Marvel Cinematic Universe
The Path Not Taken
By Gabrielle Lawson

Chapter Four

Steve woke up and immediately looked at the floor on the other side of the coffee table. That's where Bucky had chosen to lay down. Steve hadn't argued as he remembered what he and Sam had discussed about beds the day they met. The only problem was that Bucky wasn't there.

Steve got up and went looking. He wasn't in the kitchen. He decided to check the half-bath before heading upstairs, and he really hoped Bucky hadn't left the house. The door was shut but he could see light underneath it. So he knocked.

There was no response, so he called out, "Bucky, you in there?"

"I am," was the reply. The door opened a crack.

Steve opened it a little farther. Bucky, still in his night clothes, was looking intently at the mirror. "You okay? What are you thinking?"

"I can't remember this face."

Steve stepped beside him and offered a small smile. "I can. Hair's different, but I see my friend there."

"I remember your face. Smaller, but your face." He still faced the mirror which now had both their faces. "I think I did know you. I don't remember what a friend is. But this?" He touched his reflection in the mirror. "It's like I've never seen it."

Of course, memories would be from his point of view. Unless he had a memory of looking at a photograph or a mirror, he wouldn't see his own face. "A friend is someone who accepts and loves you as you are. You like being with them, doing things. A friend can even make unfun things better if they're together. They help each other and they care what happens to each other."

"I did those things?"

Steve smiled fully. "Yes, you did. We met when you saved me from some bullies who were trying to steal my lunch money. I can't even count how many times you saved me from bullies. When we were still young, we played together, ate meals with each other's families. When we got older, we'd go on double dates together. I moved in with you after my mom died. It was you and me against the world. You took care of me when I was sick, sometimes working three jobs so we could afford medicine, food and rent. Then you went off to the Army, and when I finally got there, I helped you. I rescued you from Zola the first time. War was terrible but it was better because we had each other."

"Until I fell." Bucky looked down. "It was long way down. I don't remember landing. It hurt here." He pointed to a place on his left arm about six inches below his artificial shoulder. So he'd lost the arm on the way down.

Steve chanced putting his arm around Bucky's shoulders. He did it lightly, without pressing down. Bucky looked at him but didn't shrug him off. "I wish I'd caught you," Steve told him. "Seems like so many things went wrong since I lost you."


Natasha found Tony still at the conference table. He'd taken off his jacket, though he hadn't changed his clothes. "Have you been up all night?"

"He killed my parents." It was said so matter-of-factly, like that was the answer to her question.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Tony."

"They thawed him out, dragged him to the machine that would zap his brain with four hundred volts of electricity, read some words out of a book, then told him to retrieve some super soldier serum and kill all witnesses. Well, that serum was in the trunk of my parents' car. So there goes Mom and Dad. There were five doses. There may be worse than him out there, so I followed that thread a ways. They rewarded five of their best kill squad members for their prowess. But they attacked their minders so they were stuck in the freezer. Could still be there. Maybe not."

Natasha let her hand stay. "You don't blame Barnes."

He looked up at her. "Blame him? He was a puppet. Vasily Karpov was the one holding his strings. But those other five, they didn't have to be brainwashed. They were already loyal to Hydra. Proves Barnes is who you say he is. They had to take everything from him, repeatedly, to ensure he didn't go off reservation. You know how many times they zapped him? Forty-seven. Between ten and forty minutes each time. And that's not even the worst thing they did to him."

Forty-seven. Had he shown signs of remembering so they made it routine? Natasha sat in the chair she'd left the night before. A strong odor struck her. "What is that?"

Tony reached down and moved a trash can away from them. "I was deep in torture and human experimentation. Stomach had issues with that."

She was half-afraid to ask. "The worst?"

Tony stood and kicked the trash can a little farther away. It wobbled a bit but, fortunately, didn't spill its contents. "It wasn't the installation of a forty pound titanium alloy bionic arm while he was going in and out of consciousness. Wasn't the mind games and classic stuff like sleep deprivation and inadequate food and water, that made him lose track of time and his own name. It was the seven hours they pumped that serum in while they blasted him with rays of vita radiation 'cause it had worked on Steve Rogers. He died. He had a seizure and his heart gave out. They revived him, tubed him, then went right back to it. Left him strapped to the bed overnight."

Natasha closed her eyes. Her experience had been cruel, especially as she was a child at the time. But this was another level. She'd at least been sedated for her surgery. The Barnes she'd had breakfast with yesterday had no idea what he'd suffered. Yet. If his memories kept returning, he would.

"Frankly, I'm shocked he can put a sentence together with all they did. That machine alone. So no, I don't blame Barnes." He sighed and sat again, pulling up a list. "These are his mostly successful Hydra-driven missions."

She estimated twenty missions there. First in Romania 1949. Last in DC just a couple days ago. But she didn't see her engineer there. "I think the Soviets used him, too." She remembered that Tony had said the name, Vasily Karpov. "I've called in a favor."

"Makes sense. He was kept in a base in Siberia, probably with the other five. We should probably do something about them." He turned to her. "Honestly, Barnes has got some mad skills. We could use him."

'Use him' didn't sound right. "As an Avenger?"

Tony waved a hand. "Of course! See this one here?" He pointed to one of the more recent missions. "He took out an eight-man security team and the target in just under thirty seconds. Knives and bullets for the goons. Crushed throat for the target. And then there's the poor schlub who happened to witness said throat-crushing."

She could guess his mission had included 'no witnesses.' "I've been on the receiving end of his 'mad skills,'" she reminded him. "But he's nowhere near ready to fight the good fight with us. He's anti-them but he's not pro-us. He needs to know who he is. And he's not a tool to use for our benefit. He's a man who forgot how to be human."

Tony nodded. "I know how they did that. Ten words, incongruous, in sequence. Most unlocked those mad skills. Others suppressed fear and remorse and ensured loyalty and a need, a drive, to complete the mission. They didn't even reward him for success. 'Well done, Soldier,' is about as good as he got. Then off to the freezer for another half decade."

Natasha looked at the rest of the list. She was shocked to see President Kennedy in 1963. So there had been another shooter. But the second mission had an asterisk by it. "Why's there an asterisk in '51?"

Tony opened the file. She read along as he summarized. "Initially successful, several high value Korean targets. Then every GI they sent after him. Until—hold on to your hat—an African American super soldier by the name of Isaiah Bradley. They got into it and Barnes ended up with only half an arm. The metal one, that is."

"Another US super soldier after Steve?" Natasha hadn't expected that at all. "What happened to him?"

Tony waved to the computer. "I'm sure it's in here somewhere. Been busy with this horror story all night."

Why in Hydra's files? "What makes you think that? He was one of the good guys."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Like S.H.I.E.L.D? Then why haven't we heard of him? A Black Captain American would have made the news even in the '50's."

He had a point. With Hydra inside S.H.I.E.L.D, there was no limit to the awful things they could have done.

Tony sat back. "I didn't find him under 'Winter Soldier' or any version of his name."

Natasha bit. "How'd you find him?"

"By what they called him." He pulled up a file, in English. "'Enhanced Manpower Asset.' Your buddy, Pierce, was given a User's Guide when they transferred him from Siberia."


Sam unlocked the door and let himself in. His day at work had been surreal. He knew and cared for the vets in his group, but the last few days had been intense and somewhat traumatic for him. Still, he hadn't wanted to tell the others about it. He wasn't sure he wanted anyone knowing his involvement just yet. He liked that he could come home and not be bombarded with news reporters shoving microphones in his face and asking questions. And he certainly couldn't mention that the very scary terrorist the authorities were looking for was staying in his house.

He found Steve and Bucky playing cards in the living room. Rummy, from the sound of it. Definitely surreal. He went upstairs to change into more comfortable clothes.

Afterward, he went to the kitchen to decide on dinner. He had fish, cheddar brats, and pasta. And two super soldiers who didn't have jobs. This was going to be tricky. He wasn't sure he could support the three of them for more than a few days. Barnes had just as much an appetite as Steve. As it was, Sam was going to have to go shopping tomorrow or the next day.

He closed the fridge when he heard a knock on the sliding glass door. He stole a glance in the living room but Barnes had disappeared. Sam moved to the door and peeked through the blinds. Natasha was there with none other than Tony Stark. Sam opened the door and ushered them inside, checking to be sure no one—especially any news reporters—was watching.

Natasha made the introductions. "Sam, this is Tony. Tony, Sam Wilson."

Stark smiled. "So you're the one with the wings."

"Was," Sam admitted. "The wings were torn off in the fight." He didn't want to blame Barnes in front of Tony Stark. He didn't know where Stark stood yet.

"If you can get me the plans," Stark offered, "I can make you a better set. Natasha knows how to reach me. It's nice meeting you, but I'd really like to meet the man of the hour."

Stark made his way to the living room and Natasha followed. Sam kind of had to, as well. But he knew Barnes wasn't there. Steve was. Steve stood up from the couch.

"Where is he?" Stark asked.

"Tony.…" Steve started, holding a hand up.

Stark cut him off. "Natasha gave me the short version last night, Cap." He leaned on the back of the couch. "And I stayed up all night doing the homework." He got quiet, but Sam could still hear. "Where you only imagine what he went through with Hydra, I know." Then he raised his voice back to slightly louder than normal. "I'm not here to turn him in or hurt him. My parents might want me to, but I know it wasn't him. He didn't have a choice."

Steve seemed to have caught the reference. He looked at Tony in concern. "He's upstairs. I'll see if I can get him to come down. He doesn't know you. Remember that."

Steve started up. Stark looked around. "Nice place, Wingman. Quaint."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Tony."

"It's Falcon," Sam corrected. "Or Mr. Wilson. Or Sam, if we're friendly."

Stark held up his hands. "I'm always friendly."

"Sam!"

Steve sounded panicked, so Sam pushed past Stark and bounded up the stairs. Steve was kneeling on the floor in his bedroom. Barnes was leaning against the bed. Sam thought he looked scared. He was sweating. "Stark said he won't hurt him."

"It's not that," Steve replied. He turned back to Barnes. "Can you stand?"

Now Sam was worried. He went in to help Barnes, who was struggling. "What's wrong?"

"Pain hasn't stopped," Barnes breathed. That reminded Sam of his right humerus. He tried to help him up without putting pressure on the bone, which wasn't easy. He was as heavy as Steve. Fortunately, Steve had his left side and he did most of the work.

"Where's the pain?" Sam asked.

"Lower left torso," Steve replied. "He should be healing by now. All his other bruises and cuts are. Same as mine." They got him into the hall.

Sam wasn't so sure. "He got a serum. Not necessarily same as yours."

"Pain doesn't last." Barnes was breathing shallow and he hadn't sounded convinced.

Sam tried to think fast. "We need to get him to a hospital."

"What're you gonna do?" Stark asked from the bottom of the stairs. "Call 911? That'll go well. If they don't recognize him right away, they'll take his clothes off and see that arm."

"You have a better idea?" Steve asked, urgent but with a tinge of anger. "He could be bleeding internally."

"I do. Stark tower. I have the facilities, discrete medical personnel. I've got a chopper back at the dam. We can be in New York in thirty minutes."

"It's his best bet," Natasha said. "I'll drive. Tony can call ahead." She went to the back door and held it open. Sam let Steve handle Barnes. He quickly grabbed their suitcases and zipped them up. He gathered the deck of cards and put them in Steve's case. Then he followed the others to the car out back and tucked them into the trunk.

Then he went to the driver's window. "You have my number," he told Natasha. "You see any tractors, you call me."

She nodded. "Tractors?" Stark asked from the passenger seat.


Natasha sat across from Barnes and Steve as they flew over the city. Barnes was definitely sweating and looking a bit pale. She imagined him back in that machine, technicians swarming over him. Perhaps they hadn't done it nicely, but they had looked after him. He had to be in perfect shape to be their optimum weapon. Stark had good people though. He'd gotten hurt a few times since he started wearing the suit. She'd even taken a knock or two and gotten patched up in the tower. But would Barnes trust them enough to let them help?

There was a gurney waiting for them on the roof. She recognized Dr. Cho, who had two nurses with her. It seemed to take a long time for Tony to set down, but it was probably only a few seconds. Barnes's eyes weren't focused, until the door opened and the gurney was outside. They went wide.

Natasha unhooked her seat belt and leaned toward him. "You're hurt. They are only here to help."

"She's right," Steve said, as he unbuckled himself and Barnes. "I won't let anyone hurt you. You're my friend."

Barnes tried to climb out of his own accord but he gasped and doubled over. Natasha got out and told the medical staff not to touch him without telling him exactly what they were going to do.

Steve supported Barnes and they made it out, but Barnes was hesitant to get on the gurney. Did he remember past gurneys or was there just a hint of danger that lead to a fear he couldn't name?

Finally, Steve coaxed him to sit on the gurney. Barnes refused to lay back, even when the head was raised for him or when the gurney began to move. They went straight to the med bay. Dr. Cho approached Barnes with a tablet and he eyed it suspiciously.

"Scan me first," Steve offered. "It won't hurt a bit."

The doctor did as suggested, and JARVIS started rattling off Steve's vitals and cataloguing his healing wounds. Tony leaned close to Natasha's ear. "The Bionic Man cause all that?"

"See? Nothin' to it."

Barnes allowed the scanner. His vitals were very different from Steve's but that was expected. JARVIS noted his healing humerus, two cracked but healing ribs, and a ruptured spleen.

"We'll need to anesthetize you," Dr. Cho told Barnes. His eyes told Natasha he wasn't up for that. There were a lot of people here that he didn't know.

Natasha looked behind him to where a nurse was preparing a syringe. She gave the nurse a wink then moved closer to the gurney. She purposely moved her shoulder, then called out as if she was in great pain. She slapped her right hand onto the wound and squeezed.

As she hoped, everyone turned their attention to her, including Barnes. Everyone but the nurse. Barnes didn't see the syringe being placed to his neck. He felt it though. Very quickly, his left hand reached back and snagged her wrist.

Now everyone was watching the nurse as she grimaced. But a few seconds later, she relaxed. The metal arm started to loosen and then dropped. The nurse retrieved the syringe with her other hand, and Dr. Cho and the other nurse positioned Barnes on the gurney.

"Tricking him isn't a great way to build trust," Steve reminded her.

"Trust can come after we save his life," she replied. Then the nurse who had jabbed him ushered them all into the lab beyond.

"We'll get a good scan of his noggin' when he's in recovery," Tony said. "I want a look at that arm, too."

Steve moved closer to Tony. "He's not a lab rat."

"Not anymore, you mean?" Tony shot back. "We need to see if he's got permanent damage. As for the arm, JARVIS, how much does that thing weigh?"

"I can't be certain without a full scan," the AI replied, "but I estimate twenty-eight pounds."

"That's a very heavy arm," Tony argued. "Gotta put some strain on one side, possible imbalance. That could affect his spine long-term. Hydra didn't care about that sort of thing. I do."

Steve backed off but wasn't fully convinced. "You want to know how it works."

"Of course, I want to know how it works!" Tony tossed an image into the air and a video of Barnes grabbing the nurse began to play. "He doesn't have to think about moving that arm any more than you or I do. It's intrinsic. Neural integration and that was done in the forties!"

"Correction," JARVIS stated, "while there are elements that appear to be original, the majority of the arm seems to be at least a decade more recent."

"Isaiah Bradly," Natasha remembered. When Steve shook his head, she added, "African American super soldier in the fifties. Tore half the arm off."

Steve's eyes went wide. "Another super soldier?"

"Seems so," Tony said. "I'm more concerned though, with the five doses of super serum your buddy stole from my parents when he killed them."

Steve spun around. "It was him?"

Tony sighed. "Just one of many missions Hydra gave him. Or did you think DC was his first rodeo?"

Steve got in his face again. "What's your angle really, Tony?"

Natasha put herself between them. "Just what he said, Steve. He knows what they did to him. He knows he was brainwashed, programmed."

"I do," Tony agreed, speaking softer now. "And I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I'm not angry at him. I'm kind of angry at my dad for making that serum. That's what they wanted. My parents were just in the way."

Steve sighed and backed away again.

"Five doses," Natasha told him. "Gave them to a Hydra kill squad."

Steve closed his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "That can't be good. Erskine told me the serum makes you more of who you are. Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse."

Natasha wondered what that meant for Barnes. He hadn't known who he was when they forced the serum on him. He hadn't assassinated anyone yet, though. Maybe he was still a good man then.

"We're gonna need all hands on deck when we find 'em," Tony said.

Steve shook his head. "I'm supposed to take it easy for a few days. He shot Natasha."

"Well, we have to find them first," Tony concluded. "Siberia isn't just a dot on a map. Could be your boy's met them or knows where they're kept. Only he can't remember much."

Cap went to the window that looked back into the med bay. He put his hand on it then his forehead. Natasha joined him there. "He survived the fall. He'll survive this."

"I barely had time to mourn his death," he admitted. "He was more than my friend. He was my brother, the only family I had after my mom died. But there was a war on. Red Skull had to be stopped. Then I ended up in the ice. When I woke up it was decades later, but it had still been only a few weeks for me. Then when I recognized him in the street, I felt like it was worse than him having died. Because he never would have joined them willingly. He was stuck in a nightmare that whole time and he didn't even know it. I hadn't known it."

She put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure if you had, you would've moved heaven and hell to get him back. Just like you did. You woke him from that nightmare."

Steve sighed. "Have I? Tony's right. He's gonna be a mess. Right now, that programming is still protecting him, hiding his memories and dulling his emotions."

Natasha leaned her head on his shoulder. "The difference is, this time, he'll have his brother to help him through it."


Steve sat by Bucky's bed. The doctor said the rupture was sealed and he was already healing. But they were keeping him in a deep sleep while the IVs were still in. Tony had suggested that IVs might trigger a flashback. Bucky might wake up, see the IV, and think he was back at Hydra.

Steve wished there was a way to erase all that, to go back in time and make sure he never fell from the train. Then they could have both been in Red Skull's plane. They might not have had to ditch it in the arctic. Then he could be with Peggy and have his best friend with him.

Stark had given him a brief run-down of Bucky's treatment in Hydra's hands, and of his missions. He'd been broken in the fall. Both legs, ribs, even his back. His left arm had been severed approximately five inches from the shoulder. He was found by Soviet soldiers, and though the Soviets were allies, they had taken him to a Hydra facility. Hydra put him into cryostasis and shipped him to Siberia.

A few months after the end of war, Zola sent the Siberian facility plans for the arm. While they built it to his specifications, Zola ingratiated himself with the SSR. Once he was free to travel, he went secretly to Siberia. Bucky was thawed out. They pinned him back together, amputated the rest of his arm and installed the first cybernetic one. During this surgery, they had issues keeping him under so he was semi-conscious at best. At one point, he even woke up enough to choke one of the doctors with that arm. After that, he was put in a room to heal. He wasn't really spoken to or really cared for. He was fed through an IV and a feeding tube. Hydra took blood samples and injected him with various concoctions, none of which lessened his pain.

He healed faster than most. Zola credited his earlier work for Bucky's survival and his accelerated healing. As he healed physically, they started talking to him, telling him the war was over but the US had lost, that they'd tried to repatriate him but America didn't him back. They even went so far as to send a letter to Steve Rogers at his Brooklyn address, wanting to make arrangements to send Bucky home. After a few weeks, they gave him the two-word response: Keep him.

It particularly angered Steve that they'd try and use him against Bucky that way. Of course, they never sent the letter, and they absolutely didn't get that response because he'd never say that and he was in the ice by that time.

From there, it was 'Brainwashing 101,' according to Stark. Inadequate food and water and sleep deprivation. They manipulated time, shortening cycles of darkness and creating inconsistent daylight cycles. All of which eventually led to physical weakness and delirium.

Re-education followed. He was taught Russian and forced to ask for his daily needs. He was given orders and punished if he didn't comply perfectly. Then he spent another stent in cryostasis as Zola needed to be back at S.H.I.E.L.D. When they removed him nearly a year later, they used the electroconvulsive 'therapy' to speed the brainwashing by erasing his memories. They got him marginally healthy again then completed the super soldier conversion in a seven-hour procedure that had been so painful he'd coded from shock and had to be resuscitated. They intubated him and carried on.

Steve remembered his conversion. The serum was uncomfortable. It made him feel strange and squishy, like his insides were rearranging. The vita radiation after was nearly unbearable. But he'd held on, and it was over in a few minutes. It was nowhere near seven hours.

Bucky had attacked several people the next morning, throwing heavy weights at their heads with enough force to smash their skulls and kill them. So he was given another electroconvulsive treatment. Rendered pliable, he was trained in various forms of combat. Even still, he hesitated to kill other prisoners.

So they brought in a guy Peggy had had to deal with when she worked for the SSR. An extraordinary hypnotist who, at first, portrayed himself as Dr. Ivchenko, a victim of the criminal organization, Leviathan. They eventually learned he was the mastermind, but not before he had forced, through hypnosis, the death of one agent and orchestrated the death of the New York bureau chief. His real name was Johann Fennhoff, and he'd once shared a cell with Arnim Zola. Fennhoff programmed Bucky with ten code words that turned him from a super soldier with no memory into the fearless, merciless Winter Soldier. Or the "Enhanced Manpower Asset," as they referred to him. Stark had pointed out that their User's Guide referred to him as an 'it.'

After that, a pattern emerged. He was removed from cryostasis, given electroconvulsive treatment, the words, and a mission. When he returned from the mission, he was returned to cryostasis. The only deviations from this pattern occurred when he needed further training or language acquisition to carry out a mission. Some highlights of his missions included President John F. Kennedy in '63 and Stark's parents in '91.

Fennhoff was terminally ill with cancer and euthanized, at his request, after the first successful Winter Soldier mission in November 1949. Zola's body died in '72, though his computerized mind continued until 2014. He had advised Pierce to use the Winter Soldier publicly to ensure Insight's success. Thereafter, the Enhanced Manpower Asset would be irrelevant as there would be no opposition. 'It' was to be terminated.

Steve lifted Bucky's right hand and held it, just as he had the night after the Austrian factory had been liberated. Once free, Bucky's adrenaline had given out, and he'd nearly passed out from exhaustion. He was very sick for the next two days, riding in one of the trucks with the rest of the injured. During that time, whenever Steve had visited, Bucky had reached out to touch his arm or hand. He'd admitted to not being sure if he was real or just another hallucination. He'd apparently had a lot of those during his time in Zola's lab.

The world had changed so much since then. For Steve, it had been a shock to his system. He'd left the war and Peggy in 1945 and returned to an alien invasion of New York in 2012. The war was over, the economy booming, technology advancing at a dizzying rate. Television had become a staple in every household. The internet contained more information than a thousand libraries, though not all of it was true. Still, it was searchable, making it easier than ever to learn about the world. Peggy in the SSR had led to Peggy founding S.H.I.E.L.D with Stark and Hydra's infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D, which led to the destruction of both a few days ago.

It was a whirlwind and really, this was one of the few times Steve had found to just sit quietly and process all of that and all he'd lost.

Bucky had seen some of those changes, from his limited scope, as each mission put him back in the world. But his mind was overcome. He wasn't allowed the capacity of processing everything that had happened to him, everything he'd done or had taken from him.

He felt a light squeeze as Bucky's fingers folded around his. But when he looked at his face, Bucky was still asleep. He seemed peaceful. At this moment, he was free and ignorant of most of the torture he'd been subjected to, or the rain of death he'd inflicted on others. Maybe he was better off if he didn't remember any more than he did right now.

But then he was also ignorant of his life before the war, his parents and three younger sisters. He barely had a few memories of his friendship with Steve. He was missing most of his life. And that really wasn't a way to live and be truly happy.

Steve felt a touch on his shoulder and looked up to see Dr. Cho. "It's late. You should get some rest. He'll be out for at least the next eight to twelve hours."

Steve nodded and looked at his phone. Nearly midnight, and Sam had texted him three times. Steve released Bucky's hand and set it gently on the mattress. "See you in the morning," he whispered, patting Bucky's shoulder.

He stood and started for the suite Tony had set aside for him. It was like having a luxury apartment with a 40's theme. Steve sat on the sofa and dialed Sam's number.

"Finally! How is he?"

"Asleep," Steve replied. "Ruptured spleen. Could have started in the helicarrier but it clotted over. His rush to keep out of Tony's sight opened it up again."

"That would be why the doctor wanted you to take things easy, too," Sam reminded him. "You might heal fast but doing too much too soon could undo some of that healing before it's done. Stark's probably got enough security to keep him out of the spotlight, right? You two gonna stay there?"

"For now," Steve agreed. "I think you're the only one of us who still has a job. Tony's offered me a small apartment here at no charge. Kind of gotta take him up on it."

"I understand, man. Look, if you need to talk about feelings and such, I'm here for you. Finding out about all of his trauma is going to traumatize you, too. I know you World War II vets weren't into therapy and all that, but it really didn't do those guys any favors holding it in. We've learned a lot since then about what trauma does to the mind, the brain, the body. Lots of vets get into alcohol or drugs to bury that stuff, or they take it out on their friends and family. Or themselves. But even if you don't do any of that, it can eat you up inside. It doesn't have to be me, but talk to someone. You'll probably be Bucky's someone, so you'll need an outlet."

Steve shook his head. He wanted to argue that he could handle it but Sam had negated his arguments before he'd had a chance. He had learned that what was called Shell Shock in the First World War was really Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The men who had it weren't weak or cowards as was thought. "I think I already did. It's late though. Maybe we can talk more tomorrow?"

"You got it. I'll be home around seven."

"Sounds good. Goodnight, Sam."

"Night, Steve."

Steve hung up then headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. There was one thing he really liked about his apartment. Tony had put in a second bed.


Tony Stark was engrossed. The arm was a work of genius, though he hated to credit that Nazi Hydra so-called doctor with anything genius. He could've expected something like this from his dad in the 40's, but Hydra? Or S.H.I.E.L.D, he supposed, if that's who they were then. Dr. Armin Zola. Sneaky bastard who pretended to be reformed all the while he was torturing and experimenting on a US POW. An injured POW at that. But he'd been all too happy to find the fallen GI was his old subject 37786.

But putting all that aside, the arm was amazing. It responded to the same impulses as a flesh and blood arm would. It appeared to have circuits connected to real human nerves in the shoulder joint, so it couldn't be easily replaced. Scarring around the shoulder attested to the cruelty of its installation. It was fused to the flesh of his chest.

It was strong, too. Natasha had told him he'd put a one-inch deep dent in a concrete wall at the dam, and he wasn't even angry at the time. That meant, he could punch with the force of a jackhammer.

Tony pulled up video recordings of the fight on the street. Several news outlets had had choppers in the air with an overhead view, while dozens of bystanders had recorded it with their phones. It was brutal and fast. The guy was loaded with weapons. Even after he'd run out of bullets in three different guns, he pulled, not one, but two knives on different occasions. He matched Steve's toe-to-toe but that arm gave him a strength advantage. He was able to push one of the knives through the side of a van and pull it the length of said van in the hopes of cutting Steve's neck.

It also had the durability to withstand bullets fired at close range. He even shrugged off one of Natasha's taser discs after a moment's paralysis. Cap's vibranium shield, on the other hand, had cut right into it. Tony's scans had verified the outer plates consisted of a titanium alloy.

Stark didn't see any imbalance in his stance due to the weight of the arm. JARVIS noted no curvature of the spine. Maybe he'd just grown accustomed to the weight of it. Or, since they routinely wiped his memory, maybe he just knew it as his arm, plain and simple.

The fingers, though, ended rather bluntly, unlike natural fingers. Tony was certain he could improve on that at least. But even if he designed a better, lighter arm, replacing it wouldn't be easy. He'd need a surgeon, not just an engineer. And Barnes was probably not psychologically ready for that anyway. Tony made some notes and filed it away for a future project.

The other scan he took, of Barnes's sleeping brain, he'd sent off to a neurologist he trusted for analysis. He'd given Dr. Salazar only the barest of background information: numerous electroconvulsive treatments over several decades. There was nothing to do with that now other than wait.

Tony spent another half hour looking for the other Winter Soldiers then called it a night. Barnes would be awake tomorrow, and then things were going to get real.


Author's notes:

1) Sorry for the info dump again but want to quickly outline what they know of Bucky's treatment. If you're interetested, a lot of this is in my The Making of the Winter Soldier series of short stories. These include The Asset, The Next Stage, Strong, and His Greatest Achievement.

2) Enhanced Manpower Asset User Guide. That is a podfic I found on AO3: https: slash slash archiveofourown dot org slash works slash 2855174. I have referenced it with the author's permission. Listen to it. It's chilling. But note, it was posted in 2014, before CA:CW. So it's missing two canonical things that I noticed: Romanian being one of his languages, and the code words.

3) Technical specifications of the arm are subject to change should I get some engineering help from some expert.