That's how the Soldier finds himself standing outside the main entrance of the Avengers tower. He hesitates at the door, knowing he isn't welcome, but the reminder of his new mission forces him to stay. This mission requires help and the Soldier is not willing to fail.

He looks around cautiously for the umpteenth time, unsure of whether he should enter or wait for someone to leave so he can talk to them then. He's still armed, the Soldier doesn't let himself ever be without some form of defence, but he doesn't want to look like a threat either and he knows that despite his civilian wear, he is a threat. The conflict is strange and the Soldier doesn't like it. He turns away from the door in frustration and hesitance, clenching his fists. Why can't he just find the strength to go in so he can start his mission? He's never had trouble like this, it's new and he wishes it were gone.

The opening of a door behind him has the Soldier whirling around. Steve Rogers holds up his hands non-threateningly but his shield is strapped to his arm, showing he's on guard. The Soldier watches him step out of the building, letting the blond study him.

"Captain," the Soldier's voice is rough as he studies Rogers in return.

"It's Steve," comes the reply. "Call me Steve. What are you doing here, Buck? You've been standing out here for half an hour."

The Soldier frowns at that. He can normally tell how much time passes but that seems to be malfunctioning along with the rest of him. When he blinks, he sees Rogers looking at him expectantly. He feels defensive, unused to sharing information, but he knows he needs to. It's what the mission requires.

"Mission." Rogers' grip tightens on his shield and the Soldier continues, "Self-appointed mission."

"Self-appointed?" Rogers asks, tilting his head.

The Soldier nods. "They have him, Cap— …Steve." He looks down as the name rolls off his tongue, familiar for having not remembering ever saying it. He glances back up before continuing, "He… He's still alive."

"Who is, Buck?" Rogers frowns in confusion.

The Soldier blinks slowly, his voice quiet as he tensely replies, "Your son."

It isn't hard to see how Rogers tenses. The Soldier can see how his posture straightens, how his muscles stiffen. Blue eyes search the Soldier's expression, disbelieving, hopeful and scared of what that hope could mean.

"Hang on, Captain Rogers has a son?"

The Soldier instantly tenses, eyes darting around on alert at the voice from an unknown source.

Seeing this, Rogers tries to reassure him. "It's alright, Buck, it's just—"

"Did you not know that?" Another unknown voice cuts him off, speaking to the first. "It's like common hero stuff. Ooo, what happened to Mini Rogers and all that conspiracy stuff? No? Man, what rock have you been living under?"

"Asgard is under no rock."

"Shut up, guys," Rogers says, looking back at the building to where the Soldier can now spot a well-concealed camera. He turns back to the Soldier and dares asking, "Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain he's still alive, Buck?"

The Soldier nods and Rogers lets out a soft gasp. The smallest of hopeful smiles appears on his lips before it disappears and a strike of realization crosses Rogers' face: the Soldier could not know this if his son is anywhere but HYDRA.

Expression now grim, Rogers turns and gestures for the Soldier to follow. "Come on," he says, "You can meet the team and we can figure out what to do."

The Soldier only nods and silently follows the man inside, staying behind him as he's supposed to. Handlers never let him closer than five feet despite the fact they wouldn't be safe if he decided to attack.

Rogers realizes this after a moment and turns, beckoning for the Soldier to walk next to him. The Soldier hesitates, debating if it's a trick or not before he remembers: this is not a handler, this is not HYDRA and someone who seemed to care so much for him would not punish him for wrongdoing. With that in mind, the Soldier steps closer, waiting to sense Rogers recoil back but he never does.

Instead he merely smiles gently and continues through the lobby to the elevator. The Soldier's eyes dart around the room, taking in every detail they can, picking out escape routes and items that could function as improvised weapons. There's a ding and the elevator doors slide open, letting the two super soldiers step in.

"We'll meet you in the nap room, Capsicle," says the second voice from before and the elevator starts moving without Rogers pressing any buttons.

"Alright, Stark," Rogers replies to the wall.

The Soldier frowns at the name. "Stark?"

Rogers looks at him and nods, "Tony Stark, Iron Man. Do you remember Howard at all? We knew him back in the war."

There's a flash of a face, something deep in the Soldier's memory. Laughter, a snarky response, dozens of ideas and innovations.

"...He had the flying car," the Soldier says slowly.

Rogers smiles in surprise and nods, "Yeah, he did. Never came to pass, did it?"

"No…"

There's another memory. A long, isolated road. A single car. A mission. The Soldier feels a familiar nausea twist in his stomach, the same feeling he always gets when he becomes lucid enough to realize and understand what he's been used to do, who he's been forced to kill. He can sense Rogers looking at him worriedly but he says nothing. Not yet.

The elevator doors slide open to reveal an open hall. The Soldier is once again following Rogers, glancing at the doors they pass until the wall ends on the left side, opening into a large conference room. The right wall of the hallway continues to the exterior wall of the building, tall windows giving a view of the surrounding city. Black office chairs surround a long glass table in the center of the room and the wall behind one end of the table is a screen currently showing the Avengers logo.

It's all very sleek and high-tech and new to the Soldier. He looks around slowly, taking it in bit by bit until he's comfortable that should the need arise, he has a guaranteed escape. With that done, the Soldier turns to focusing on the five others in the room, the Avengers. He can recognize their faces but he has no names to match. His previous handlers only showed him faces to place as threats, there was no need for conversation requiring names.

Reminded of his new side-mission, the Soldier turns his gaze to the one he decides to be Tony Stark. The man looks the most like the vague image he has of Howard but just to be sure, he asks slowly:

"Stark?"

The man nods, looking confused. "The one and only. What is it, Snowflake?"

The Soldier frowns at the name, not understanding it. He doesn't stop staring at Stark though, studying him. Stark stares back for a long moment before he begins to get uncomfortable.

"What's going on?" he asks in a stage-whisper to the others in the room.

"Buck, what're you doing?" Rogers asks, sending a glare at a short-haired brunet when he snickers at Stark.

The Soldier shrugs off the hand placed on his shoulder. He hesitates again, unfamiliar with the regret and guilt clawing up his throat. Seeming to sense this, Stark's expression melts from confusion to suspicion and the Soldier can feel his throat close up even more.

Finally, he looks down and mumbles, "I'm sorry… I wish it didn't happen but it did, I killed him and I can't take it back. Punish me if you want but know that I am sorry... I liked Howard, he was snarky but a good man."

A thick silence fills the room. The Soldier doesn't need to look up to know that Stark is furious. The shock is just as thick, radiating from the occupants of the room.

"Buck," Rogers chokes out.

Fast footsteps across the room along with the near-silent whir of mechanics penetrate the air but the Soldier doesn't raise his head. Not even as the footsteps stop in front of him.

"Look at me," Stark orders, his voice sharp.

The Soldier obeys, meeting Stark's eyes. The other man studies him closely, analyzing him like a mere experiment that needs assessing. One hand is enclosed in a strange glove with a glowing blue palm, armour the Soldier realizes. When Stark pulls this hand back in a fist, the Soldier doesn't react. He merely watches, knowing this is his punishment.

The punch to his cheek is sharp but not enough to knock him back. The repulsor blast to his chest does that though. The Soldier makes no sound and lies staring at the ceiling for a moment trying to catch his breath from his harsh landing. He can hear the alarmed clamour from the others in the room as he gets up with the grace of an assassin, somewhere between smooth and tense. Rogers is at his side, speaking rapidly in worry.

"Tony, he—"

"Deserved it," Stark replies curtly, the glove disappearing again into a wristband. The Soldier nods in agreement and Stark points at him, "See, he agrees. Now, I could go on a whole rant about what the hell, you bastard, but I won't. He's clearly guilty and he said a genuine sorry first thing so while I have problems with this, I'll take one for the team and set them aside for the time being. Though let me ask, Snowflake, how long did you remember that? Aren't you supposed to be some amnesiac or something?"

The Soldier's brows furrow as it takes him a moment to understand Stark's words but he answers, "In the elevator. The Captain mentioned Howard. He had a flying car. Do you?"

Despite himself, Stark smiles slightly, "Nope. I have a flying suit instead." He waves a hand at the others, "This is the team, Snowflake. Clint Barton, arrow-guy. Natasha Romanoff, not black and not a widow. Doctor Bruce Banner, giant green monster. Thor, sparky god. Capsicle and yours truly." Then Stark turns to the screen at one end of the room and speaks, "JARVIS, search HYRDA's now-public files for Dad."

"You likely won't find it," the Soldier says, watching the screen change rapidly, showing a spinning circle as a loading screen.

Rogers leads the Soldier to sit down at the table, this side empty. The other five people in the room sit across from them while Stark takes a place on Rogers' other side, a few chairs down.

When a short list of results appears, documents and a video file, Stark sends the Soldier a smug look. "Oh really?"

The Soldier shakes his head, speaking slowly as he pieces together the information his mind presents, "Those might not be complete. HYDRA keeps important things somewhere else…"

"This looks complete to me," Stark replies. He looks over the list on the large screen displayed and says, "Play the video, Jarv. Seems like a good place to start."

The video file opens. It's a grainy image, a forest and a road. A car comes onto the screen, crashing into a tree. A figure on a motorcycle speeds by. Then the screen is filled with a greyscale video of a screaming woman, her face taking up the frame and her shriek piercing the air. Everyone but the two assassins jump, startled with their hearts racing.

A mirthful cackle and the screen turns black. There's only text now, words saying: Held by the Black Infiltrator.

"Holy crap," Barton says, eyes wide. "HYDRA likes that trick?"

"Who is this Black Infiltrator?" Thor asks, eyes the screen like it might suddenly attack him. "What does he infiltrate?"

"Anything he can," the Soldier replies, staring at the screen. "He's called the Black Fox too. HYDRA's best hacker and spy."

"Well if he's HYDRA, how good can he be?" Stark says with a smirk.

Rogers, on the other hand, is pale. He can recognize that cackle, no matter how much he wishes he couldn't. The sound echoes in his mind, familiar yet different at the same time. And he knows:

His son is indeed alive.

And brainwashed by HYDRA.

•••

The sensation of waking up isn't exactly a new one. Not to me.

The cold seeps away slowly, being replaced by warmth. Light replaces darkness and awareness replaces sleep.

"Date and time?" I rasp as soon as I can, blinking slowly as my cryostasis chamber hisses and opens.

"January thirteenth, twenty-fourteen," replies a voice. It's unfamiliar but they rarely are recognizable. "The Winter Soldier has gone rogue."

"Straight to the point," I mumble, pushing myself up. My clothing, a black t-shirt, a black leather jacket over that, black jeans and dark combat boots, is stiff with the cold but it warms quickly, giving me more movement. "I like it. You want me to track him down?"

The man in front of me nods and holds out a hand, "Baron Wolfgang von Strucker. It's an honour, Black Infiltrator."

"It's Theo," I reply, shaking his hand but waving him away when he moves to help me stand. "That or Zola. My father's name should live on, after all."

"Of course," von Strucker replies, bowing his head. "Your pills."

I sigh but take the small white pill he holds out, swallowing it dry. Damn disease of mine but at least my father found a way to hold it back. He follows behind me as I make my way to the closest screen to update myself on the world. I scan through HYDRA's news in the program I made for this exact purpose, frowning.

"HYDRA's main drive was made public?"

"Ah, yes," von Strucker says. He scowls, "Pierce failed to stop it."

"And these… Avengers?" I scoff, "A team of world-saving superheroes. What a joke. How much destruction do they leave behind?"

"Much of New York two years ago."

"Yes, I see that…" I scroll through the HYDRA file of this alien invasion before focusing on one part, "You have the supposed-god's scepter?"

"We do. We're trying to utilize its power to enhance—"

"Boring," I cut him off, waving a hand. I walk towards the door with von Strucker following me like a puppy. The facility is just like I remember it. Stone walls with modern features. The technology is new but it's nothing I can't figure out. "Now, about this data leak. That Pierce guy, he's dead, right?"

"He is. All the valuable files weren't released in full, of course, only the previews kept on the main drive. The reports that you suggested this as a back-up plan were right, it was a good idea to keep the files separate—"

"Of course it was. Don't put all your eggs in one basket, especially not your golden ones, Baron."

"Herr Strucker," an older looking man looks up as we enter the main floor of the base. He pales when he sees me before quickly bowing his head, "Mr. Zola, it's an honour."

"Yeah yeah, I'm famous. You're not, however. Who are you?"

"Doctor List, sir."

"Neat-o. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an Asset to track down."

I head for my station in the corner, a small wall of screens and a few tinkering bits and bobs, when someone clears their throat behind me. I turn back and raise a brow and von Strucker speaks:

"His last mission, Zola." He holds out a file and I take it, scanning the title before looking back up at him. "We want this done as quietly as possible, without alerting anyone. The Asset reportedly showed signs of malfunctioning before he went rogue; what will you do if you can't get him back?"

A flash of… something strikes me at that. What would I do? I remember the Soldier. He doesn't remember me, but I remember him. It's strange but I like him. I feel attached to him and rogue or not, he's… someone I trust? I shake off the feeling; I have a job to do.

Instead of telling these new handlers about this feeling however, I smile sweetly and reply, "Well, we have more Winter Soldiers, do we not?"