History does not know much about James Buchanan Barnes.

Biographies about Captain America mention him during the chapter on Steve Rogers' childhood – Barnes just shows up in 1927 as the son of Sarah Rogers' friend but there is little else about him. It is universally decided he must be an illegitimate son discarded to conserve resources and so Sarah Rogers took him in because Captain America's mother was a saint.

History does know that Barnes was a gifted soldier, an extremely talented sniper with a record kill count, quite the charmer, and had a Spotted Camel cricket named Samale as a daemon.

(History is written so that Captain America's first mission was sanctioned, and history does not record that Captain America went on a rampage of revenge after Barnes fell. And history does not mention that it seemed like part of Steve Rogers' soul died with Barnes.)

Of course, neither Fresia nor Fred accompanies Steve on his missions with the Commandos. The propaganda machine works wonders, though, because there is always a bald eagle daemon ready for pictures and to perch majestically on his shoulder during interviews.

Bucky is always at his shoulder, too, tin tucked into his pocket, and keeping things light by joking, even when there's dirt and blood under his nails, and Steve wants to wrap them both up in blankets somewhere away from battle and death but he can't, he can't, he can't.

Today, Bucky lets the interview get almost to the end before interrupting with that charmer's grin, "Can you believe this lunkhead's my friend?" he asks the cameraman.

The journalist glares at him but the cameraman actually laughs, and so do the surrounding men.

More importantly, though, so does Steve.

After the Commandoes are formed, Dum Dum notices that Bucky never talks to Sammy again; he never asks because Fiona tells him it's not his business and curls up beside Bucky sometimes, even though it should be taboo.

Sometimes, Gabe thinks that something's not quite right between Sarge and Cap, but Vesta tells him it's not his concern and he knows they're both the best men he's ever known so he decides to ignore it.

Jacques asks Aurore once, "Have you ever spoken to Buchiel or Samale?" because though they have never seen Steve and Bucky's daemons, they know their names; Aurore laughs at him.

Jim notices that sometimes Yuki perches on Sarge's shoulder but he also remembers watching Sarge get dragged away to the isolation ward so he never makes a fuss about it.

Once, Betsy tells Monty that Barnes is such a poor boy but when he tries to gather further information, she turns away.

After Steve follows Bucky down, the boys toast Steve, Bucky, Buchiel, and Samale; Fiona, Vesta, Aurore, Yuki, and Betsy spend the night curled up together and whispering about what a silly daemon Buchiel had been, but, "I'll miss him," Fiona admits, and the rest all agree that the world's a little dimmer with him and his human gone.

Bucky falls. Don't you dare, Stevie, don't you dare, he shouts as loudly as he can, and Steve –

Steve doesn't jump after him.

He never forgives himself.

.

Part of Steve never believes Bucky faded into Dust.

When the mask falls off the Winter Soldier, he has new reasons to hate himself.

Steve? Stevie?

Everything hurts and he's cold and the bond –

Stevie!

He tries following it to Steve but Steve isn't –

... Steve?

There's nothing but pain and blood on the snow (how is he bleeding? he shouldn't be bleeding) and cold cold cold.

It comes out, of course, that Captain America's daemon was not actually a bald eagle named Fresia. The propaganda falls apart when Timothy Dugan is asked about the Captain's daemon, if he has any stories he can share, and his bulldog daemon Fiona snorts.

Dugan says, "No, I ain't got no stories about Fresia the bald eagle because she never existed. Steve's daemon was Buchiel and he was awful protective of the little guy." Dugan shrugs. "All I know is that he was a spider."

"A grass spider," Fiona adds, looking up at Dugan. "And he was nice."

The asset is a most efficient tool: it never hungers, thirsts, tires, malfunctions due to pain (the asset does not feel pain).

The asset has no daemon; the asset has no soul. Daemons flinch from the asset; humans stare in horror, not only because it is their death come.

("Sergeant Barnes, where is your daemon?" Cold hands on his face, turning his head, down his body – he cringed back and back and back. "Interesting," the little doctor said.)

"You have known something since we first acquired the asset," Arnim tells Amalyn.

The asset is his masterpiece, his finest work, and that Amalyn would keep secrets this far – they have had the asset for twenty years, now. No other has ever survived the process, though there are offshoot programs, like Karpov's Red Room; in the coming months, Arnim will even allow Karpov to borrow the asset to train his own subjects.

"There are human things, Arnim," Amalyn says softly, "and those I would tell you. But daemon things are not for human ears."

"Every daemon knows, then?" he asks.

Her silence is his answer, and had anyone else said such a thing, he would act on his curiosity – but she is his soul and so he will continue on with his work (and if part of him wonders how every daemon would keep silent – he is a human, and he has experiments to run.)

While Howard is busy at work, Maria gives birth to their son Anthony. Peggy, Morita, Jones, and Dugan are in the waiting room. Their daemons are all in the corner, and while Peggy is maddeningly curious, she stays with the boys. Dugan is one of hers, but Morita and Jones have moved on with their lives. So they catch up while waiting to hear about Maria and the child's health.

She doesn't hear Harold say, "Steve and Buchiel should be here," or the stories Harold, Yuki, Vesta, and Fiona tell about the stupid things those silly boys did, and how there really is no way they should've survived as long as they had.

There is no daemon curled up frozen in Captain America's grip or in the tin found next to him.

The experts decide that means his daemon died, that Captain America must've gotten close enough to dying to count.

They offer him counseling and he refuses.

Malaya tells Nick, "Something's not right here."

"Yeah," he says, "I figured."

Steve Rogers is obviously depressed and has a massive case of PTSD for multiple things – but he doesn't act like someone whose daemon is dead.

He wakes up and thinks for a second he feels Bucky.

He wakes up and he calls through the bond, Bucky? Are you there?

There is no answer. Of course there's not – Bucky's dead. It's seventy years later, they tell him.

Bucky died 70 years ago.

Sometimes, the asset hears things. It mentions the sound only once; the maintenance for the malfunction teaches it that such things should not be shared, even if an obedient asset should always present itself for maintenance.

The asset hears Bucky and oh god I'm sorry and I miss you.

The asset ignores the sounds; the words are meaningless.

It wonders, sometimes, what Bucky is – the use makes the word seem to be a name.

Once, the asset hears Buchiel - but the chamber is prepped and the cold comes and the asset does not remember, after (not for a long long time).

The asset is in the kitchen when Casimira pads in. Alex is upstairs changing into his house-clothes so Casimira decides this is her chance; she understands Alex's mission, and is fully supportive – but.

"I know what you are," she tells the asset, nudging at his knee with her nose.

Of course he does not reply, just stares down at her with those blank eyes.

"I'm sorry," she adds, because some things must be borne for all that they are terrible beyond reckoning.

She takes comfort in knowing he will be allowed his rest once Project Insight is applied.

"Bucky?"

"Who the hell is Bucky?" … Steve?

.

"The whole thing," Steve says, more furious than he's ever been, cold with it, utter certain that he could kill every single Hydra agent with his bare hands, "it's all going. I don't care what it takes."

"I didn't know about Barnes," Fury says, and Steve – believes him, mostly. The thing is, Steve should've known, and he didn't.

Bucky? he calls, and the only reply is a distant cry.

"Bucky?"

"Who the hell is Bucky?"i… Steve?

.

The asset… I know him? the asset thinks, ignoring the techs and handlers and guards. I know him.

The handler speaks and the asset does not listen.

The asset is wiped – but it hears Bucky? and it clings as tightly as it can to the sound, the barest warmth that wells up, it clings and clings and clings – and with a cry, it lets go because it can't hold on anymore.