What is discussed in regards to the 'attack' on the Winter Soldier probably isn't quite as bad as what Rumlow imagines here but the thwarted second attack would have been. Just wanted to clarify.
Also Brock is straight (in his own opinion) but there is a definite man-crush going on.
Disclaimer: These characters are all Marvel's. I make no money from this and in fact give Marvel (willingly) lots of my money so they will continue creating movies I love.
Author's Note: A bit of exposition...
Nothing too explicit in this one, but a few references to past sexual molestation and attempted rape. Plus a few well deserved deaths.
Brock's phone sounded, giving him the signal that their ride was waiting outside to return them to the bank. The bar was about to close anyway. He looked at the team; the last couple of hours had done them good.
He caught Rollins eye and his SIC acknowledged the signal. He started gathering up the men while Rumlow walked outside to locate the SUV. At least this one was silver; nothing screamed covert ops like the big black hulks that SHIELD weirdly seemed to favour.
He climbed in to the front passenger seat and was soon joined in the huge vehicle by the other four men. He nodded to the driver and they were off to meet the wizard.
After a brief wait they were escorted in and down to The Vault floor.
Pierce met them at the door to the room containing The Soldier's cryo chamber.
"Gentlemen," he greeted them. "He's awake; the support staff are just helping him get situated. It takes a few minutes for him to get fully functional after being frozen for years. Shocking I know." Pierce was clearly excited to finally meet his new acquisition. "We can have him out for up to two weeks."
Rumlow was surprised "Why so short a time sir? I thought this was a permanent thing?"
"As near miraculous as the technology is that allows him to operate, it's not perfect. After about two weeks, give or take, the programming starts to break down and by all accounts he can become a little unpredictable," Pierce explained. "If you men notice anything unusual, any non-mission behaviour, I'm relying on you to report it straight away. I can't emphasise enough how crucial this is."
The men confirmed their understanding of these orders.
They'd picked up their weapons on the way in. Pierce nodded at the guns "Keep those lowered unless absolutely necessary. Let's get this welcome home party started shall we," he said with an infectious grin. He keyed in the access code and the door slowly swung open.
Rumlow walked in at Pierce's side while the rest of the team fanned out and took positions along the wall either side of the door. Rumlow hung back and watched as Pierce approached the damp, shivering figure wrapped from the neck down in electric blankets, who was sat on one of the chairs the science team had previously occupied. His head was hanging down, a mass of wet dark strands, and he gave no reaction to show he'd noticed Pierce's approach.
The lights might be on but it sure didn't look like anyone was home.
Pierce squatted down at just over an arm's length from The Asset and gazed at him with a concerned frown. Brock wasn't sure that was a wise choice if half of what he'd heard was true, but he figured Pierce was trying to prove something.
The Hydra leader looked over at the lead scientist from earlier. "Is he ok?"
"Yes this is perfectly normal according to the logs. It just takes him a little while to reboot after Cryo sleep, it's incredible how quickly he's progressed to this stage. Five minutes ago he couldn't stand."
Pierce straightened up and shot the man a disapproving look. "He's a man, not a machine Doctor."
The Soldier suddenly twitched violently and the team half raised their guns before Pierce waved them down.
"Urr yes, we don't use that title in here. Apparently he doesn't react well to it." The scientist rushed out.
"That might be the type of thing that maybe should have been in the briefing," Pierce said in an annoyed tone.
Yes right in the section 'Things to avoid saying to upset a brainwashed assassin', you'd think they'd put that at the top of the page.
"How much assistance does he need to get up and running?" Pierce enquired.
The scientists all looked at each other before one – the short one - responded. "He can have as little or as much autonomy as you wish sir. As far as we can tell he's totally capable, but previous handlers sometimes used controlling all aspects of his routine as a way of enforcing greater authority."
Pierce considered this for a moment "Yes I've read about some of the other things those Russian bastards did with that excuse on hand."
Brock was surprised at the dark tone Pierce's voice had taken.
"Let him manage himself unless he gives you a reason not to. The bathroom down the hall has been set up for him, and there's a couple of sets of clothing in there that should do him for between missions. His tactical gear is still being upgraded but it should arrive tomorrow. Has he eaten?"
"No not yet, he hasn't had the co-ordination," Tall and Seemingly In Charge replied this time.
"OK get him food and water and then one of my men will escort him to the bathroom to get dressed. How long until he can train? I'd like to see him in action tonight if possible."
"It should be within the hour," Lanky replied.
Brock sighed internally. Sure he'd love to see it but it was past 11 already and he had a 7am debriefing back at SHIELD in the morning.
"Good, is the room set up as specified?" Pierce continued.
"Mostly, we took the liberty of making a few updates that we think everyone will enjoy," Slim said exchanging a self-satisfied look with his two colleagues.
"We'll see," was all Pierce said in reply. "Food now if he can manage it," he said clearly intending to go wherever the training space was to inspect these changes while The Asset was prepared.
He turned to Rumlow first "Brock would you escort our guest to the facilities once he's eaten."
"Just me Sir?"
"Um sir?" The lead scientist tried to interject.
"You can take Rollins and one other to post in the hallway but I'd like you to be the one on hand to help out if required."
"Secretary Pierce?" the egghead tried again.
"Yes sir, can do." He was slightly more comfortable with that arrangement, even if he was a fair way away from 'entirely comfortable'.
Pierce turned to exit.
"Sir!" the scientist tried once again.
"Yes Collins what is it?" Pierce finally replied.
"It's just that now is the best time to carry out the imprinting sir."
It looked as though the geeks had finally done something right as Pierce spun back around and walked back to the chair and its still stationary, but now noticeably shiver-free, occupant.
"Splendid. Do you have the phrases written down? My Russian is terrible."
Collins (it would seem) passed Pierce a card.
"You're kidding right?" Pierce said sounding incredulous. "That's his kill code?"
The scientist just shrugged "Russians" he said as if that explained everything.
Pierce crouched down in front of The Soldier again, this time determined to get his attention. "Son look at me." There was no response from the unnaturally still figure.
Pierce continued unperturbed "I know you can understand me." Still nothing. Maybe something was still defrosting in there.
Pierce suddenly leaned over and put his hand under The Soldier's chin, lifting his head up until their eyes met. Blue met pale blue just as Rumlow was fighting off the heart attack the unexpected move had given him.
"Sir!"
"Shh, it's alright Rumlow, we're all friends here." If anything Pierce moved closer and then placed his other hand under the blanket and rested it on The Soldier's right shoulder. Rumlow saw a flash of silver on the other side. The fucking metal arm, how could he forget the fucking metal arm. This just gets better by the moment.
He then uttered a string of sounds that Rumlow recognised as Russian but had no fucking clue as to what they meant. The soldier clearly did as he suddenly sat bolt upright and gained laser-like focus in under a second. It was pretty damn terrifying to see quite honestly.
Clearly Pierce didn't agree "Good" he uttered. "Son I'm Alexander Pierce and I'm your new handler. You're back with Hydra. Do you understand me?"
"Da."
In spite of it all Rumlow still wasn't expecting the Russian response.
"In English son," Pierce insisted.
"Yes sir, I understand" The Asset uttered quietly.
The soft traces of Brooklyn in his accent gave Brock an unexpected thrill. Bucky fucking Barnes.
"What are your standing orders?" Pierce questioned.
"Await mission briefing from my handler, and follow all instructions from my handler until in combat situations, at which point any actions can be taken to eliminate targets as long as mission protocols aren't breached sir."
"Good and who is your handler son?" Pierce was clearly checking something.
"You are sir, Alexander Pierce of Hydra."
"Have you ever had a secondary handler?"
The Soldier looked confused, "I don't know sir."
Exasperated Pierce stood turned to one of the lab techs, "That's going to take some getting used to. Has he?"
They quickly searched through some files.
"Yes sir, on more than one occasion it would seem."
Pierce turned towards Brock."Come here Rumlow."
Brock approached warily. This couldn't be for what he thought could it?
Pierce moved out of the way and motioned for Brock to take the crouched position in front of The Soldier that he'd just vacated. Oh well best just get on with it. He turned to Pierce for instructions.
"Look him in the eyes," Brock did so – my weren't they a lovely shade, "Place your hand on his right shoulder" hand in position. "And read phrase 3" Pierce concluded, handing Brock the card he was still holding.
Brock looked down at the phonetically spelt Russian code phrases. So this was all it took to control one of the world's most powerful beings? It was a little obscene. He was suddenly very glad he was on the same side as the people who did this so it could never happen to him.
He focused on the phrase he was meant to say: 'The Winter Palace was destroyed'. Really?
He managed to muddle his was through it and then told the now attentive Asset his name.
"He's your secondary handler. You're to obey him in my absence. Do you understand?" Pierce asked
"Yes sir, secondary handler, designated Agent Brock Rumlow. Chain of command established, Pierce then Rumlow."
Rumlow got up, feeling a little strange about the situation. But what could he do.
"Perfect." The Asset looked shocked at the affirmation from Pierce, clearly this wasn't something he was used to, if a repeat amnesiac could ever be said to be 'used to' anything Rumlow supposed.
He wondered what the man actually retained from the last 70 years of his non-existence.
Gesturing in the direction of the milling scientists Pierce continued "These men will give you some food and water. Make sure you have as much as you need. We'll return for you shortly."
This time Pierce signalled for Rumlow to follow him as he exited the room. Rumlow motioned for his men to stay watching The Asset, clearly this was meant to be a private discussion.
Pierce led the way along the corridor to a section Rumlow hadn't yet seen. This place is like a damn TARDIS. Now that was a thought Brock would never admit to having.
"Let me show you around," Pierce said suddenly breaking the silence that had descended.
He approached a regular looking door and swung it open. They both wandered in. Inside was a fancy office, spacious, dark furniture, the works. Plus it seemed to have a pretty nice en suite bathroom attached.
"This will be where you'll bring The Asset shortly. We'll set him up with a cot in the room he's currently in" Pierce explained.
"He seems pretty house broken to me sir, why do we need to keep him locked up?" Brock asked.
Pierce sighed and indicated that Brock should take a seat in one of the office's ridiculously expensive-looking chairs.
"Almost a little too well behaved when he's first out of cryo or post-wipe it would seem. The truth of the matter is that keeping him under lock and key is as much for his own protection as for anyone else's. The files the KGB kept are pretty detailed and I don't know who's had access. As far as I'm concerned it's already too many people. I've made you handler to protect The Asset."
Rumlow was confused, as far as he was concerned The Winter Soldier was a frickin force of nature. 'And I get to hold the leash' Brock thought to himself.
Pierce clearly saw this on his face. "As you've seen, gaining control of The Asset is actually pretty simple if you know the correct phrases and motions. If you're a designated handler he's programmed to do anything you ask of him. There was an incident where one particular handler decided to see exactly how far this obedience went." Oh right.
"From what we understand The Asset broke his programming on their next 'encounter' and there wasn't much left of the man to bury. Of him or the other five trained operatives who tried to subdue The Asset in the aftermath. Apparently our boy really doesn't swing that way," Pierce said with a tight smile. "As much as I'd hate to think it, I'm sure there are a few individuals in our ranks who'd take one look at him and find themselves helpless to resist trying something similar if they believed they could get away with it. The thought of having control over someone like him can be intoxicating. To a certain type."
Rumlow suddenly felt pretty terrible about the leash thing.
"There have been one or two, shall we call them 'minor indiscretions', over the years. Generally if they were around the time The Asset had come out of cryo sleep, or it was close enough to a wipe, he didn't react and the guilty parties were simply disciplined by their superiors. But after this ah, event, took place apparently his reactions to prolonged physical contact are now all over the place. I'd like to keep unnecessary deaths to a minimum if I can," Pierce said dark-humouredly.
No touching unless absolutely necessary. Got it.
Rumlow wondered if there had been a list of things people were allowed to get away with in their treatment of The Asset. After all anything done could just be wiped away couldn't it? Though apparently it wasn't as clear cut as all that if he was still carrying around some of the trauma with him.
Despite being almost a century old, physically the kid couldn't have been much more than 28, maybe pushing 30 tops. Rumlow's view of The Soldier had just done a complete 180 and he now felt more than a little protective towards their new super weapon.
Hell kid, yeah I'll watch out for you, even if you are a cyborg-armed killing machine.