WASHINGTON D.C.

U.S. Marshall Johnson walks into the office of Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross with a mission. Tony Stark had been keeping him updated on the condition of the prisoner being held in Stark Tower, but his latest report warned that "dangerous" was an understatement, evidently even if the Soldier was drugged and restrained. He'd called Ross earlier to ask for the Soldier be tried in absentia, but the man just wouldn't see reason. The Secretary was set on having the Soldier appear in court, in person, broadcast live to the world. Maybe being here in person would help stress how serious this was. He doubted the man would listen to him, but he had to try, a lot of innocent lives were at stake.

Johnson waited in the pleasantly decorated lobby for a few minutes, until Ross's secretary called him in. "Good morning Marshall, what can I do for you?" Secretary Ross asked, standing and shaking his hand. "Have a seat." The Secretary looked calm, a question in his eyes.

"Good morning Mr. Secretary, thanks for seeing me, I just need to go over this order with you," Johnson says as he sits in one of the chairs in front of the desk. "the one about the Winter Soldier. To have him in the United Nations courtroom will be…very dangerous."

Secretary Ross sits back down in his chair behind the desk and raises his eyebrows, but doesn't say anything. Johnson continues. "I know we've gone over this before, but having him there, to put it bluntly, is stupid. The Soldier is enhanced with incredible strength, has a cybernetic arm. Tony has learned that HYDRA designed him, if you will, for the sole purpose of killing people. We need to disable him if we're going to put him in a room with a hundred spectators. Stark has been working on it, but short of drugging him out of his mind, which won't look very good on camera, nothing works."

Secretary Ross glares at Johnson over his desk. "That's good. Drug him and handcuff him to the chair. Whatever it takes. He won't have to answer questions, he just has to be there." Ross rises and walks around the desk, his eyes never leaving Johnson's. "We can't afford for him to be tried in absentia. If we do that, by the European Convention on Human Rights, he can request a retrial. We don't want that. The nation doesn't want that. He has to be there, and he has to look like a killer."

Johnson sits back, troubled by the Secretary's response. "Having him look like what he is isn't the problem." He looks down at his hands, considering his next words. "When I went to arrest him, he was strapped down to a gurney that was chained to the floor, and he freed himself in less than 2 minutes." The Marshall pauses, just looking at Secretary Ross. "Then he ripped the gurney apart. And with one strike with his metal arm he cracked the bulletproof glass in the door. Later he actually broke out the glass, got out of the cell and attacked the guards, one of whom is still in the hospital, and was on his way out before Iron Man stopped him."

The Marshall pauses and takes a breath, knowing by the look on Ross's face that he's not getting through. He shifts in his chair and continues. "After that, when Tony, and Bruce, put him under to try to disable the metal arm, the Soldier fought through the sedation early and attacked without warning, and it's only by the sheerest luck they were able to get out in time." He pauses. "It's my opinion that having the Soldier present in court is going to get a lot of people killed, on live television."

Secretary Ross stands and leans a hip against his desk, going over what the Marshall said. It sounded like the he was afraid, and was trying to find an excuse. He wants a way out. The Soldier is nobody, a HYDRA tool, he thinks. Except now, he's my tool. When the countries that haven't signed the Accords see this monster exposed and put away, they'll be rushing to join. And this man is afraid? I need someone who can do the job and not be afraid of bedtime stories. A replacement may be in order. He narrows his eyes and leans forward.

"He has to be there." Ross takes a breath, looking at Johnson. "If he looks and acts like what he is, isn't that what we want? I don't care what needs to be done to him to get him in that courtroom, I'm sure Tony will think of something, but I want him there. He won't get away. Make sure the metal arm shows. Don't cut his hair. We want people see what he is. A monster."

Ross turns and picks up a folder from his desk, saying, "The Sokovia Accords class the Winter Soldier as an "undocumented enhanced asset". He was used by HYDRA, which for the most part has been destroyed, but there's no way to know if there are more Winter Soldiers out there. Having the world watch us put this enhanced HYDRA assassin away will show how effective these new international regulations are, and they will see how necessary it is to fund its security operations."

"Sir," Johnson starts.

Ross waves the folder at him. "Technically, we can hold him indefinitely without a trial, but since he is who he is, he's going on trial for murder. 'Multiple counts' is a gross understatement. The UN court will give him the death penalty or life in the Raft. We're making the world a safer place. So he's going to be there." Ross gives a small smile. "Make it happen, Marshall."


STARK TOWER

Natasha finds Sam at his apartment in the Tower. They sit in the living room with drinks, watching the Soldier in his cell on the big screen TV and talking across a stack of folders on the coffee table. "Well, now we know who he is, but how did he get here, here as in Washington D.C., the year 2014, and not look 90 years old." Sam asks, leaning back in his chair, watching the Soldier. In his limited space, the Soldier was doing push-ups. Sam waves his hand at the screen. "And look at that, he hasn't stopped since I turned on the TV."

Natasha gives him an amused look, distracted. "From what I've been able to piece together, when he fell off the train into that chasm, Russian soldiers found him, still alive. From there I don't know what happened, the earliest records I've found on him date to 1955. Some handwritten notes about training him, pretty awful stuff. I also found documents about the Winter Soldier having a prosthetic arm, and how to maintain it, from 1957. It was strange, a cross between mechanical and medical information." She digs into the stack of folders until she finds the one she wants.

She pauses and looks at Sam. "And there's something else, but you must not mention this to anyone, especially Tony." Natasha reaches out and touches Sam's hand. He looks in her eyes and raises his eyebrows. "Some of the letters were signed by Howard Stark."

"What! Why!? How?" Sam says loudly, amazed. He takes the folder and looks at the letters. Russian was written below the typed English words. "But why would Howard have done such a thing? Sure he was a scientist, but I didn't think he was into making cyborgs out of his friends."

"That's what's confusing. He knew Barnes from the war, he would have recognized him, unless they kept his face hidden, somehow. Or he just worked on the design, not the actual 'installation' of it. And this prosthetic is unique. If Howard had been working on a medical breakthrough on this scale, you'd think there would be more examples and articles about it, somewhere."

"Maybe that's why HYDRA had him killed. They would have liked the irony, having him killed with his own invention, by a friend." Sam shakes his head and stretches out his legs under the table. "But why did they wait forty years? Howard recognized Barnes, after all that time, even when he was injured, in the dark. But Barnes didn't seem to know Howard." He pauses, thinking.

"HYDRA made him forget, somehow. But he's starting to remember more, now." Natasha shifted in her chair, leaning forward and putting her elbows on the table, crossing her arms. "When I went to tell Tony we were back, I talked to the Soldier for a minute. He remembered working with me...before." She caught her breath, stop.

Sam's eyebrows couldn't get any higher. She smiles and huffs at him. "Yes, I knew him. The Winter Soldier was one of my trainers, in Russia, a long time ago." She slides off the couch to sit on the floor. "I only knew him as the Winter Soldier. There were rumors, but no one knew who he used to be. Some even said he was never human, 'it' was constructed, a machine that looked human." She sighs, remembering his smile.

Sam just looks at her with a worried expression, shaking his head, not saying anything. "Did he remember Steve?" she asks, getting away from that subject. Sam nods, shifting in his chair. "He did, sort of. He talked about fighting Cap, "his mission", on the highway, and on the helicarrier. But he didn't show any interest in the photos I showed him when I was babysitting." Sam says, pulling the folder of photos from the pile on the table. "But he did talk to me once, and he said something that backs up your theory of him really being Barnes."

Natasha looks at him, tilts her head to the side slightly. "Sorry, I guess I forgot to tell you, with all the excitement yesterday." Sam gives a little grin and shrugs. "When I was sitting in the hall reading to him about the 107th infantry getting captured at Azzano, he came up to the window and scared the you-know-what out of me. He told me about being held prisoner, and being tortured. In English." He looks up to see Natasha frowning at the wall. "He shut down pretty quick after that, though. Went back to Russian."

"So he remembered something from before he was the Soldier." Natasha says, wondering. "That's what we need to do, get him to remember his youth, Brooklyn…" She looks at him, then down at the table. "I…I didn't want to make him remember Steve, when I saw him earlier. What will he do when he realizes he killed his best friend, who was trying to save him." She says slowly, thinking about Steve's words after they had been captured by the STRIKE team. Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky. She sighs.

Sam sits up. "He hasn't really remembered just who Steve was," Agitated, he stands up, walks into the kitchen and comes back. "and we don't know if Barnes is still in there, or if he can even remember very much. Ever. He might be so brain damaged that he'll never be able to."

Natasha leans back in her chair. "When you were babysitting, with the photos and stories, he didn't seem to care. But what if we sat with him in the new cell and talked with him. Reinforce the little bits he does remember."

Sam thinks for a moment, sits down again and crosses his arms. He watches the Soldier exercising, doing sit-ups now. "I don't think we should. What's he going to remember? Torture? 70 years of killing? I say we do the 'ignorance is bliss' thing. If he realizes what he's done and who he's killed, he'll go ballistic."

"Yes, I thought that too. But what if they make him remember in the middle of the courtroom during testimony, and he freaks? Sure the guards will try to stop him, but he'll cut a swath of death through all those innocent people before they can maybe kill him." Natasha gets up and goes to the kitchen to pour another glass of wine. "I think it would be better for us to tell him, in a controlled environment. That way, he can't hurt anyone." She calls back.

Sam follows her and leans against the door jamb. "Alright, but how are we going to calm him down afterward? Not even Tony can, with his miracle drugs. And I'm not going in there to give him a hug."

Natasha smiles at Sam's frowning face. "Well, if we can't talk him down, there's the sedative gas Tony used to get him out of the operating room he trashed. He's hooked up the new cell with it too, just in case, he said." She leans against the counter and takes a sip from her glass. "Then we can get the docs to tie him down again. I think they have a chair for that now, instead of a gurney." She frowns. Last resort.

"That'll make a great impression in the courtroom." Sam shrugs. "Well, when should we do this? The feds are wanting to move him to the courthouse soon."

"Well, lets go down now, it's not too late. I want to let the Soldier know what's going to happen next, anyway." She looks at the TV, where the Soldier, no, Barnes, is still exercising. "And Steve's funeral is tomorrow. Tony wants me to be there but I'd rather not. I don't need to be on international television."


STARK TOWER - SECURE AREA

The Soldier stops jogging in place when the cell door opens. Sam. Sam smiles and says "Hi". Natalia comes in. She has a box. She puts the box down and gives him a small nod. "Privet." she says. Sam goes back out and brings in two folding chairs and sets them up in front of the bars. They both sit and look at him. What. Lower your eyelids and watch them.

Natalia says "Soldier, we won't hurt you, we just want to talk." In English. Hold unchanging, blank expression. "You remember me, right? When we worked together, before?" Look down. Think of her beside him on the bed, with the rifle. "Yes."

"I'm going to ask you some questions, and don't worry, we're not trying to trick you." Natalia just looks at him for a moment. "Do you remember your mother?" she asks, softly.

What. Start to shake your head. "I don't have…" See a woman, in an apron, working around a hot stove, talking, smiling. Tilt head to the side, still in the memory. "I...see a woman, in a kitchen, she smiles at me…" She's making me malfunction, why. Frown.

"Her name was Winifred." Natalia says. Winifred. No reaction. Natalia continues. "You loved your mother, very much. And your father. His name was George, he worked in a factory, but he was killed in an accident when you were young." She looks into the box she brought and pulls out a folder, looks through the papers in it and takes out a photograph. "This is a picture of your family, do you want to see?" she says.

This is a trick. She lied. His handlers would do things like this, to make him mad. They never let him see any pictures. They make him mad, he attacks someone and the guards beat him, every time.

He glares at her. She won't show him. Anger. She looks down at the picture, and turns it around. "This is your mother and father, with you and your younger brother and sisters, in Brooklyn, 1931." Stare. Lies. Don't move, just look at them from under your hair.

Natasha looks at Sam. She tilts her head with a little shrug.

"I don't have a family. You're going to…correct me." he says, his voice deep and rough.

"Yes you did!" Natalia smiles."You had a family who loved you, and we're not going to hurt you." she says, firmly. "Your brother's name was Jack, and your sisters were Beatrice and Rebecca. Think about it, can you remember anything about them?"

Think. Stand still. "Remembering is a malfunction. Take…take me to be reset. So I don't… see images… anymore." Look at the floor. They're playing a game, but they'll tire of it soon. Conceal a sigh. Why don't they just start now? Don't listen to their voices anymore, just prepare for the pain that is coming. Breathe.

"…they were wrong." Sam is saying. He's angry. "You're not malfunctioning." He pauses. "What do you mean, 'reset' you?"

Deep breath. Remember it, terrifying… Another breath. Report. "There is a…chair. I…sit in it. It has clamps, on my arms…while…a machine…closes on my head…electricity, sparks…" oh god… Lean forward, fight the urge to run, or hit something, but your small motion causes a snap of electricity between the bars that makes you jerk back against the wall, as far away as you can get.

"That's what made the burned spots on your head? Sam asks, amazed and disgusted.

"Yes."

"Do you remember where this machine was?

Think. "In a bank vault."

"What city?"

"Don't know." Think. "Where I completed my mission, and was captured."

Sam and Natalia look at each other. "Looks like we're going back to Washington." Sam says.

Natalia goes back to her chair and sits, looking at him thoughtfully. "Sergeant Barnes." He frowns. A memory dances, just out of reach. "Your name, your real name, is James Buchanan Barnes. Your friends called you "Bucky". You were a Sergeant in the American 107th Infantry."

Hold your breath, my real name…a spasm of nerves makes you shake all over. Glare at them. Don't show weakness. Speaking slowly, "I am a Winter Soldier. The Soldier doesn't need a name." He tries to calm his breathing as he watches the people on the other side of the bars. Why? "Why are you doing this?" he dares to ask, then grimaces, because now the punishment will come.

"We want to help you." They both say at the same time, look at each other and smile. Natalia looks back and continues, "The Winter Soldier has been arrested for murder. You're…he's going to trial soon." She pauses, thinking. "We want to help you remember who you are, before it starts."

Narrow eyes. "I am a Winter Soldier." Just get this over with.

Sam shifts nervously, but the Widow's face doesn't change. "You were a regular man, an American from Brooklyn, before you became the Winter Soldier." she says. "HYDRA took you, they took your life and your memory we want to help you get it back." Lower your chin, stare at her. Lies.

Natalia sighs. "We had a friend," gesturing at Sam, "who knew you. He would have wanted us to help you."

Think. A friend. Sam's friend. I killed Sam's friend. 'A very famous person', he said. I completed my mission. Take a deep breath. Touch the wall again, look at them from under your hair. They want to hurt me for killing their friend.

"Captain America." They look at each other, Natalia steps closer to the bars, making them crackle.

"Yes. What do you remember about him?

"He was my mission." They know this. Glance at her from under your hair, then back at the floor. Report. "The first time, he chased me after I finished Fury. He tried to stop me but I distracted him and got away. Later, on the highway, I finished Sitwell but he distracted me from my mission to finish the Black Widow." Glance at her warily, but her expression doesn't change. "I tried to kill him but he was strong, and fast. I retreated under cover of an explosion when the back-up team arrived." Pause. "I failed, and was reset." Grimace. A tremor shakes your whole body. Focus.

"He was my mission on the helicarriers. We fought, I shot, stabbed and beat him. He…" He gave up. Take a breath. "He stopped fighting." Glance at them again, they glance at each other, Sam looks at the floor...sad. His friend. Report. "Before I could finish him the floor broke away and he fell into the river, but I went under and found him, pulled him to shore. He was alive. I drew a blade to finish him but he died. Death confirmed. Mission complete." They are staring at me. Frown. Start to sweat a little, what are they going to do.

Sam asks "Who gave you the mission?

"Pierce." My handler. "He said this mission was my most important." Natalia looks at him for a moment, closes her eyes and sighs. She turns to Sam. "Find that photo of Steve before the serum." Sam digs in the stack of folders and comes back with more than one picture. "Show it to him." Sam turns the picture around and holds it as close to the bars as he dares. "Do you remember this man?" she asks.

The picture is old, black and white but brown with age too. It shows a skinny white boy standing in a white t-shirt, looking at something off to his right, out of the picture. Soldiers in the background. He's familiar, somehow, but nothing. Look back at Natalia. Sam switches the picture with another, this one of two boys, one taller than the other, standing in front of a large gate. Cyclone, it says, in giant letters. Faster than Ever.

"You're the tall one, do you remember the boy next to you?

Look at the two boys, young, smiling at the camera. Frown. That's me? And...Steve. "Steve." Remember that day, the thrill of the rollercoaster. "He was so sick, we couldn't go again." Remember him throwing up, just missing your shoes. "He...threw up..."

Something snaps inside your head, it was like someone suddenly opened all the closed windows in your brain, letting in the light. Slam backwards into the wall, your shaky knees give way, slide down to sit on the floor. Steve! Memories come pouring in, remember his bright blue eyes laughing at you, how you finished fights for him, remember how sick he was, bringing medicine, watching out for him. "He was my friend." The pictures in your head pour in, is this me? Am I...remembering? I was a person?

I had a life, before…before? Think. I left for a war but Steve couldn't go? Look up at Natalia and Sam, they're still just watching him. Sit up on your knees. Steve Rogers."Steve Rogers. I knew him. I...took care of him. What happened? Where is he?" Feel confused, angry, hear the metal arm whirring as you clench and unclench your fists. "I left him...I fell..."

They look at each other, Sam turns and sits down in his chair, puts his head in his hands, rubs his face. Natalia looks back at you and asks "Do you remember the war? Fighting as a regular American soldier?"

Watch Sam. What. Shake your head, FOCUS. Think. Remember a war starting, joining the soldiers. "Yes..." see yourself in uniform, feeling pleased, looking good in your Class A's. "I was in the Army...but Steve was 4F, he had...asthma, they wouldn't take him. I was glad." That skinny punk had no business being a soldier. Remember soldier's faces, remember fighting, moving through trees, shooting, always tired, bad food, the cold and mud. Death everywhere. Remember the ripping sound of a German MG42*, men falling, screaming. Shudder.

"Do you remember being captured by the Germans?

Think. See soldiers, friends, disappearing in a blue flame. A huge tank. Troops in black uniforms, masks. A cage. "No…not Germans, HYDRA." Frown.

"Do you remember being rescued?

"Natasha? You sure?" Sam says, his voice low. She looks at him but says nothing. Turns back to you and waits.

Look at the floor. We were in a castle. Remember working, forced to work, abuse, the cage. It's bad. I'm in bad shape. See soldiers, friends? Large mustache. Helping me. I'm so sick, I'm beaten and dragged out by the guards. Strapped to a table. Little man with round glasses. Zola, oh god not... he looks at you and smiles. …Please, no! Cold table, injections that set your blood on fire, screaming, fighting, why can't he just stop! Please stop…

Hear a voice, Sam. "…ok, you're with us, you're not hurt, you're safe here, come back." Look at Sam, he's like a lifeline, pulling you back to reality. Feel the cold floor under your knees, slow your breathing… "That's it, just breathe..." I'm here, I'm not hurt… Lower your head, watch a couple of tears drop down, making dark dots on the grey stripes.

"Everything's ok, you're safe." Look at them, watching him with concern. "Did you escape? Try to remember…" Natalia says, softly.

Shift on the cold floor, reach to the side and put your natural hand on the wall. Deep breath. Think. "I was groggy, flat on my back on a table. Barnes, Sergeant, 32557038..." someone over me…it was… "Steve!" Remember holding on to him. "But he was different, big and strong…" Breathe in sharply to keep your nose from dripping. "Steve found me, he was helping me get out, but Red Skull, Zola, stopped us. They got away but we were trapped up high. Fire all around…I went over a beam to the other side but it fell, Steve had to jump! He was strong, not sick and small anymore…" I leave him alone and the punk volunteers to be a lab rat... Remember a long walk in the cold, everyone injured… "We went slow because of the wounded, but Steve led us all back." Give a small smile.

Remember the satisfaction, the joy of walking into the camp, cheering soldiers lining the road, cheering for Captain Amer…

Hold your breath. Whisper "Captain America."

Disbelief. No. Memory hits you like a flashbang. Steve was Captain America. See him standing tall with the round shield. I KILLED STEVE. I killed... Bend down to the floor, hold your head and cry out. "They made my mission…Steve…" See his bloody body by the river. Gasp out "I didn't remember and I..." Watch water run out of his mouth, hear his long, final exhale.

Leap up, throw your head back, gasping in air. Feel nothing but hate, anger and grief, …oh Stevie I'm sorry I'm sorry…

Sam and Natasha can only watch in helpless shock as you turn and throw yourself on the electrified bars.

Natasha immediately spins to run to the control room as the lights blink, leaving Sam standing there stricken while the screaming, buzzing, electrical nightmare goes on for what feels like minutes, until a fuze blows and the bars go quiet. Barnes crashes to the floor, unmoving.

"S***! …Open the door! Open the bars!" Sam yells out to the control room as he pulls on the bars. "Open the bars goddammit!


*German MG42 - Belt-fed machine gun - /FoWPO_5m8aw or wiki/MG_42