Meant to update way earlier. Forgot. Got lots of new followers :D Hello, Friends! I hope you are all enjoying my story thus far. Easter is today (It's midnight here, now….) So if I don't get to update later tonight, sorry. I am staying with my parents as long as I can, then I have to drive back to school and maybe thing about getting homework done….

Review and let me know thoughts, questions, concerns, predictions, etc.

Chapter 8

"Arnim Zola seems to have been the one who actually carried out the procedure on you," Clara murmured, flipping through the files covered in Russian. They sat on the floor with their backs against the door, pages and pages of information spread out on the floor in front of them.

Clara had a notebook balanced on one knee that she had been writing down the key notes in from the files as Bucky translated them. He read most of them aloud to her, but there were some he had put aside, claiming they were unimportant.

"But who ordered it," he muttered, eyes scanning another page. "This one is notes about my mental stability in the beginning." He put it in the pile of not-important-papers and picked up another.

"Well, we know it was Hydra."

"Yeah, but I want a name," he growled. "I want to know where their base is."

"From the pattern the papers were in the file—newer stuff on top, older stuff on the bottom." Clara pulled the folder off his lap and flipped to the back page, letting out a shuddering gasp as the folder slipped through her fingers.

"What?" The Winter Soldier took everything back and flipped to the last pages until he saw what she had seen.

"Sorry," she muttered, "Just took me by surprise."

He stared down emotionlessly at the picture stapled to the page. It was an old photo, quality-wise. It was of him, of course, but not as he was presently. He looked like he should have been dead. And falling 300 feet—he rightfully should have been. But the photo in his hand proved that Hydra went to some lengths to keep their asset from dying.

In the photo, he was lying on a gurney, the sheet covering his lower half bloodied on the left side where half his arm lay mutilated. "I have these...strands of memories. Fragments."

Clara shook her head, "you don't have to—"

"I have memories of going in and out of consciousness from the time Hydra found me, lying in the snow until right before the procedure." She watched as he looked over the page. "They brought me to a small base on the border of Belgium."

"You're sure?" She leaned over and looked at the words that made no sense to her as if they would rearrange themselves into something she could read.

He pointed to a line of text. "That's a Belgian address."

"Can you read it out to me?" she asked quietly, reading her pen over her paper. She wrote it down exactly as he said it and then looked back up at him. He ran a tongue between his lips and then pressed them together. "You can't go there."

The Winter Soldier's eyes snapped up to hers. "Why not?" he demanded.

Clara leaned away from his aggressive change in attitude and hastily explained. "I really want them to remove the pieces in your head first." He stayed silent, waiting. "It's been who knows how many years since you've been there—whatever is there is not going anywhere for the time being. Just give me two weeks. By then you should be completely free from Hydra."

His glare softened and he moved the paper to a different stack in front of them, laying it out away from the rest. "Alright."

"How much of the file is left?" she asked, slightly distracted by re-reading her notes.

"Not much. The rest looks like more psychological evaluations and general notes on the shock treatments and conditioning," he sighed. "I can translate those word for word for you later, if you want—they'll probably make more sense to you than me, anyways. None of this is about what I've done."

"Do you really want to read that file if it exists?" Clara asked softly.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Don't do that to yourself," she advised, stretching out her legs and leaning heavily back against the door. "Don't make tallies, don't give them a name. Don't forget that it happened, but don't let it keep you from moving on."

"I've killed people, Clara."

"So have a lot of field agents," she countered. "So do soldiers in the war. But you can't let it hold you back from making things right, from atoning."

"The missions I remember—can I really move on from that?" he barely whispered. "Can I really atone for all that blood?"

"Only if you let yourself."

Someone tried to push open the door, but with the two sitting against it, it just painfully bumped into their backs. Clara scooted away from the door, the Winter Soldier reaching up to open it.

"Why are you guys sitting on the floor?" Tony asked. A small, misguided smirk made its way onto his face and while it went completely over the Winter Soldier's head, Clara was used to that kind of facial expression and glared.

"What do you need, Stark?"

He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. "Bruce and I wanted to discuss the procedure—but if you're both busy." The Winter Soldier stood swiftly and reached down with his flesh hand to help Clara off the floor. Tony's eyes examined the paper scattered around the room. "What were you two looking at in here, anyways?"

Clara stepped out into the hallway and slapped him across the face. "That's for calling Steve when I specifically told you not to."

Tony rubbed his cheek and moved so the Winter Soldier could follow them into the hall, closing the door behind him. "Well, you didn't specifically tell me not to. In fact, if memory serves, you just said we'd take it slow."

"Stark," Clara said, warning him.

"Dr. Maitland, if the roles had been reversed, if it had been me and Rhodey, I would want to know where my best friend was after I'd found out he wasn't actually dead," Tony explained, walking down the hall towards the elevators. "I was doing Cap a favor."

"But it wasn't you and Rhodey," Clara snapped, following him. "It was him and Steve. And he expressed that he didn't want Steve to know he was here."

"No, not what was expressed," Tony smirked, pressing the button to call the elevator. He glanced over at the other man and shrugged. "He said he didn't want to talk to Cap, and from what Bruce told me, he didn't."

"You're such a wanker sometimes," Clara muttered.

"Steve and I are not friends," the soldier pressed.

"Maybe, but at least Cap has some peace of mind knowing you're with the Avengers and not with Hydra," Tony stated flatly, turning his back on them.

Something in him deflated as he understood Tony's intentions. He reasoned with the man in his head—something he felt like he hadn't done in a while. Internally, he let it go, deciding not to let it bother him.

They all filed into Tony's office on one of the upper floors and filled in the three chairs in front of the desk, which Tony took his seat on the other side.

"So—I'm going to recommend we do this as soon as possible," Banner started. He glanced over at the soldier, then back to Tony. "We might have shorted out anything Hydra is using to track him, but there's no way to tell for sure unless we remove and destroy the material."

The Winter Soldier opened his mouth to speak, but Tony cut him off. "I've got military grade satellites and even my own tracking everything and everyone from SHIELD and known Hydra facilities," he assured. "No one is getting near this tower without clearance."

"Any idea where Clint and Natasha are?" Bruce asked—whether he was trying to make a point to Tony or not wasn't clear.

"Clint went off the grid two days ago in Spain. I can guarantee Romanoff went to rendezvous with him somewhere in Europe," Tony muttered, clicking away at his computer before spinning the monitor towards the others. "This is the guy I recommend for the procedure. He's brilliant, quick, and he was the one who got the shrapnel out of my body. He'll stay quiet."

"He has to be sworn to secrecy," Clara pressed.

"How do we know he's not Hydra?" the Winter Soldier questioned.

"We don't," Bruce muttered. "But with the three of us in the same room, he'll only be able to do what we tell him—nothing more, and nothing less."

The Winter Soldier slid down in his seat a bit, completely contrasting with the soldier-esque postured he'd harbored for the last day or two. "If you're not completely sure he's not Hydra, I don't want it done." He started to bounce his leg and crossed his arms, looking each of them in the eye. "If he is Hydra, removing the chips will be pointless—they'll know where I am."

"If we don't, Hydra might find you anyways," Clara explained. She put a hand on his knee to keep it from bouncing. "That's a nervous habit associated with anxiety."

"Can you blame him?" Bruce grumbled.

Tony took a deep breath. "I trust this guy. I can have him here in two days." Tony paused and Clara could see him actually thinking about his words before he said anything. "Get a haircut, a new set of clothes. We'll come up with an alias—say you're a SHIELD agent with experimental implants. Your doctor died in the collapse of the SHIELD base, so you need the pieces removed."

"There's really no other choice," Clara whispered to him. "But it's still your choice."

"My choice," he murmured to himself. He weighed the options heavily in his mind. On one hand, he could run—none of these people would be hurt. He could hunt down Hydra on his own. A tempting choice, he realized.

On the other hand, he could wait, have the tech removed, and then go hunt down Hydra, ensuring he wasn't traceable. But it would put Clara at risk, he decided, looking up at her. She had been so kind to him with no motivation at all. What was she getting out of this? It had to go beyond her claims of just wanting to help him.

She could be Hydra.

Okay, but even if she wasn't, when she found out, in detail, all the things the Winter Soldier had done, she wouldn't want to help him any longer.

"Alright," he finally conceded. "How long will recovery take?"

"We estimate a week," Bruce said, standing.

"Alright, for now, why don't you guys go get something to eat—maybe a haircut and some clothes?" Tony suggested, pushing a credit card towards them. "Just don't go too crazy." He winked at Clara and she rolled her eyes, taking the plastic card and pocketing it.

"I'm not sure me leaving this tower is a good idea," the Winter Soldier muttered.

"Hydra's not gonna be able to find you—the city is still a bit chaotic from the destruction—no one will think twice," Clara said.

"I'm not worried about me—"

Bruce let out a dry laugh. "Kid, remind me to show you what I did to Harlem once," he muttered as he left. "You're not the only one with a history."

"C'mon," Clara sighed, gesturing for the soldier to follow her.

The Winter Soldier stood, but didn't follow the dark haired girl to the door. He stared down at Tony. "How do I know you're not Hydra?"

"You don't," Tony replied slowly. "But guess what, Soldier—you were."

The Winter Soldier's jaw clenched at the truth in Tony's words.

"Enough," Clara hissed, stepping between them. "We'll talk about it later—for now, let's go find something to eat—according to that file, Hydra fed you a bland diet when they weren't feeding you intravenously. You've got a lot to catch up on."

"Try Schwarma," Tony suggested as she closed his office door behind them.