Chapter 20: Interrogation in SHIELD

AN: this is the start of the Darkest SH*T I have ever written. This is Rated M because of these next two Chapters. Please don't hate me, I wrote these outlines six years ago. It was like 2015 into 2016 when I was writing this part, my fingers were so cold.

Okay for final clarification this Chapter and the one following it are rated M okay: if you are triggered, this is your Warning: I will not tag to spoil. So yeah…. Please don't kill me!

Well Onto the Fic

Morning dawned to Steven with the crusty eyes of those that have cried before sleep, but he was nowhere near as groggy or tired as he had thought he would be. To his surprise, when he rolled over and looked at his side table clock, he had slept through the night, and not only through the night, but a full eight hours. It shouldn't have surprised him that he was so well rested after eight solid hours of sleep, but considering he rarely got more than three hours at a time because of his nightmares, it was a nice change. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed and across the hall to shower and make himself as clean as possible before dressing in his Winter Knight uniform and pulling over the glamor of his Captain's uniform one last time. He took his time, running his fingers over the ribbons and buttons, straightening the cuffs before he picked up his cover and carefully put it on his head.

He gazed into the mirror and saw his old self, the one that he had carefully and meticulously pieced back together from the shattered version his targets had reduced him to; but also, he realized that it was a lie. This image in front of him, in the blue with all his ribbons and the cap was a false modern facsimile of who he was, and for just a second, he shifted it to his real uniform. The blue exchanged for olive drab and browns, and the modern medals became his real ones, with all the commendations and awards and qualification markers and pins. His paratrooper jump wings shown with two bright stars, indicating that he had jumped in combat. His combat infantry badge stood out on the bright blue background, and all his citations and awards sat proudly on his left breast. On his lapel were his SSR pins gleaming in gold, and on his shoulders at proudly his captain's bars in bright silver. The belt cinched at his waist and the jacket hung down past it to hang level with the cuffs. The cover sat at a slight jaunty tilt and when he pulled a smile for a moment he was stunned that he looked so much like his Ada in his old pictures before he was shipped out.

He let out a shuddering breath and changed it back to the modern version. He looked at it once more and softly smiled. With a sigh of relief, he realized that this image that he had cultivated was one that he was glad to let go. That fallacy of it sat wrong with him, and he was at last ready to release this part of his false self and pull back to a realer version of who he was.

He slipped out of the room and paused when he saw that Maedhros was sleeping on his sofa, before he raised a hand and levitated a blanket to cover the giant form curled up on it. A soft smile pulled at his lips as the redheaded elf sighed in contentment and snuggled deeper into the blanket, before Steven turned and slipped out the front door.

Steven entered the Triskelion with a business like expression on his face. The receptionist greeted him with a smile, and handed him his guest clearance badge, before he turned to the elevators. Steven ignored all the regular ones and headed to the lone elevator at the end of the hall. The door opened at his command and he entered before swiftly commanding the doors to close.

"Authorization code please," the computer interface asked. Steven took a deep breath, No turning back now, and spoke.

"This is an Alpha 10 authorization: Steven Grant Buchanan, Captain: Alpha1001," he recited the code and the computer instantly switched to the restricted clearance mode to verify.

"Voice print confirmed," the interface answered.

"Take me to the Ark," Steven ordered. There was a quiet thud before the car swiftly descended into the bowls of the Triskelion and into the basement level. The doors open again to another long hallway with doors and storage rooms and old file archives and vaults. Steven smirked at the realization that Howard had taken his advice to heart: you can't hack paper. Steven walked past all the doors to the older elevator at the end of the hall. This one is hidden, though, but once Steven telekinetically brushed aside the false wall hiding the door, he activated the keypad and typed in his code once more.

When the doors open, Steven stepped inside and directed it to take him down again, below the Insight bay to the oldest part of the facility, simply named the Ark. It was an old nuclear-bomb fallout shelter built by SHILED during the height of the Cold War. It had been decommissioned by Howard and all record of it expunged from digital and physical records to protect what was within, and when the doors opened, Steven stepped into the room for the first time and saw why it was so special. The room was huge, easily spanning the entire footprint of the Triskelion itself, with large pillars that framed the footings for the very foundations of the building. And the whole thing had been converted into an airtight temperature and humidity controlled room, a true archival vault to protect its contents. And those contents were the most precious that SHIELD had. In hundreds of archival boxes and humidity controlled cases were all of the data, equipment, and files pertaining to Project Rebirth, and later the files on the Howling Commandoes. Steven's gaze skimmed over the glass cases containing his and the others old uniforms and other items, pausing for a moment to smirk at the case containing his first creation using his powers: a completely electronic computer tablet that was so advanced in his day and even today.

Steven dragged his gaze back to his objective and walked right up to it. It was a box on the shelf labeled Barnes, and Steven carefully took it off the shelf and opened it. Inside was his original file, including the film of his birth, and all the classified footage of his as he grew up. Everything is there, including the proof Stark had brought back from the Alps of his and Bucky's capture: the old field med kit with the audio tape recorder inside. To be fairly honest, Steven was rather shocked that it still worked and that the med kit had remained air tight, but it was to his benefit.

Steven carried the box over to the wall where he typed into a keyboard.

"Suzie, are you in?" Steven asked, and the lights brightened slightly.

"For you, sir, always," the AI replied, and Steven smiled.

"Activate Alpha level security measures," Steven ordered.

"Authorization required," Suzie asked, her slight Irish accent rolling over the r's as always.

"Alpha 10 authorization: Steven Grant Buchanan, Captain: Alpha1001, activate security measures," Steven answered.

"Authorization code confirmed," Suzie complied, "Sir, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," Steven answered, "activate security measures, Suzie. No one gets in this room without the Alpha 10 access codes, and if they try, gas them." Steven stared at the control panel before it became green, and then smiled.

"Security measures activated, Captain," Suzie confirmed, "I hope you know what you're doing, sir."

"I hope so too," Steven answered as the elevator doors closed.

The thump of a very heavy box suddenly dropping on his desk had Jonathan looking up with a start to see his brother standing beside his desk. Jonathan looked at the deceptively plain case file box, then back up at his brother, standing as silent as a statue in his dress blues.

"Is there a reason you're dropping a case literally on my desk," he asked with an arched brow.

Steven's face was as if it was carved from stone, but Jonny knew his brother well enough that he could detect the slightest hint of resigned sorrow in his eyes, but also relief. His shoulders were square and his stance calm and erect. It looked as if a great weight was slowly being removed from his shoulders.

"Steven," Jonathan asked, his brow suddenly furrowed with worry as said man rebuffed his mental attempts to contact and give comfort. "Are you okay?" Steven seemed to pause before he closed his eyes and took a slow breath.

"I will be," he said, staring Jonathan right in the eye, before his gaze slid down to the box. "I need you to do something for me." Jonathan started, looking at his brother with numb shock for a moment before he regained his voice.

"Sure," Jonathan answered, "whaddya need?"

"Take this down to the portal in the lab," Steven said as he tapped the cover of the box with his finger. "I need you to take it through the portal to the Bunker in Lebanon." Jonathan looked up at his brother in shock.

"Why," he asked, and Steven's face finally pulled into a wry smile.

"Because it's time to sever the DSI from SHIELD," Seven said. Jonathan absently nodded as he opened the box and looked at the files within.

"What's it for," Jonathan asked as he pulled out Steven's old KGB file, moving to open it when Steven stopped him with a hand on his. Jonathan looked up at his brother and saw shame and regret buried deep in his brother's eyes. "Steven," he asked tentatively, his voice full of concern.

"The file is to be digitized, along with the two others, and added to the Winter Knight file," Steven said. His gaze was blank and a void of emotion, but Jonathan knew his brother well enough to know he was hiding behind that mask. He carefully put the file back in the box, and took his brother's hands in his own. When Jonathan finally caught his brother's gaze there was a resolve there that was a hard as diamonds. "I need them ready to be leaked to the public."

"Steven," Jonathan said his tone soft and compassionate. "If you do this, you won't be able to hide anymore." Steven seems to steel himself further, as he looked down at the disguised file.

"If I do this there'll be no hiding for any of us," Steven said softly. He looked back up at his brother with a remorseful smile. "You should go, time difference and all." Jonathan nodded and picked up the box. Steven watched his brother leave the room and glanced up at the cameras before leaving the room briefly to place the security system in a loop, while he walked to a dead spot and made a double to stand and wait. He cloaked himself from the cameras' sight and returned to the office. Steven quickly dealt with the cameras as he sat down in his brother's chair and got to work setting up a failsafe for his brother's private files. It only took a moment, but he was soon quickly done, and sat back with a triumphant smirk. Anyone who tried to enter the system without his brother's normal codes or bypass them would be in for a nasty surprise that would not only physically fry the computer but also the data sticks to copy said files and offsite systems of anyone who attempted it remotely.

It was a simple little virus he had made back in his early days and it had never failed to make those who wanted his private files pay dearly.

Steven stood up from the chair just as he heard Jonathan returning into the room. The younger brother's brows furrowed when he saw Steven get up from his chair.

"What were you doing on my computer, brother," he asked as he stepped around Steven to inspect the machine.

"Nothing important," Steven said with an ironic smile, "just a little failsafe, for your files." At this Jonathan threw an annoyed glare over his shoulder, to which Steven returned with a winning smile. The smile quickly faded, and Steven pulled his brother into a tight embrace. "You be safe," he said softly into Jonathan's dark hair, before he pulled away and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Goodbye, brother," he whispered before he turned and walked out of the room.

Steven found Nikola in a large break room not far from the main office that was his station. Steven wanted nothing more than to grab the man, drag him into a darkened room or lab and finish him quickly. Rip his mind to shreds and leave him a drooling mess on the floor, before finishing him off with a quick shot to the head; but that would do nothing, at least not for the agency. No what they wanted, and alas what part of him did too, was a flashy and bloody reintroduction for the Winter Knight, and for his identity to be well and truly burned.

So he followed him, watching discreetly from behind his cover, occasionally glancing at his watch as the man looked back at him, or down at his phone, with a warm smile to deflect the seething loathing he had for the man. Finally his target entered into his office station. The room war rather large, and the long tables and transparent screens of the work stations, made the large space somewhat small. The grey utilitarian walls and metal panels had an ominous look that was mostly overcome by the cheery atmosphere of the technicians and analysts that worked there. The slick grey slab tiles were easy to clean, but they were real stone, and Steven knew without a shadow of a doubt they would stain with blood. In that moment, though Steven couldn't find it in himself to care, and reveled in the physical reminder that he would leave for HYDRA that not a single one was safe, not even in their stolen house.

Steven took a series of long slow breaths, let go of his control, and let his darkest parts have free reign. When his eyes opened, Steven didn't know they were ominously glowing a blue white from the pupil and the sclera was slowly turning a void black, bleeding out from the iris that had turned almost crystalline in appearance and was beginning to glow as well, lit from behind by flames. In this moment he was both fair and fell to gaze upon, for his wrath had made him as one of the great heroes of old, as one of the Noldor newly come out of the west; their wrath and lust for justice against Morgoth new and their spirits young and strong. So Steven breathed and the sclera became white again and his face sharp and fair. He was terrible to behold, and he stepped into the room.

He spotted Nikola easily. He was near the middle of the room, not yet in the isles between the desks, and he was alone. No one was standing anywhere close to him. Steven zeroed in on him.

"Nikola Eukheriovich," Steven called out, his voice carrying across the room. Somehow in the calmness of it, it held a weighty command to answer, to comply. Nikola started, sharply turning toward the person who had called his real name for the first time in years. The moment he was fully facing him, Steven dropped all pretense of office peacefulness. Steven quickly un-holstered his gun, hidden in his false jacket, brings it up, aims and in one smooth moment drops the illusion of Captain Buchanan and became the Winter Knight: Stevan.

-"До свидания, Nikola," (Goodbye) Steven said in a loud clear voice and fired. Seven shots are quickly emptied into the spy, leaving a single shot in the chamber.

All at once the room erupted into chaos. Agents drew their sidearm and started firing, but it was too late. Steven had already put up a telekinetic barrier between him and everyone else but Eukheriovich.

Steve heard the sound of gunfire before anything else, and years of battle instinct kicked in and had him running towards the sound of shots still being fired. He took a turn so hard he slid across the floor as he grabbed the frame to steady himself, before he charged into the room, shield out and ready. But what he found in there was not what he was expecting.

He hadn't seen the Knight since the Battle of New York, but he was not a person that was easily forgotten. His quiet disgust and disapproval had hung around the man like an aura, as well as the silent menacing air that showed when he had growled out his opinions during the lead up to the battle. But here the menace wasn't quiet, it was out in full, as he loomed over the downed agent in front of him gun hanging loosely at his side, but tight in his fist.

The agents in the room had stopped firing if only because it was a fruitless effort with the near invisible barrier between them and the Knight. The air had a shimmering quality almost like an oil slick, and the image as slightly warped and distorted in spots as it rippled and moved. There was no energy glow, or anything like that, but it was there, and Steve knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was the Knight's own version of a shield. It was a bubble all around them; blocking anything from getting in, but as Steve quickly learned sound could and did come back out. The wounded agent was lying prone on the ground but not crumpled like Steve would have expected. Instead he was laying spread eagle on the floor and seemed almost pinned like a bug on a wall.

"Hello, Nikola," the Knight said, his voice full of loathing a restrained violence. "How does it feel… to be helpless, trapped, paralyzed, by someone with more power than you?" Steve looked at the agent again and finally recognized him as Nicholas Eukheri, and saw that he looked well and truly terrified.

"What do you want," the man asked through gritted teeth, obviously in pain. The Knight let out a small huff of breath, and his lips pulled into a facsimile of a smile; only this one seemed twisted by disgust and anger. He knelt down beside him and the smile pulled into something more sinister. It wouldn't have looked out of place on Loki, but on the Knight, it looked jarring and frankly terrifying.

"You know what I want, Nikola," he said his face calm and scolding like a teacher to an unruly child. "Give it to me, and I might spare you some suffering." It seemed that Nick wasn't going to be compliant and spat a glob of bloodied phlegm at the Knight.

"Screw you," he snarled. The Knight simply whipped it away from his cheek, looked down at it before he looked back up at the man his face as cold and hard as cold steel.

"Wrong answer," he said, very calmly before he stood up and took position by the other man's wounded elbow. "now, I am going to ask this just once, and you better give me the right answer, or, trust me, what I did to Lukin is going to be a breeze compared to what I am going to do to you." the Knight knelt down and looked the other man squarely in the eye. "Now," he drawled, "Shall we begin?" Nikola, Steve saw, gulped hard and nodded. "Good," the Knight said with a bright and cheery grin that would not have looked out of place on a cashier or some other customer service worker. "Where is the Asset?" he asked, and the room seemed to freeze. The STRIKE members glanced at each other with loaded looks and stared at Nikola, (Steve quickly realized that it was the man's real name, and his son's fear suddenly made sense) something like intense worry in their hardened eyes. Nikola must have seen it because he gulped hard and glared up at the Knight.

"I don't know," he said, and Steve just knew that was a lie, and it seemed that so too did the Knight.

"Try again, Kolya," he asked blandly, as he put a booted foot on Nikola's wounded elbow and pressed down hard.

The man let out a keening wail, as he tried to curl up to protect his injury but was prevented by the force holding him down.

"I don't know!" he wailed, but the Knight's eyes narrowed, before he pressed down on the other's injured shoulder this time.

"I know when you're lying, Kolya," he said, "save yourself the pain and don't," then pressed on the opposite shoulder.

"I don't know! Jesus, God," he screamed, "I swear I don't know!" it was obvious that the Knight didn't believe him. The Knight narrowed his eyes and cocked his head like a curious bird, as a single brow hitched up.

"You don't Believe in God, Nikola," he said with a bland matter of fact tone that took on the quality of a school teacher chastising a student. "So try again!"

"I don't know," Nikola snarled, panicked and in pain, his eyes glassy and a thin film of sweat on his pale face. Steven pinned him with an unimpressed glare.

"You know perfectly well that I could rip the information out of your pathetic skull and leave you a drooling mess," Steven said, his voice hard but calm and steady. Nikola's eyes widened to saucers as his face drained of the rest of his blood, leaving his face ashen. "You understand; good," Steven grinned. "So you also know why it is in your best interest to tell the truth." Nikola swallowed hard before he tried to rally his resolve. "I grow tired of your lies, Kolya. My patience is thin, do not lie again." Nikola glanced over Steven's shoulder in a silent plea, and Steven looked over to see the STRIKE team leader Rumlow stalking around the barrier like a frustrated cat. "You think they're going to help, Kolya," he said. Startled laugh broke free from his chest at the defiance in the other man's eyes. "You do! Oh that is so…. Pathetic! You are nothing to them; not now! No, you're a liability, Kolya. You had to know your little impulse was going to catch up to you. Well, as you can see… it did!" Steven said softly, "they're not going to protect you, Kolya. They can't protect you. Your Papochka can't protect you this time!" wild terror dawned on Nikola's face as he finally realized who Steven was.

"It's you," he whispered, shaking his head in denial, "it can't be! You're dead; you're supposed to be dead!"

"It's seems as though reports of my demise have been… greatly exaggerated!" Steven said as he grinned, the expression looking more akin to a bearing of teeth.

"Zimniy Rytsar," Nikola breathed in terror, shaking with it and the blood loss. Steven just bore his teeth again and spread his arms wide showing off his full form.

"In the flesh," Steven quipped, and his flashing grin slowly faded to the cold steel blankness there was before. "Now give me the truth, Nikola," he demanded, "before I take my pound of flesh for what you did to me out of you!" Steven pulled up the layers on the barrier, muting the sound. "Where is my Ada?"

The man shook for a few seconds quaking in mute terror, before Steven saw the very second his resolve crumbled like dust.

"It's an old bank, in the city," he said, tears streaking down his face, "I don't know where it is. They never let me see the location. I was brought there in a blacked out van with my head covered. They don't trust anyone."

'It seems as though they finally learned,' Steven thought wryly as a chuckle built up in his chest. A wild grin pulled at his face and he began to laugh.

"I got more information out of your son than you," he said, and quickly saw when the information hit home, and the realization sunk in. A wicked smile pulled on Steven's face before he looked up to the nearest camera. Misha was watching, Steven knew. He always watched. "You can't run from me anymore, Misha." Soon enough Steven's laugh begins to sound slightly unhinged, as he turned back to Nikola's trembling form. The laugh dried up soon enough as he brought his gun to bear. Steven could hear them pounding on the barrier but he ignored them. "Увидимся в аду, Никола," (See you in hell, Nikola) he said before putting his last bullet in Nikola's head.

Then next few moments seemed frozen, as Steven turned to look at Steve and the STRIKE team he had held at bay. His face was blank and cold, his eyes piercing in intensity as he raked his gaze over each one, before his eyes meet Steve's, and stop. For a moment Steven held his gaze seeing the shock and horror there that was slowly turning into resolve. Steven gave him his old "Bucky" smirk, before he turned and dashed for the nearest window, throwing out a hand to crack the glass and crash through it and down a single story to drop onto the entry way roof. There was a reason Steven picked that room. Strategically placed, it was the only room that had access to the entry roof without having to go through several levels of glass or down several stories. The minute his boots hit the glass and metal roof he softened the blow to prevent his weight, slight though it was, from breaking the glass, and ran down across the roof to the edge. He quickly threw out a repelling line built into his suit with his powers and fast repelled down next to his motorcycle.

This had all happened within the span of less than a minute, and by the time SHIELD had even begun to react, Steven was across the bridge and had disappeared into the traffic of DC.

TBC…

End note: I am so, so sorry this took so long. This chapter was an absolute pain to write. It did not want to come, and to be fair I had no desire to get into this dark headspace.

This muse was elusive, and painful, but it is done.

The next is going to be bloodier than the last few, so yeah: reader's discretion is advised.

Next up: Getting Answers, Getting Closure