STARK TOWER - SECURE AREA

The steel door unlocks with a buzz and a loud metallic clank.

Watch as two men in police uniforms enter. One has a taser. They move to stand at each end of the gurney. A woman and two other men enter. Study each one through narrowed eyes. What are they going to do. Test the straps again, slowly. Still tight. They stop just inside the door and look at him, uncomfortable. One man steps forward. Large man, older, looks official. Nervous.

The large man says "What is your name?" The second man says "как тебя зовут" with a terrible accent. Frown.

The large man waits, then turns, questioning. The female says "His real name is unknown, we only know him as 'Winter Soldier'".

The large man turns back, takes a step closer. "Ok, 'Winter Soldier', I am U.S. Marshall Johnson, and you are under arrest." He shifts some papers to his left hand, shows a badge with the other. Clears his throat. "You're under arrest for your part in the destruction of the three helicarriers, including the murder of 16 crew members, the murder of SHIELD Director Nick Fury, the murder of SHIELD Agent Jasper Sitwell, and the murder of Captain Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America." He waits while the one with the terrible accent says it all again in Russian.

Stare. What is this. They were missions. The men keep talking, but he's stopped listening. They are going to punish me for completing the mission. Breathe deeply and shake your head. What did I do wrong.

JARVIS says "His pulse and temperature are rising". What. Confirm. The large man looks at him, in the eyes. Give an unblinking glare back, think of all the ways you could kill him. Test the straps over your arms again, this time making the straps clang sharply against the metal frame of the gurney.

The woman squeaks, and the large man backs up, still looking at you until finally turning away. They disappear out the door. The guards back out carefully. Another man, the man who's been sitting outside his cell every day, steps inside. He says "Don't worry". What. Stare. The man frowns. "SHIELD captured you, but they won't hurt you." Noise at the door, other people asking the man to come on. The man glances out at them, then looks back and says "My name is Sam, I want to help. I'll be outside every day. Starting a new book soon." He gives a quick smile and leaves.

Help. Help what. Notice the door doesn't close. He takes a deep breath. Frowns. I want out of here. Look at the open door and throw all your strength into breaking the straps. The gurney bounces but doesn't tip over. The straps are strong, but whatever is holding the gurney down gives good leverage. After a second he can feel the strap over his left wrist start to give. Put all your energy into the left arm. The strap is pulling loose, and the gurney bars are bending. Glance at the still open door. The gurney comes apart, his arm is free, use it to pull apart the strap across his chest. Door still open... Stop. Hear voices. Work faster, pull the straps loose.

The door swings towards him and slams shut. BAM.

Rip off the last strap, break the handcuff off your flesh hand, pull out the tubes, ignore the pain, rip off inefficient backless clothing. Free. Go to the door. Look out the window. A doctor looks up and backs away in fear. Punch the window with your metal hand. The doctor runs. Frustration. Pace the cell. The talking man no - Sam, said they weren't going to hurt me. Why? SHIELD has me. Will I work for them. Will they return me to HYDRA. Not bothered by being naked, tear what remains of the gurney into smaller pieces.


SOKOVIA

Natasha sits on the bed, next to her target. He's naked, half asleep, but she can hear contented hums coming from him occasionally as she moves the tips of her fingers across his back. She's gained a lot from this one, from his brain and from his safe. She takes a second to appreciate the evening. There's more than one way to get information out of someone. She didn't even have to inflict pain. She smirks. Well, maybe a little.

She gathers her clothes, the light from the remains of the scattered candles providing more than enough light. As she pauses in the living room to throw on her dress and shoes, she reconsiders her plan to leave the target alive.

He's nobody really, just a low level bureaucrat, but he's also the grandson of one of the high level scientists who worked on the Winter Soldier program. Evidently the scientist liked to take his work home, and liked to talk about it. It's a wonder he lived as long as he did.

She shakes her head and pulls her long blonde hair to one side. No, this one's death would raise more questions than just having a drunken night with someone he picked up in a bar. Besides, if he's alive they won't find traces of the drugs in his system. He'll blame his bad memory on the 5 empty bottles of vodka. Natasha's lips twitch into a little smile as she turns and walks out the door.

Finally, after all the phone calls, secret meetings, quick lunches with "friends", late night "parties" and one short torture session, she has a lead. This trail has led her all over Europe, and now it's taking her back to where she started.

Natasha calls Sam while she waits in Paris for a commercial flight back to the states.

Sam answers the phone with "This better be good".

Natasha raises her eyebrows. Her eyes narrow as she purrs into the phone, "Hmmmm, just good?"

Sam makes a strangled noise on the other end. "Nat! Damn, sorry, Tony has been driving me crazy, I thought it was him again". He pauses, "Are you ok? When will you be back?"

"I'm coming back today, but I need your help with a few things when I get there. Can you meet me at our usual place, 1300 tomorrow?"

"Um, sure, should I be worried?"

"Well, we're going someplace fun, so be prepared." Natasha says, with a bounce in her voice.

"Ok, great, see ya." Sam hangs up, sits back in his chair and sighs. "Someplace fun" means it will be a fight. Taking a deep breath to slow his pulse, he wonders what she's found. He should pack his gear now, just in case.


STARK TOWER

Sam stands and walks to his monitor. Maria let him in the secure line to watch the Winter Soldier from his room. He really should take her to lunch or something, to say thanks for all she's done for him. People here are nice, he thinks. Except Tony.

Sam wonders why Tony has been so aggravating, dropping in unannounced, calling at weird hours, asking awkward questions, being nothing but a pain. No reason, except his questions always get around to if he knows who the Soldier really is.

The answer is always "I don't know, and I don't care". Tony won't say why he's interested, just that he'd like to know the killer in his basement. Sam thinks that he's been cool so far, allowing him and the Soldier to stay rent free in his building (although he suspects Tony is charging the government for housing the Soldier). Tony believes that Sam's trying to help the Soldier, since he has experience with the VA talking to vets. And that's true, to a point. He's glad this is almost over.

He gets up and gathers a few things. Might as well go do the afternoon therapy in the hallway. Good thing Natasha will be back soon, because he's getting tired of this whole deal. When she left, about two weeks ago now, he knew that watching the Soldier would be pretty boring (and frankly a little scary). He had shamefully been a little cruel at first, holding pictures of Barnes' family to the small window that he knew would be hurtful, if the Soldier was who Nat thought he was, but there was never a reaction. Even when he had held up the other items he had borrowed from Steve's apartment. Nothing.

He'd done some searching for more info on the Winter Soldier, but found nothing really, only theories. Mostly excuses for deaths that hadn't been resolved yet. When someone important was murdered, or died mysteriously, and the killer was never found, these deaths were blamed on the "Winter Soldier". There was no evidence this Winter Soldier even really existed, and wasn't just an excuse made up to explain the unexplainable. Here I am, searching for information on a ghost and a 70 year-old dead man. And talking to himself in a sterile, locked down hallway. I must be crazy. Remember when the Soldier had talked to you about being held prisoner. But maybe Nat's right. He sighs as he gets out of the elevator, and nods to the guard at the desk there.

Tony had had a small but comfortable chair moved in here for him, so he settles in and gets the current book out of his bag. He checks the monitor and notices the Soldier doing sit-ups. After he calmed down after destroying the gurney, he had been given a white/grey striped button-up onesie to wear, with socks. He looks warmer, and it's not as disturbing to look at him now that his chest is covered. The area where the steel arm meets flesh is red and scarred, it was difficult not to stare at it and wonder how it must feel. He shakes his head.

He's been reading aloud from an old library book about the Howling Commandos. It tells of their missions, with a short background on each member. Sam sighs, puts in the earbud, finds his bookmark, and continues, starting with "Hey, I'm back, here's chapter five." The chapter's about Barnes' youth in Brooklyn, going to school and later work after his dad died, and how he supported his mother and sisters. Growing up dirt poor, then being drafted and torn away from his home. How he fought on the front lines in Africa and Italy for two years before being captured.

Sam lowers the book to his lap and looks at the monitor. It bothers him to read this stuff, but the Soldier doesn't seem to care. He shrugs. Aggravated now, he snorts. It doesn't matter, there's no way this is really Barnes. When everyone sees that the Soldier really is a mindless Russian assassin, I can go home.

The Soldier has steadily ignored him, and the pictures. He had seemed curious at first, but then lost interest. Sam knew he could hear him, he had an earpiece that had a wireless connection to the speaker in the cell, so he kept on reading while the Soldier did exercises, pushups, sit-ups, all kinds of calisthenics, pacing, jogging in place, it was tiring to watch. Except for never speaking, the Soldier seems more functional, less like a machine, now the drugs have worn off.

It's strange the the Soldier can be so threatening, so intimidating and confident (even in a backless hospital gown), and the next minute shake like a kicked puppy. Sigh. Serious mental issues.Then he smiles, remembering how frightened the doctors had been, telling the story over and over about how the Soldier had freed himself while destroying the gurney he'd been tied to. Don't piss the man off, Sam thinks, and shakes his head.

That was pretty amazing too, the docs said he'd be messed up for a couple of weeks, but it was really only a couple of days. All his wounds are gone, even the broken leg seems completely healed now. And he's impossibly strong, tearing himself out of the restraints like that. Weird. I wonder what their tests found out.

He shakes his head. Gotta finish this book then I can go back upstairs. So he looks at the book again, hunting for where he left off.

"Ok, where were we. Oh yeah." He continues, "But close to Azzano, the 107th was pinned down by a vicious German assault, where they fought until they were captured by HYDRA forces. The prisoners were taken deep into Austria, to the Krausburg weapons factory, where they were forced to work as slave labor. The prisoners were mistreated, malnourished and many died from starvation, disease, torture or were killed by the guards." He pauses for a second and checks the monitor. The Soldier's just lying on the floor with his legs bent up, like he's taking a break from doing sit-ups, his arms stretched out on the floor.

Frowning, Sam looks back down at the book and continues. "Steve Rogers, being on tour in Italy with the USO, learned of the capture of the 107th and his friend James "Bucky" Barnes, but was denied permission to lead a rescue attempt, due to the location of the camp so far behind enemy lines. But Steve went AWOL, and with the help of friends with a small airplane they flew from Italy to Austria, where Rogers jumped, alone, into enemy territory close to the factory. After weeks with no word Colonel Phillips was about to declare Captain Rogers MIA, when the Captain marched in the gate at the head of a column of over 160 rescued soldiers, including Sgt. Barnes, with many captured enemy vehicles and weapons, to surrender himself for military justice."

Sam pauses. I need a drink. He puts the book down and looks up. The Soldier's face is in the window, staring at him.

Surprise! Sam doesn't take his eyes off the Soldier, and slowly stands. The Soldier doesn't move, just looks at him. Then he says, in perfect English, "It was Red Skull, and we were in Kreischberg".

Sam's eyebrows go up. "Do you remember?"

The Soldier's eyes look to the side, then he bends his head down, his long hair falling forward. "I remember...working, being sick, and...needles..." He turns away from the window and leans against the wall next to the door.

Sam goes the window but can only see the side of his head, still bowed, his long hair hiding his face. "They made us work. They starved us, laughed at us, killed us. I tried to help a kid but was beaten. I was already sick, thought I was gonna die. Then they took me away. To..." He stops and glances up at Sam in the window, then turns to face the door again, head hanging. Speaks again but in Russian this time, a long sentence. Stops and just stands there.

Sam doesn't know what to say. The killer can speak English. And Natasha was right, the Soldier really could be Sgt. Barnes. But what happened to him? This is messed up.

"I don't know Russian, sorry. I just want to help you remember who you are." The Soldier is looking at him again.

Out of the air, JARVIS says "I can translate for you, if you'd like."

"Oh hey, yes, please."

"He said, 'My programming needs to be reset. I'm sorry, it's breaking down, I can't help it. Remembering is forbidden I'm sorry.'"

"What does that mean? Why is remembering forbidden?" Frown at the Soldier. "Will you talk to me?"

But he sees the shutters come down in the Soldier's eyes. Sam asks more questions, but gets no reaction. "Well ok, I'm going to finish this chapter and go home, think about what I said, we just want to help you." Sam looks at the man standing there, his posture and demeanor showing resigned submission. What happened to this guy. "I'll be back tomorrow, same time." There is a person in there, maybe he really is Barnes. The implications are staggering, but he concentrates on finishing the chapter before going upstairs. Man, Nat's gonna laugh at me.


WASHINGTON D.C.

A week into his watch, he had coffee with Maria one afternoon and she had asked how his "project" was going. Since he knew that Maria probably knew more than she was letting on, he swore her to silence and told her Natasha's theory about the Soldier's true identity. How he was using photos of Bucky and Steve together to maybe jog the Soldier's memory, and how difficult it was to find anything with the two of them. She'd suggested that Cap probably had pictures of him, and perhaps other items as well. She said she'd watched his place sometimes, when Steve was off on missions, so she had a key. So the next day they'd gone over to Steve's place in Washington D.C. The apartment was quiet, the holes in the wall from the Soldier shooting Fury through it were still there, badly patched by someone.

It was hard to look through Steve's things. Besides making him really sad again, it had been awkward, like Cap would come in any minute and ask him what the hell he's doing. Since he was so uncomfortable being there, he brought a couple of Steve's photo albums back to his apartment to look through, and a few small items that might mean something. A WWII lensatic compass with a picture inside, a postcard of the Cyclone roller coaster, and a set of Steve's dog-tags. The postcard didn't seem like anything, but who knows. Steve must've thought it was special, since he saved it.

Like a lot of people, Sam had a stack of albums, full of family photos and events, and people and places from his time in the service. But Steve's album was more like a scrapbook, articles and bits of things. Dogtags on a chain, papers from the army, certificates for medals awarded posthumously. An old postcard showing the Stark Expo, 1937. No photos of family or anything from before the war. The other album did have photos, all since he "woke up". Shots of him doing charity events, articles about him saving the day somewhere. Avengers publicity shots.

Then he mentally kicked himself, of course he has no old photos, it's not like he took them into the ice with him. They're gone at least 70 years now. He wonders if Steve has any family alive who might still have any. He makes a note to look into that, later.

So when he gets back to his room in Stark Tower after leaving the Soldier, he gets into comfortable clothes, makes a pot of coffee and settles in to look through the albums. He starts with the one that's a scrapbook, it seems to be filled with earlier stuff. There's a copy of an article from a 1934 newspaper (The Brooklyn Eagle) about the roller coaster at Coney Island. The picture above the article shows two young men with wide smiles, the taller one with his arm around the smaller one's shoulders as they posed for the photo in front of the big Cyclone gateway arch.

That explains the postcard, it must have been a great day, for Steve to collect these little things. Sam leans back in his chair and holds the coffee mug, lost in thought. The caption only said something about the Cyclone being so safe children could ride, nothing about the boys in the picture. The smaller one had Steve's face. Sam knew about Steve being small and unhealthy when he was young, and about the serum, since Captain America had been all over the news when they found him in the ice. But who was the taller one? He was handsome, grinning, with his short dark hair neatly combed. Then it hit him like ice water. "Damn, I bet that's Bucky" he said aloud. Perhaps he should be studying Steve and not the Winter Soldier. Sam thought about the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian, maybe he should go see it. Soon.


STARK TOWER - SECURE AREA

The Soldier was dreaming. He'd stretched out on the bed, covered up with the blanket, and his eyes had closed. Talking Sam was gone for today. He'd been ignoring him and his stories. But one time he paused in his exercises he'd heard something he remembered. If that's what that was. Yes, I was there, it was me. The short man with round glasses (involuntary shiver) was there. "HYDRA", he said, aloud. Pain. His breath lets out, and he feels a rush of adrenaline, seeing images in his head of a man in a white lab coat, moving a syringe close to him, out of his sight. Screaming.

He lies still, letting the images run through his head. He sees little bits of events, different pictures, like turning pages in a magazine. He's watching through a scope, over a battlefield. Naked, getting hosed off with cold water. Laughter. He's next to a campfire, friendly faces. Moving quietly through a house, killing people in their sleep. A skinny blonde kid with a bloody nose, grinning at him. A General, his handler, must please him. Being left in a dark room, starving. Surgeries, doctors, more pain, pain, his arm is gone...why...they cut off my arm oh god my arm

He jolts awake and sits up, sweating. Still caught up in the dream, he leans against the cold wall and looks at his left arm. Flexes his elbow and wiggles his fingers. I had a real arm, but it got torn off. How? He gets up and paces back and forth, trying to think, but nothing comes. Only memories of pain, of being afraid, of hurting deep inside like he was on fire. Of being punished. Of the...of the... He spins and hits the metal door with his left fist, making a loud resounding BOOM.

Before the sound fades, the lights come up. He jumps to the middle of the cell and stands still, trying not to show any aggression, head down, hands by his sides, like he'd been taught. They'll be here to punish me now. Why did I do that? Adrenaline makes him begin to tremble all over. I'm losing my programming, I need to be put away why are they waiting, why why why

He expects punishment, because that's what happened every time he did anything on his own initiative. It was so ingrained in him it was something he always remembered. Outbursts like what he'd just done were rare, because he knew that unless he restrained himself punishment would soon follow. And there was no way to know what form it would take, the handler would say. Usually, the guards were ordered to beat him until he passed out and was left broken and bleeding on the floor. Or left in a dark room for days, weeks, who knew how long after a while. Ordered to let the guards do what they wanted to him. Chained to a wall and whipped. Forced to kill innocents. Some handlers didn't want him damaged, some didn't care.

And always, the chair. Why did I hit the door... panic rising.

A male voice over the speaker inquires calmly and politely "Do you need assistance? Are you injured?"

He freezes. What. No. "No" he says. "No repairs needed." Grimace. Hold breath, keep head down.

The voice says "Very well, if you do need something, just ask me, I am called "JARVIS."

The lights return to their former dim glow. The Soldier lifts his head. Testing. Nothing happens. Area is silent, no approaching footsteps. I can ask a question. He shakes his head. He said I can ask a question but it's not possible, don't do it. Shake your head again, fight the voices. Take a breath and speak to the empty room, "Will I be punished." Grimace. Wait.

The voice, JARVIS, says "For hitting the door? You did no harm."

The Soldier stands and thinks about that. No punishment. Why. "Question, please?" he says, starting to tremble again.

"Yes?" JARVIS says.

"Can the talking man come back, now?" Speaking to the floor, shaking.

"Do you wish for Mr. Wilson to come and speak to you now, or would you like to set a later time? It is 0250 hours."

What. "Who is Mr. Wilson?"

The one you call Talking Sam is Sam Wilson, also known as Falcon. I will contact him with your message immediately."

The Soldier's eyes get big, and another rush of adrenaline courses through his body. I asked and didn't get hurt! Disbelief.


STARK TOWER - SAM'S SUITE

I can't believe this. Sam says to himself, as he pulls on some clothes. To the air, "He really asked for me?"

"Yes sir, he had been very agitated, and struck the door with his metal fist. He is unharmed, and is calmer now." JARVIS says.

"What could he possibly need to talk about at three in the morning...(yawn). He didn't say what he wanted?"

"No, sir".

Ok, this is weird. Sam goes to the elevator, which Jarvis already has waiting. Ride down, shrug at the question on the guards' face as he signs in. He puts the earpiece in as he gets to door 116 and looks in the now cracked window. The Soldier is standing where he left him, in the middle of the cell with his head bowed.

"Hey, I'm here, what's going on"?

The Soldier doesn't look up. He asks softly "What will happen to me?"

Sam sighs and leans against the wall. "I don't know, man. You've been arrested and charged with multiple counts of murder. One very famous person in particular, who was my friend. The judge will decide, after you're arraigned, if they do that, and if you go to trial." Sam tilts his head and quirks his lips. "I guess this is new, huh, you've never been caught, before."

His friend. My mission was his friend. Why is he not trying to hurt me. The Soldier says, to the floor again, "Will I be...frozen..."

"What? Frozen? No, wow, you won't be frozen. Might spend the rest of your life in a jail cell, but not frozen. Why do you say that?

The Soldier trembles. "They put me in a freezer, after missions."

Shocked, Sam says "What? A freezer? Why?"

"If I'm allowed to stay out, I become unstable." Pause. "I start to get confused, think about things I've never done, places I've never been, people..." Another pause. "That's what's happening now, I need to be frozen and... the chair... or I'll...fight. Don't want to go back in..." His voice fades to silence.

Sam looks at the Soldier, considering if that can be true, and if so, that explains a lot. If he really is Barnes, that could be why he still looks so young. And why the strongest man he's ever seen, except Cap, is standing there shaking in fear.

"Well hell, I feel pretty safe in saying that as long as SHIELD has you, you won't be frozen." Sam watches the Soldier as he stands there, trembling. "Can I get you something? I'll have them bring down something if you're hungry." Sam frowns, Why am I asking that? He killed Cap, he's a monster. But..

The Soldier looks up, no expression. He says "I'll get worse. Will I be punished."

Sam just looks at him. "Well, that depends on what you do. If you hurt someone, you probably will be. But you won't be punished with physical force, it will be in the form of limiting your food choices, or moving you to a smaller cell. They might even take away your socks." Sam gives a little grin, glancing at the Soldier and tilting his head.

The Soldier looks at him, and Sam sees the tiniest twitch of a smile.

They can try.