Avengers: Search for the Winter Soldier

Ch. 15

A New Beginning

Summary: Steve spends some time alone with the Winter Soldier and tries to connect with his old friend.

The Soldier looked down at the plate in front of him and then to Steve. Steve looked at the Soldier, as if expecting him to say something, and then realized he was simply waiting for a cue to begin, so he picked up his fork and began to eat. The Soldier then looked at Natasha; she gave him a smile and she also began to eat. The Soldier then looked across the table to Dr. Golden who was sitting at the next table facing him. She simply watched him with interest but had no plate in front of her.

He looked at the other table where Wanda was now seated with the others, just as they were when the trio had first entered the room. Clint sipped his coffee and then gave the Soldier a nod; the Soldier stared at him for a long moment. Sam looked relaxed but met the Soldier's stare evenly. When he glanced to Wanda, she smiled again so his gaze lingered on her again.

Steve reached out with his fork and tapped it on the edge of the Soldier's plate. The sound of it caused the Soldier to startle; he jumped and spun around and Steve froze. The Soldier stared at him for a moment, obviously at a more heightened state of alertness than he'd been a moment ago. His eyes held an intensity they hadn't seen since the first couple of days of his arrival. His whole system had instantly responded to the unknown sound; his pupils dilated even further than they had been due to the drugs in his system, his heart rate obviously sped up which was evidenced by his heightened respirations as his lungs demanded more oxygen for the elevated blood supply now coursing through his veins. He and Steve stared at one another and when the blonde man didn't make another move, the Soldier then dropped his gaze to see the fork still being held near his plate.

Dr. Golden found his reaction to the sound very interesting. She'd watched video recordings of the Soldier in action and recalled how bullets would impact right beside him and he'd barely flinched; explosions going off around him and quite close to him at times and he never startled or cringed – because those were sounds he was used to and sounds that he expected. The tapping of a metal fork on a china plate was completely alien to him and it was that innocent action that had caused an intense startle response.

"I'm sorry," Steve said to him. "I was just trying to get your attention… before it gets cold."

The Soldier realized the fork being tapped against his plate was a signal for him to begin eating, so he picked up his fork and began to work at his meal with precision and focus. He glanced around now and again to watch Steve or Natasha's hands as they worked through their own meals. Dr. Golden noted that whenever Steve would break from the action of cutting into his meal to take a drink the Soldier followed suit, using Steve's action as a cue.

Every now and again, he'd lift his attention from eating to look at each person in the room as if taking note of who was there, where they were, and what they were doing. For the most part, every person in the room was watching him and he met each of their gazes straight on. Dr. Golden found that interesting in itself; there had been moments in the past few days when he seemed to fear making eye contact and at other times, like now, he had no issue whatsoever with meeting each person's gaze with a direct stare of his own.

Every time he looked at Wanda, the young witch simply smiled at him. That action always made him linger on her; Golden took note of that as well. She wasn't sure if it was because Wanda was an unknown female or if it was simply the sincerity in her smile that caught his attention. Wanda was much younger than the rest of the Avengers and, although she was one of the more powerful meta-humans she'd ever met, Wanda still displayed a sense of innocence that even Emily could see in her smile; perhaps it was that innocence that gave him pause.

As Steve and Natasha enjoyed their breakfast, Dr. Golden kept her eye on the Soldier. It was difficult to think of him as Sgt. Barnes at this point as it was clear to her that the man in front of her displayed nothing at all that once was James Barnes. Steve had shared so many things about his childhood with Bucky Barnes by his side and it was really difficult for her to see this Soldier as that man.

When Steve was finished with his meal he laid the fork across the plate and wiped his mouth with his napkin. The Soldier watched him and laid down his fork as well. Dr. Golden watched him to see if he would mimic exactly what Steve had done, but he didn't. He did put his fork down but he didn't pick up his napkin; he simply watched Steve for a new cue.

Natasha was still finishing her meal as she watched her two companions. Steve looked at her and she smiled at him.

"I think we're going to go for a walk," Steve mentioned to no one in particular.

Natasha nodded and took a sip of her juice. "That sounds like a great idea. Show him the garden… the dock is always peaceful too," she mentioned with a grin.

Steve nodded. "Good idea," he replied then looked to the Soldier who was still watching him. "Feel like going for a walk outside?"

The Soldier's gaze shifted as he thought about the question then looked back at Steve unsure if he was actually expecting him to answer. Instead of a verbal response, because he wasn't sure if he was really expected to reply, he gave a hesitant single nod.

"Great," Steve said and stood up. The Soldier looked up at him from his seat. "Come on, I'll find you some clothes to wear." The Soldier glanced at Dr. Golden and Natasha and, when they didn't oppose Steve's suggestion, he stood up. "We'll see you guys later," Steve said and gestured for the Soldier to follow him.

The Soldier glanced around at the other people in the room as if expecting someone to oppose what was being suggested. The blonde man turned away from him and the Soldier wondered if he was being tested or if the blonde trusted him enough to turn his back on him. That was rarely a good idea.

As the Soldier glanced around and then followed Steve toward the door, Sam sat up a little straighter. He kept his eye on the Soldier as he headed for the door. Just before he stepped out to follow Steve, he turned back to scan the group watching him once more. Then he disappeared out the door.

"He may be lowering his guard a little too quickly with that guy," Sam mentioned to the others.

Natasha looked at him, understanding where he was coming from with that thought, but felt Steve knew what he was doing. "I think he'll be okay," she told Sam. "Steve can take care of himself… and he knows we're here if he needs us."

"Yeah?" Sam questioned, "because the last two times we all went up against that guy, it took all of us to take him down."

"I don't know," Natasha offered. "He seems more confused at the moment than dangerous. He keeps watching Steve for cues on how to behave or how to respond to different things," she told him.

"I noticed that too," Dr. Golden said with a nod.

"Or it could be subterfuge," Sam mentioned. "Get us to lower our guard…"

Dr. Golden considered that as well and so did the rest of the team. She then turned to Natasha. "I have some questions I'd like to ask you," she said. "Would you mind coming to my office?"

"Sure," Nat told her. "When would you like to meet?"

"Right now, if you're available," Golden replied.

"Yeah, sure, I've got no plans," Nat said and slid out of her seat. She stood up and waited for Emily to join her.

Steve opened the door to his apartment inside Avengers Headquarters and gestured for the Soldier to enter ahead of him. The Soldier looked at Steve and then peered beyond the door to see what awaited him. No soldiers or shock troops, no immersion chair or "lightning station". It looked harmless enough, so he stepped inside but was alert for anything.

Steve watched him as he took his time to determine that the room was clear of dangers or threats and then followed him inside and closed the door. "Make yourself at home," he invited his guest but the Soldier shot him a look and Steve paused, realizing he probably had no idea what that meant. "Sorry," he offered. "Just… have a look around if you like," he corrected. "I'm going to grab a few things and see what fits you."

The Soldier remained where he was standing as Steve disappeared into another room. He did look around the room, but stayed planted in the spot he was left in before his handler disappeared.

The blonde man came back a few minutes later carrying a small stack of folded clothes. He watched as the man set the stack down on a chair. Steve looked over at him and noticed his feet were still bare as he stood there in the hospital pajamas he'd donned earlier.

"Socks… why do I keep forgetting socks and…" he said, mostly to himself and went back to his room.

He came back with a pair of socks and a pair of briefs. He set them on the back of the chair and picked up a pair of jeans. He let them unfold and looked at them and then to the Soldier trying to gauge if they'd fit him. Steve shrugged.

"The other pair fit you so I'm going to assume these will fit too," he told the Soldier. "Come over here," he said.

The Soldier walked to Steve as instructed.

"Go ahead and put those on," he said, gesturing to the briefs and the pair of socks.

The Soldier looked down at the items and then pulled the pajama top up over his head and dropped it to the floor. Then he stripped off the bottoms and stood there naked for a moment.

Steve couldn't stop himself from taking in the sight of the man in front of him. His whole body was covered with scars healed over and bruises that were in different stages of healing. The freshest ones were from their battle a few days ago; Steve wondered what he'd done to gain the others. The Soldier's chest, arms and legs were massive in size compared to Steve's memory of Bucky decades earlier. Of course, there was also the metal arm that had been shoved into his shoulder and the ugly scars that had grown over the edges of it.

"Geez-us," Steve breathed out without realizing he'd actually voiced his dismay in what they had done to his friend.

The Soldier glanced at him but hadn't moved once he'd kicked the bottoms off his feet. Steve reached over to pick up the briefs and handed them to him. The Soldier took them and pulled them on without an issue. Steve handed him a pair of jeans and the Soldier pulled them on and secured them.

"Looks like you and I are about the same size," Steve mentioned as he took note that the pants fit Barnes perfectly. He picked up the shirt he'd brought out and unfolded it. It was a short sleeved Henley, a deep red in color with three buttons on the front.

The Soldier just looked at it and Steve realized he wasn't going to say whether he liked it or not, and didn't know if the Soldier even cared what he wore. It was glaringly apparent that his life was spent doing what he was told to do and wearing what he was given to wear. Steve handed the shirt to the Soldier and watched as the other man flipped it around to figure out the front and the top then pulled it over his head and put his arms through the sleeves.

The material of the left sleeve appeared to bind up on the wide metal shoulder and the Soldier pulled at it trying to get it straightened out. He reached up and tore the shirt at the shoulder seam with his fingers and then swung his arm up and around to test its range of movement. It no longer got bound up in the material so he seemed agreeable to it. It didn't seem to matter to him that the material was stretched tightly across his massive chest, deforming the shirt's original shape.

"So much for that shirt," Steve muttered and then gestured for the Soldier to take a seat on the chair. When the Soldier sat down, Steve handed him the pair of socks and, as he began to put them on, Steve went to find a pair of shoes for him.

Dr. Golden closed the door and then took her seat on the couch as Natasha settled on the other end of it. She picked up a notebook and pen and turned to face the Widow.

"I asked you here hoping to get some details about your escape from the KGB and your own recovery from the conditioning you underwent," Golden explained. "I'm hoping that you can give me some detail regarding a timeline or what we can expect as we move forward with the Soldier's recovery."

"I'm not sure how I can help you with that," Natasha told her. "I don't think anyone actually recovers from that sort of thing. We can get past it… and move on from it… but it's still with me every day."

"Of course," Dr. Golden realized she'd misspoken.

"I can't really help you with that in regards to Sgt. Barnes," Nat told her. "My conditioning was more of a lifestyle. I was taken by the KGB as an infant."

Dr. Golden was shocked by that detail. She knew the KGB brought girls into their Black Widow program as young as six years old, but she had no idea they had taken infants.

"So I grew up in the Red Room. It was my life. It was the only life I knew and I was well cared for… well, as far as I knew," she said with a sardonic grin and shrugged.

"Okay… so the biggest difference between the two of you is that they didn't have to vanquish your free will like they did Barnes," Golden suggested. "You didn't know the situation you were in wasn't normal. He did know and fought against it."

"True," Nat said. "But there's much more than just our ages when taken that differ, there were huge differences in our training and conditioning. My training and conditioning was done solely through psychological torture. They trained me and re-wired my brain through psychological and emotional abuse… as well as physical abuse.

"We both were physically altered against our will… we were both tortured and brainwashed to do our masters' bidding, but that's where our similarities end.

"Sgt. Barnes was an adult male – an American fighting man – captured in battle and experimented on. It took decades of extreme torture and subjugation attempts on Barnes to get control of him and, even then, they didn't have complete control. They went above and beyond with him… they tortured him and altered his brain functions with drugs and electro-shock.

"I was simply raised in the lifestyle and if I disobeyed there were punishments. The Winter Soldier came into existence by chemically altering his brain. I couldn't even guess as to what it's going to take, or how long it will take, to free him of that. I don't even know if it's possible."

Dr. Golden nodded. Even with their differences, she still felt that Natasha was going to be a huge asset going forward. Her experiences were close enough in similarity to his that she could be a strong empathetic ally to the Soldier and to Barnes through his recovery.

Steve returned with a pair of work boots and put them on the floor at the Soldier's feet. "Try those on for size," he told him.

The Soldier put the boots on and tied them up then stood up to face the blonde man. Steve looked at him for a few moments. Now, wearing civilian clothes and not weighed down by a dozen weapons, the man standing in front of him looked just like his old pal. Except for the long hair, the scrub of beard… the metal arm… and the disconnected expression… Steve was able to look past all of that to see Bucky standing in front of him. He looked really tired… and empty. Steve pushed those thoughts away.

"Are you ready?" he asked the Soldier.

The Soldier stared at him with a blank expression for a few seconds and then replied, "Ya gotova vetchiet." The words droned out of his mouth in the gravelly tone of the Winter Soldier.

"I don't speak Russian," he told the Soldier again.

The Soldier's blank expression shifted to a pained look. As if speaking a language other than Russian would cause him trouble, but he repeated his words in English for his new handler. "Ready to comply," he told the blonde man.

"What?" Steve said, surprised. "No… no, you don't need to comply," he told the Soldier.

The Soldier's expression deepened to confusion. His eyes focused inward as he tried to figure out what his response should have been. He kept his gaze toward the floor and swallowed thickly, as if waiting for punishment to come.

"We're okay," Steve told him, trying to reassure him. The Soldier glanced at him but dropped his gaze again. "Hey," Steve said and waited for the Soldier to look at him again. It took a few more seconds for him to realize his handler was bidding for his attention and he raised his eyes to look at him. "We're good," Steve told him. "Ready to go?" he asked. The Soldier looked down at himself as if to check if he was ready and then back at Steve. "We're ready," Steve told him with a nod. "Let's go."

The Soldier followed him out the door and down the hall. Steve decided to take the elevator to the ground floor and the Soldier simply followed Steve's directions without question. He followed him across the lobby and out the door. He paused for a moment when the sun hit him and took a moment to acclimate to the brightness of the sunny day. Steve waited for him to get his bearings and, when the Soldier looked to him, he gave a nod and began to walk across the grass.

The Soldier followed the blonde man, looking around the grounds as he walked down the path. When they reached a shaded area under a Japanese maple tree, the blonde man stopped and turned to him. The Soldier looked at him and then around the immediate area as if waiting for an ambush of some kind. Was this a training ground? Was he being set up for an evaluation? He didn't sense any other people out there with them; there were no sounds of anyone creeping around behind the bushes; he listened for the distinct sounds of knives being unsheathed or the clapping sound made when a combat rifle changed positions in a combatant's hands, or the metallic clink of sling hooks as a weapon is dropped from its resting position slung over a shoulder. There was no smell of gun oil or explosive devices or sweat; it was as it seemed. It was just a garden.

The Soldier now turned his attention to the area around him with a different focus; he became aware of the warmth of the sun and the light breeze that came through now and again. The soft breeze caressed his face and rustled his hair. He felt its cooling touch against his skin as it went through the material of the clothes he now wore. Only then did he realize how much his usual uniform served to separate him from his surroundings; the leather boots, gloves and jacket; the thick, heavily padded pants; the mask and goggles. The only part of his body that was ever not covered was the top of his head, as he was normally kept covered from his eyebrows to his toes. He now stood there deeply focused on the sensations and taking a moment to memorize how it felt, hoping he wouldn't have to forget it too soon.

Steve watched him as he seemed to be completely engrossed in their surroundings. The Soldier was clearly focused on the soft breeze as it washed over them. Steve watched him close his eyes and inhale deeply as a breeze came through. Steve realized that his friend hadn't even been allowed to enjoy the feel of a breeze against his skin in all the years he'd been held captive. It was just one more thing to add to the sadness of the entire ordeal they now faced. He waited, letting the Soldier have the moment and waited for him to open his eyes.

"Have a seat," he invited the other man, gesturing to a bench nearby.

The Soldier complied with the instruction. He sat on the edge of the bench with his back perfectly straight as if at attention. His forearms rested against his thighs with his hands curled into fists. He did not look relaxed at all, but Steve didn't feel he was in a hyper alert state either; just unable to completely drop his guard.

Steve lowered himself onto a bench just a few feet away facing the Soldier. He wanted to be close enough to talk to him without crowding him. They sat together in silence for a minute, Steve watched the Soldier as he glanced around as much as he could while barely turning his head.

"I'd like to ask you some questions, if that's okay," Steve told him.

The Soldier turned his attention to the man but didn't respond. He didn't understand why the handler kept asking if his intentions were acceptable to him. Handlers did as they saw fit to do with him. He had no say in whether they could or not.

Steve realized that the Soldier was not going to tell him whether it was okay with him or not, so he decided to just begin.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

The Soldier's gaze shifted slightly as if confused by the question. It was an unusual question. He didn't know how to respond to that. Who cared how he was feeling? Nobody ever asked him that. It wasn't important how he was feeling. He felt nothing most of the time and the few moments when he did feel something he pushed it away and buried it. His feelings were of no importance except for how it might affect the mission. It had to be a trick question. They were trying to trick him into behaving in a manner in which he was not allowed. He raised his eyes and looked back at his handler in silence.

Steve waited a few moments to see if he was going to answer and when it became apparent that he wasn't going to answer that question, he moved on.

"Do you know where you are?"

The Soldier glanced around stiffly and then shook his head to indicate no.

"You're in New York," Steve told him.

The Soldier's brow knitted together. New York sounded familiar and he was trying to figure out why. Steve watched him closely. It appeared he'd gotten a reaction from the Soldier but he couldn't tell if he remembered New York or was just simply confused as to why he was in New York and not Austria or Germany or Russia.

"Do you know what year it is?" Steve asked.

The Soldier swallowed and pursed his lips together tightly. He had no idea what year it was and didn't know why it would matter. He did his job when he was told to do it, he did his job the way he was told to do it; it didn't matter where or when. He figured if he was supposed to know such details, they would tell him. He wondered now if they had told him and he simply forgot. Was he supposed to know? He steeled himself and shook his head no again.

"The year is 2016," Steve told him.

The Soldier blinked and Steve could tell the information had a profound effect on him. It was as if he didn't know whether to believe that information or not or how to handle it if it was true. He knew that each time he was awakened from his cryo-chamber the world outside seemed to have grown and changed and moved on without him, but he would never have guessed…

Steve waited for him to process that information. It was extremely easy for him to see that the Soldier was working out that information. Bucky had always been very expressive and Steve could see the changing emotions displayed on his face. It was very easy to follow and Steve felt sorry for his friend.

In his mind's eye, the Soldier could see flashes of images from a past he couldn't remember; a calendar tacked to a wall that read i1943/i and then the image in his head changed to show him the front page of a newspaper; it had a photo of a group of soldiers standing together as if in victory; the headline read 'Victory at Normandy!' and the date was… July 24, 1944. He blinked to push the images away from his vision and he glanced at the man sitting in front of him.

"Do you know who you are?" Steve asked him carefully, keeping his voice soft and his tone even.

"Zimni Soldat," the Soldier answered easily without hesitation.

Steve lowered his head and closed his eyes. He took a moment to gather his own wits and shook his head slightly. He raised his head and looked directly into the Soldier's eyes.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

"Novyy obrabotchik," the Soldier responded.

"I don't speak Russian," Steve told him quietly. The Soldier's brow furrowed as if not understanding why he didn't speak the language. "English," Steve told him, recalling Natasha's handling of him. "Speak English."

The Soldier looked at him. He gave a single nod, a signal that he understood his instruction then he replied in English, "New handler."

Steve's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He shook his head, trying to figure out how to get through to his friend who was locked inside the Soldier sitting in front of him. He wanted to tell the Soldier that he was not his handler, but he chose not to in case that knowledge might cause a negative response; such as, attacking him to escape.

It was a double edged sword, Steve realized; he wanted to break his friend out of the conditioning he'd been subjected to by diffusing his reality slowly, but by doing so, he may put them all at risk.

"I want you to talk to me, when you feel you need to," Steve told him and the Soldier looked at him again with a confused expression. "If you have questions… about… anything," Steve told him, "I want you to feel free to ask me. Okay?"

The Soldier didn't respond, he just kept looking at Steve as if the man had lost his mind. He wondered again if he was being tested. New compound, new handlers, new routine; he wondered what they were prepping him for.

"Do you understand?" Steve asked him.

The Soldier nodded, but still looked uncertain.

"I know you understand what I'm saying, but do you understand that I really do want you to ask me anything… any question you have, you can ask me. Understand?" Steve told him.

The Soldier nodded again but had no intention of asking any questions at this point.

"Do you have any questions you want to ask me?" Steve asked.

The Soldier just looked at him. He didn't attempt to say anything so Steve decided to continue, to see if he could lead him toward asking a question.

"Are you sleeping okay?" Steve asked. He knew the answer to that but he wanted to see what the Soldier thought of the time he spent sleeping… or not sleeping.

The Soldier dropped his gaze again and thought about the question. Perhaps this was the purpose of this new program. They must be expecting things to change with him as they changed his surroundings and his normal routine. Steve waited patiently, not knowing if he was going to answer, but gave him the time he needed to think about the question fully.

"I have dreams," the Soldier finally replied.

Again, Steve was stunned momentarily. The Soldier made the statement with such finality; as if he was reporting a fact of a mission or a complication with his conditioning.

"That's understandable," Steve told him. "You've been through a lot… for a long time."

The Soldier looked over at him as if weighing what the man said. Was the handler trying to see if he would complain about his treatment? This was a test; it had to be. After a long moment of thought he said, "I don't dream."

"Never?" Steve asked.

The Soldier shook his head slowly. "There are no dreams in cryo."

"Oh," Steve replied. He hadn't considered that before.

"When will I go back?" he asked. He didn't like the dreams he was having and, as much as he used to think he didn't like the freeze chamber, he now realized he didn't like the dreams more.

"Go back?" Steve asked for clarification.

"To cryo," he answered. Then he stared into the blue eyes of his new handler and hoped the answer would be 'soon'.

"Umm… we don't have a cryo-chamber here," Steve told him.

The Soldier frowned and looked back at the large edifice from which they had come.

Steve kept an eye on him as he didn't know how the Soldier would react to any information given to him. Everything at the compound was unknown to him and he seemed to be accustomed to the routine he'd had with Hydra's handlers. As the Soldier looked at the large building, Steve heard his earwig open and Dr. Golden's voice filled his ear.

"Captain Rogers? When you're ready, could you bring our guest to my office? I'd like to conduct a brief evaluation."

"Sure," Steve said aloud. "We'll be there in a few minutes."

The Soldier turned his head to look at him. He openly scanned Steve as if trying to locate his communications device. Steve just smiled briefly and stood up. The Soldier looked up at him.

"Time to go back inside," Steve told him.

The Soldier stood up without hesitation or an argument. He followed the handler back toward the building. They got back into the elevator and the blonde man pushed the 'up' arrow.

Steve was becoming quite aware that the Soldier watched every move he made. He wasn't getting the sense that the Soldier was looking for weakness or a chance to take him down. It seemed to Steve that the Soldier was learning his new routine and what he was expected to do in each room they went to.

Well, he figured, if he had to lead by example then that's what he was going to do. He really didn't mind that, to be honest. If he could gradually help Bucky come back to a more normal life by letting him shadow him everywhere, then that's what he'd do.

The elevator car came to a stop and the Soldier looked up to see what floor they were on. He didn't see numbers lit up or any other symbol to indicate what floor they were on; all he knew was they went up from the ground floor. Steve looked at him and watched as the Soldier searched the front of the elevator. Steve realized he was trying to see what floor they had stopped on, but Tony had designed them to be operable only by bio-identification which he programmed into all the accesses to the Avengers compound. That safety measure meant that, even if he knew what floor they were on, the Soldier wouldn't be able to access the elevator or use it to escape or to ambush the team members.

The doors opened and the Soldier looked to the blonde man. He saw that the man was watching him and he straightened, looking directly ahead. The blonde man stepped out and the Soldier followed him down the hall. He stopped in front of a wooden door and knocked on it. A woman's voice from inside invited them in.

"Come in."

TBC'd