Thank you for the support already! x
When Rhodey learned of the attack on Toni's entourage, his stomach dropped. He didn't believe it—couldn't believe it.
And when they arrived, it was to a horror show.
But there was no Toni among the dead bodies and injured. (Too many dead, not enough just injured. Even then to many didn't survive their injuries.)
The only sign she'd been there was her StarkPhone. As broken as it was.
The search started immediately, there was a part of Rhodey that believed they'd find her in a matter of days or even weeks—but not three months and not to mention someone already having beaten them to it.
He'd not expected to find a man dressed in dark tactical gear not suited for the heat piggybacking Toni through the unrelenting desert.
Even when showing signs of dehydration, never once did he allow it to interrupt the near march in his steps or unshakeable determined furrow of his brows. Rhodey wondered if he'd have stopped before his body gave out on him, the strong and tense way he held himself said no, he'd soldier on until his last breath.
(Rhodey didn't understand the man's determination—how did he know Toni? Was he held captive alongside her? Was there a bond forged in the unknown horrors they'd seen and experienced?)
But the man's body failing on him wasn't necessary as he had the helicopters land as quickly as possible. He ignored the way the strange tensed, reaching for the gun on his hip until Toni had started making a grabby hand, a whine escaping her throat.
Rhodey had seen Toni in a lot of different situations—completely and utterly drunk out of her mind, on the verge of passing out of exhaustion, sinking into a hole of horrors her mind conjured, and many more, but this was the worst.
However as Toni drank the water she'd been given, Rhodey watched on, heart in his throat because his best friend was alive, injured and traumatised, but alive. The guy, the unfamiliar person who Rhodey had no idea was, none of his connection gave him anything—not a single bit—was a complete mystery. He'd not spoken a word, even when they tried to get a name or something. It made him nervous.
Rhodey watched as Toni eyed the dangerous-looking metal arm the man bore like she was going to drool.
He didn't doubt it, but she was visibly restraining herself—some sort of understanding flickering into her eyes and Rhodey's stomach drops as one of her hands subconsciously raised to her chest where he'd noticed but not said a word, about the strange object there.
His heartbeat painfully when she knocked a piece of fabric out of the way and all he sees is metal and a blue glow—and scar tissue around the metal.
It was attached to her chest.
He thinks had he not seen everything he had in the army, he might have puked at the sight of it.
"Platypus?" Rhodey met Toni's eyes, and he noticed the way the man now had Toni's canteen, chugging the rest of the water—it was an uncomfortable but understanding realisation to know he'd not trusted them with water. It was a show of restraint also, especially when so dehydrated.
"I need low-key transport home, don't tell anyone I'm back yet."
The was words left unsaid—something was wrong, something Toni didn't want to become public knowledge or even semi-public knowledge to those around her.
"After that, I've got a press conference to do. But first, I gotta figure out what to do with Darling over here." Toni turns back to him, eyes twinkling and grinning but it's nothing like her old smile. Rhodey understands. "What do ya say, gonna let me take you home, Darling?"
The Asset was…. The Asset found himself confused. This Handler was nothing like those before her, she asked and nor did she demand anything of him.
(Yet, his mind whispered.)
Albeit he'd only been at her side for a short amount of time, but all former Handlers were demanding and more than willing to order within those first few hours because he was their Asset, he was only thawed to complete the mission.
(The Asset acknowledged he was not meant to ask questions, nor feel emotions as they were hindrances. But he could not stop the confusion that twisted at his insides because of this woman.)
But he supposed that this time the mission was different. This time it seemed that he was to guard the Handler.
(Toni is what the dark-skinned soldier, Rhodey, had called her, his mind supplied.)
He had never been given a mission to protect a Handler—to act as a bodyguard—before.
The Handler was also strange, she acted nothing like he expected—knew—Handlers were like. They controlled their facial expressions, voices ordering and filled with superiority. This Handler's was the complete opposite, her face was only partly controlled, but she made no conscious action to hide her emotions, like those before her. What she did try to hide seemed to have been wired into over many years.
(Like us, the other's voice whispered, even if the other was not actually conscious—he hadn't been in a long time, not truly.)
He'd just have to study the situation more.
Exiting the plane, his Handler waved off the gurney the medics brought over. The Asset believed she should seek further medical care, but he was the Asset and she was the Handler; he was the subordinate—he would not question her judgement.
Handler greeted the ginger-haired woman. "Your eyes are red, tears for your long lost boss?" Her tone was teasing.
Handler knew her—the term boss meant the woman worked for Handler, but the causal greeting let the Asset know they were more on familiar terms than just work-related.
"Tears of joy." The woman answered, lips curling up. "I hate job hunting."
The Asset was unsure if… Ah, it clicked for the Asset, the woman was joking.
Handler greeted the male wearing black sunglasses. She called him 'Happy'; Asset filed that away. Now he just had to learn the—assistant? He believed her to be—woman's name.
He listened as the Handler rejected the offer for a hospital, her shoulders tensing slightly that the Asset did not miss. Hospitals unnerved her? He must make sure to listen and watch her reaction more when it came to health issues. It would not be ideal for her to become ill.
The Asset would not allow her to put herself into such a position. He was here to protect her after all.
Toni entered her home with ideas whirling in her mind and a determination to learn Darling's name. He seemed confused when she'd inquired about a name, his brows furrowed and his eyes lit with it. It was the first sort of emotion she'd gotten from him since their meeting.
Toni would call that a success.
"Welcome home, ma'am." JARIVS's voice left tears stinging Toni's eyes.
"It's good to be home, baby boy." She sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted by just hearing JARVIS's familiar voice.
Toni watched as Darling tensed however, eyes flickering and scanning the room in search of the disembodied voice.
"JARVIS is an AI, Darling. He runs the house." Toni explained, watching as his eyes flashed to her. "I probably wouldn't last a week without him helping me."
"I do believe a week is being generous, ma'am." JARVIS mused.
Toni gapped, hand covering her heart. "Rude. Where did you learn such behaviour? I sure didn't code it into you! What have you been doing these three months?"
Darling tilted his head, seeming to watch the interaction between her and JARVIS.
"I'm sure you already know the answer to that, Ma'am." JARIVS's answered drily. "But may I inquire about your guest?"
"Ah!" Toni grinned, rubbing her hands together. "I need you to run a facial recognition scan for me, J."
"As you wish."
"Oh, and order a pizza for me would you?" Toni turned back to the soon-to-be-named man. "You like pizza right? Please tell me you've have it before!"
He blinked—then he shook his head and Toni gapped at him. "You… you've never at a pizza?"
He tilted his head, Toni wonders if he could speak, maybe he was mute?
"We'll just have to fix that then!"
Her first plan of action was to create another Arc-Reactor—a stronger one because her current wasn't going to last.
As she wandered down the steps to her workshop, taking one step at a time rather than her usual two because she didn't have the energy and sure as hell didn't want to fall down them, JARVIS voices about his discovery of her savour's identity.
"Why the hesitation, Baby-J?"
Toni watched as Darling took in the sight of her workshop with a glint of—she believed it to be anyway—curiosity in his eyes.
"Well, facial recognition matches up to one Sargent James Barnes, legally assumed dead during World War Two."
Toni thinks she stops breathing for a good solid minute as she turned back to Darling, then the image JARIVS brought up on one of her screens. She leant back on the table in disbelief.
She sees it—his jaw, brows and mouth. But his eyes were wrong.
Bucky Barnes had those naughty, naughty bedroom eyes, however, Darling's eyes were a stormy blue that made her feel like an objective. Like he was a gun that's waiting to be fired. Something that's taken apart and put back together the way it was needed.
Toni doesn't like it, not one bit. It leaves her stomach clenching uncomfortably.
"S—so." Her voice was strangled, her mind was completely blank—how? What? Who? Was this really happening?
Toni, when she went by Annie during her childhood, she loved to hear her Aunt Peggy tell her stories about Captain America and the Howling Commandos. She remembered how Peggy had spoken of Bucky and Steve's friendship, and Toni might hate Steve Rogers because of how her father said she'd never be able to live up to him, but there had always been something about Barnes.
She spent several years crushing on the supposedly dead guy—it was a hopeless teenage crush! Could anyone blame her? He was hot! Is hot!
Toni let out a shaky breath and turned back to Barnes, only to see him staring at the picture on scream with a look of concentration deeply creasing his brows.
"Okay." She finally spoke again and stormy blue-grey eyes were back on her. "I think getting you some sort of credentials would be the best place to start, cause I doubt you have any. Uh, J could you do that? Call him James…. Uh, Miller, no, Taylor."
Taylor was a standard one and not a name that stood out as Stark would. It was a good choice.
JARVIS gave a hum in response then an actual answer and Toni loped over to her workbench, where she started her plans to recreate the Arc-Reactor. She heard ruffling off clothes and knows that Barns had moved.
A quick glance over her shoulder revealed he's retreated to a corner, eyeing the room like something might suddenly jump out and attack. Her chest tightened in sympathy.
His eyes changed again, they weren't blank now. If anything Toni thought it might be a kind of panic, but not really panic. Wary? Unsettled?
She would be too if she was in his boots.
Toni wants to speak, ramble, but kept her trap shut, she'd give him a chance to settle again before bombarding him with anything else. He deserved it.
She instead she has JARVIS also goes through all the files her father had with SHIELD. Something itched at her brain that maybe she might find something in there.
JARVIS finds several grainy and blurry black and white photos—they're old, taken when her parents was still alive.
She knows its Darling. The familiar goggles and mouthguard, the metal arm with the star on it and long hair.
She wonders if Howard knew it was Bucky.
The photos were titled The Winter Solider. A ghost-story assassin that had been operating for more years then she'd been alive. There wasn't really any doubt that the guy in her workshop is anyone else but James Barnes now.
"Assassin work. Okay, can't say I was expecting that."
Barnes tilted his head, brows furrowing again in what Toni knew to be confusion this time.
The Asset (James is what the Handler—Toni—called him) follows her back out of the workshop upon JARVIS, the AI, notifying her of the delivery of pizza.
Pizza. The Asset knew what it was but could not recall having ever eaten the food. Handler seemed to enjoy the food from her excitement.
The Asset could not remember a time that he had eaten food himself—he could recall the sensation of being tub feed, however
He mentioned it when the Handler—Toni—asks when he last had food.
He does not understand the mortifying look on her face. He had always been fed that way.
He watches sympathy sketches it way onto her face, and lightly chips in with a not to eat too much as his stomach is likely not used to the motion of actually eating solid food.
He managed a full slice of the pizza—Meat Feast is what the Handler called it—before gingerly taking a second, the feeling of food in his stomach made him realise just how hungry he really was.
But he just threw it all up again.
(Handler seemed to have suspected it might happen, she'd gotten a bin beforehand.)
The Asset expected punishment of some sort for what he had done—he was showing a sign of weakness after all.
But all Handler did was hum a tune, hands holding his hair out of the way.
He didn't understand—Handler Toni was unlike any before her—he didn't understand her.
(Different, a remnant of the unconscious other whispered in curiosity. He ignored it. Emotions were bad and unnecessary. Emotions were a weakness.)
Once he'd stopped puking and gagging, Handler handed him a glass of water and told him to take small sips to not upset his stomach again.
He watched on silently as she takes the bin and leaves the room with a: "Be right back! Gonna clean this up!"
So the Asset sits on the marble floor awaiting his Handler's return when he hears a crash and a strangled noise.
He was on his feet and moving in record time. He stalked toward the sound because his Handler—his mission—could be in danger.
He finds her sitting on the bathroom floor, eyes wide and wheezing for breath in the middle of a panic attack. The loud and constant pattering of water from the shower grabs his attention but he instead lifts Handler from her armpits and pulls her from the door, closing the door behind him to mute the sound of the shower.
He knelt before her, hands lingering on her shoulders as she regains herself.
Her exhaustion takes hold, however, and she drops off into sleep.
The Asset didn't move, unsure of what to do.
"I will guide you to her room." The AI's voice filled the room and the Asset nodded—Handler trusted the AI, which meant the Asset could—and wouldn't—question it's, his, loyal to his Handler.
He stands watch over his sleeping Handler, wary of leaving her be after her panic attack—he'd inquire about it when she awoke.
