Chapter 2: The Other Man

Summary: The Winter Soldier is used to losing time...

1975

Soyuz 18 had gone down. The embarrassment would be enormous, if it was discovered, and the Red Room had a man who could keep a secret on ice. The capsule had gone down in Aleysk, they told him, or maybe over the border into China. Bring the cosmonauts home, Soldier, and give us the location of the capsule. It could not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. The Soldier thought it wouldn't take very long to find them but as he walked two figures appeared in the snow. They were not the cosmonauts.

One was an older woman, the other black man. The woman said, "James, you should come in from the cold."

James drew in a shuddering breath. He was kneeling in the snow and Peggy was at his side, pulling at his good arm. "Come on, on your feet. I'm too old to be kneeling in the snow."

He slipped his arm around her shoulder and made himself stand. "Give me a minute."

"This is Sergeant Marcus Johnson. I've stolen him from the Army." Peggy was getting too old for field work, he could tell just by watching her walk. "I'm training him for SHIELD."

He didn't need it to stay upright, but he kept his arm linked to Peggy's. It felt good, to touch someone. "Sir."

Marcus didn't look impressed at seeing the infamous Winter Soldier face to face, he just looked cold. They had come up to a small cabin. "Inside, before us normal humans freeze to death."

"How long?" The memories would sort themselves out, as he talked about it, but he always asked. His sense of time was always off-kilter these days.

"Eighteen months, but you've been on ice about half that time." There was a fire going in the stove and Marcus picked up a metal kettle from the stovetop and poured James a cup of truly terrible coffee. "What are you doing out here? Who is there to execute in Siberia?"

James took a sip and tried to get things in order. "No target. Search and rescue. We had a capsule crash. Can we do this in less than a day? If we take much longer, they'll die."

"We'll hurry." Peggy pulled her gloves off and warmed her hands over the fire. Her knuckles were swollen.

"Gimme your hands." She sat down next to him and James took her hand and started rubbing her fingers. Arthritis, probably, Peggy had to be over fifty now. He was just making conversation when he asked, "Where's Howard?" but Peggy suddenly became interested in the fire.

"He couldn't come. He had business obligations."

Her hands were like ice and if he'd thought her interest in the fire was real he would have let it go but James wasn't buying it. "Bullshit. That wouldn't keep him away if he wanted to be here."

Peggy sighed and leaned into him. It suddenly occurred to James that this probably looked really inappropriate to her protégé. "Alright, then. Unvarnished truth is, Howard has gone a bit off the deep end. We thought we were searching for Steve's body but when you described the hibernation process to him... Howard has become convinced that Steve is alive, and he's taken to personally going on the expeditions that are searching for the plane."

"Do you believe that?" On the surface it was ridiculous but he spent half his time frozen these days so who knew?

"Do I believe that Steve Rogers could physically survive decades in the ice? Yes, you seem to manage it and the transformation process used on you was much less powerful." She pressed her lips to his forhead, less a kiss and more of an apology. "But will what Howard fishes out of the ice still be Steve?"

It was worse, somehow, imagining him alone in the ice instead of dead and James shoved the thought away. It was better if he was dead.

"If you two are done?" Marcus had finished his coffee and he was watching them, amused.

"Don't make assumption, Marcus." She kissed him again, this time on the top of the head and opened up a case on the table. There was a reel to reel recorder inside. "James, there was a train derailment last year. We don't believe it was an accident. What can you tell us about that?"

1985

His assignment had brought him to Paris and she'd been waiting for him in the stairwell after he'd made his kill. The hotel was nicer than most of the places he'd been debriefed and he was laid out on a nice bed as Erik worked, even if he couldn't sleep.

Erik ran his finger down the side of James' arm and the metal parted like a zipper for him. "You've been upgraded. I'd love to know where they're getting this technology."

Peggy leaned over Erik's shoulder. "Make sure to take photos for Howard. Assuming I can get an appointment with the man, he'll want to see this."

"You're the Director." Erik took his responsibilities very seriously. He didn't think much of Howard's absences. "He's the one who should need an appointment."

"Peggy, stop looking at my insides." He didn't mind Erik seeing, but he didn't want Peggy to be reminded he was something less than human. Every time he saw her, she had visibly aged and he stayed the same. "Are you going to chase after me forever, Peggy?"

"As long as I can." She touched the mattress next to him. "May I sit?"

"What's mine is yours, you know that." He'd given her Steve, what was a few inches of bed space? "And in a few years, when you can't come after me anymore, what happens then? Can you find someone else?"

"I'll try. Charles was as exact as he could be, given my regrettable tendency to age." She slid her fingers between his on his human hand and gave them a squeeze. "It would have to be a mutant, someone who could mimic me very closely."

"I don't want to do this anymore." The Winter Soldier had too much blood on his hands for James to stand much longer. If he'd been able to sleep, James was sure he'd dream of the children he'd killed. "Please, Peggy."

"I'll put in a request." She was his friend but she was also the Director of SHIELD and James knew it was bullshit. Maybe her replacement would be a softer touch. Her eyes were starting to drift shut and she yawned. "I'm sorry, James. I didn't get any sleep on the plane."

"You can lay down. It's a big bed." He wasn't expecting her to take him up on it, but it was just Erik here with them so she toed off her shoes and stretched out next to him.

She was telling him some story about Howard's son when she drifted off. James was almost relieved not to have to make small talk anymore, her dismissal of his request still leaving a bitter taste.

"I won't let them." Erik hadn't spoken in almost an hour but it wasn't like James could forget he was there with him wrists deep in James' arm. "I think my debt is long paid. I was experimented on, in the camps. That's what the Commandos rescued me from."

"Erik, you don't have to tell me." He'd suspected, of course, he'd known Erik was Jewish, seen the tattoo but he never talked about it.

"It's alright." Erik drew his hands back and the arm sealed up with no hint he'd been messing around inside it for the past few hours. "When I agreed to do this, it was something you wanted. If it's not anymore, I won't leave you like this. After the Director is dead, we'll come for you. I already have someone in mind to help me."

"And then what? It's never permanent, Erik." Eventually, he would have to sleep and the Soldier was always the one who woke up.

"And then, I'll remove the chip." Erik said it like he was offering to buy James a drink but he knew what it meant, they both did.

Serum or no serum, there was no way James would survive that. He was offering him an out. "Thank you."

1989

They were losing Berlin, but there was no one to shoot, no one to stop. The Soldier stood on the balcony of the hotel room anyway, looking through a telescopic lens at the crowd.

The Black Widow was standing in the doorway, watching him. He thought he'd trained her, she knew a few too many of his tricks, but he couldn't be sure. Either way, she'd been a good partner this past year, even if she asked too many questions, like he was one of her marks. "Do you feel cold?"

He wasn't ashamed to admit he'd become a little obsessed with her. She was beautiful and powerful, the Infinity Serum pumping through her veins and her hair was red. He liked red hair, on a woman. It just seemed right, he wasn't sure why. He touched her hair, without really knowing why he wanted to. "No, I don't feel the cold. I don't really feel anything."

"I could make you feel something." The Widows were programmed for seduction and she'd been lobbing passes at him for their last three missions. There was no real reason to say no but he hadn't figure out what she wanted yet. She pressed her body against him. "Come in from the cold and I'll show you."

It wasn't just the words, Charles would never have been so careless, it was her hair and maybe the way she smelled. Either way, the switch flipped and James was suddenly kneeling on the floor of the balcony and the Soldier was out cold.

The Black Widow had taken a step back and drawn a gun. It was pointed at his head. "I seem to have triggered something. Are you programmed to kill pretty girls who want to warm you up?"

"No, it's not a kill order." James was surprised to find he was . panting for breath and he made himself suck in a few deep breaths and tried to get his thoughts in order. After a moment, the disorientation went away. It was 1989, he was in West Germany and the Black Widow had triggered his sleeper switch in the middle of what was shaping up to be a populist revolution. "I'm fine. I just need to report in."

"Let me help you." She got him to his feet and helped him walk inside. She let him drop onto the mattress. "Here." She gave him the handset and put her finger on the rotary dial. "Tell me the number."

"No, they wouldn't like that." He hooked his finger into the dial, trying to remember the number that worked in Berlin. "Get me some water."

The number rang once and then it was hijacked to call a SHIELD switchboard. James didn't give whoever answered time to speak. "I'm awake. There isn't much time, do you have someone in West Berlin?"

"I've got a man there." The voice was familiar. Peggy's shadow, Marcus. Good, he could be counted on.

"There's a complication." The bathroom door opened and she had a glass in her hand. "I'm not alone."

"Understood." There was only the sound of the dial tone after that.

She set the water glass down on the nightstand. "What did I trigger?"

"I'm not sure. They're coming for me."

She tried to slide into his lap and he flinched. "I see." They sat next to each other in awkward silence until there was a knock on the door.

"I need you to leave."

"Fine." She pushed past the unassuming man on the other side of the door without even looking at him.

"Guten Abend." The man was carrying a briefcase and he set it down on the table. There was a tape recorder inside, which was familiar at least although James thought it had gotten smaller again. "Do you need to know my name?"

"No, it's not important." Marcus would only have sent someone he trusted. "All I want to know about is Director Carter."

"The Director retired last year. Heart attack. It didn't kill her but she isn't up to traipsing after you anymore. I'm sorry." He did actually look sorry, which was something. "We're seeking alternatives to keep in contact with you but nothing has worked out so far." He flipped the recorder on. "Tell me how you work up, Sargent."

"It was an accident. Not something we should count on being able to repeat." He didn't want to ask about the favor he'd asked Peggy, but it turned out he didn't have to.

"I'm not authorized to kill you. SHIELD believes it may be possible to wake you up again someday." There was a moment's hesitation and then he said, "I believe we'll be able to wake you up again someday."

By the time the Black Widow came back, the Soldier was alone in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, pressing fingers to his temple. She opened the bag she'd gotten at the drug store and took out a bottle of aspirin. Retrieving the untouched glass of water, she joined him on the bed. "Feeling better?"

He touched her hair again. It still drew his attention. "I told you I don't feel anything. But you're welcome to try."

1991

It was almost Christmas and their world was falling apart. The Widow was sitting on the couch, knees curled to her chest, watching the TV with a hateful expression. "Gorbachev has let everything slip through his fingers."

It was getting too hot to stay here. Several of their comrades had been executed, some by their own handlers. All the Red Room's experiments were being swept under the rug, before the eyes and judgment of the West could fall on them.

"He will resign. Soon. Then the union will crumble."

"Let's leave." The Soldier knew she was under less direct control than he was, her work demanded it. She still had her mind and a personality, even if it wasn't the one she'd been born with. "Let's just go, before it all falls apart. We were programmed for survival. Staying here is suicide."

"Where would we go?" He felt something stir in his brain. A failsafe, maybe. They shouldn't be talking about this.

"The US." She turned off the TV and climbed into his lap. "Come with me. Please."

"I…" No, he couldn't leave. He couldn't let her leave, either.

"When I triggered you, that night in Berlin, the other man, he had more freedom. I could do it again, and you could come with me."

He couldn't remember what she was talking about. "The other man?"

She drew back, her face suddenly closed off. There were many personalities knocking around in the Widow's head, but the Soldier thought he was alone in his own head. Not that the Room would have told him, if they thought he didn't need to know. She pressed her lips to his ear. He could see her hair out of the corner of his eye as she whispered, "Come in from the cold."

It was the first time James had ever come to sitting down but it didn't turn out to be any less disorienting. There was a woman in his lap and after a few seconds he was able to identify her as a Black Widow. She was smart, deadly and she had been the Soldier's lover for the past three years. "Hello."

"Hello." She smiled at him, and it was a trusting smile. She thought she knew him. It was an absolute certainty that if they didn't run she would be dead before the end of the year. Too much had been done to her in the name of the State for the Red Room to allow her to live. "I assume you're packed for this fiasco. Let's go."

She slid off the couch and grabbed a bag from under the bed. "Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter." James thought of Steve, dropping behind enemy lines to find him. The Widow was a Soviet weapon but she'd been his partner. They'd protected each other, bled for each other. He owed her for that and she was probably the last person alive he had a debt to. "I can get you out of the USSR. That's all that matters."

James took her as far as the Chinese border. He hadn't slept in three days, drank coffee and taken stims to stay awake because if he slept the Soldier would wake up. It was the longest stretch of time he'd had in control of his own body in decades, the first time he'd shaved his own face since the day they'd ziplined onto the train. It had been Steve standing behind him then. Now, it was only this woman. "You're going to have to go on alone. Leave me here."

"You're not coming?" He ran water in the sink, washing away the foam from the shaving cream, cleaned his blade. The Widow grabbed his wrist. "Why? We're almost there."

"Because I need sleep." He pulled his hands free from hers. "When this body wakes up, I'll be gone and the Soldier will be back. He will kill you, because he has no choice. You need to go, right now."

"They'll kill you."

"Maybe. Probably." Almost certainly. She was beautiful. It would be dangerous, but he could go with her. She would have to trigger him every morning and maybe one day it wouldn't work but he could tell her everything and go with her. But he wouldn't. He was tired. He wanted to be with Steve again.

The Widow darted forward and kissed him. It felt familiar but he didn't respond. She pulled back with a sigh. "I suppose you're too smart for that." She touched his face and told him, "If you survive, find me. I don't like debt. Wherever I am, find me."

He'd be dead within a week, won't even have to man up and do it himself, but he was a good liar. "I will."

2013

The blind was on a rooftop and the Soldier got into position, his scope giving him a clear view into the windows of the embassy. The target wasn't in his room but the Soldier was patient, he could wait. He was good at waiting.

Someone taped his shoulder and it was a testament to his training that the Soldier didn't jerk, didn't swivel the gun, he just slid back a bit and looked up.

It was the target, wearing a nice suit and an irritated expression. "You do realize this embassy is sovereign Latverian territory. Your presence here could be considered an act of war, against whatever government you work for."

The Soldier reached for his blade, but the target was faster, grabbing him by the throat. "I have no home, no family. I have been exiled here, to suffer the justice of the King, and yet you pursue me still. Why?"

The Soldier choked out, "Murderer," and the target laughs.

"Yes, and what are you, then? How many people have you killed?" The target gave him a shove so hard the Soldier fell over backwards. Before he could roll to his knees, the target put a boot on his chest. "Who do you work for?"

The Soldier didn't answer. He may have outlived his usefulness, when he'd let the Widow slip his grasp and he would probably die on this roof but it was warm here, summer just setting in. He wouldn't have to go back in the ice.

The boot was replaced by a knee and suddenly the target's face was a lot closer. "Are you aware you're under an incredible amount of mind control? It's actually quite impressive." The man was exerting a pressure disproportionate to his size and the Soldier's chest started to hurt. "Do you know who I am? Did they tell you?"

The Soldier shook his head no. All he had was a photo and an address. It was all he thought he'd need.

The man's fingers pressed against the Soldier's forehead. "They call me the Liesmith, but the truth is Odin is the real liar. My very shape is a lie and so is yours. There is something in your head. I'm going to take it out."

The man's fingers weren't just pressing against his forehead, they're pressing in and it hurt, it hurt. There was a screaming order in the Soldier's brain, to self-terminate before he was fully compromised but the target had him pinned somehow and his hand was reaching INSIDE your head and -

There was a moment of searing pain, and James Barnes found himself pinned to the ground by a good looking man. Not the man he was normally pinned by but since he couldn't remember where he was or how he got there, it's going to have to wait. "What is that?" The man was holding something in his hand. Whatever it was, it gleamed with some kind of fluid.

"I took it out of your head. It's been in there for a long time. A mortal lifetime, at least." The man rolled to his feet and slipped the thing into James' pocket. "Give it a moment. You'll remember."

The worst part is, he's right. It all came crashing back, like it always did. The fall, the cold, the Red Room, his arm. James manages to get to his knees before he started throwing up. When he looked up, the man was holding a clear bottle. It was water, cold and clean. "Do you have anywhere to go? Anyone you can trust?"

James had been on ice since that Christmas he'd snuck the Black Widow out of the Soviet Union. James realized he didn't know her name, if she had known it herself. "What year is it?"

"2013."

More than twenty years. Peggy was probably dead, Howard too but Marcus could still be alive. Of course, all the numbers he knew were twenty years old but it was worth a shot. "I need a phone." The man slipped a cellphone out of his pocket and handed it to James. It looked like something out a science fiction pulp comic, not like a phone at all. "Why are you helping me? Why not kill me?"

"I could tell you a story, about lying to children and mistakes and falling and betrayal. But really, I think it will be hilarious." The man was smiling and there was something… off about it. "When you tell Fury that Loki saved your life, please, take a photo. Keep the phone, I can access the photos remotely and I may want to talk later."

The man had a weird vibe but the Red Room wanted him dead so he can't be all bad. James punched in the first phone number he could remember and listened to it ring. After a few long moments, someone picked up. "Fury."

Who the hell was Fury? "This is James Barnes. I'm awake."

"Barnes?" It was Marcus. He'd always had a taste for dramatics. "Barnes, where the hell are you?"

"I'm on a roof in Manhattan." James looked back, but the target, Loki he had called himself, was gone. "Can someone come get me?"

Notes: For my random ramblings, reblogs, and ficlets please find me on tumblr as roguewrld