The Avengers allow the Asset to sit in on their meeting as they go through the information they had gathered at the Siberian base. A lot of it is out of date, but it gives them insight into Hydra's past activities and even more places to check up on. And, as he's sitting there, the Asset can't help wondering if his handler had found anything on his training with Hydra while in Siberia. He must have, but he doesn't mention it.
"Some of the governments most effected by Hydra have been doing their own investigations," Handler-Steve informs them as they go over what they've learned. "They haven't asked for our help specifically, and we can't always just go barging in." His mouth twists and he sighs. "There's evidence that Hydra is still out there – we've even heard reports that Rumlow might still be active…" His teeth clench. "But often we're left to simply hope and trust that governments are actually trying to root out the Hydra heads themselves."
"Who knows if they really are though," Stark cuts in, an unimpressed look on his face. "My guess is it'll be 'Operation Paperclip' all over again."
Handler-Steve huffs out a breath and shifts unhappily in his chair. "My thoughts exactly," he says, tapping some buttons on the console next to him to project a world map, red dots appearing to presumably show Hydra hotspots. "Hill and Pepper are doing their best, but the fact remains that there are simply some places that, if we go in, we might accidentally trigger a conflict between them and the States."
"We're not being sent by the US government though," Wilson protests. "It's not like we're acting on behalf of the States."
Handler-Steve shakes his head. "That doesn't help," he says. "As it is, we're on iffy ground with our trip to Siberia and Sokovia… but those were important enough that I felt we should do it anyways." He taps his finger on the table. "The fact remains that we don't have much authority outside of the US." He shrugs. "SHIELD might have helped with that… but I doubt they would have had much leverage after being so thoroughly infiltrated by Hydra." He sighs. "They would have had a hard time finding the moral high ground with some of these countries." His finger curls into a fist and his mouth twitches. "Plus, they were more or less a branch of the United States government, so we have the problem of foreign invasion again."
He reaches for the console and types in a few commands, a couple locations now showing up in green. "That being said, the World Security Council is still in place," he explains. "And Hill has been working with them and the UN. The UN is being slow on their side of things, but we do have several countries that have consented to allow us to participate in their Hydra investigations." He looks up and flashes them a wry smile. "Evidently they found the ability to get rid of Hydra without risking their own people a pretty good deal."
The Avengers spend the rest of the meeting going over and planning for their upcoming missions and the Asset sits back silently, knowing that he and Stark won't be going on any of them.
"I was thinking that me and Barnes will continue with the BARF stuff," Stark tells his handler after the meeting, angling himself so that he's speaking at both him and Handler-Steve. "I'd kind of like to do it when you guys are around, but we might end up doing a few sessions while you're away, depending on your schedule."
His handler nods and looks up to catch the Asset's eye. "Whatever works best for you," he says. "I don't think there's a particular rush for this, so–" He turns his head to catch Stark's gaze too. "–if there's ever any day you don't feel up to it, that's fine."
Stark and the Asset both nod their understanding and turn to make their way out of the room. Although, privately, the Asset isn't sure if he'd ever be able to say no to a session with Stark. Saying no to things is still… difficult for him to think about, and he knows that his handler wants the trigger words to be removed as soon as possible, no matter what he says. It's… nice to know that he has the option though.
oOo
He doesn't have another session with BARF until later, a day or two before the Avengers ship out again to fight Hydra, and part of him is glad that his handler is still in the tower when he goes for his session, even if his handler won't be in the room with him. It's comforting just knowing he's in the building, even if he doesn't think anything will actually go wrong with BARF.
"Alright." Stark rubs his hands together and hands the Asset the BARF glasses. "Everything ready to go, Beck?" He turns back to look at the setup of consoles and the man next to them, who nods his head silently, his gaze mainly focused on the screens in front of him. Stark turns to give the Asset a half-smile before heading back to sit next to Beck. "Ready when you are," he says.
The Asset nods and breathes in carefully as he reaches up to put on the glasses and steps back. In front of him, Stark reaches over to play the recording of the trigger words. "I picked one near the end this time," he says, before hitting a button.
"Доброкачественные," the speakers say. Benign. The Asset breathes in and closes his eyes, centering himself for a brief moment before raising his head again. He opens his eyes and in front of him his holo-self shimmers into view, standing impassively as he listens to Handler-Pierce read out his trigger words.
"Возвращение домой," he says, his accent slightly jarring. Homecoming.
The Asset closes his eyes again and tries to think only about what the word means, nothing about trigger words or the approaching end of the sequence or handlers or missions or orders. Just… homecoming.
The sound of a grunt makes him look up again and he opens his eyes to see a new scene, his holo-self stationed on top of a small apartment building, his gun strapped to his back as he looks over the side and scans the street below. For half-a-second the Asset is reminded of his mission to kill Nick Fury, but this one is different, it's set in the daytime instead of at night and his uniform is not the same as the one Hydra usually puts him in, this one lacking the mask and goggles.
His hair is shorter too, and his brow furls as he watches his holo-self track something out of view before moving to leap across the roofs of the apartment buildings around him. The BARF tech only shows the tops of the buildings as his holo-self moves along, but from the limited scenery that he can see, the Asset is fairly confident in his interpretation of the scene.
His holo-self makes one last leap, his arms outreached as he aims for the rooftop of the next building, his hair whipping around his face as he jumps. But his eyes widen as he misjudges the distance, and the Asset's own heart gives a jolt of surprise as his holo-self misses, his foot slipping and his metal arm flailing as his breath catches, gravity beginning to take hold. His holo-self makes one last grab at empty air – seeming to hang in place for a single moment – before he tumbles off the side of the building and crashes down into the narrow alley below.
The fall couldn't have been more than a few stories, but the hologram blacks out for a second as his holo-self hits the ground with a grunt of pain and a clang of metal. Across from him, both Beck and Stark are watching wide-eyed and the Asset reminds himself to breathe, sucking in a breath as the hologram flickers back on, blurring in and out of focus for a second as his holo-self wakes up.
His holo-self doesn't look to be seriously injured, besides the bloody bruise on his temple, but he sways slightly as he stands up, giving his head a shake as he leans his metal arm against the brick building that lines the alleyway. He seems to stare bemusedly at his hand for a moment before looking around and taking a shaky step to the side.
A crunch makes him look down, and he moves his foot blearily, revealing the crushed remains of the earpiece he had been wearing, the equipment having come off during his fall. His holo-self stares at it for a moment, seemingly confused, before lifting his head and staring around the alley, his hand still firmly planted on the wall beside him.
"Is this you?" Stark asks suddenly from across the room. "Are you creating this?"
The Asset shakes his head, watching as his holo-self stumbles forward a few steps and seems to stare transfixed at the brick wall beside him, his hand running along the grooves as his brow furls, his eyes clouded. "I don't remember this," he says, although the vision seems to be tugging at something in his brain as he watches. He wouldn't be surprised if he remembers everything about this by the end of the session.
His holo-self looks around the alley again, seemingly searching for something, before his other hand reaches up to feel the bruise on his temple and he stumbles forward a few more steps, his eyes scanning the space around him.
"Do you know what's happening?" Stark asks as they watch his holo-self begin to shakily make his way out of the alley and onto the empty street beyond it. He winces once the sun hits his eyes and the Asset narrows his own, his teeth tugging at his lip as he thinks, trying to catch onto the wisps in his brain.
"Something… I was looking for something," he says finally. "I think… hitting my head erased the mission, so when I woke up…" He trails off, his mind flashing back to his holo-self's interest in the brick wall of the alley. In front of him, his holo-self scans the street, his eyes definitely searching for something. "I… I think," the Asset starts slowly, as his holo-self begins to move a little faster, determination settling into his gaze. "I think I was looking for— I think I used to look for Ste– Handler-Steve in alleys, when he got into fights and I think—"
He swallows and stares as his holo-self continues to trail up and down different streets, ducking into different alleys and sweeping them with an almost bewildered look on his face. The streets don't exactly look like the ones he remembers from his flashbacks with small Steve, but they do have a resemblance and the alleys especially don't seem to have changed much…
"I don't think I knew what it was that I was looking for though," he says quietly, as his holo-self scans another alley. "I just knew it was something important."
After a few minutes of watching his holo-self's confused wanderings, the Asset gets the impression that the BARF tech is speeding through time, because the image blurs for a second and the next thing he knows, the sun is much lower in the sky and his holo-self is crouched, frozen in the shadows of an alleyway, his eyes wide as he accidentally comes across a pair of his handlers.
"He's got to be somewhere," they hear the edges of the conversation between the two as his holo-self quietly begins to vibrate, his breathing short and silent. "He didn't check-in and he didn't complete the mission, but he's not exactly inconspicuous, someone's got to have seen something."
"Oh right," the other man hisses, and back in the shadows, the holo-Asset flinches. "We'll just go around asking if anyone has happened to see a deadly assassin with a metal arm, that will go over well." He scowls. "Face it, we lost the Winter Soldier and the Russians are going to be pissed."
"We'll find him again," the first man says, his voice dark and promising. "He can't hide forever." He looks down and grumbles something deprecating, kicking a rock along the sidewalk ahead of him. "I thought he was supposed to be trained."
The Asset watches as his holo-self shudders and lurches to his feet, completely silent as he takes a jerky step towards the two men. Even with the step, he's still in the shadows and hidden from view, and the Asset watches his holo-self's face twist, his breath stuttering before he stumbles to a stop, his hand coming up to press against the brick wall beside him. He stares at it for a second, his eyes darting between it and the two agents as his shoulders heave up and down and he swallows nervously.
At long last, he casts one last look at the agents before taking a hesitant step backwards, his breath hitching quietly and his face paling before he takes another step back, and then another, his jaw tightening. His hand trails along the wall as he steps back before he turns, almost stumbling in his haste to get away.
Something tight wells up in the Asset's chest as he watches his holo-self flee, and he breathes out, relaxing muscles that he hadn't even known were tense.
"Are you doing this or is it still the memory?" Stark asks quietly, his eyes on the projection.
The Asset breathes in and shakes his head. "I haven't changed anything," he says, because he doesn't want to yet. The memory is still new to him and he doesn't exactly know what is going to happen, so he wouldn't know how to change it anyways. Plus, it had come up when he'd been thinking over the trigger word, so it must be important, and he wants to know what it is first, before he tries to change anything.
He swallows, watching as his holo-self stumbles to a halt several streets later and throws up, his hands shaking. "I think…" he says slowly, as his holo-self breathes through the fear of disserting his handlers. "I think I knew that if I went back to my handlers, I wouldn't be able to find the thing I was looking for." He swallows and clenches his teeth. "It was important."
Stark nods solemnly, something deep and understanding in his face, as, beside him, Beck watches the scene with narrowed eyes.
The Asset stares at the man for a moment before darting his eyes back to the middle of the room, the scene shimmering and changing into the dilapidated remains of an abandoned apartment. The walls are old and warped, graffiti littering any plaster that hasn't fallen off, and there is little else inside besides a rolled up sleeping bag, a worn backpack, and windblown trash. Time has obviously passed since the last hologram. His holo-self looks more ragged than last time, his hair hanging limp and greasy by his face, and he has dark bags under his eyes as he sits crouched over an open can of soup in his lap, a set of civilian clothes replacing his old ones and covering his arm.
A creak from outside the room sets his holo-self on edge, and the can is replaced with a knife in the blink of an eye. He crouches forward on the balls of his feet, looking ready to pounce as he stares towards the door, his shoulders hunched and tense.
The door squeaks as it's pushed open, and his holo-self manages to tense even further as a man with blond hair eases his way into the room. The newcomer doesn't even have time to say anything before his holo-self is up and across the room, slamming the man against the doorjamb and pressing the knife steadily against his throat.
"No words," his holo-self growls at the man—whom the Asset suddenly recognises to be a younger looking Pierce. "If you try to say the words, I will kill you."
Pierce stills completely before calmly raising his hands in submission, the folds of his suit jacket wrinkling under the holo-Asset's grip. "I'm not here to trigger you," he says soothingly, and his holo-self narrows his eyes. "I'm just here to talk, that's it."
His holo-self darts his eyes over Pierce before letting out a huff of frustrated air and backing off, retreating back to his corner by the backpack, his movements tense and agitated as he paces a few feet back and forth. "I don't want the words," he growls again, throwing a glare at Pierce, his free hand moving up to tug on his hair for a second before dropping back down.
Pierce stays over by the door, his hands now resting easily by his side as he follows the holo-Asset's movements. He offers him a small smile. "I know," he says, before shaking his head almost pityingly. He flicks his eyes up and seems to scan the holo-Asset before giving a casual shrug. "But… you know… those words are supposed to help you, right?"
His holo-self shudders and shakes his head, his hand clenching on his knife as he paces away. "N-no. No," he snaps, shooting another glare at Pierce and sucking in a ragged breath. "No, you made me forget. I don't want to forget."
Pierce offers him a sympathetic smile and the Asset swallows back a wave of dislike at the sight. "I know you're confused right now," Pierce hedges, leaning forward slightly. "But the maintenance we do is only meant to help you." He looks up at the holo-Asset, his face a picture of sincerity. "Do you remember the serum you were given? To help you be a better soldier and protect people?"
His holo-self pauses in his pacing and nods uneasily, his eyes wide as he breathes in, short and unevenly. "Hurt," he says thinly, his shoulders hunching. "The serum hurt."
Pierce nods sagely. "There was a mistake with your serum," he says gravely, and the holo-Asset watches him with wide eyes. "It makes you confused, gives you delusions." He waves his hand. "Without your regular maintenance you become violent and attack the people you're supposed to be protecting."
His holo-self swallows shakily and edges further back into the room, before resuming his pacing, his right hand shaking almost imperceptibly. The Asset finds himself gently shaking as well, and he breathes in, trying to calm himself.
"Without maintenance you hurt people," Pierce says, something hard glinting in his eyes. "You forget what you're supposed to be doing and hurt the agents trying to help you." He settles back and places one of his hands in his pockets, seeming to soften. "If you come back with me, we can help you," he says gently. "We can make things less confusing."
The holo-Asset sucks in an unsteady breath and shakes his head, his hand clenching on the knife as he turns in his pacing and pauses next to the wall. "No, no. I remember stuff now," he says, his eyes darting around uneasily. "I don't want to forget— I remember— there— there was a woman with brown hair and— and a flying car—"
Pierce scoffs, and his holo-self shrinks back slightly. "A flying car?" Pierce says skeptically, raising his eyebrows. "Do you even hear yourself?" He spreads his arms and looks around. "Do you see any flying cars around?" He shakes his head, disappointed, and drops his arms. "You are delusional. Your memories get mixed up. We can help you with that."
His holo-self swallows and begins to chew on his lip, his eyes darting between Pierce, the doorway and the rest of the room. "I…" He paces a few steps to the side before retreating back, seeming to take comfort in the wall beside him. "I can't go back yet," he says, his hand flexing on his knife restlessly as he breathes in unsteadily. "I hafta find Steve first."
Pierce seems to blink in surprise and the Asset copies him, not having been expecting his holo-self to be able to remember his old handler, he wonders quietly how long it had been since his holo-self had fled Hydra while Pierce carefully stores his surprised away, smoothing it over with an easy smile. "Of course you want to find him," he says, leaning back casually against the doorframe behind him. "We can help you with that too."
His holo-self's breath catches, and he seems to give a start, almost taking a step towards Pierce before edging back again. "You… you know where Steve is?" He asks, a cautious sort of hope in his eyes.
Pierce nods before letting out a sigh and shaking his head, his hands going to his pockets. "Don't you remember?" He says almost sadly, eyeing the holo-Asset. "You injured him in this escape attempt."
His holo-self draws back, stung, his eyes widening as he shakes his head jerkily. "No! No, I—"
"It's not your fault," Pierce presses, a look of deep understanding on his face as he takes a step forward. "You needed maintenance and you didn't understand that he was trying to help you. You were confused."
His holo-self sucks in a frantic breath and darts his eyes around the room, his shoulders hunching as he seemingly tries to pull himself away from Pierce's words. "No, no, I—I thought— I thought I was s'posed to be fighting Hydra," he says, distress and confusion lacing his words. "I was fighting Hydra."
Pierce shakes his head and offers him another sympathetic smile. "You're just confused," he says with a shrug. "It happens when you go without maintenance for too long, remember? You start to malfunction."
Across from Pierce, the holo-Asset shivers and turns away, beginning to pace anew, his fingers clenching on his knife as he turns. He pauses and faces Pierce, his free hand tugging agitatedly on his pantleg. "Is— is Steve okay?" He asks anxiously, his eyes not quite meeting Pierce's as they dart around.
Pierce gives him a gentle smile, his posture a picture of ease. "He's still alive," he says, not at all reassuring. "The doctors are just keeping a watch over his concussion." At his words, the holo-Asset pulls himself back further, his shoulders finally meeting the wall behind him.
"Steve's— Stevie's in the hospital 'gain?" He breathes, his frame shuddering, his gaze unfocused. Across from him, the Asset watches as Pierce's smile widens for half-a-second into something predatory.
"He's okay," he says, taking a half-step forward, his hands still in his pockets. "But…" He gives the holo-Asset a solemn look. "He doesn't want to see you again, until you've been properly maintained."
On the other side of the hologram, Stark curses, and mutters something dark under his breath as they watch his holo-self sit frozen, his eyes wide as he takes in Pierce's words. "I—" His chest heaves. "I didn't mean to hurt Steve."
Pierce smiles all teeth at him and shrugs his shoulders. "He knows," he says with a casual shrug. "You're not going to be punished for this when you come back to base." He shakes his head. "But you need to be maintained, or you are dangerous."
His holo-self swallows dryly and flicks his eyes around the room uncertainly. "I—" He flinches slightly and takes a step along the back wall. "I don't want to forget Steve," he says, his voice tight as his hand flexes on the knife. "I don't want—" He cringes.
Pierce's eyes flick to the knife for a second before he gives the holo-Asset a reassuring smile. "You won't," he says. "You don't forget your handlers, do you?"
The holo-Asset's breath stalls for a second and his eyes widen as he scans Pierce, his knife hand shaking slightly. "He— I— I can see Steve after?" He asks, a little desperately, his stance shifting restlessly.
Pierce nods and pulls his one hand out of his pocket to check his watch. "Yes, of course you can see him after," he says. "Once you're maintained, you'll be perfectly safe."
The holo-Asset flicks his gaze between Pierce's watch and his face a few times before he shrinks back as far as the wall behind him will allow. "Hurts," he says, his voice small, almost inaudible. "Maintenance hurts."
Pierce smiles brightly at him, seemingly unbothered as he puts his hand back in his pocket, rocking on the balls of his feet. "I know," he says simply. "But… you need to be maintained before you can be trusted on missions again." He gives the holo-Asset a look. "This is to help you, so that you can keep helping us."
The holo-Asset breathes in a few ragged breaths, darting his eyes over Pierce and the room and the knife in his hand before his shoulders seem to slump, his gaze still on the knife. "I… didn't mean to hurt Steve," he whispers, his eyes flicking up to Pierce.
"It's alright," Pierce says, staring him down. "We just want to make sure it doesn't happen again."
The holo-Asset nods jerkily a few times, his breath stuttering as he slowly loosens his grip on the knife, and it falls to the floor with a dull clatter. He tenses as it falls, turning his gaze to eye Pierce warily, his entire frame coiling up tight like a spring.
Pierce gives him a pleased smile and takes a step back. "Well done," he says, nodding his head towards the door. "Let's go then."
His holo-self takes a jerky step towards Pierce and the image fades for a second, making the Asset think that the holographic memory might be over. But a second later, the image refocuses, showing the holo-Asset standing at attention by his recalibration chair, the yellow lights of the Vault reflecting dimly off his metal arm.
Time has passed since the last scene, his hair is wet but clean, and he's back in his regular uniform, the blank look on his face making it evident that wiping protocols have been put in place. His eyes don't even move when Pierce steps into the room, waving down the guards as Handler-Brubaker, a heavy-set man with a thinning beard, comes in after him.
Handler-Brubaker frowns and steps towards the holo-Asset, taking his chin in his hand and tilting his face from side to side, looking at his eyes. "You said he went rogue?" He asks, his accent colouring his voice as he turns his head to look back at Pierce.
Pierce nods, a sour expression on his face. "He didn't even complete the mission first," he snaps, scowling. "I thought you said he was fully operational."
Handler-Brubaker's mouth thins and he looks back towards the holo-Asset. "The mission was in New York, yes?" He says, tilting the holo-Asset's chin again. His holo-self doesn't resist, his gaze empty as he moves. "The trigger words should have been enough to keep him under control." Handler-Brubaker narrows his eyes at him for a second before drawing his arm back and letting it fly in a sudden open-handed slap.
The Asset winces as his holo-self's head snaps roughly to the side and he stumbles back, his breath catching in a muffled noise before he pulls himself upright again and stands at attention, his gaze continually (and deliberately, he thinks) blank. In front of him, Handler-Brubaker shakes out his hand and seems to scan the holo-Asset.
"He seems stable enough now," he says, turning back to Pierce, and the man scoffs, folding his arms.
"Oh sure, now he is," he says bitterly. "But trigger words aren't helpful when he kills anyone who tries to say them before they get a chance to finish. I lost a dozen men trying to bring him in you know, and he didn't even kill the target."
Handler-Brubaker hums and turns back to sweep his gaze over the holo-Asset, the red mark from his hand beginning to deepen on his cheek. "Perhaps a shutdown protocol is necessary," he says finally. "A one-word trigger, should he attempt something like this again."
The image fades out finally and the Asset breathes in carefully, reaching up to take off his glasses. His hands shake slightly as he does so, and he finds that he's backed himself up to press against the wall behind him.
"Wow." He looks up to see Stark leaning back in his chair, looking about as drained as he feels. After a second, he glances up at him and runs a hand through his hair. "Guess that's why they came up with Spu— with the 'S' word then." The Asset nods slowly, his mind still spinning with everything he'd seen. "Must have been late 50s then," Stark mutters to himself. "Maybe early 60s."
The Asset isn't exactly sure what he means by that, but he finds himself distracted by something even more important as he thinks over the session. He darts his head up to look at Stark and he swallows, his heart beginning to pound a little faster as he takes a step forward. "He was lying," he says intently, his gaze pinned on Stark as something sharp wells up in his chest. "Wasn't he? Handler-Steve— he wasn't there."
Pierce had said that he would let him see Handler-Steve again but Handler-Steve hadn't been there because— because he had been fighting against Hydra, and his holo-self had thought that he had fought against Hydra too, but Pierce had said that he had hurt his handler but his handler hadn't even been there—
Stark blinks at him, his eye flicking over him as he thinks. "Yeah," he says simply, sitting back slightly. "He was probably lying about all of that. Steve wasn't with Hydra until last year."
The Asset swallows and he lets out a breath, his brow furling as he tries to understand what he's being told. He'd thought that his handler had been his handler before… back when he was small and then big but— but maybe he had been, just not under Hydra. That would make sense since his handler doesn't like Hydra, so of course he hadn't been working for Hydra before. Of course, that would mean that at some point he had been transferred from his handler to Hydra for some reason, which is confusing— not that it would be the first time he had been transferred around— but he had been fighting Hydra so why—?
"Well. I think that's all for today," Stark says suddenly, standing up and waving a hand at Beck. "If you want to pack up, I'm going to go drink some decaf and pretend it's not."
A scowl flickers briefly over Beck's face as Stark leaves, but the Asset finds he's too preoccupied by his recent session to pay it much mind. Instead he hands off the glasses to Beck and leaves the room, feeling slightly dazed as he makes his way to the elevator and heads to his handler's room.
When he arrives, he finds his handler already there, putting food away in the kitchen, and the Asset can't muster up more than an exhausted nod as he makes his way to the couch. He can feel his handler's gaze follow him into the living room, but he feels too drained to care, instead lowering himself slowly down unto the couch and staring blankly at the TV. Today's session feels almost too big to process, and he's not sure how to handle it all.
Behind him, he can hear his handler moving around in the kitchen, but it isn't until a steaming mug of something is held out to him, that he focuses enough to pay attention. He reaches for it, the warmth helping to ground him a little as he breathes in the steam.
"It's tea," his handler says, sitting down next to him, his own mug in hand. "The new kind that Bruce got us."
The Asset remains silent and takes a sip even though it's still too hot to drink, and he allows his mind to focus on the solid presence of his handler. His handler who gives him tea, and doesn't lie to him, and doesn't strike him just to test his conditioning and who had been his handler first but then had gone away for some reason—
Next to him, his handler shifts slightly, his gaze never changing as he gradually move so that his shoulder is pressed up against the Asset's, his eyes remaining fixed ahead of himself as he sips his tea, acting as though nothing has changed at all. The move is surprising but… something tight and anxious begins to unwind in the Asset's chest at the touch, and he finds himself relaxing, breathing out and taking another sip of his drink as he stares out past the TV to the windows beyond.
He will try to figure out the session another day. For now, he can just sit.
oOo
He writes down the session as well as he can remember it, but something about it almost frightens him, so he lets it be for now, deciding that he prefers to have his BARF sessions while his handler is still around, and electing not to have another one until his handler gets back from the latest Avengers raid. It isn't a very big one, and no one gets injured, so when they return, the Avengers have a short resting period before their next mission.
Barton and Romanoff take the chance to leave the tower and go off somewhere not mission related (nobody seems to know where, but they take the truck), and his handler attends another one of his mysterious doctor's appointments before Stark and the Asset finally organise another BARF session.
On the day of the session, the Asset steps into the room to find only Beck inside, the man fiddling with the computers, a sour look on his face. He looks up as the Asset enters and scowls slightly. "Stark is 'running late'," he says, using his fingers as mock quotes. "He told me to start getting set up and that we'll start when he gets here."
The Asset nods silently, not quite sure what to make of Beck's attitude as he goes over to put on the glasses and waits for Beck to make sure that they are calibrated properly.
"Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he just didn't even show," Beck grumbles as he fiddles with his computer settings. The Asset narrows his eyes but remains silent as the man continues to rant. "I mean," he continues, not looking up. "This is all really ridiculous anyways." He waves his hand vaguely, gritting his teeth. "My technology could be revolutionary, and what is he doing with it?" He drops his hand and glares at the computer screen. "Preforming in-house therapy sessions for robot-assassins." He looks up and finally gives the Asset a glance, glaring. "They could be using your skills but noo…"
The Asset swallows and his stomach twists at Beck's words, the rant reigniting his low-level worry that he isn't fulfilling his purpose with the Avengers. His brow furls as Beck continues to mumble about the acronym BARF, all without seeming to expect a response. Something tugs at his brain as he sits in silence, and his lips press together as he takes in the scene.
Until now, Beck had been silent on all these issues, obviously unwilling to bring them up with Stark. Stark is his boss, so it makes sense that he wouldn't want to get in trouble with him, but… he doesn't seem worried about the Asset hearing any of this and reporting him. He blinks and stares at Beck, the man not even paying him any attention as he continues to speak without regard for his audience.
He hadn't exactly realised it until now but… it had been a long time since anyone had spoken to him like this. The Hydra agents had used to do it all the time, ranting and complaining about Command around him without worrying if he was listening because it didn't really matter because he wasn't really there. But…the Avengers don't seem to do that; they never talk around him because they never seem to forget that he is actually alive.
His tongue presses into the roof of his mouth and he draws his lips into a thin line. He decides that he doesn't much care for Beck.
Thankfully, it doesn't take long for Stark to show up (and the Asset feels no small amount of satisfaction at the fact that the man had proven Beck wrong), and they soon get on with the BARF session.
"Alright," Stark says as he settles into his chair next to Beck, his employee silent now that his boss is around. "I'm going to start today with the last trigger word in the sequence, and see where that leads us."
The Asset nods and adjusts the glasses on his face, breathing in carefully as he waits for the familiar trigger word to sound and trying to mentally prepare himself to resist whatever mission the BARF tech comes up with.
"Грузовой вагон," His handler's voice sounds through the speakers. Freight car.
The hologram projectors on the walls activate and he sees his holo-self come into view, the holo-Asset sitting in the Siberian calibration chair, Handler-Karpov standing in front of him, holding a red book.
"Доброе утро, Солдат," he says as he sets the book down on a side table. Good morning, Soldier.
"Я готов отвечать," the holo-Asset replies, his gaze steady. Ready to comply. The Asset shivers at the familiar phrase, one he hasn't had to utter in a very long time, and he watches as Handler-Karpov picks up a file.
"У меня есть для тебя миссия," he says, as the holo-Asset flicks his eyes over him, his hair still wet from his recent cryofreeze and a tremor running through him from being wiped. I have a mission for you. He holds out the file. "Санкционируй и Извлекай. Без свидетелей." Sanction and extract. No witnesses.
The cuffs on the chair disengage and the holo-Asset sits up, taking the offered file, his gaze rapidly growing emptier as he settles into mission mode. He flips the file open and the Asset's breath stalls as he catches sight of a horribly familiar picture.
Howard Stark, the file reads.
Birth: August 15, 1917
Maria Stark
Birth: April 23, 1920
AN: *swings this chapter at you like a bat* Here you go!
Anyway…
So I heard that in the comics Bucky manages to go rogue during the 60s or 70s for a little bit, so this is my headcanon for that. Pierce is just so terrible, ugh. But I've always wondered why the Russians chose Sputnik as Bucky's shutdown protocol, since it's such a symbolic word from the late 50s - early 60s, and I imagine the rest of his trigger words were developed in the late 40s - early 50s.
Meanwhile Beck was a little shady, which is hardly a surprise. And. You know. We gonna hafta deal with Howard now so… *edges away*
