconscious man's feet.

"Something wrong ?" he asked in a taut voice.

"Yes, I think that the subject is harder to wake up, seance after seance. "

"Something you can fix ?"

Rollins was always nice to Wilhelmina and Claire. He did not have his commander's temper, and was genuinely interested in what they were doing, not only keeping an eye on the Asset. Wilhelmina did smile, even if she did not turn to address to him because she was carefully watching the heart rate. He saw that, and smiled too.

"Jack, please, give me some credit." she snorted with affection. "By the time it'll be back I'll have that little problem figured out. For now it should be operational."

Rollins laughed a little, and went back to his spot, letting the interns work around the man. Gerhardt read the heart monitor, and asked her two interns to stand behind the chair, while she was watching the screens.

"Okay let's go. Launch solution one, in three, two, one..."

At the signal, Charles pushed the first piston of the three syringes above the man, tubed into his neck. The vital signs were steady, and the brain activity was making significant progress.

"Launch solution two in three, two, one..."

Finnick pushed the second piston. The solution slid from the syringe, through the tube, into the man's neck. The heart went up to a satisfying rate.

"Okay, now launch solution three in three, two, one..."

Charles pressed the last piston, and the grey-ish liquid poured down the tube.

"Ma'am..." said Mady as she was inserting the needle of the IV line into the slowly waking man's flesh arm.

"Yep, I saw."

"Is this my turn ?" cheerfully asked Deschamps.

"No, let me be sure it is in a good shape first."

She leaned over the man painfully opening his eyelids. He grunted weakly. She listened again to his heart as she was watching the heart monitor to be sure the detailing matched, and that it was satisfying enough. She put her stethoscope back in her pocket and smiled at her colleague :

"It's waking up. We'll keep monitoring brain activity and vital signs. Impulse should be operational in the arm, you guys can go."

Deschamps let out a silent ''yes !'', and stood up. One of her young lab students put away the chair she was sitting on. Deschamps activated a hidden knob, and a panel opened at the back of the upper arm. With her gloved hands she made the arm turn in the cuffs to get a better view, and the man moaned with pain and discomfort. Deschamps did not pay any attention, as everyone in the room. The interns were too busy providing the doctors what they wanted, and the doctors were doing their science.

"Uh, great..." ranted Deschamps.

"What ?" asked Gerhardt, her eyes still focusing on the 3D brain scanner she was analyzing under every angle.

"This whole motherboard is wasted. Someone didn't close it well last week."

She turned to her group of interns and detailed them with narrowed eyes who seemed to ask ''who did this?''. One of them, the girl, painfully hoped her hand up, and from a nod of her head, Deschamps indicated her the door. The girl swallowed her tears and left the room without a word. The Doctor took out the whole motherboard and threw it on the table. One of her trainees threw it away while the other was handing out to her the first new components. Deschamps put her magnifying glasses on her nose, and started her work.

"Capacitors."

The trainee obliged without a word. The room was silent, if it wasn't for the clinking of Deschamps' instruments and the occasional pen scratches from Gerhardt who was filling another report. The man winced silently, his eyes still seemingly blurry. Mady came up to him and took out her light, with which she analyzed the blue irises. The man was taken by surprise and would have turned his head away, but he couldn't move an inch. He could only clench his jaw from the blinding light the young intern was imposing him. She let go after a few seconds, and checked the monitors above him. His head was turning, his mouth was dry. His whole body was cold as a stone. He was shaking. He was aching in every inch of his muscles. He felt uncomfortable in the wet joggers pants he was wearing.

"Pl... Pl..." he tried.

Gerhardt stood up and went behind him to verify the monitors, and Deschamps was silently working at his left.

His mouth was too dry, his throat too sore, and his vocal chords unable to produce any sound yet. Something was pushed in his arm and a sudden spasm of pain ran through his body, his muscles tensed, his fists closed hard on what they could find. But only his right fist. He could not feel beyond his left shoulder. Not yet.

"Uhhh!... Uhh!..."

Nothing but a husky breath could come out of his mouth. He followed the white spots walking around him with his blurry vision, trying to call for help with his eyes. He tried to move his feet but the cuff restraining his right ankle pressed against his bone and cut his skin.

"Uhhh!... uhhh..."

Deschamps looked up from the motherboard she was rebuilding from scratch.

"You know this little Italian restaurant on main street ?"

Wilhelmina gave a quick look at her friend :

"Hmm, no."

"I went there the other day with Danny. We had a great date night."

He still had no feeling in his left shoulder and arm. He managed to look at it, and it came back to him. His metal arm. But he couldn't feel a thing. Not yet. He blinked. Once, twice. His vision was coming back around, slowly. A blonde woman was leaned over his metal shoulder, her head tilted up to speak to the dark-haired woman at his right. He could barely hear now, only muffled sounds and indistinct voices. The leather armchair felt rash on his naked skin. The cuffs were tight, he could barely move a finger.

"Uhh..." he tried one more time.

"You should come with us next time Mina."

"And be the third wheel ? No thanks."

"Lady, you won't be young and gorgeous forever. You need to hook some man if you want to be invited to our great date nights. I plan the greatest double date nights ever, remember ?"

"Last time I went to double date night with you, the guy had sex with the bartender in the back alley."

Claire shook her head laughing and looked down on her work again.

The man tried to push his right shoulder upwards to make the cuffs move a bit, but nothing he could do would make the thick metal move. He could finally feel his toes. He was cold. It was cold in here. He coughed a bit with the little saliva he had manage to generate. He tried again.

"Ple... plea..."

"Rollins, tell her to get a man." pleaded Claire.

"Doctor, get a man." the soldier gladly obeyed with a grin.

Wilhelmina rolled her eyes with a smile. She handed a page to Charles he had to fill in with temperatures fluctuations. She looked up to another screen.

"Brain activity is normal. Language area all clear. Vision, coordination, speech, smell, hearing, motor control, touch and pressure, body awareness, problem solving areas all clear as well. Facial recognition activated at 3%. Finnick, when at 10%, inject solution number six."

"Yes ma'am."

"Uhhh!... Uh-..."

"Or the new Korean restaurant, just a block away from your mom's." proposed Claire.

"Memory at 25%. Finnick, inject solution number eight to keep it down at 20%."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Mina ! Korean !"

He was cold. He was so cold, he felt like he was drowning in a bath of ice, the freezing spikes piercing his skin. However, he didn't know what they were injecting him, but it made the inside of his head burn. He started to wince, and a half-voiced cry of pain made its way out of his lungs.

"I don't like Korean, you know that."

"Oh yeah ? And since when ? Last time you loved the kimchi I made you."

"Uhh!... Uhhh!..."

"It was because it didn't taste like kimchi."

"You're such a liar, I'm sure you love it."

"Memory down at 20% ma'am."

"Thank you Charles."

"Resistance number forty... Thank you."

He blinked. Again, and again, his mouth open to a void from which no sound could ever get out, or so it seemed. He contracted the muscles from his legs and right arm. The cuffs where tight and one cut his skin on his upper arm.

"Then what do you like ?"

"Uhhh... Uhh!..."

"Italian is good. But not with Danny."

"So... girls night ?"

"Maybe..."

"Are you keeping my fiancé out of this ?"

"I'm totally keeping your fiancé out of this."

"Doctor, subject is bleeding."

"Okay. Would you get me the results of brain activity from last minute ?"

"Right away Ma'am."

He opened his mouth and pushed on his abdomen to let any sound come out. Nothing but a weak breathe-out. He clenched his jaws with frustration. His hearing was almost to its full capacity now.

A radio buzzed in the room. He looked where the noise came from. Rollins took out his radio and pressed the button.

"Lab here... Still not done... Yes commander."

Rollins put his radio back in his belt.

"Pierce and Colonel Karpov are coming to activate the Asset. Are you done ?"

"In a minute !" answered Deschamps.

The women quickened their pace. A soldier has come forth with the asset's gear and mask, and put them on the floor, a metre away from the chair. They were all almost ready. Gerhardt finished filling this report, and checked herself the irises.

He was blinded. Again. For a few seconds. Then the light finally stopped. He looked at her with pleading eyes, but she payed no attention to his face.

"Wa... wat..."

She took off the robotic arms that were around his head, while Deschamps was interlocking the brand new motherboard into his arm.

He tried to yell in pain when the electric impulse ran through his arm to his head like a lightning bolt. Once. Twice. Then it was done. He could feel his left shoulder and arm, again.

She closed the panel and made sure it was safely shut.

He tensed his muscles, and the fingers responded. He could feel the leather under his cold metallic palm, the harshness of it, and the scratches somehow he knew he had made.

"Wa... water..."

Finnick faced his supervisor :

"He is probably dehydrated, and he needs to be in shape for talking."

Gerhardt raised her eyes from her report, and considered her intern for a second. She approved with a nod and he went to fetch a glass of water and a straw. The man sipped with despair, he was so thirsty. He had emptied the glass, and uttered :

"More... more..."

That is when the door slammed open, Agent Rumlow at the head of the group of newcomers, followed by a few soldiers in anti-riot-like gear, rifles and guns ready to be used.

The man tried one more time to catch the redhead's eyes but the latter stood silently next to the machine. He reported his attention on the men that just came in.

Armed men. He couldn't tell how much, but more than twenty that was for sure. And an old man with blonde hair in a three-pieces grey suit stepped up to him. He took off his glasses to take a better look at him.

"Is he awake ?" he asked with an authoritarian voice.

"And ready to obey, Mister Pierce." answered Gerhardt, her hands in her pockets.

Alexander Pierce sat by the side of the man. He detailed him with a ferocious smile. He handed out his hand, and let his fingers slid against the metal arm.

The man felt the warm rippled skin. He frowned.

"The advances in technology and medicine in this facility are... still really impressive. Doctor ?"

Gerhardt stepped up.

"Yes sir ?"

"Colonel Karpov had to turn around to manage another issue. Will you activate the soldier ?

"Sure."

For the first time he had opened his eyes, the dark-haired doctor turned to him, and looked at him straight in his eyes, as if she had suddenly noticed he was here. He could stand her hard black gaze. He felt it was not the first time he did.

"Zhelanie."

The first work shook him. His mouth twitched.

"Rzhaviy."

He didn't understand. His head fell back on the chair's head rest and another spasm ran through his limbs.

"Semnatsit. Rassvet. Pyetch."

His metal fist tried to force his way out of the cuff, but still couldn't.

"Deviyt. Dobraserdetchniy. Vozrashtshenie na radnu"

A terrible pain trapped his head like a wolf trying to claw his way out of his skull. The man couldn't help but yell in pain at the top of his lungs, pushing against the cuffs in vain.

"Adin"

The spasm shook his head, then his chest and arms, and his entire body.

"Tavarniy vagon."

The Soldier opened his eyes. In front of him was standing Alexander Pierce, whose words he had to follow. Behind him, Agent Rumlow, whose orders he had to obey.

"New mission for you, Soldier", announced Pierce. "Uncuff him."

Deschamps made a sign to the young lab coats. They gathered around the Soldier. They removed the electrodes on his chest, and the IV lines in his arm. Then, they pressed the buttons, and the cuffs slid away. All the thirty soldiers present raised their guns to aim at the man, ready to shoot him, in case he would try anything their boss wouldn't like.

"Stand", commanded Pierce.

His empty eyes looking at the ground, the Soldier leaned on the arm rests, and stood straight in front of the numerous soldiers aiming directly at him, in his dripping wet jog pants. His head felt heavy. His respiration was slow and deep.

"Undress", ordered Pierce, pointing at the clothes on the floor just a metre away from him.

The man took a second, his eyes narrowed at the dark pile. His mind was dark too. Just dark. He looked up at Pierce for a second, and a feeling of authority ran through his brain. He looked at Rumlow, and the feeling of violence twitched his bottom lip. He looked at the dark-haired woman's grim face, and the feeling of pain tensed his spine. He looked away, afraid that the pain would come, not only the feeling of it.

"Soldier, obey !" barked Pierce.

He looked down at the pile of clothes. Then he knew what he was supposed to do. He pinched the elastic of his jog pants between his flesh and metal fingers, and let it slide along his legs. Naked, his pants down to his ankles, the Soldier knew he had to wait now. The air was cold, and his pallid body shivered. Pierce made a sign at Dr Gerhardt :

"As the protocol says, last physical exam."

Dr Gerhardt, her face as neutral as usual, took out her stethoscope. She stuck the cold bit between his shoulder blades. The cold touch was disagreeable to him, but he didn't show it. She listened for a few inspirations, then listened again to his heart for thirty seconds. She palpated the muscles of his arm, back, abdomen, and legs. Her intern handed out to her a small device with a needle at the end, that she stuck into the man's side, and waited for the results, in absolute silence, aimed at by every weapon in this room.

It hurt him. The needle hurt him. But he didn't move, his eyes as empty as his mind, his mouth slightly opened. His eyes were going from one rifle to another. They conveyed a feeling of pain too, and of violence, and the usual iron taste and smell of blood seemed to fill his mouth and nose. He was used to hurting. It was never agreeable, but it wasn't new.

The device beeped. Gerhardt read the results, then put the device back in her pocket, leaving a small red point under the man's rib. She turned to Pierce.

"Heart, lungs, muscles, and blood all clear, sir", she assured with a monotonous tone.

"Fine, you may leave, doctors."

Deschamps and Gerhardt left the premises without another word. The interns were silently putting everything away and throwing away what needed to be. Then they left the room like ghosts. Alexander Pierce looked straight at the naked man with the blank face standing in front of him.

"We have your next target. Captain Steve Rogers."

Hey everyone ! Thank you so much for reading this first chapter !

I hope you enjoyed it, there will be another chapter soon. I always write a few chapters in advance so I have extra time to proofread storyline and grammar/vocab. I have two other ff works in writing plus some personnal projects, plus a memoire, so I won't be able to update every week :/. I usually update every three/four weeks tops.

Anyway ! Please consider following/fave' so you will be told as soon as the next chapter will come out ! Please review, I'd absolutely love to hear what you guys think of it, and how I could make this better ! Any suggestion or critique is good !

See you guys soon °(^_^)° !