James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes was having some problem with his memory.
For decades all that he had answered to had been 'the Asset', while his enemies called him the Winter Solder.
Pain, killing, pain, cold, pain, killing, pain, cold. It was all that he had known for what felt like an eternity.
And then out of nowhere comes Steve Rogers, -Captain America-, -Target-, little Stevie from Brooklyn, and turned everything around. Or rather, turned everything right.
The point was, that he had his good days and his bad days. Some days he was sure that every person coming through the door was either going to kill him or order him to kill someone else. Those days he didn't leave his room, just waiting and avoiding all food that was given to him.
Other days he woke up and freaked out over the weird metal arm attached to his body, convinced that it was still World War 2 and that he was still in Brooklyn. Those days it took Steve hours to calm him down and even convince him that he actually was the little runt that used to run around getting his ass kicked in alleyways.
Then there were days like this, days when he remembered everything that he was, from the young soldier Bucky and Steve's best friend, to the Winter Soldier and ruthless assassin.
Thanks to a lot of therapy and Steve's endless patience and support was doing wonders for his bettering, and the good days were getting more frequent every week.
Of course the last few weeks of calm were also helping a lot... No sudden alarm going of, summoning his best friend away to battle something he wasn't cleared to help with. No explosions of enemies trying to break into the tower (the last one that tried had gone through his own bedroom window and would never eat with utensils again... not after he slammed the window down and severed most of the guy's fingers. The bastard should be grateful that is was Bucky's sleep he had disturbed and not the Soldier's...)
It was only thanks to the last few weeks of calm that he didn't accidentally activated the Soldier when something connected with his metal arm, making a soft 'tink' noise on impact, when he was slumped in an armchair by the window, trying to get some sun while he read a first account history-book.
Jumping in surprise, Bucky surveyed the room for possible enemies. Finding none, he let himself stare at the small paper-clip that had landed on the floor next to his armchair.
The little piece of metal had Clint Barton written all over it... metaphorically.
Stark was more of a person that walked right up to you and poked you with an electric stick (Yes, that has happened. It was his first week at the tower and the Soldier woke up and tossed the couch out a window. Couch #5).
Steve didn't want to do anything that might even have the slightest chance of setting the Soldier off again.
Dr. Banner was more interested in keeping his own monster at bay to bother with him.
Natasha wouldn't throw anything at him if it wasn't a knife meant to kill.
Thor didn't even know what a paper-clip was!
Falcon and Ant-man were both too new in the tower, like himself, to dare to upset anyone.
And the Witch and Vision were too focused on each other to even notice him.
So yes, that left Barton; the sharpshooter, assassin and self-proclaimed prank-master.
Bucky seemingly went back to reading his book, but was stealthily sweeping his eyes across the room again. This time with a real suspect in mind.
The door? No, it was closed. The window? Too much glass to be able to hide, and too far up without any contraptions. The ceiling? No hiding-places and no foothold. The ventilation? Yes, there! A shadow of movement, a blond hair and a glint of metal.
Satisfied with his findings, he went back to actually reading.
30 minutes later, he felt his patience thinning dangerously for every 'tink' that sounded in his ear. The annoying bird in the vents had used the time to hit different places on the arm, after the realization that it sounded 'tink' sounded differently depending on where you hit, and was now trying to play some kind of tune on the increasingly annoyed assassin's metal arm.
While the Captain America-theme song was amusing the first time he got it right, after the fifth time he was getting the urge to kill, and that was while he was Bucky and not the Soldier...
Bucky threw his metal arm out quickly, resulting in a glint of metal, a startled squeak and a satisfied smile. The smile evolved into a chuckle at the whine from the vents, "What is it with you creepy assassins and my hair!"
Another glint of metal made Bucky raise his metal arm and caught the knife that he himself had thrown at the bird in the vents between two fingers.
He glanced at the vents then and gave a smirk at the blond head of hair that was sticking out with a glower on his face, "I thought you wanted me to even it out for you", he answered smoothly.
Sure enough, the sharpshooter's hair now had two almost even cuts on both sides of his head, making it look like he had a subtle mohawk, if not a little lopsided.
"You and Natasha are conspiring against me! Just because you two aren't allowed to mar my stunning face and gorgeous body doesn't mean that you can attack my beautiful blond locks!", the entire upper body was currently sticking out of the vents so that the other man could wave his arms around as he argued with the very uninterested Bucky.
Bucky listened to the annoyed tweeting of the bird on one ear as he could finally concentrate on his book again, "Uh-huh", he hummed to the other man distractedly.
When the complaining suddenly stopped, Bucky glanced at the vents and met the glare with another smirk, "This isn't over...", the blond muttered as he backed back into the vents and closed it with a 'bang'.
Once the sounds of the bird's retreat had faded into nothing, Bucky just continued reading but not before sending a wink towards the small red-head at the door, holding what he was pretty sure was a camera. He hoped she got enough blackmail and that she would let him take a look himself at a later date.
Back at his nest, Clint ran his hand through his hair as he looked at his reflection.
It didn't actually look that bad...
He might actually spare the frozen tin-man his revenge.
Taking out his own knife, he set about to even out the sides a bit so that it wouldn't look like his head was constantly crooked.
Next: Special guest - Peter
