Things settle into a relaxed sort of understanding between him and Stark. Their relationship doesn't actually change much, since Stark hadn't really sought him out before this had all happened, and the Asset does his best to respect his space afterwards. He now understands better why Stark had avoided him previously, but he can at least be secure in the knowledge that he and Stark can be in the same room together and work together without having too much trouble.

His handler is obviously relieved by the development too, his shoulders relaxing in a way that suddenly clues the Asset in to how tense they had been before, when he and Stark are both able to pleasantly eat their respective meals one morning in the common room kitchen.

His handler is careful to remind him that he can speak with him any time he feels, about his BARF sessions, but the Asset isn't quite willing to take him up on that just yet. He knows his handler knows about his Hydra missions, but something about explaining to his handler the things he'd had to do in person is unappealing.

Instead he begins to write more frequently in his journal. While at first he had been primarily using it to catalogue his flashbacks, he now starts adding his own thoughts as well, finding the exercise helpful in calming his mind when faced with a particularly painful memory. Of course, with all the extra journaling, he finds his notebook starting to get full, and for several days he frets over whether he should start trying to ration his pages or somehow get another one.

He's obviously distracted by his conundrum because after a few days, he finds himself being thoroughly outmatched in his sparring session with Romanoff. Usually he's able to hold his own for a while, and it's interesting trying to predict Romanoff's style, but right now he isn't doing so well.

After Romanoff drops him for the fourth time, she stands over him, her hands on her hips, looking down on him. Back with Hydra, failure like this would be met with punishment, but now it only earns him a raised eyebrow. "Do you need a break?" She asks skeptically as he pulls himself up.

He tugs on his shirt and breathes out before shaking his hair away from his face. "No," he says, without moving back into a sparring position. Romanoff's eyebrow climbs higher at his inactivity, and she doesn't move either, standing waiting for him as he works on trying to say what he needs.

It shouldn't be this hard to ask for it. Romanoff had gotten him his journal in the first place, so surely she won't mind if he brings up getting a new one now. She might even be pleased that he had used her gift so thoroughly. With that in mind, he straightens his shoulders and focuses on Romanoff's left shoulder, not quite able to look at her. "I need… a journal," he says, trying not to mumble his words. "Mine's full."

A blink is her only indication that she might be surprised by his request and she nods her head, rotating her arms a few times in a stretch before shifting down into a sparring stance. "That can be arranged," she says, much to the Asset's relief.

After their sparring, Romanoff takes him out and gets him two new journals, a packet of pens and something called post-it notes. He can't help being mesmerized a little by the post-it notes. He doesn't think he's ever used something like them before, but he likes how colourful they are, and they help him organize the different sections in his notebooks.

oOo

He continues to work with Stark and the BARF tech. Beck continues to be passive aggressively angry about it for reasons the Asset isn't quite sure about, but he mostly ignores it, working instead on doing his best to neutralise the trigger words in his head. Now that he knows for sure that he doesn't need the them, that Hydra had put them in him and that his handler had not, it's easier to conceive getting rid of them. The trigger words had made him do terrible things, and he never wants to risk that again.

For the most part, in order to maximize his time with the BARF tech, he tries not to let it go off down memory lane, instead working within a memory to subvert the triggering process as it happens, messing up the order of the sequence or slipping in the wrong word, or, on some occasions, waiting until the end and trying to keep his holo-self from responding to the triggering.

He and Stark are still very careful to keep from playing the whole triggering sequence at once, since they're not sure what that would do, or if it would still trigger him, but he has to admit that he does feel like he's making progress.

And then Stark gets put back on active duty.

He doesn't go on any missions right away, partly because the Avengers don't have any, and partly because they want to ease him back into it, but the change does disrupt their BARF sessions a little. With Stark on-call, there's no guarantee when he or the other Avengers will be in the tower, so it's a little difficult to plan for future sessions.

"We might just have to get used to having Beck do them with you," Stark tells him one day. "He can run the tech and call anyone if there's any problems..." He looks up at him. "'Course, if you don't want that, then we'll think of something else."

The Asset swallows and tries not to let his nerves show. To be honest, something about Beck sets him on edge, but he doesn't want to let that get in the way of his progress. Beck had sat in on all his other sessions, so being there alone with him shouldn't be that big of a difference. It's not like he really interacts much with either Stark or Beck anyways during the sessions… so it should be fine.

Stark is still watching him, and the Asset nods. "That's fine," he says. "That way I can continue while the Avengers are gone."

Stark seems satisfied with his response and the Asset tries to steel himself, repeating his reasoning over in his head. Using Beck in the sessions is good because then he can work even when the Avengers are gone on missions, he can keep making progress even while they're gone and that is good. Yes.

He will just have to get used to Beck's manner. He's had plenty of worse handlers and agents, Beck hardly compares.

oOo

Beck starts taking a more active role in the BARF sessions, playing the triggers and controlling which ones they use, and soon after Stark gets cleared for duty, the Avengers get called in.

"It's just something small," his handler explains to him as the Avengers finish suiting up in the common room. "The city is having a celebration and the mayor is giving a speech."

Behind him, Stark scowls and grumbles under his breath as he checks the mechanism that will allow his suit to fold out around him. "Unfortunately, it's apparently part of our job to go look pretty and shake hands with people."

Off to the side, Barton snorts and adjusts his leather armguard. "Aw, Tony, I thought you liked the limelight."

Stark goes on to explain the difference between limelight and the-first-mission-he's-been-on-since-getting-a-chunk-of-metal-taken-out-of-his-chest, before turning towards the Asset. "I know we were going to have a BARF session today," he says, turning to position himself so that his suit can expand and fold over him in a flurry of moving parts. "But," His helmet flips over his face and his voice becomes more robotic. "I was thinking, today's a good day to let Beck take a shot at it." He flips down his helmet so that the Asset can see his face and flexes his fingers in his metal gauntlets. "We'll still be in the city if something goes wrong," he reassures. "It'd be a good test run."

The Asset pushes down his instinctual distaste for the idea and nods. Stark is right about the situation. Trying out BARF with Beck while the Avengers are still nearby is probably his best option, if he wants to get used to this. That doesn't mean he really enjoys the idea though.

This is progress, he reminds himself firmly as he flicks his eyes around the room and watches Wilson adjust the straps of his jetpack.

"Great," Stark says at his confirmation, his helmet folding back up and clicking into place as the other Avengers finish with their final preparations. "I'll let him know. He'll be here pretty quick."

The Asset nods again and shifts to stand at attention, watching silently as the Avengers pack off and prepare to head out. Silence falls over the common room and he can't seem to persuade himself to find something to do. Instead he stands still and waits – as if the familiar activity will somehow calm his sparking anxiety – until JARVIS finally informs him that Beck is making his way to the BARF room.

The Asset breathes in and readies himself, turning towards the elevator. Beck works with Stark, he reminds himself, because Stark must trust the man if he's willing to work with him like this. It'll be just like working with any other agent.


Beck isn't there yet, when he gets to the room, and his footsteps echo unsettlingly in the white space as he steps inside. He sweeps his eyes over the open floor and the set up of computer consoles in the corner, before moving to stand at attention in the middle of the room. He debates for a moment grabbing the glasses from by the computers, but eventually decides to wait instead. He can't remember for sure if he's ever grabbed the glasses without someone's permission, and he'd rather be safe than sorry with his first session with Beck.

It doesn't take long for Beck to arrive, the man rushing in with his phone clutched to his chest, his eyes darting around the room with an almost manic energy as the door shuts behind him. The Asset swallows uneasily as Beck stumbles to a stop, his eyes skating over him and the empty space before he shakes his head and turns towards the computer consoles.

"Alright," he says as he moves to sit down, his hand shaking slightly as he sets his phone next to him before he brings his head up to give the Asset a confident, almost arrogant look. He flashes him a smile, and something about it sends shivers running down the Asset's spine as Beck swipes at something on his phone screen. His eyes glint as he looks at his phone, and the Asset finds himself taking a step back, his hands tightening behind him. A second later and Beck looks up, his eyes flashing something dark and dangerous. "Let's get started, shall we?"

A sense of foreboding settles in his stomach and the Asset opens his mouth, ready to protest the start of the session because he doesn't have the glasses yet. That doesn't seem to stop Beck though, and the Asset's pulse trips over itself as he watches the man press something on his phone. "Let's just hope we haven't messed it up already." He hears Beck mumble, his brows furled in concentration as he raises the volume of his phone.

"Желаниe." His handler's voice echoes from the phone and the Asset stumbles back another step, his eyes widening in panic as his breath catches in his chest. His eyes dart from the phone to Beck's face as he tries to understand. He's not sure where Beck got his recording, since Stark normally uses the computer, and the quality of Beck's recording seems a bit off, but it's hardly an issue because he doesn't have the glasses and Beck is playing the triggers.

"Wait—" He opens his mouth, ready to tell Beck his mistake, but his voice gets choked off as another word plays.

"Pжавый." Rusted.

He shudders, his breath catching, and he finds himself completely unprepared against the unexpected assault. He'd been— he'd been planning on fighting the trigger words, but Beck hadn't even given him a chance to prepare and he hadn't given him the glasses.

He pulls away, panic clouding his mind as he presses his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sound. The volume is too loud though, and his hearing too enhanced and nothing he does stops him from hearing—

"Семнадцать." Seventeen.

A thin whine escapes his throat and he stumbles further back, his shoulders meeting the wall behind him as he cringes away. He does not want this. He does not want this and part of his mind is screaming at him to rush at Beck, to snatch away his phone, to stop it somehow, but the rest of him is locked up and paralysed with overwhelming fear because he's not supposed to resist the triggering sequence.

He pants, and in the background, above the sounds of his own frantic breathing and pounding heart, he can hear JARVIS speak up. His mind is too frazzled to make out anything beyond reprimanding sounds, but he can imagine the AI is trying to stop Beck. He knows instantly, with a frenzied certainty, that the AI will not be able to help him. Beck's phone isn't connected to the system so there's no way to shut it off and Beck doesn't seem to be stopping—

"Рассвет." Daybreak.

The trigger tugs at something in his brain, and a burning acidic fear shoots through him. He gasps and shakes his head frantically, his hands digging into his ears. He doesn't want— He has to— to stop it. He can stop it. He can, he can— He— He just has to think. They're just words. He shudders as his mind races, threatening a distraught meltdown because he'd been busy practicing messing up the sequence, not fighting the words— Not exactly. But— but he can. He can. Daybreak is— daybreak is—

a hand reaching to yank his hair, his handler jerking him awake. It's hardly light out, but the barest hints of a pink sunrise shine through the trees where they've stopped to rest. He's awake almost instantly, his scalp burning as he—

"Печь." Furnace.

his knee gives a twinge as he moves to carefully kneel down by the heater—this handler likes kneeling. He thinks he might have twisted his knee in pursuit of the Target though – the joint sending pulses of pain up and down his leg as he settles – but at least it's warm here, by the—

"Девять." Nine.

He counts the strikes, breathing through them and trying to focus on something besides the pain. It helps to count them, gives him something else to think about besides— —"–of them," his handler [Steve] says, pointing at the rudimentary map in front of them. "We'll have to set up a distraction—

"Доброкачественные." Benign.

He scowls at the paper, twirling the pencil in his hand – his right hand – as he tries to remember the correct spelling of the word. Up front, Mr. Rollin- paces, his eyes sharp as he scans the class, checking for cheaters. Their eyes meet for half-a-second before he ducks his head again and—

"Возвращение домой." Homecoming.

"Com'on," he huffs, grabbing onto Steve's bookbag with one hand and holding out his other. Steve wipes his mouth irritably and winces as he brushes the growing bruise on his cheek. His pants are torn at the knee and he can only imagine Ma Rogers' reaction when they finally make it home again—

"Один." One.

Ma smiles as she jostles Alice, prompting her to wave hello to someone. She's turning one today, and the adults are gathered around the table, cooing over her. Ma Rogers has a soft expression on her face as she pulls out her gift, a blue and white blanket she had crocheted herself—

"Грузовой вагон." Freight car.

"Pa got me it for Christmas," he tells Steve as he sets up the tracks, his eyes alight with excitement. It's a wooden set, not as cool as the electric one that Billy had gotten, but Billy had already gotten in trouble for breaking the wheel off one of his cars, and Steve's going to make them some paper figures to use along with—

"Soldat." Beck is speaking now, and the Asset blinks, opening his eyes to realise that he's sunk down onto his knees by the back wall. His face is wet and his vision swims in front of him as he sucks in a desperate breath, his hands loose over his ears as his thoughts continue to race and crash around in his head. Soldat, Beck had said. Words rise in his throat and he swallows shakily. He knows the response to that. He should—

The sound of splintering wood and a combusting explosion distracts him, and he darts his head up to see the door to the room shudder, the place where the handle had been now a smoking, glowing hole. He stares uncomprehendingly as a low whirling reaches his ears and the door bursts inward, kicked open by a shiny metal boot. The door hits the wall with a clang, and Beck's mouth drops open as Stark marches in, the eyepieces of his helmet glowing ominously and his hand repulsors raised and ready.

Beck's face pales and he whips back around to face the Asset. "Soldat," he snaps, a hysterical edge to his voice. "Get up—"

The Asset shudders, and for half-a-second he almost stands up, because— because— that's what he's supposed to do, he's supposed to— But the mechanisms of Stark's suit whirl, and he darts his eyes over to watch as the man takes three powerful steps to where Beck is standing, his metal hand coming up to snap onto Beck's wrist, the repulsor of his other hand shining bright in his face.

"I wouldn't try it," Stark says, a dark tone underlying his vocalizer. His helmet turns to face the Asset and it retracts, revealing his flyaway hair and the lines of worry on his face. "Just hold it together Barnes," he orders sharply, before casting a quick glance at the ceiling. "JARVIS—"

He gets cut off by the AI himself. "You have an incoming call, Sir," he informs them, something tight to his voice.

"Put it through," Stark replies just as tightly, shifting his grip as Beck's face twists into a scowl and he tugs at the hold keeping him immobile.

"Tony." His handler's voice sounds over the audio system and a wave of hysterical relief rolls through the Asset at the sound, his breath catching and his head dropping so that his hair swings in front of his face, his entire frame beginning to tremble under him. "What happened?" His handler continues. "You suited up and left the ceremony with hardly a word."

Stark huffs out a breath and narrows his eyes at Beck who's busy glaring daggers at him. "Sorry about that," he replies without taking his eyes off Beck. "JARVIS alerted me to an extremely time-sensitive situation in the tower and I was the one who could get here the fastest." He casts a glance at the Asset, his eyes sweeping him as if trying to assess his condition, before he looks back at Beck. "I'm in the BARF room with Barnes and Beck," he tells Handler-Steve. "When can you get here?"

"ETA two minutes," Handler-Steve replies to Stark's blink of surprise. "When you rushed off, we figured something was up and made our excuses and left."

It's hard to tell because of the suit, but Stark seems to relax slightly at the reassurance of backup before he signs off and turns his attention to the renewed struggles of Beck.

"You're making a mistake," the man hisses, a furious light in his eyes. "You think you're oh so brilliant but you won't even use the tools you have in front of you." Stark's brow furls but Beck isn't finished yet. "You and the rest of them, you think you guys are heroes?" He spits the word, his hair falling in front of his eyes. "You think you're a hero and you go off and shake hands all day with politicians." He waves his free hand at Stark in a sharp, angry gesture, seemingly unconcerned with the threatening repulsor near his face.

Stark shakes his head. "Alright Beck," he says, sounding unimpressed and tugging on his arm. "Time to wrap it up–"

Beck sneers at him. "Oh sure," he says, pulling back. "You can go smooze around all day, maybe fly around in your 'fancy toy' and fiddle with a few things, while you go and squander my tech." His free hand hits his chest with his last words and a vein pokes out in his neck. "It has so many applications— you could do so much with it." His eyes glint and the Asset shudders to think of what kinds of things Beck might want to do with his tech. "It has so much potential, and you turned it into a joke."

Beck lets out a frantic laugh and Stark presses his lips together as he watches the man unravel. Beck shakes his head, his eyes flashing. "But you have a habit of throwing away everything, don't you?" His lips curl. "First your weapons manufacturing–" Stark tenses. "–then my tech, and him!" Beck sweeps his head around to look at the Asset and he finds himself cringing back into the wall.

"Look at him!" Beck snaps, continuing to pull at Stark's hold. "You want to make a difference in the world? You want to be a hero?" He glares, his eyes dark with anger. "You have the perfect tool in front of you, and you want to ruin it. You want to fiddle around and coddle him when you could be using him properly—"

"That's enough," Stark cuts in, his voice heavy and foreboding, his face dark like a brewing storm.

Beck stills for a second, scanning Stark, before he lets out a bitter laugh. "It doesn't matter anyways now, I guess," he says, with a slow shake of his head. "Because I've got him now. He's under my control." His eyes gleam. "I'll show you— You could have been doing so much with him." His expression takes a sudden cruel edge to it and he smiles. "It's too late to stop him now. He wouldn't stop for Howard, I doubt he'd stop for you or Captain Rogers."

Stark stiffens, a look of fury crossing over his face, but the Asset hardly sees it amid the influx of horror that floods his brain. He— Beck wants him to— No no no he can't! He can't— He— His vision blurs and his breathing picks up as he presses his metal hand to the floor in front of him, trying desperately to find something to ground himself with. His pulse is so loud in his ears that he can hardly hear anything else, but he does hear when Beck turns back to him, panic rising with every moment.

"Asset—"

A small distant part of him notices that the name sounds weird, realising in that moment that it had been ages since anyone has actually called him by it. Still, he doesn't have much time to think about it because as Beck speaks, he picks up the sound of pounding feet and he darts his head up in time to see his handler burst into the room, his shield out and ready and his eyes bright with righteous fury.

The sight of his handler seems to spook Beck, and he desperately ducks the hand Stark tries to wrap around his mouth. "Asset!" He snaps, a frantic edge to his voice. "Asset attack—"

"No!" The Asset bursts out, before he can even think, his head ducking and his shoulders pressing into the wall behind him, his breaths coming fast and heavy in his lungs. Beck freezes and stares at him open-mouthed, his eyes wide with shock, and the Asset sucks in a breath, his hands shaking. "No," he says again, something high and desperate in his voice. "No, I— No. No. I won't. I won't."

He presses himself more firmly back into the wall, as if that will somehow keep him from jumping up and attacking everyone, and he tries to breathe, the shaking in his limbs making it hard to concentrate. He won't do it. No matter what Beck says, he won't do it, he won't

"I'll deal with him," Stark says to his handler as he wrestles Beck into a better hold. "You take care of Barnes."

The Asset sees his handler nod and turn to him as Stark drags Beck from the room, the man protesting vehemently the whole way, his face a picture of outrage at the fact that the Asset hadn't complied. Stark makes it to the door and their sounds fade, leaving the Asset and his frantic breathing to fill the room.

"Bucky," his handler says softly, his voice bringing tears to the Asset's eyes. "You're okay." His handler crouches, his hands out placatingly before he eases his shield off his arm and sets it on the floor, his eyes never leaving the Asset's face. "I'm here," he says. "It's okay."

The Asset's breath is thin and wheezing and he can't seem to stop shaking, his heart in his throat as he looks over to his handler. "I won't," he gets out with a frantic shake of his head. His voice raises hysterically. "I won't—"

"I know Buck," his handler says soothingly, his eyes bright. "You did so good."

The Asset's breath catches on a sob and he shudders, pulling into himself. "He tried— He tried to—" His right hand climbs up to grip his hair and he ducks his head into his chest, positively shaking at what had just happened. Beck had been trying to purposely trigger him. It hadn't been an accident; it wasn't a mistake. He'd been trying to purposely trigger him and he'd wanted to—

"I know," his handler replies tightly, easing forward slightly, his hands out in a peaceful gesture. "JARVIS told me when I got to the tower. I'm so sorry, he should have never—" He breathes in and seems to reel in a thread of anger before looking up at him, his eyes pleading. "Can I come over there? Or do you want me to stay here?" He eyes watch him as the Asset tries to regulate his breathing. "Whatever you want Buck, whatever you need."

The Asset breathes out a few choppy breaths that are edged with unshed tears and a whimper sounds deep in his throat. He finds himself reaching for his handler, his vision clouding as his shaking intensifies. Handler-Steve is there immediately, reassuringly solid as the Asset's hands grasp at his uniform, another sob forcing its way out of his throat. His handler reaches up to hold onto his shoulders and the Asset hangs his head, trying to focus enough to follow the up and down motions of his handler's chest under his hands.

"It didn't— It didn't work," he gasps out, a growing sense of awe and dumbfounded shock unfolding in his brain. His hands shake on his handler's uniform and he pulls him closer, pressing his forehead to his collarbone in an effort to ground himself. "It didn't work," he says again, because part of him still can't quite believe it. Beck had tried to trigger him; he'd said the words and it hadn't—

"It didn't work," his handler confirms, moving to wrap one arm around the Asset's shoulders, his chest continuing to breathe evenly under him, his voice slightly strained, as if he were fighting back tears. "You did it. You did so, so good."

Hot tears escape the Asset's eyes and he presses his head more firmly against his handler's collarbone, the knuckles of his right hand white in its hold on his handler's uniform. His head moves as his handler breathes in, and the Asset breathes in too, his eyes squeezing shut as he works on calming down from his scare.

He feels absolutely drained, completely and totally sucked dry, but underneath everything is a growing spark of glowing pride. Beck had tried to trigger him, and it hadn't worked. He'd done it.


AN: I was really excited to post this chapter!

Beck finally showed his true colours and lived up to his instability. As you all knew, he's really so slimy *shudders* But he also made like, six new enemies all at once, so.

Poor Bucky is shaken, BUT he resisted the triggering sequence. Writing that was very interesting, since his programming is basically tearing itself apart and trying to hang on with white knuckles at the same time. Has anyone read Ella Enchanted? This kind of reminds me of the scene where she breaks her spell.