Aghh. I was trying not to give any spoilers on this fellow yet. Apollo isn't Marvel, nor is he the actual God. Basically, he's such an egomaniac that he makes Tony look humble. He only thinks he's a god, and there's a very legitimate, non-godly reason that bullets bounce off of him. XD As for the woman, she's another can of worms tied to something I've got planned later. I'm glad everyone's cool with Tony, cause I was worried about making him the voice of reason in that chap, but someone had to be. XD And don't worry, the Winter Soldier will be back in his true body eventually, and do some things that I'm sure you will all love. And hate. And angst over. I hope. I'm excited. XD Thank you for the reviews, I cannot put into words how happy they make me. I was grinning at work. XD Enjoy!~
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The two months following Hydra and Shield's respective dissolutions had been a flurry of pain, twisted memories, and violence for the Winter Soldier. Hydra operatives seemed keen on catching up with him, despite the fact that the Winter Soldier tore their units apart every time. And in the 'quiet' moments, the Winter Soldier secluded himself in whatever area he'd wandered into as he put himself at the mercy of the shattered glass that was his mind. Memories assailed him, choppy things, some which he acknowledged as his own and ones that may as well have been from a stranger. Strange pains crushed his chest, and he found that he needed to make himself occasionally eat and sleep or he would end up weakened, even as a super-soldier. And through it all, other than his dreams of torture and death, only thing haunted his vision, the face of his mission: Captain America. The one mission he hadn't completed.
Winter had been living in the forest for several weeks when Hydra caught up to him, and he'd seen the unexpected face of his enemy. The next thing he knew, he was locked up while his mission rambled off nonsense. Nothing the man said made sense, it only increased the pain in his head, the strange, broken fragments of memories he couldn't believe were his own. Things were simpler when his thoughts revolved around his missions, before Steven Rogers had entered his life. There were also Anthony Stark, who Winter found intolerable, and Bruce Banner for whom he had no opinion towards. It wasn't for a weapon to have an opinion. His dislike of Stark stemmed purely from the other's attempt to control him [and his attitude, although Winter couldn't see it as such].
And yet, Winter couldn't deny that something was off and he had gone to that museum. There he'd been faced with a man who was his twin. But the man described was nothing like him. It spoke of loyalty and devotion, of self-sacrifice and a great heart, of humor and a childhood bond with Captain America. The only thing that remotely made sense was loyalty, but the way it was described seemed unnecessarily sentimental. You gave your 'loyalty' to the one who gave you your missions, to the one who created you. It was just that simple.
Winter had nearly escaped the unsettling madness of Stark Tower, only to be recaptured and find himself in a state worse than he might have imagined. His body had been regressed, he'd lost his metal limb and ability, his super-soldier status was lost to him. Winter could think of no culprit besides those that had trapped him, but when he'd listened to Captain America's assurances that he hadn't done it, Winter was inclined to believe him. He had been trained to discern truth from lies for when he was used as a torture interrogater, which was rarer than his true missions but happened from time to time. But that did not explain how he had ended up in the smaller form, or the strange clarity to his head. Even before Captain America had caused him to...question...his head had never felt quite so clear. His other organs, however, were less fortunate. His heart seemed to constantly hurt and ache, particularly in Captain America's proximity.
And he spoke such nonsense about the value of lives, trying to convince Winter that he wasn't a weapon, speaking of friendship and not hurting himself as though it somehow influenced the captain. He made expressions that Winter couldn't decipher, and spoke so...gently. He was used to cold orders or the pathetic tones of his targets.
And yet, when the captain held out his hand with apparent concern for Winter [which made no sense at all], he found that his hand seemed to reach towards it heedless of his own will. There was that voice in his head, the one that urged him to do so. But before anything could come of it, Anthony Stark had drugged him. And that, he reasoned, was how he'd ended up in yet another room without his knowledge.
...
Bucky stood at the edge and looked down into the gaping abyss below. One step, and he could end everything...
Winter awoke to find himself tucked into yet another bed, although this time it seemed to be in an actual bedroom and not a cell of any kind. The bed made him uncomfortable, it was too soft and too unlike his familiar, tight-fitted sleep cylinder. And, as he'd now come to expect, there was Captain America with another strange expression.
"Are you alright, Buck? You were having another nightmare."
Winter had no idea what he was talking about, and he drew himself up quickly to pull away from the captain as he tried to get his bearings. The room was opulent but simple in layout, one door and one window. The captain was between Winter and the door, and he suspected that the floor was too high to jump from-especially given his condition. The air ventilation system would be too small, even in his current body.
"Bucky...Buck?"
Winter's eyes swiveled back to the captain as he realized the other had been addressing him the whole time. "That's not my name." he said with finality, and though he couldn't name it as such, a flicker of annoyance coursed through him as he found himself having to explain that simple fact again. And there went another strange expression...
"Then what am I supposed to call you?" The man's tone was exasperated, and Winter was familiar with that tone because his targets tended to be exasperated until he finished them.
"Nothing, because I shouldn't be here. If you don't plan on killing me, then release me."
That strange expression again, and then. "B-...Look...no one is going to kill you, that's not an option. But until you're...until you're better, you can't just run wild. It's dangerous, for you and for others."
Winter's eyes narrowed. "Dangerous for me how?"
The captain presented him with a surprised expression, and Winter couldn't see what might have been the cause, but then the captain sighed and spoke bluntly. "You were hurting yourself. Bru-...Dr. Banner said it looked like you'd been slamming your head and hands into...walls?" It was almost a question, and Winter supposed that was to allow for the fact he may have been slamming it into another surface. "You were malnourished and dehydrated, and sleep deprived to boot. You don't...you aren't taking care of yourself."
"I'm fine, Buck. It's just a cold." Steve sniffed as his nose ran, and he tried to hide a cough by clearing his throat.
Bucky scowled as he threw another blanket over his friend. "The Hell you are. I'll make some soup, keep your butt in that bed." he warned.
"Bucky-" Steve started to protest weakly, but Bucky had already gone. Steve hadn't shown up for school and Bucky had shown up concerned.
"I eliminated all threats that came after me." Winter informed him. He had taken care of himself perfectly well. Winter had eaten, drunk, and slept in the quantities he determined necessary. If the captain considered that not taking care of himself, he had to be judging by standards for civilians. Flickers of images and voices went through his mind, and Winter tried to ignore them.
"Here, have some'a this." Bucky said as he sat on the edge of Steve's bed with the freshly warmed up soup.
"Buck, you'll get sick! I'm fine, reall-" Steve broke off into a fit of coughs, and Bucky rubbed his back soothingly until it passed. "Buck..."
Bucky smiled as he sat cross-legged, his knee on Steve's as he held out a spoonful. He knew Steve hated feeling weak, hated feeling like a burden, but Bucky hated to see his best pal in pain. And Bucky could be persuasive. Or stubborn, as Steve called it. "Just sit back and relax, and say 'ahh'."
"I can feed myself, Buck!" Steve protested with a faint flush.
"I know ya can, pal. But I want to. Makes me feel important."
Steve snorted. "Important?"
"Yeah. I get to give my best pal a hand. That's important to me." Bucky looked down at the bowl for a moment before he offered Steve a cheeky, sheepish grin. "You don't wanna break my heart, do ya, buddy?"
Steve had been stunned into silence a moment at the playful Bucky's bit of sincerity, but at the finish, his lips twisted into a wry smile. He knew Bucky was just trying not to make him feel bad, Bucky Barnes' heart was far from danger, but still... Steve sighed, happy despite himself and unable to deny Bucky, "Ahh-" he said obediently.
"There's a good punk." Bucky said with a grin as he fed Steve a spoonful of soup.
Steve snorted and almost choked soup out of his nose. "J-Jerk."
The captain stared at him before he shook his head. "That's not what I mean...you...you'd lost weight. Your vitals were all wrong...and...here's the thing, Dr. Banner took a brain scan. You were messed up bad, Bu-..." The captain hesitated, and clearly omitted some information as he continued. Winter took note of that with a frown. "According to Dr. Banner...whenever your mind tried to...heal and remember things, it would cause you pain and make you...uh...unstable. Your brain was...damaged."
Winter heard the words 'vitals' and 'brain scan', and his frowning expression zeroed out instantly. His eyes were on Steve, but the look in them was filled with sudden malice.
"You tested me." His tone was almost accusatory. "Then you got what you needed to do this to me."
"Partial memory regeneration seen in subject after two week duration from cryo-state.. Higher voltage required to mitigate."
"No...no...no! Let me go! Let me go! I have to...I...let me-agh!" An electrical charge went through the Winter Soldier.
"Scan again, test for decreased mental function."
The captain's eyes widened. "No! We didn't, we wouldn't have a way even if we wanted to-and we don't! But Tony tested you again, whatever...-this-" he gestured to Winter- "-is...your brain is healed. Dr. Banner said it's just a matter of getting your memories back and processing them...it shouldn't hurt any more."
"Neural activity renewing, increase voltage and proceed."
...
"What do you mean, healed? I thought it couldn't be done." Steve peered at the brain image on the screen, but the image remained as meaningless to him as ever.
"Yeah, and neither can reverse-aging, but try telling that to the mini-hobo soldier." Tony pointed out as he examined the data.
"So...so...he's fixed?"
"Not exactly." Bruce supplied. "This is a healthy, functioning brain. But as you noticed, he was still...not himself. The issue of amnesia is still present, whatever did this didn't fix his memories...but with his mind like this, regaining his memories will be much easier. It shouldn't hurt him any more, and while he might have a hard time distinguishing reality from the flashbacks for a time...it's considerably better than the alternative."
Steve let that sink in, but there was still a troubling matter. "But you have no idea how he got small? No chemicals, no...nothing?"
"Nothing chemical, plant-based, animal-based, or otherwise...now if it has anything to do with psychotic Asgardian Gods, I have no idea. We can't measure that, unfortunately."
"You think it was Loki?" Steve's eyes widened in alarm.
Tony waved a dismissive hand. "No, from what I understand, he's on Odin's s***list and locked up nice and tight. Which is merciful, considering I would have like to use his head as a pinball but anyway...the point is, if it's anything like Loki or crazy alien power...we've got no data."
"But why target Bucky..?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. If your guesses were backed by a genius-level IQ and years of experience in not being a cap-sicle." Tony said generously. "His blood tests came back normal. No super-soldier anything. Brain scan looks good. He's really a kid again, physically. Which is good and bad. Better for the whole remembering thing. Probably not gonna held with the coping. And if he gets all his memories back like that...yeesh."
Steve allowed himself to consider what it might be like if Bucky's memory was suddenly restored. He'd be waking up in the future with seventy years worth of torturous memories to deal with inside of a child's body-one that he would have to grow up again in if they couldn't undo whatever this was. It made him sick just to think about. "There's gotta be something."
"Yeah, well, something is nothing right now, so my advice would be to get the little brat remembering as much as you can...because if he does suddenly shoot up again, there's no guarantee his brain will still be in one piece."
...
Bucky awoke following another nightmare, and Steve wasn't sure what to expect. All things considered, he was actually fairly calm but what really got him was the way he was talking. His words held flickers of emotions, they were solid-intelligent responses, they held a healthy dose of pronouns...it wasn't Bucky, but it was better than the snarling mass of rage and self-mutilation he'd dealt with before. But then the other seemed to go back to thinking he was responsible, and he could tell his attempts to explain things had gone wrong when Bucky's body tensed.
"Aggghhh!" Bucky let out a wailing scream and clutched his head as he dug his fingers into his scalp. "Stopitstopitstopitstopit." he chanted in rapid succession.
Steve had no idea what the best reaction would be, he didn't want Bucky to hurt himself, and he was damned tired of the poor guy getting knocked out. On an impulse, he put on his captain's voice and barked sharply, "At attention, soldier."
At once, Bucky jerked to his feet with his hands on his head, and they lowered slowly as his gaze lifted to Steve. Bucky breathed heavily, and his eyes were wide as he regarded Steve.
Whether as Sergeant Barnes or as the Winter Soldier, the militant training should have been something he never forgot. Orders were orders, and as he'd hoped [and feared], the sharp command had gotten through to him where soothing words had previously failed. But where it had gotten them too, he wasn't sure. Still, Bucky seemed to be alert now, unlike in previous instances of his fits..."You were holding your head and screaming, pal...you wanna tell me about it?" Bucky stiffened, and the question seemed to agitate him, so Steve hurried on quickly. "Forget it, doesn't matter. Whatever I said to...upset you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. And I swear to you, Bu-...I swear we had nothing to do with you being...little again."
Winter had seen the lights, felt the electrodes on his brain, felt the pain course through him and he'd been lost in that cold, metallic Hell yet again. And then he'd heard an order, he'd reacted and when he opened his eyes, he wasn't there, it was that man who stood before him again. He made vows about his innocence in the matter of Winter's plight. Vows meant nothing to him, the words were idle, but the open expression and tone were analyzed and read as being honest. If Anthony Stark or Bruce Banner had been responsible for his present state, it was unbeknownst to Steven Rogers. Even so, that meant nothing either. "You let them test me." he repeated.
Steve's mouth fell open slightly before it closed as he realized what the problem might have been. He'd mentioned testing and brain scans carelessly, in a panic, but perhaps it had brought up bad memories. And certainly knowing you'd been tested on while unconscious and defenseless wouldn't ease your mistrust of someone. "To help you. We were hoping we could figure out what happened, but we couldn't...they said it wasn't anything chemical or traceable. That's it. Just to help you. I told you: I won't let you get hurt."
"Whether a weapon is injured is irrelevant if they can still perform their missions." Winter snapped, irritated by the captain's need to keep bringing up his pain tolerance. He was the Winter Soldier, pain was nothing, and the insinuation that he would need assistance from Captain America was laughable.
The argument was a circular one, Steve had no idea how to break the cycle. He could only say what he'd already said. "You are not a weapon. You're a human being. And you're a good one, the best I ever knew. I don't care if you can perform missions, I just can't stand to see you get hurt. It...it hurts me, Buck." Steve finished, unable to stop the emotional admission.
"I had it taken care of!" Steve snapped as he wiped blood from his lip and pulled away as Bucky tried to help him up.
Bucky had found Steve getting the snot beat out of him by a couple of prats, and he'd made short work of them. "Your new black eye says otherwise, pal." he teased, adopting humor.
Steve glared up at him, not amused. "I don't need you to fight my battles for me!"
Bucky held up his hands as if in surrender. "I know ya don't, but you can't expect me to just let you get beat up-" he trailed off as he realized that was poor phrasing. Sure enough, Steve winced and drew back.
"It's not like I get beat up on purpose." Steve finally muttered, and he tried to push past Bucky.
Bucky held out an arm to stop him, and he slung it around Steve's shoulders as he pulled the other boy into a half-hug, though he kept him at arm's length. "I know that, Steve. You're the toughest punk I know. But look at it from my angle, if ya saw me being beat up, wouldn'tcha wanna help me?" Steve snorted at the idea that someone would beat Bucky up. "Wouldn'tcha?" he insisted.
Steve frowned but after a moment's consideration, he sighed and then nodded. "Yeah, I would...of course I would."
"Well, then, see? Ya can't get mad when I do it, pal. Seeing you get hurt hurts me, got it?" Steve's frown didn't fade, and Bucky caught him by the waist as he poked his fingers into Steve's side and the ever-ticklish Steve yelped. "Got it? Got it?" he teased as he poked the other some more.
"Okay, okay! I got it-gah-stop-Bucky!" Steve laughed, and then socked Bucky in the shoulder before Bucky scooped his arm around his neck as he turned them around.
"Bucky? Hey, snap out of it!"
Winter blinked, and he realized he'd blanked out of whatever the other had been saying. The flashback this time had been vivid and encompassed his consciousness. He'd seen and heard it clearly, and it was a strange echo of his present situation, was it not? "Why?"
"..Why, what?"
"Why would you want to help me if I was being beaten?"
Steve stared at him and connected the dots between Bucky's unfocused moment to the question. He couldn't say which of the many times Bucky had come to his rescue had just been recalled, but he guessed that it was along those lines. What answer could he possibly give that the Winter Soldier would remotely understand? According to Tony, what he'd observed, and the Winter Soldiers' file...emotions, bonds, nuances of relationships, simple kindness...these things were foreign to him. How would you explain rain to someone that lived in a desert their whole life? "Because you're important to me. You matter. You're...irreplaceable."
The first two reasons didn't get a reaction, but the last made Bucky frown.
"No one is irreplaceable. A new weapon can always-"
"You're not a damned weapon, Bucky!" Steve snapped, and Bucky, in his own limited means of expression, seemed surprised and then returned to his cold demeanor.
"I'm not Bucky." Winter corrected.
"Then who are you?" Steve asked lowly.
"What are you?"
"Not...a what...I-I'm...James-"
"Again." A shock went through Bucky's body again, they'd been at it for nearly fifteen minutes.
"What are you?"
"S-Stop-" Bucky gasped against the pain.
"Again." Another shock treatment, longer this time, until Bucky's eyes rolled back into his head a moment.
"What are you?"
Bucky stared listlessly at the ceiling, thoughts drifted in and out of his head. "What...?" he echoed.
"You are the Winter Soldier. You are a weapon. You serve Hydra. Repeat this."
"...Nn-"
"Again." Another shock treatment, and Bucky screamed as the volts wracked his body. "You are the Winter Soldier. You are a weapon. You serve Hydra. Repeat this."
A long, silent moment, and then Bucky mumbled. "I am the Winter Soldier...I'm a weapon...I-...I-"
"Again."
Dimly, Winter recalled that experience. How long had it taken before he'd spoken correctly? "I am the Winter Soldier...I am a weapon...I serve Hydra." Winter repeated.
Steve watched as he lost Bucky's attention again, and when he regained it, Bucky seemed to be speaking from a programmed dialogue. Disappointment and rage filled him. They had done this to Bucky, they had twisted him, stolen his will away and dehumanized him. The file mentioned his bouts of defiance, ones that they 'corrected' with more torture and longer cryo-freezes. Bucky had tried to fight, and he'd been shoved down time and again. And all of this he'd suffered because Steve had failed to save him. He blamed himself. "And that's what you want?" he whispered.
Bucky stared at him as though just seeing him, and then his brow furrowed slightly at the question. "A weapon doesn't want. A weapon obeys." Winter didn't understand the question beyond it's basic definition, so he repeated words that had been drilled into him as a response.
"Then why didn't you go back?"
Winter searched his mind for an appropriate response, but there was none. He should have gone back, he should have completed his mission, but instead he'd gone to that museum and then taken off. When Hydra came for him, he'd killed them all. Winter had defected and so... "I'm defective." he finally said. That was the only reasonable conclusion.
The expression that filled the captain's face next was one he absolutely didn't understand. If he had, he would have called it 'heart break'. Water welled in the captain's eyes, those he recognized as tears, and he couldn't fathom the cause. None of the captain's responses made sense.
"No. You're not." Steve whispered, the words forced past a lump in his throat. It was one thing [one horrible damned thing] to know that Bucky had been tortured and made into a weapon. But to hear him speak that way about himself, to see what they'd reduced his best friend to was physically painful. His heart felt about to break in two. "You went to that museum...you saw James Barnes, you saw us...didn't it mean anything to you?"
Winter, despite himself, thought back to that day. The man in the memorial with his face. The man who seemed so very different from Winter, different as night and day. The man who smiled so easily and stood beside Captain America. Images and voices had flickered through his head, too quickly to catch or make sense of, and that pain in his chest that had been growing since the moment he'd seen the captain on the bridge reached a fever-pitch. "You made me sick." he finally replied, and the captain looked confused. "Since I saw you on the bridge, I've had pain in my chest." he said, as he clasped a hand over his heart region. "Proximity to you increases it. My head's been unclear, I keep...seeing things...hearing voices...you made me defective." Winter accused. "And at the museum...it was worse."
Steve's eyes widened at the admission, and something like relief flooded him. All this time, he thought he hadn't been getting through but...Bucky's heart ached. He just didn't understand it. "That's your heart, Buck. Your heart is hurting. It's a feeling. Emotions. Your heart remembers even if your head doesn't."
"A heart doesn't have memories." Winter hissed.
"Yes, it does. It remembers feelings...you remember me...us...they couldn't take that away from you. No matter how many times they-" Steve cut off and started over. "That pain in your heart doesn't mean you're defective, it means what I've been saying, you're human. You're my friend. And you know me. You know I'm your friend too. That's why you can't complete your mission. Because deep down, you are Bucky Barnes, and he would never hurt me. We're family."
"B-Buck?" Steve had come home to find Bucky in his hallway. It was Christmas Eve, and only a few months after his mother's death. "What the Hell? You scared me half to death."
Bucky grinned crookedly. "Don't conk out on me yet, not till ya see what I brought'cha." He eagerly pushed Steve's back and made the other head into the living room, where a small but sturdy tree decked out in a strand of lights, some candy canes, and couple of ornaments sat with a few messily wrapped Christmas presents.
Steve's eyes widened. "Where'd you get all this, Buck? You-"
"-I didn't steal it, promise. Took an extra part-time job, nothing fancy."
"Bucky-"
Bucky loped an arm around Steve's neck as he pointed to the table. "Got us some nog and whiskey, we're gonna have us a time, pal. Even got a couple of holiday plates from Ed's Diner. We'll eat like kings tonight!"
"Bucky, you didn't have to do this...it's a lot of trouble-"
Bucky snorted as he ruffled Steve's hair. "It's nothin', Stevie. We're family, ain't we? H-Hey, don't start that!" Steve's eyes had filled with tears, and the smaller boy turned away as he tried to wipe them. Bucky's gaze softened, and he smiled fondly before he spun Steve around and pulled him into a tight hug. "Merry Christmas Eve, pal."
Steve sniffed, and mumbled into Bucky's chest. "Merry Christmas Eve, Buck."
A strange pain of a different kind welled in Winter's chest. If he'd known what to call it, it would be something like warmth and fondness, but to him it was just a variance of pain. "...I...Bucky...he said the same thing...Christmas Eve...there was...a book...a brown book." he said, almost uncertainly.
Steve's eyes lit up, that was a memory he could connect to with certainty. "A sketch book...you got it for me. A real nice one...that was...after my mother died. I thought I'd be alone for Christmas, but you stayed with me. I can't even describe what it meant to me. You were always like that though...you took care of me." Steve watched Bucky carefully, astonished and hopeful when Bucky's brow furrowed as if trying to remember, and he didn't object.
"You were...smaller. And...sick...a lot. And the book...you liked...to draw..." The words were all questions, as he seemed to pull them out of himself and he watched Steve as if for confirmation.
"That's right." Steve said, and he didn't dare move or say the wrong thing, not when Bucky seemed to be properly remembering. "Everybody else said drawing was 'for girls'...but you always encouraged me. You even asked me to draw you a few times."
"...Where is the book?"
Steve hesitated before he admitted. "It's gone...that was years ago, Buck. It probably doesn't exist anymore." Bucky's expression twisted just slightly, and Steve might have called it disappointment if the Winter Soldier were capable of that. "I haven't really drawn in awhile, but I could give it a go...how about it? Want me to draw you?"
The idea seemed, just for a second, to intrigue Bucky. But then he slowly frown and seemed to withdraw again. "No...there's no point."
"Not everything has to have a point. It's okay to do things just...for fun." Bucky didn't seem to like that answer, and Steve wondered at the way Bucky could-without expression-convey so much disdain.
"Actions that don't assist the mission are unnecessary." Winter said firmly.
Steve felt he could differentiate now between when Bucky was actually speaking, and when he was reciting what had been drilled into him. The Brooklyn accent and slang were gone, but Bucky still spoke with personal inflection. When he'd originally called him Bucky, his response had been 'who the Hell is Bucky'. Rather than ignore the 'unnecessary' input from his 'mission', he had chosen to respond. And he'd used 'who the Hell'. That wasn't clinical, that was a personal response. Whenever Winter spoke with monotone confidence, when he dropped the pronouns and spoke of being a weapon, it seemed that he was reciting drilled lines and speaking formally.
As it was, Steve felt they'd made some small measure of progress, and he didn't want to push too hard. But perhaps while Bucky was lucid...he could try another tactic. "Well, I'm hungry." he announced. "And you need a shower...so how about you get a shower in, and we go out for breakfast? Lunch. Whatever." he adopted a light tone.
Winter frowned at the suggestion. "You want to take me outside? I could escape."
"...You could try...but I'd catch you. And besides, where would you go? If you try and starve yourself like you did before, you won't last this time...you're not a super soldier right now." He hated to bring that up again, but tip-toeing around the issue didn't seem like it would be helpful either. He watched as Bucky stiffened and feared he'd erred anyway, but after a moment, Bucky spoke slowly.
"You're...trying to...take care of me?" Again the words all seemed like questions as he tried to analyze the captain.
"That's part of it." Steve admitted. "And I just wanna spend some time with you. And I'm getting real sick of being cooped up in this crazy building." he offered Bucky a tentative smile. He watched as Bucky glanced around as if to consider whether he too was tired of Stark Tower. Eventually his gaze settled on Steve.
"I'm not Bucky."
Steve felt his heart clench, and he bit his tongue as he searched for an answer. "You remember being him."
"I have...some memories." Winter admitted. "They don't mean anything."
"Not according to what you told me." Steve tapped his heart to remind Bucky of his confession. Bucky blinked and seemed momentarily annoyed, before he looked down at his chest and then seemed to reach a decision.
"Even if that's true...I'm still not him. I'm the Winter Soldier."
"You don't have to be." Steve said softly.
"You are the Winter Soldier. You serve Hydra. Beyond that, you are nothing. You are a tool. You are a weapon. Nothing more. Do you understand?"
"If I'm not the Winter Soldier, I'm nothing!" Winter snapped. Captain America didn't understand. If he didn't complete his missions, if he wasn't useful, then he was defective and he held no value or purpose. He would be nothing.
Steve flinched at the words but shook his head. "If you're not the Winter Soldier...if you're not Bucky...you're still someone. You can figure that out. But whoever you are...I don't wanna lose you."
"You don't want to lose Bucky, but he's already gone." Winter hissed.
Steve rose from the bed then, and Winter took a few steps back. Steve approached slowly and with his palms splayed out in a gesture of peace as he knelt down in front of Bucky. The other's posture was tense and defensive, and Steve slowly moved a hand to Bucky's shoulder. Bucky stiffened, but to Steve's surprise and relief, he didn't move away. "I won't lie to you, I want my Bucky back. More than anything. But if I can't have him, I can live with that. But you were Bucky. And that's enough for me to never give up on you. Whoever you choose to be, however it turns out, I'm with you till the end of the line."
And something clicked in the back of Winter's mind. He felt as if stood before the precipice of a divide, and if just crossed that...then...then what? Who would he be? If he wasn't the Winter Soldier, if he was or wasn't 'Bucky'...what was he? What would he have to hold on to? Those words drew up a memory, just out of his reach, and if he could remember...if he could just-
Winter drew back suddenly, and stared at Steve with visible apprehension.
"Bucky?" While he was glad to see a flicker of expression on Bucky's face-he didn't like that it looked so close to fear. Were his words that unsettling? He couldn't get a read on Bucky, on what he was thinking or potentially feeling. And so Steve let the matter drop before it grew out of hand again. "How about that shower and food?" he finished gently.
Bucky didn't say much after that, but he allowed Steve to lead him to the shower. Steve noted that he took stock of everything, and Steve had a suspicion he was planning escape routes. But for now, he felt that Bucky wasn't a flight risk. Or going to try to kill him. For the moment. "Okay, so there's stuff in the shower, a towel in that cupboard, and if you need anything I'll be just down the hall, okay?" But he noted that Bucky seemed reticent, and he frowned. The other had to know how to shower, didn't he? "Uh...you...you did take showers, didn't you?"
Bucky's jaw clenched as his gaze shot up to Steve. "I was cleaned after my missions."
"..Cleaned?" Steve echoed.
"My prosthetic arm was covered. High-pressured water hose was used for cleaning." Bucky said, as though it should have been obvious.
Steve felt a wave of nausea run through him. The water pressure from one of those was nothing nice. It had probably been freezing. And he doubted they did it with his clothes on. He could imagine Bucky, scarred from missions and their torture, being made to strip and line up for a 'cleaning'. The urge to vomit warred with the desire to physically beat every member of Hydra he could find. "We don't..." his own jaw clenched and he forced himself to speak calmly. "Look." He headed over to the shower and showed Bucky how to turn it on. "Turn it this way for warmer water, this way for colder water...whatever feels comfortable."
Bucky's expression was as dubious as the Winter Soldier's expression could be, and Steve bit his tongue as he adjusted it himself to a comfortably warm temperature. Telling Bucky to act based on feelings would carry as much weight right now as telling a fish to swim on dry land. "Shampoo and conditioner. You use these to rinse your hair...it's hair soap. And there's regular soap. For your body." he clarified. Bucky continued to stare, and Steve had a feeling that if he left, Bucky was at best going to stand in the shower and get out. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't going to hurt much if he didn't have Bucky use the products. But he hoped that the act of doing something normal would help Bucky's recovery. He had to be reminded that he was human, shown that he wasn't a weapon.
Steve hesitated and then offered. "Is it okay if I help you this time? Show you how?"
"It's not necessary." Winter finally replied. "Water is sufficient."
More drilled responses. "Trust me...you're gonna want it after awhile. Greasy, itchy hair and-"
"There is no trust." Winter snapped suddenly. "I don't trust you. It isn't necessary in a-"
"I swear if you say 'weapon' one more time, I'm going to-" Steve had started automatically to say something about smacking him-not truly, it was an expression of exasperation, but he cut off as Bucky tensed and seemed on the defensive. "I'm going to cry." he finished. And that seemed to confuse Bucky who frowned at him but relaxed his posture a bit.
"You make no sense." Winter finally said.
Steve smiled ruefully. "I've been accused of worse...will you let me help you? ...Please?"
Winter hesitated, but after a moment's consideration, he suddenly took his clothes off and stepped into the shower.
Steve was a little taken aback by the sudden response but he took it as a 'yes'. Bucky stood stock still with the water running over him, his posture rigid, and Steve said gently. "You can relax...most people enjoy showers."
"I'm not most people." For some reason, the response was oddly reminicent of his Bucky, as was the almost surly way he said it.
Steve didn't have a decent response to that, so he settled for starting with the shampoo. He kept his movements slow. "You'll wanna close your eyes, it'll sting if it gets in them." Bucky stiffened, and Steve figured closing his eyes around the 'mission' was a big no-no for him. "If I was going to hurt you, don't you think I would have done it already? I just want to help you. That's all." After yet another long moment [Steve was starting to suspect the pauses were internal debates], Bucky's eyes slowly closed and he gently began working a lather into Bucky's hair.
He remembered Bucky at this age, from so many years ago, and at that time they were still about the same size. Even so, Bucky had still seemed larger than life, vivacious and snarky, adventurous and fearless, and reckless even then. Now, despite the vicious persona currently contained in him, he seemed small and fragile, entirely too helpless and at the mercy of a world that kept trying to break him. Steve had the sudden urge to pull him close and hold him the way Bucky always did for him, back when he'd fit tucked against Bucky. He'd usually gripe at Bucky about it, but he never felt safer than in those moments, it was like him and Bucky against the world and he knew Bucky wouldn't let anything touch him. Steve had hoped that when he'd gotten the serum, he'd be able to give Bucky that same comfort.
But he'd failed.
Steve gently rinsed Bucky's hair and started with the conditioner. "You leave the conditioner in a couple minutes...so you can open your eyes."
Bucky's eyes came open slowly, and Steve was startled at how...calm he looked, almost vulnerable.
"You could pretend sometimes."
"What?"
"After a mission...you could come back, stand in the shower, and for a few minutes...you just wash it all away."
It took Steve a minute, but he realized that Bucky wasn't talking as the Winter Soldier, but as Sergeant Barnes.
"The only damn privacy you could get." Bucky suddenly added in a slightly sullen mutter.
Steve's eyes widened. And to a degree, he didn't think Bucky even realized what he was saying. But he'd play along. "Unless your best friend thinks it's funny to prank you in the showers."
Bucky paused and his expression suddenly seemed almost animated. "Like turning the water heater off?"
"Yeah, that'd be one thing." Steve agreed, he'd had more than a few chilly showers thanks to a mischevious Bucky Barnes. Not that he hadn't paid him back in kind. And then that time Bucky had put a snake into the shower...he'd gotten caught on that one, and Steve hadn't been as 'sorry' as he'd pretended when he was forced to make Bucky run a couple of laps around camp as penance.
Bucky, slightly out of breath, came to stand beside Steve with a scowl. "Laps are finished, Captain."
Steve's lips twitched as he fought a smirk. "I hope you've learned your lesson, Sergeant."
"Oh, I have. Next time, I'll just put it in your bed, Captain." Bucky replied sweetly.
"Sorry, Buck, I don't swing that way." Steve teased back, and Bucky scowled further, before both of them dissolved into laughter.
Bucky didn't seem inclined to say more, and Steve handed him the bar of soap. "Just rub it until you have suds, and use that to wash your body. Just scrub your skin." But he needn't have spoken, apparently, since Bucky had already started doing just that. If he'd known how therapeutic a shower would be, he'd have had Bucky take one from the get go. There was no more conversation as Bucky rinsed and Steve got the rest of the conditioner out, nor as Steve wrapped him up in a towel. "I'm gonna get ya some fresh clothes, okay? I'll be right back." he started to leave, but right at the door, he could swear he heard a faint 'thank you' follow him out. But as he glanced back at Bucky, the other wasn't looking at him and he wondered if it had just been wishful thinking.
...
Winter had subjected himself to the shower and the aid of the captain. If he wasn't going back to Hydra, then for the time being, it was best to see the functions of those who weren't weapons. It was just data to collect, any knowledge could be potentially useful, he reasoned. Although for what shampoo and conditioner would be useful for, he had no idea. Although when the captain mentioned that it might sting, he wondered if it would be an effect weapon for temporary vision impairment.
He hadn't wanted to close his eyes, he did not 'trust' the captain...but he was willing to grant logically that if the captain had wished to harm him, he'd had ample opportunity to do so. So he'd submitted to the other's minstrations and found himself...found himself...
Bucky breathed a heavy sigh as he closed his eyes and let the hot water run over him. A fresh cut on his arm stung for a moment under the water, but overall, it eased his sore muscles and relieved him. The sounds of gunfire played back in his ears, Steve's voice shouting orders over the din, but he let the sound of water fill his ears as he relaxed for a moment. Another successful mission. He deserved a little break.
Winter found himself speaking, and he wasn't sure where the words came from exactly, but they felt...right.
When the captain left to get clothes, he heard that little voice in the back of his mind, he couldn't quite make it out but in the end, "Thank you," bubbled quietly from his lips. The words were almost meaningless to him, expressions of gratitude were foreign, but he understood the concept by basic definition. The ache in his chest had eased, and in fact, the proximity to the captain seemed to have made the burden less in this instance. He had felt strangely secure, much like when he was tucked away in his cryo-tube. It was a ridiculous notion, but still...
Winter stepped closer to the counter and glanced at himself in the mirror, it was slightly foggy and he wiped it away with a small hand. There was that unfamiliar face. A child's face. Not his. He wiped further at the mirror, only to pull back as he realized he was not alone.
"You're pathetic."
Winter's head jerked up as his expression immediately dead-panned and he whipped around in a defensive stance, but he saw no one. He turned back to the mirror, and there he saw it again.
The Winter Soldier, in full attire save for the goggles and face mask, gazed coldly down at him. "You failed your mission. You're a disgrace."
"Who are you?" he demanded, voice cold as he filtered through potential weapons. Was the mirror a two-way, or was it projecting an image? It couldn't be the Winter Soldier, because he was the Winter Soldier. Someone was using his form.
"You're wrong. I am the Winter Soldier. You're a fake. A defective by-product. You shouldn't exist." The Winter Soldier said in monotone.
"Show yourself." Winter snarled as he spun around and scanned the room, determined to find the source of the projection.
"You failed your mission. You ran. You're defective. You're nothing."
"Enough!" Winter hissed as he looked back at the mirror image.
"You shouldn't exist. You don't deserve the title of Winter Soldier. You are nothing. Your mission is the only thing that matters. You are a weapon."
"You are not a weapon, you're a human being!"
The captain's voice rang in his ears. "Stop talking." And it wasn't clear if he was talking to the mirror image or the echo of Steve's voice in his head.
"Finish your mission, or die. You are not human. You are a weapon. Finish your mission. Kill Captain America. Your mission is the only thing that matters. Finish your mission."
"Stop talking!" Winter snarled as he slammed a soap holder into the mirror, and the glass shattered. Several pieces cut him as the glass rained down to reveal no secret room, it had only been a mirror. But the damage was done.
"Bucky! What the Hell!" Steve had returned and he crouched by Bucky's side quickly. "Come on, let's get you-"
Winter grasped a long, jagged piece of glass in his hand tight enough to make his skin bleed. He was heedless of it as he swung his arm around to Steve's neck. "Finish the mission!" he snarled, and slower though his child form was, Steve hadn't been prepared. The glass made it's way to Steve's neck-
"Sergeant Barnes, you had your orders, your mission was to let Captain America act as a decoy for the bullets while you-"
"-Sorry, Corporal. My first mission is to protect my captain. Court martial me if you want, but that's just how it is." At his side, Steve wasn't sure whether to smile or smack Bucky, he appreciated the loyalty but it wasn't helping.
"I could have you stripped of your rank and sent back to training." The corporal spat.
"Well, you could try." Bucky replied archly. But his mission would still be the same.
-The glass clattered to the floor as Winter dropped it, and he suddenly crouched down with his hands on his head. "No...my mission...is to protect the captain."
"Kill him! Steven Rogers is your target, finish it!"
"That's why you can't complete your mission. Because deep down, you are Bucky Barnes, and he would never hurt me. We're family."
"I won't do it!" he snarled, and he started to slam his already bleeding fist into the glass on the ground, but a firm, strong hand caught him and Winter found himself pulled into a large, warm body. He struggled at first, on instinct, but then arms wrapped around him and held him tightly and Winter made a strangled noise as his...his heart caught in his chest. Another instinct took over as he burrowed into that warmth, buried his face in the captain's chest and slid small arms around his waist. Winter could feel the captain's breath, heavy and warm on his neck as the captain seemed to try to embrace every inch of him.
"I've got you, Buck. You're safe. You're alright...no more hurting yourself, please...it's alright." Steve whispered. He wasn't sure of all that had happened, he'd nearly gotten stabbed in the neck, but then Bucky seemed to fight with himself and in the end...he spoke words that Steve remembered from long ago. Bucky tried to hurt himself, and Steve couldn't resist anymore. The desire to shield that fragile, broken form was too much and he didn't know how much of a weight off of his shoulders it would be to hold onto Bucky again until he felt the air rush out of him. "I've missed you, Buck." he whispered, expression pained as tears stung his vision. Bucky didn't reply, but he didn't object either as he kept nestled in Steve's embrace.
How much time passed, he wasn't sure, but eventually-reluctantly, he pulled Bucky off of him a bit though he kept his arms around him. "Are you alright?"
"Don't leave me again." Bucky's voice was almost a whisper, actually child-like as Bucky stared at Steve's chest. "It was so cold." And Steve knew he wasn't referring to when he'd walked away for the clothes. How long had he lain in the snow, still alive, as Steve hung on to the train and unknowingly left him behind?
A sob hitched in Steve's throat as he clutched Bucky, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to the other's forehead. "I won't. I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Bucky."
Bucky didn't reply, but of his own accord, he leaned forward again and buried himself against Steve. He again lost track of time as he held onto Bucky, but he realized at some point that Bucky's breathing had become a slow, steady rhythm and he glanced down to find Bucky asleep in his arms. Whether it was built up exhaustion, or whether the mental and emotional stress had gotten to him, Steve wasn't sure. But he was plenty willing to let him rest. Bucky still had the towel wrapped around him, and he scooped the small form and the clothes up as he brought him back to the bedroom and tucked him in.
Steve stood beside the bed a moment as he stared down at the sleeping form.
"Don't leave me again...it was so cold."
Tears stung his vision again as guilt assailed him anew. How many times had Bucky saved him? Risked his life for him? Devoted himself to Steve? If Steve had fallen off that train, he was half-certain Bucky would have jumped after him. Steve was a super-soldier. If he had jumped...would he have survived? Could he have saved Bucky?
Could he save him now?
Steve bent down and pressed another kiss to the small head. There were now some cuts that needed tending to, but he'd let the other rest for now. He gently brushed away a few strands of wet hair and then pulled up a chair beside the bed. Steve wouldn't make the same mistake twice, he wouldn't let Bucky down again.
He couldn't.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
You have an idea for how it's going to go down, and then the characters go and do whatever the Hell they want. Ah well. Rewatched Bucky scenes in the First Avenger, and a bit in Winter Soldier. I've read fanfic portrayals of the Winter Soldier where he's totally robotic or lacking any understanding, but if you pay attention to his speech patterns there is personality there. Such as when he says 'who the Hell is Bucky'. His child-like questioning of who the man on the bridge was. The look on his face when he's fighting Steve in the end. He does have a purely Winter Soldier side, but there's a fragmented Bucky side right there too. I'm really having fun dipping into his character, and I'm trying to stay true to what he'd be going through psychologically. That being said...Jeez, they didn't even make it to breakfast in this chapter like I'd planned, let alone what comes next. Longest chapter yet. XD But they did have an emotional breakthrough...so...win? I'm trying to be accurate...but I also don't want to drag it out for ages and ages. Don't worry, I have lots of action planned [and more humor-i.e. Tony], not just drama. XD Also, Bucky thinks of himself as the Winter Soldier so when it's more his POV I used 'Winter' who thinks of Steve as 'the captain', but when it's more Steve's POV he thinks of him as Bucky and Steve. XD Reviews are hugs for my soul! Enjoy!~Witchy~