New arm made by Tony Stark/Iron Man and Bruce Banner/The Hulk. I like it, it's better than the other one. Not as heavy and it's not stained red.
Natasha/Black Widow/Natalia? remembers. She says I trained her and that we were friends. The Infiltrator was with us too. She acts cold and on guard but she's sad on the inside.
Clint Barton/Hawkeye and Thor act like I'm just another member of the team. No hate, just some hesitancy and I know why. It's refreshing.
The bird target came again today. Steve calls him Sam. He doesn't hate me but he's not forgetting what I did either. It's okay, not everyone can forget and the Winter Soldier doesn't deserve forgetting.
Steve doesn't forget, but he doesn't judge. He tries not to see his Bucky Barnes but I know he still can. He misses who I used to be and he misses his son. I won't fail this mission and after, maybe I'll decide on a new one around here.
I like it h—
Barnes looks up from his notebook as he hears it. Steve's bedroom is across the hall from the one he's staying in, and even if it wasn't, Barnes knows he would still be able to hear it thanks to the bastardized serum in his veins.
Steve is asleep but his calm heartbeat has begun racing.
Nightmare, Barnes guesses. He himself gets them often, he knows Steve must get them often enough too. He knows he's supposed to comfort Steve though too. He's supposed to, but can he? It's been seventy or so years since Barnes has genuinely comforted someone, and he gets the feeling that anything other than genuine would offend Steve, so using any facades HYDRA equipped him with is out of the question.
Barnes bites his lip for a moment before silently getting up. He leaves his notebook open on his bed to come back to later and walks out of the bedroom. To the left down the hall, the living room is dimly lit, tall shadows lurking in the corners along the walls. Barnes walks the short distance to Steve's bedroom across the hall, hesitating at the door. Does he knock, or just walk in?
He can still hear Steve's heartbeat, a quick pace that says fear and must not leave any witnesses. What? No, not that. This isn't a mission. Well, it could be. It might help, he's thought in missions for so long, he's used to it and anything else is strange and complicated.
Current mission(s):
Rescue Theodore/Black Infiltrator from HYDRA, status: ongoing.
Break Winter Soldier programming, status: ongoing.
Hide from HYDRA, status: ongoing.
Hide from Steve, status: on hold.
New mission:
Comfort Steve, status: unbegun.
Barnes takes a deep breath and reaches for the doorknob, twisting it in as silently as possible. Mission status: begin. Steve's hearing is even better than his, extra caution must be used to ensure the target does not wake—
Not that kind of mission.
Focus. Does he want Steve to wake up? Barnes knows that it could be dangerous, if Steve places him as an enemy when he wakes up, but how else can he stop a nightmare? So that leaves waking him from a safe distance before approaching.
Mission status: ongoing.
The door opens silently. Steve's room looks like a mirror of the guest room Barnes is staying in. The door is in the corner of the room, where a short hallway connects it to the rest of the room. There's a small closet in the left wall of this hallway for shoes and coats and storage. In the open part of the room, the bed is along the right wall, the bathroom and walk-in closet in the left wall. The little hallway is in the left corner, opposite to the row of windows that are currently blacked-out.
The room smells like Steve. It looks like Steve too. Barnes can see the tidiness through the dark, and the drawings decorating the walls. The dark silhouette of a desk stands in the corner next to the hallway, the pale shape of paper resting on top.
Barnes shakes his head; he didn't come to observe. Steve is still sleeping, his body tense as he lay curled up on his side, facing the wall with the door. The blankets are thrown off his body, leaving him in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Barnes swallows tightly, hesitating before he loudly whispers:
"Steve?"
The man is up in an instant. He barely takes a second before he's lunging to pin Barnes against the wall. This of course makes the Winter Soldier programming rear its ugly head and he's parrying Steve's attacks and throwing his own in. They're wrestling through the room, Steve barely holding back and Barnes trying to force the Soldier to remain on defence rather than offense.
Mission: comfort Steve.
Conflict: self defence needed, not comforting.
Conflict resolution: get target to realize he is not a danger.
"Steve!" Barnes hisses out. "It's me!"
"…Buck?" Steve stops mid-punch, his body slowly relaxing as he recognizes him and steps back. A soft frown passes his lips as he wipes a hand down his face. "Buck. God, I'm sorry. I thought…"
Target is relaxed. Strike now.
No.
Warning: mission as risk.
Mission: comfort Steve, not eliminate Steve.
Warning resolved.
Barnes shakes his head with a soft growl, forcing his stance to relax. The Soldier plants his heels firmly but Barnes still manages to shove him away, getting a headache as retaliation.
"Buck?" Steve asks in worry.
"HYDRA?" Barnes asks in return, guessing from where Steve trailed off earlier.
Seeing Barnes is alright but doesn't want to talk, Steve sits on the edge of his bed and nods tiredly, "They were taking you and… and Theo, and I couldn't do anything…"
Barnes only blinks, not saying anything. What does he say? What's comforting in this situation? It's just a nightmare? It's not. We'll get him back? But in what state?
"Bad dream? Budge over, I'll stay with ya, Stevie."
The memory appears sharp in his mind. A boy like Steve, only a small teenager, sits in front of him on a small bed. He looks tired and sickly, not ill but frail. This boy only nods tiredly and lies down, letting the person that Barnes was lie tucked up behind him, keeping him warm under a thin blanket.
With this in mind, Barnes moves closer. Steve only watches him, yelping in confusion when Barnes shoves him down on the bed. He gives no chance to protest before he's lying next to Steve, tugging the blankets over them both and pulling the man up against his chest. His metal hand is cool against Steve's body but there's no protests from either of them. Steve only remains tense for a moment before letting himself relax and curl closer to Barnes.
"Thanks, Buck," he whispers, lacing his fingers with Barnes flesh ones tucked under his chin.
And Barnes knows just from his voice that this isn't Captain America. This is purely Steve Rogers. This is the man who doesn't know what to do, thrust into a new time with a new body and no purpose besides wearing a mask no one can see through. The little kid from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight. Who loves more than respects.
"Till the end of the line," Barnes finds himself murmuring softly.
Near his fingers, he can feel Steve's heart skip a beat. He presses even closer to Barnes, a choked whimper passing his lips.
"Till the end of the line."
•••
It's a week after Barnes' moving into the Tower that Tony decides he deserves a night out.
He sets the offer on the table for the others but no one except Natasha feels like joining him. Steve is too wound up by the thought of the Cap Junior to truly relax, not to mention that he's whipped by Barnes, who shies away from most public places; Clint has already decided on torturing the two super-soldiers with a movie night; and Bruce has been easily seduced into letting Thor tell him all he knows about Asgardian medicine and any modifications to the infirmary that could possibly make it even better.
But Nastasha has been ruthlessly combing through HYDRA's now-public shit and wants a break, so she's on board with a night out. Tony, however, isn't entirely unconvinced that she's only coming along as a way to keep an eye on him, which he can't decide whether to indignantly protest, or silently let the warmth flutter.
It's too bad none of the others want to join. Not that Tony minds, he's spent thousands of nights just like this, but he can admit some slight disappointment at not being able to show his new fam— teammates his favourite club. Another time, he tells himself, when HYDRA's not on their doorstep.
"Here we are, boss."
The billionaire looks up at Happy's voice. The car is stopped outside the nightclub, the bright orange neon lights easily labelling the place as Club Delirium. There's a line of people waiting outside, a line that Tony breezes past as he leads Natasha inside with a, 'See you later,' to Happy and a, 'Everett! Remember me?' to the bouncer.
The lights inside are dim, casting an ominous red-orange hue over the crowd. The tech hidden in his sunglasses helps Tony see though, JARVIS automatically adjusting the view to make it easier to see yet not change too much of reality. The music is loud and upbeat, easily danceable. The dance floor is crowded like always, but the bar is more deserted. Booths and banquettes line the rest of the walls, as well as an upper floor loft that looks over the dance floor. There are a few private rooms for parties or such, Tony wouldn't know exactly, having never needed one.
"Some place," Natasha says, looking around.
Tony can't tell if she approves or not, damn assassins. That doesn't stop him from leading her to his booth. Okay, it's not his his, but it might as well be! Oh, there's a thought; maybe he should buy the booth, so it's Stark (and friends) only. Add that to the To Do list.
The booths are soft velvet, appearing black in the lighting. A circular table is bolted to the floor in front of it, the booth itself curving around it and forming a small alcove along the wall. Tony slides in one side, Natasha taking the other so they're facing each other. The spy keeps sweeping her eyes across the crowd, analysing and observing and making Tony dizzy.
"What're you in the mood for?" he asks, leaning back in the booth and crossing his legs, one arm resting along the back of the booth. "Drinks, dancing or dick?" Natasha raises an unimpressed brow and Tony continues, "I had to make it alliterate, come on. No? Well, I need a drink."
He raises a hand to grab the attention of the waiter walking past. The uniformed young man stops at their table with a polite smile, and Tony freezes.
"Wait, you're—"
"HYDRA," Natasha growls.
"Wrong." The silver-haired speedster's—argh, what was his name again?—smile drops, his hands clasped behind his back. His accent is easily noticeable yet Tony can't quite place it. "We thought about waiting until you got a little tipsy, but then we decided it would be in our best interests for you to be sober. If you'll follow me, Stark, Miss Romanova."
"It's Romanoff," Natasha hisses. Neither she nor Tony make any move, remaining in the booth though Tony can tell she's ready for a fight. "What do you want?"
"To talk," the HYDRA agent-posing-as-a-waiter replies easily. "Only in a private room, no more."
Tony's eyes narrow slightly. "JARVIS?" There's no reply and he frowns, "JARVIS, you there?"
"JARVIS has been temporarily disabled in this unit," replies a voice who is most definitely not JARVIS. It's feminine, yet still an AI. "If you would please follow Pietro to a private room. You've been looking into the Black Infiltrator, this meeting will prove useful to all parties involved."
Natasha looks at him. Her eyes meet his, and while Tony doesn't speak assassin eye language, he can guess that she's willing to see what this is. Great, so is he.
Despite them being apparently hacked, Tony leaves his sunglasses on as he and Natasha follow Pietro through the crowd. He moves through the people easily, with the skill of someone who's been in raging crowds a lot. Still, it's not hard for Tony to keep up and he knows Natasha is right behind him, likely setting up some sort of audio recording or call to someone in the Tower as they go.
Another waiter, a woman, meets them as they move, the other enhanced person that they saw in HYDRA's mystery base. Her hair is done up in a tight ponytail, the black uniform slim but not tight on her body. She whispers something to her twin, who murmurs something smug back, and they both glance at Tony and Natasha. Then they're moving again, to a small hallway and then into a rectangular room.
The lights here are a steady white, not the orange of outside the room. It takes Tony's eyes a moment to adjust to the difference, blinking as everything comes into focus. The walls are light beige, the floor a dark wood. There's another booth and table here, along with a mini bar, a stripper pole and a banquette on the wall opposite to the booth, a table or two standing along it.
It's the figure typing away on a laptop and sitting at one of the tables along the banquette that draws Tony's attention. He may be wearing a mask like the Winter Soldier's, but the golden hair and the metal hand signature Theodore Rogers. There's a briefcase on his left, probably something important. He looks up as they come in, a pinching in the corners of his eyes giving away his smile.
"So you did decide to talk," he says. A voice modulator in his mask deepens his voice, making it harder to tell just how young he is. He pushes his laptop forward to make room for his elbows to rest on the table and interlaces his fingers. "Come in, sit down."
Tony eyes him suspiciously. The two twins move to sit on the Infiltrator's right, the side farther from the door. Natasha steps forwards to sit at the end of the booth, resting her elbow on the table but keeping her body facing the three HYDRA agents. Tony, on the other hand, doesn't sit down. He instead paces slowly, mind already bursting with questions.
"How did you know we would be here?" He starts with the simplest one he can think of. "And how'd you disable JARVIS?"
"It was only a matter of time before you came here," the Infiltrator replies with a dismissive wave. "There are enough payments to this club to signify you come here often enough. We just lied in wait. Pietro and Wanda decided on jobs, and when we saw your devices heading towards here, I came to wait. As for your AI… I'm a hacker. It wasn't hard."
Tony nods in understanding, humming, "I would hire you if it weren't for the whole HYDRA thing. Kind of a turn off, you know?"
"Trust me, I do." The Infiltrator's eyes harden into ice. He continues with a voice hard like steel, "There are a number of things I want to discuss."
"We're listening," Natasha says. Her expression is unreadable, in full assassin mode. "Just know, the other Avengers know where we are. If you try to kidnap or kill us, you'll have them to deal with."
A low chuckle passes the Infiltrator's lips, amusement in his eyes. "Hurtful, Natalia. But we don't want to hurt you."
"Much," Wanda throws in, an accent like her brother's heavy in her voice. "We don't want to hurt you much."
"Business or personal?" Tony asks, "'Cause if it's personal, you'll need an appointment. I'm kinda busy."
The twins sneer at him, and Tony gets the distinct feeling that yes, it's personal. He raises his hands in half of an apology and half of a placating gesture and while Wanda still seems spiteful, both HYDRA volunteers lower their hackles.
"What is this about, Zola?" Natasha asks coldly.
Tony does not startle when the Infiltrator's fist slams down on the table in front of him. He's risen to stand, hands planted on the table as he glares icy daggers at the red headed spy. Wanda and Pietro both look alert, ready to move if they have to. Nastasha's eyes narrow but the Infiltrator is already growling:
"Never call me that again."
"No? You had no problem with it before."
The Infiltrator snarls furiously, and Tony can see Steve slamming his fist down on the table of the conference room. The young man in front of him looks a lot like his dad, more so than Tony imagined he would. It's almost eerie, like seeing Steve with that black mask and cold eyes.
"That was before," the Infiltrator hisses. "I seem to recall you had no problem with murdering anyone the Red Room pointed at, hmm?"
Natasha's eyes narrow even further but she nods once. "Point. What are we here for?"
"We need shelter," Pietro answers. He sits relaxed in the banquette, platinum hair pushed back from his face. "Shelter safe from HYDRA. Somewhere they won't find us easily."
"Why?" Tony asks rather impatiently, tapping his foot against the floor. "Clearly something happened between you and HYDRA. Mind clueing us in? Trust exercise and all that?"
The Infiltrator tilts his head and seems to think before replying, "You saw when I spoke to Wanda and Pietro. I believe in an illusion courtesy of the god Heimdall, correct?"
Tony's about to ask, 'how the hell do you know that?' but Natasha beats him to speaking. Fine by him, let the assassin do the talking. She's better at this spy game anyway.
"You've hacked the Tower." She says it calmly but a bolt of ice runs down Tony's spine. "How long?"
"The day the Soldier came to you." The response is simple, like a comment about the weather. "You viewed one of HYDRA's files, I traced it to you. I've had access to your Tower for a number of days now."
"So you know the bionic staring machine is with us," Tony says, crossing his arms. "You're not getting him back, by the way. He's free, and he's staying that way."
The Infiltrator hums in thought but doesn't reply to that, instead returning to his previous topic. "I was recruiting them in an effort to escape HYDRA."
Natasha raises a brow, unconvinced. "You? Escape HYDRA?"
"Please do not antagonize him," the unknown AI in Tony's sunglasses speaks loud enough for Natasha to hear.
"I'm done," the Infiltrator says, hate evident in his voice. "HYDRA stole me, used me for their own dirty work. I'm getting out."
"And you want us to keep you safe?" Tony asks, raising a brow.
"No, I want you to keep them safe." The Infiltrator waves a hand at Pietro and Wanda, neither of whom look happy. Whether it's from being protected by the Avengers, or being protected without the Infiltrator, Tony can't tell. "I can manage on my own if that's what it takes for you to take them in. But I want to speak to America's golden boy."
"Who, Capsicle? Why?"
The Infiltrator's eyes narrow and Tony can almost see his sneer through the mask. "He's the only one who knows who I am. Who I would be, if it weren't for the fucking bastards that took me."
Natasha hums in interest, leaning forward slightly, "So you know he's your father."
"You know HYDRA told me Arnim Zola was my sperm donor, Natalia," he spits in reply. "It wasn't long after getting into your system that you gave it away."
"That song, 'Run, Rabbit, Run,'" Tony realizes. "That was you testing Rogers to be sure."
The Infiltrator nods once and clasps his hands in front of him. "HYDRA is under the impression I'm hunting the Winter Soldier to drag him back. That was a lie to get away without question. I am here to fuck HYDRA over and destroy it. Truly destroy it, every goddamn head."
"And how can we trust you?" Natasha asks skeptically. "You were raised as a spy. We could never know if you mean anything you're spewing."
"Were you not also raised a spy?" It's clear to Tony that he's smiling sweetly, his voice gives it away even with the modulator. Natasha growls but the Infiltrator continues, "I thought you would say that, so I brought a little gift."
He reaches to the briefcase next to him. As soon as the smallest crack opens, Tony can see the blue light escaping it. He stands next to Natasha, glancing at her for a guess at what to do. Her gaze is steady, expression unreadable, even as the Infiltrator uses his metal hand to take out a glowing blue stone.
"I believe you recognize this?" he says, holding up the gem of Loki's sceptre. Slowly, Natasha nods once and the Infiltrator continues, "I stole it. The entire sceptre would have been a little harder to take, you know? It's a tad temperamental, doesn't like being touched by skin."
He waves the palm of his other hand, showing off a set of near-healed burns on his fingertips.
"The others who tried touching it died or lost their minds," Pietro supplies. "HYDRA killed them. Theo was lucky, and he didn't even really touch it. Just got close to doing so."
Tony hums in thought, mind racing to analyze the gem even as it's returned to the briefcase. The Infiltrator closes the case then places it on the floor, resting one foot on it.
"Do we have a deal?" he asks, resting his chin on clasped fingers. "What do your friends on the Tower's communal floor think? They are still listening, aren't they, Natalia?"
Natasha's eyes narrow but she doesn't reveal anything. With a soft laugh, the Infiltrator turns his laptop around so they can see the screen, revealing a live camera footage of the Tower's communal living room where the others are all gathered and sitting. It looks like Clint's phone is on the coffee table, likely on speaker so they can all hear.
The screen suddenly changes to a video call and Tony is now facing the ceiling of the living room. He and Natasha are both in range of the camera, visible to the team back at the Tower. None of the three HYDRA or former HYDRA agents can see the screen, but they don't seem bothered at all. On the screen, Clint picks up the phone, showing his worried face.
"Is it really the gem from the sceptre?" are his first words.
"Looks like it," Natasha replies, glancing up at the Infiltrator. He sits there watching them, arms crossed and waiting. Natasha glares at him then looks back at the laptop screen, "We don't really have a choice, do we?"
"It's a good way to keep an eye on them," Tony adds in, watching the other Avengers try to cram into the camera view behind Clint. "And we could use all the info we can get on HYDRA. Plus the super twins, sounds like a deal to me."
"Me too," Steve says. He says it quickly, not with the careful analysis of Captain America but with all the feel of a worried dad. "If it backfires… I'll deal with them myself."
"Aw, is that concern I hear?" the Infiltrator mocks.
Natasha's eyes snap up to meet his and she's sneering, "Hurt him, and I'll deal with you."
The Infiltrator doesn't reply but Tony can sense his smile. It's sweet, mocking, and Tony suddenly feels less inclined to let this character near his team. Still, his previous points stand. Having the Black Infiltrator living in the Tower would be beneficial. It would obviously be a risk too, but Tony's never really been one to play it safe.
"It's a deal," he says, clapping his hands together. "All three of you can live in the Avengers Tower, under our protection, in exchange for your cooperation and any information we may want, now and for the foreseeable future."
The Infiltrator's smile seems to widen and he gives the briefcase a shove with his foot, sending it sliding across the floor to stop at Tony's feet. "Deal."
"But if we find out you're using us, reporting back to HYDRA, or betraying us in any way," Natasha says firmly, "The deal is off and we will treat you as any other HYDRA agent."
"We could say the same to you," Wanda replies coldly. "If you betray our safety, we will retaliate."
•••
There's a tightness in Steve's chest.
He can see the seriousness in Natasha's eyes even through the screen, plus the distance she's at from it. Tony seems all business, tense yet relaxed at the same time. It's the stance of someone used to addressing high odds and always coming out on top.
The briefcase that must contain the mind control gem is still at Tony's feet. He picks it up and places it on the table next to Natasha, opening it quickly to be sure it's not a trick. Steve sees no move to touch the gem, something he's grateful for. It's possible Theodore was lying, but that's not a risk Steve wants to take.
"Alright," Natasha says, standing up as Tony closes the briefcase again. "Let's go."
Then the call ends. Steve blinks in surprise, having seen no hand move at the edge of the screen to indicate someone was about to end the video call in the first place. Then again, Clint never answered the call in the first place, it just started on its own.
The Captain America part of Steve's brain says danger, unknown skill, use extreme caution. The Steve Rogers part, however, is panicking.
They're coming here. Theodore is coming here.
Four years (sixty-eight if you want to be technical) since he last saw his son and now he's coming here. He's not the young three-year-old Steve remembers, nor is he the little boy who wrote hopeful letters to him that always lifted the spirits of the Commandos. There's a tightness in his chest and Steve isn't sure if it's hopeful anticipation or battle-ready preparation.
"You'll have to be careful, Cap," Clint says as the tension in the room slowly relaxes ever so slightly. Steve looks up and he notices that Bucky does too. "I hate saying it, but if this doesn't work out… We're going to have to take him down."
Steve nods heavily, letting out a long sigh. "I know… I know."
Do we need this to be a Stucky fic? It could go either way and I can't decide. Personally, I ship Stucky at various levels of intensity depending on my mood, but it's not the focus of this fic. It could be a healing/comfort element, but so could just platonic Steve and Bucky.
Let me know what you think.