Even though his handler hadn't seemed upset by his recent escapades, the Asset can't help being slightly on edge as he waits for the other shoe to drop.
It doesn't though, his handler feeds him like usual, his blankets are still there when he goes to bed, and in the morning his handler doesn't even hesitate when he hands over his pain medication. He can't help marveling a little at that. With Hydra, disobedience on a level like he had shown yesterday would have been met harshly, with a stark loss of privileges as well as a few other more… corporal punishments. Here though, his handler hardly seems to even mind that he'd gone into his room. It's frankly baffling, and the Asset isn't really sure how to respond.
Later in the day though, after lunch, his handler motions for him to follow into the elevator and orders JARVIS to take them down to Stark's lab. He freezes up in dread at the words, but another part of him relaxes. Whatever punishment his handler has planned for him, they can now finally get it over with, and then everything will be fine.
Of course, he keeps forgetting that his handler refuses to be a normal handler, because there doesn't seem to be any sort of punishment waiting for him down in the lab. Instead, his handler seems to want to introduce him to Stark's robot…pets.
"I think they get lonely by themselves," is his handler's only explanation as he pets the claw arm of one of the robots. The Asset tries not to show his confusion as he carefully reaches over to pet the extended claw of the other robot, this one marked with a bolded 'U'. "Tony made them when he was a kid, I think," his handler continues, a look of light amusement on his face as his robot, the one marked DUM-E, rolls amiably away, only to return a moment later with a wrench clutched in its claw.
His handler accepts the wrench easily, setting it down on the table next to him while DUM-E rushes off to search for something else in a sort of reverse game of fetch. The Asset eyes the robot beside him and can't help feeling like it's… looking at the wrench on the table. It doesn't have eyes, but still…
He swallows and reaches slowly for the wrench, his eyes on his handler in case this turns out to be unacceptable. For his part, his handler keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the other robot, and the Asset snags the wrench without issue. He stares at it in his hand for a second, a little stunned by his own actions, before hesitantly offering it to U. The robot in question lets out a squeal-like beep and grabs the wrench, bursting off with a whirl of wheels to replace the wrench back where it had come from.
The strange fetch-like game continues like that, DUM-E offering various items to Handler-Rogers, who then accepts them and sets them aside for the Asset to offer to U to put away. The robots seem amused and the Asset finds himself relaxing as it progresses and it becomes apparent that no punishment is lurking in the labs today.
"Captain Rogers," JARVIS cuts in suddenly and the Asset cannot hide his jerk of surprise. Thankfully, his handler also flinches, his hands clenching into fists for a second before relaxing again, so the reaction probably isn't abnormal.
"Yes JARVIS?" His handler replies, holding up his hand at a questioning beep from DUM-E.
"The Avengers are returning," JARVIS informs him. "They will arrive at the tower in approximately fifteen minutes."
A smile breaks out over his handler's face and his shoulders relax. The Asset finds himself relaxing as well at his handler's relief, only now becoming aware of how tense his handler had been since his teammates had left.
Handler-Rogers gives DUM-E one final pat before standing up and turning towards the Asset. "We should go up to meet them," he says, and the Asset nods, offering his own hesitant pat to U before standing up to follow his handler to the elevator.
The Avengers arrive with a flurry of energy that the Asset hadn't realised he'd been missing until now. Everyone seems tired, but unharmed, and Stark rushes down to his lab to lock up some sort of mythical scepter while the rest of them work on unloading the quinjet.
He participates, bringing in various crates of supplies to be put away. The work isn't hard or particularly backbreaking, but he braces himself every time he goes to lift something, since the crates are heavy and would usually strain his arm. Every time though, he's surprised when no pain follows. He sets the crate down next to the pile that Barton is sorting through and unconsciously rotates his shoulder, still not used to Banner's meds.
The Avengers have a celebratory dinner once everything is settled, and they all meet up in the common room to mingle and eat food. The concept is a little foreign to the Asset, since, if Hydra had ever celebrated after missions, he definitely was not invited, so he isn't quite sure how to act. Thankfully, his handler makes him his food like usual (he tenses up getting food from the freezer as usual too), and the other Avengers don't seem to mind if he just stands there.
Or, at least he's pretty sure they don't mind. They keep… approaching him. Not exactly overtly, but steadily, throughout the night, every one of them – except for Stark – ending up beside him for some reason or another.
Wilson is the first one, he comes with a can of something in his hand and asks if he's ever had 'soda' before. The Asset shakes his head a little mystified and Wilson offers the can.
"It's Coke," he says, as if that means something. "I thought that'd be a safe pick." The Asset stares at him for a second, before glancing over at his handler. Handler-Rogers is busy arguing with Barton over some sort of video game and when he looks back, Wilson is still standing there holding out the can, a mild expression of patience on his face. The Asset eyes him for a second longer before reaching out carefully and accepting the can.
"Pull the tab up like this." Wilson mimes a pulling motion with his hands and the Asset narrows his eyes as he analyses the drink in his hand. He slowly reaches over and pulls up the tab Wilson had mentioned, almost jerking in surprise when the can opens with a pop and a hiss of gas.
Thankfully, he had been holding the can with his right hand, and he therefore does not crush it in his grip and he's able to now smell the sugary tang of pop coming from it. Wilson gives him a smile and the Asset quietly brings the drink to his lips, blinking a little at the carbonation.
It's sweet, and fizzy, and he swallows his mouthful a few times, trying to get used to the bubbly feeling. After a moment, he takes another sip and decides that he likes it. It tastes nothing like the smoothies his handler makes, but it's still slightly familiar for some reason.
—"We can get one if we share," Steve says, his head bowed as he counts his coins, he feet dangling off the bar stool—
Wilson steps away and the Asset swallows more of the drink as he tries to analyse his most recent malfunction— memory. Malfunction-memory. He huffs out a small gust of air through his nose. He still isn't quite sure what to think of his… incidents. With Hydra they would most definitely be malfunctions, but he thinks they're real. Memories from the past that have been wiped away.
He doesn't know yet if these… malfunctions/memories are bad here, but… they're showing him his handler so they can't be that bad. (He's still a little confused on why he and his handler often seem… younger in the malfunctions/memories though. He hadn't realised he'd gone on so many missions with his handler.)
He wonders why they had stopped. Why Hydra had had to reintroduce them.
He gets distracted from his wondering when Doctor Banner comes up to ask him how his meds are doing, and Banner is soon followed by Barton who, for some reason, feels the need to show him a picture of a squirrel he'd seen during the mission.
"There was a forest around the Sokovian base," he says as he holds up his phone and lets the Asset look it over, the animal indeed seeming to be perched on a branch. "Do you have a favorite animal?" The Asset looks up from the picture and blinks slowly at him. He doesn't think he's ever been asked that question before. "I like dogs," Barton continues undeterred, pocketing his phone. "Cap probably like something patriotic like bald-eagles or bison or something—"
"Cats," he cuts in without thinking, suddenly absolutely certain that his handler had wanted a cat at some point.
Barton stares at him and the Asset tries not to tense and accidently dent the metal can in his hand. "You or Steve?" He asks calmly after a moment. The Asset swallows and nods his head jerkily towards his handler, shrinking back slightly as he does so. In front of him, Barton's whole face lights up and he flashes him a smile. "Perfect," he says, rubbing his hands together. "His birthday is going to be so much easier this year."
The Asset doesn't have a response for that (except he can't help wondering at the word birthday. He can understand the general concept of course, but the term seems…important.) Barton doesn't explain further though, eventually shifting away and heading for the communal pizza boxes in the kitchen, leaving him alone to think over what he'd heard.
Romanoff waits a good 10 minutes before replacing Barton, her route casual and calculated as she drifts towards him, slow enough that he can almost believe it's a coincidence when she ends up next to him, her face calm as she sips her drink and watches Wilson and Stark share mission stories with Handler-Rogers on the couch.
She doesn't say anything, just stands there for a while, before eventually stepping purposefully over to haggle away the last slice of pizza from Barton, and the Asset watches her go, feeling strangely drained even though he'd hardly said more than a single word all night.
oOo
With the Avengers back, the Asset had been hoping that things would go back to a relative normal (and that maybe he would start his training again, he doesn't want to get sloppy), but maybe that had been too much to ask for. It's only a day or so since the Avengers' return when his handler suddenly orders him to follow him to the medical suite in the tower.
The Asset tenses instinctively at the unusual order. He hasn't gone to the med bay since he'd first arrived in the tower and he has no idea what to expect now. (And a part of him still can't help wondering if he will finally be punished for invading his handler's room, no matter how unperturbed his handler seems to be about the incident.) He also has no idea why he's going, since Banner's meds are working and he feels relatively fine.
Thankfully, his handler explains everything on their way down. "We're going to meet a doctor named Manandeep Ahuja," he says as JARVIS starts the elevator. "He will help us so that you can start eating solid food again."
The Asset nods slowly, turning over the idea in his mind. He'd forgotten that his handler had wanted to feed him solid food, but it makes sense once he thinks about it. It will probably be easier for the Avengers while on missions, and he will probably be a more effective asset, if he can be fed the same things as the rest of the team. The idea of going to go see a doctor for it still makes him nervous, but he doubts there's much he can do about that.
The elevator stops and the doors open, and the Asset can't help thinking over his handler's exact wording as he follows him out. 'He will help us so that you can start eating solid food again.' His handler is acting as though the Asset had, at one point, eaten solid food before, even though he can never remember doing so with Hydra, and he can't remember for sure if his memories/malfunctions had ever—
Wait, hadn't he remembered a sandwich at one point? His handler had been eating sandwiches and he'd thought of a— a bacon and peanut butter one, yes. Had he actually eaten something like that before? He doesn't actually remember eating it, per se, so it's possible he could have just watched one of his handler's eat it…
He's so preoccupied with the thought that he almost doesn't notice as his handler leads him into the med bay, a man with dark skin, a turban, and a white coat, waiting for them by one of the beds. The white coat immediately brings to mind the countless technicians that had dealt with him over the years, and he can't help tensing a little at the sight, even if the man seems non-threatening enough.
His handler, of course, isn't bothered by the doctor, and he approaches him immediately, both men calm and relaxed as they greet each other. The Asset lingers a little further back, his right hand rubbing at the fabric of his t-shirt as he swallows nervously and eyes the doctor, wondering what kinds of tests he will want to run.
(He can hold still for tests, he's good at that.)
Both the man and his handler turn to him, and Handler-Rogers motions him towards the bed, his shoulders relaxed despite the situation. The Asset complies reluctantly and soon finds himself sitting on the bed, facing the new doctor. His handler stands next to him, which is oddly comforting, and Doctor Ahuja offers him a warm smile behind his beard. The Asset swallows again, his right hand sweaty against his left.
"I hear you haven't eaten solid food in quite a while," Dr Ahuja starts off, sitting down on the rolling stool next to him, a clipboard at his elbow on the bedside table. "What kinds of foods have you been eating?"
The Asset freezes in uncertainty at the direct question, and thankfully, his handler takes over, describing the various smoothies that he had been preparing. The Asset relaxes at that, glad that his handler is still willing to fulfill his handling duties, even if he's different from the rest of his handlers.
"Do you ever have any trouble with your food?" Dr Ahuja asks him afterwards. "Trouble chewing or swallowing, or any upset stomachs?" His handler looks over at him too, suddenly anxious, and the Asset shakes his head, his handler's food has always been fine.
Handler-Rogers relaxes at that, and Dr Ahuja smiles, reaching over to grab his clipboard. The Asset follows his movements warily and remains tense as the doctor flips through his various notes. "Well." He sets the pad down on his lap and gives him a small smile. "From the blood work Dr Banner did, it looks like you're doing okay in that area."
His handler relaxes even further at that and the Asset allows himself to breathe a little lighter. Doing okay is good, as long as he's not letting down his handler somehow, he is okay.
Handler-Rogers moves on to asking about the ins and outs of reintroducing solids into his diet and Dr. Ahuja doesn't seem to think that it will be too much of a difficulty. "It's really quite similar to how one would introduce solids to a baby," he explains. "Start small, so the stomach can adjust, mincing solids or adding them into things you're already eating should help."
His handler looks reassured at the doctor's words, and he thanks him gratefully before motioning for the Asset to follow him out of the room. He gets up immediately, relieved and a little confused at how easy the doctor's visit had gone. Doctor Ahuja hadn't felt the need to test anything on him, and the appointment had been strangely non-painful, which he hadn't been expecting.
For supper that day, his handler makes their usual smoothie before sliding over a small plate with about six oval seed-like things on them. "These are almonds," his handler says, his fingers dancing along the table edge as he speaks. "They're supposed to be good for you, just— I guess, make sure you chew them properly."
The Asset nods slowly and reaches for one of the almonds with his right hand, fingering the rough texture for a moment before slipping it into his mouth. In front of him, his handler's eyes are focused intently on his own smoothie, a slight tension in his lips keeping him from looking fully relaxed.
The Asset turns the almond over in his mouth for a second, before finally biting down. It feels a little weird biting down on something hard besides the occasional ice chip in his handler's smoothies, but it isn't unpleasant either. Inside his mouth, the almond splits in two, and he bites down again until there's hardly anything left to chew. He swallows and reaches for another, feeling more than seeing his handler relax and finally take a sip of his own food.
Almonds taste good, he decides as he slowly eats the few he'd been given. Back with Hydra he would have never been allowed anything like this, but here… Something almost like excitement swells up in his chest and he can't help wondering what other kinds of things his handler will let him try.
His handler starts offering him small portions of solid food with every meal, (the Asset finds that thawed strawberries are amazing, and he has to stop himself from sneaking more when his handler's back is turned.) He makes them something called oatmeal a few days in, and promises to add more flavours once the Asset is used to eating solid food.
For his part, the Asset savours every bit of the oatmeal, the flavour inexplicably familiar and comforting. The food is a comfortable weight in his stomach, and he's just about finished his bowl when it seems to trigger a new memory/malfunction.
—"Your Ma left some for you on the stove," he says, holding the bowl out for Steve, his other hand clutching his schoolbag as Steve pushes himself up higher in bed, his hair mussed and slightly sticky from sweat. "You gotta eat it all, kay Steve?"
Steve rolls his eyes and coughs weakly into his elbow. "I'm sick, not dying Buck," he rasps as he reaches out for the bowl.—
"—just wait here while I go down and talk to the Avengers." His handler is speaking to him and the Asset blinks himself back into awareness, nodding as he fights down the familiar swell of panic at almost missing something his handler had said.
His handler's lips press up into a distracted smile as he begins gathering up the breakfast dishes and the Asset is left to wonder a little anxiously at what kind of meeting he's having.
He finds out a little while later, when his handler comes back, a slight tension in his shoulders and an uncertain look in his eyes. The Asset finds his own shoulders tensing in response and he eyes his handler a little warily as he motions for them both to take a seat on the couch.
His handler opens and closes his mouth a few times, seemingly unsure as to how to approach what he has to say, and the Asset tries not to assume that he is the one at fault. So far, he has yet to displease his handler, and he can't think of anything he's done today that could have been bad—
"I…" His handler swallows and squares his shoulders. "I know we've been spending a lot of time together," he says, and the Asset's brow furls, not quite sure where his handler is going with this. "I don't mind that," Handler-Rogers continues, quick to reassure. "But I would like— I think it would be good for you to spend time with the other Avengers as well."
The Asset flicks his eyes over his handler and gives him a slow nod. His handler's shoulders relax slightly, and he rubs his hand on his leg. "The other Avengers have agreed to show you some things," he says. "So you'll soon be doing things you probably haven't done before." He settles back into the couch a little and waves his hand. "I'll be there at the start," he reassures before his eyes go soft. "And… this is supposed to help both of us," he says. "You don't have to worry about the Avengers punishing you or reporting on you back to me."
The Asset nods again, swallowing as he thinks over what his handler had said. He still doesn't quite know what to expect from this new development, but hopefully it will be rather painless. This is supposed to help both of us, his handler had said, and he wonders a bit at that. What… what could his handler need help with?
oOo
His newly prescribed activities with the Avengers team isn't as hard as he had first thought it might be. They do things he has absolutely no protocols for – like going for walks or going to a building full of books called a library – and he's a little paranoid about accidentally crossing lines that he isn't even aware of, since none of his Hydra training helps him much when Banner is showing him the cookbook section or when Romanoff points out random birds in the park. But, his handler sticks around for the first few outings, and the Asset comes to a pretty essential realisation once Barton mentions something about archery.
This all has to do with his mission.
The epiphany helps him relax a little, once he remembers that his mission is to 'Live in Avengers Tower'. This whole thing— the Avengers showing him various leisurely activities and skills— it's all training for his mission. It's weird training to be sure, but this is a weird mission, and he's honestly just glad that the Avengers are willing to train him at all.
The outings are a little easier after that, and eventually, his handler stops coming on all of them. He still feels a bit on edge without his handler, but he tries to hide it the best he can because he doubts he will be much use to the Avengers if he can't handle being away from his handler for more than an hour or two.
He keeps that thought firmly in mind during his most recent outing with Romanoff. They're on a walk again and her hands sitting loosely in the pockets of her jacket, the picture of relaxed calm as they stroll down the street. He has a jacket too, because the day is a little cool, probably one of the last ones before summer really starts to hit.
(He's not exactly sure how he knows that because he's pretty sure Romanoff hadn't mentioned anything.)
Out of all the Avengers, he finds Romanoff the hardest to read, and the fact sets him slightly on edge around her. Romanoff doesn't talk much, and she seems to have expert control over all her facial expressions, making it hard to tell if he's complying properly with his mission.
Sometimes though, he'll catch her looking at him out of the corner of his eye, something deep, and pained, almost empathetic, in her eyes. It's gone within the next moment, but it does make him wonder a little.
Today Romanoff looks as calm as ever, although her eyes do seem to be searching for something as they walk past the various stores. The Asset scans the area himself as he carefully keeps pace with her, mentally focusing on making sure he doesn't walk too fast or to slow, while also trying not to run into any other pedestrians or Romanoff herself. It's a little exhausting to be focused so hard and he tries not to panic when Romanoff finally stops, a part of him certain that he'd somehow managed to fail at the simple task.
"Let's go in here," is all Romanoff says, stepping forward to pull open the door to a little shop in front of them.
The Asset follows inside, instinctively scanning the room around him for any threats. The shop is small, mostly filled with shelves and intricate displays of little knick-knacks and books. The place smells of old paper and is mostly empty of any patrons, which helps him relax a bit as he follows Romanoff around.
Romanoff seems to have a goal in mind as she marches them towards the back of the store, weaving around bookshelves and end-tables before arriving at a small wooden table. In front of her sit a few dozen books, their covers on display to show a wide variety of colour and design. They're too colourful and abstract to be regular novels, but other than that he's not sure what to think of them.
"What's your favourite colour?" Romanoff asks abruptly, her hand hovering over the book display.
The Asset blinks at her before moving on to try and figure out an answer to her question. Until recently he hadn't even realised that he had a preference for colour, so the question is a little startling. Colour had never mattered with Hydra, unless it had something to do with a target, and it feels a little strange to… to like something, just because.
That being said, there are two colours that he's beginning to feel particularly inclined to. Red because it had been Important during that movie, and blue because it seemed important just in general. His handler wears blue, and it seemed that he had worn it as well, in his malfunction/memories.
"Blue," he decides finally, hoping he hasn't taken too long to answer.
Romanoff only nods, her fingers skimming over the books before she pulls out one with a dark blue cover and a black spine and corners. "Wait here," she says, and the Asset falls into parade rest as she darts away to the front of the store.
She comes back only a few minutes later, a small plastic bag looped over her wrist. She stops in front of him and the bag crinkles as she reaches her hand inside, pulling out the same book she had just left with. Her eyes flick up to his for a moment, a searching expression on her face before she breathes in and looks back down at the book.
"This is a journal," she says quietly, opening it so that he can see the blank lined pages inside. "People use them to write down what they are thinking or what happens to them." She presses her lips together for a moment before catching his gaze.
"I… don't know what sort of intel Hydra gave you on me," she says a little stiffly. "You might even know more about me then I do but…" Her fingers clench just slightly on the journal. "There was a time when I was in your shoes." Her eyes glint at him determinedly. "I joined SHIELD and I had a lot of things to unlearn." Her eyes grow distant and shift to look a little ways past his shoulder. "It took me a while to learn how to trust my handlers," she says softly, her thumb running over the edge of the book. "Even longer to learn that a handler could also be a friend and that friends weren't weaknesses."
She blinks and seems to settle back into herself. "Writing in a journal helped," she says simply, holding out the book to him. "You can write whatever you want, whenever you want. I found it helped… organise my thoughts a little."
The Asset reaches out hesitantly to accept the journal, his mind still trying to process the fact that Romanoff is giving him something. The cover is smooth under his fingers and he rubs his thumb over it a little dazedly. He swallows and looks back at Romanoff, thinking over the speech she had given him. "Is… is Handler-Rogers… your handler?" He manages to rasp out, the muscles in his lower back tensing as he speaks.
Romanoff seems to still at his question and a brief flash of sadness flickers through her eyes as she scans him. "No," she says quietly as she reaches into the plastic bag again and hands him a pen. "He's my friend."
oOo
He hides the journal in the back of his drawer. It probably isn't a very good hiding spot, especially since his handler can simply ask JARVIS and the computer will probably tell him about it, but the idea of having something that is his – something specifically for him besides a weapon or a uniform – feels so foreign it almost feels wrong, and it takes him a few days to even work up the courage to open the thing.
He waits until he is sure his handler is sleeping before getting up and quietly sliding the drawer open, the journal and pen looking at him accusingly. He sweeps them up and retreats to the window, the city lights and his enhanced senses allowing him to see well enough in the dark that he doesn't need to risk turning on any lights.
He sits for a while, the journal in his lap as he debates with himself on whether or not he should actually use the thing. Romanoff had given it to him as part of his training, and his handler had sanctioned his training, so that probably means that there is nothing wrong with… with using it.
He huffs out a quiet breath and flips it open to the first page, the blank lines staring at him as he fiddles with his pen, unsure where to even start.
I found it helped… organise my thoughts a little, Romanoff had said, and he frowns a little as he taps his pen on the page. It… probably would be easier to understand his malfunctions/memories if he wrote them down…
(And then, if he ever forgets again, he will at least have this.)
He clicks the pen open and decides to write down everything he thinks he's learned from his malfunctions/memories. It will be good to at least have them all in one place, even if he doesn't understand them.
I worked on missions with my handler before, he writes, feeling it to be one of the most important revelations.
My handler was sick and small, and then he got big because of a serum.
I knew someone named Ma Barnes.
I knew someone named Becca – she was pregnant, 1944.
I was on a team called the Howling Commandos. He stops for a moment, his brow furling as he tries to remember the names of those men. In the end, all he can remember is that one of them had a name that started wit 'G' and another with 'M'.
There were six other people on the team, he writes more confidently.
We knew someone named Peg. He pauses, his eyes narrowing for a moment as he remembers the pieces of his handler's journal that he'd read. His handler had mentioned someone named Peggy…
My handler knew someone named Peggy, he writes, circling the name and connecting it with the word Peg and writing a question mark. He knew someone named Howard.
He leans his head back against the wall as he thinks, trying to sort through the confusing bits and pieces that he had slowly been collecting. It's a little difficult since at times he'd been specifically trying not to pay attention to the malfunctions/memories, but he does his best.
I ate (?) a bacon and peanut butter sandwich.
I fell off something, he remembers. My handler was there. It hurt. It was cold.
I had short hair.
I had two arms.
He stills for a moment as he remembers and fully registers something else.
My handler called me Bucky before, he writes slowly. I called him Steve.
AN: Thank you to my doctor friend who gave me tips on Bucky's solid food eating!
As you can see, the Avengers are quietly adopting Bucky and he's slowly forming bonds with them. I felt that, like Clint, Natasha would probably also relate to Bucky and reach out to him a little.
