Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Желание"

Handler Karpov's voice reverberated through the Asset's ears. A call to action. подчиняться.

Tension shot into the Asset's rigid stance. подчиняться. Follow commands, подчиняться, подчиняться. Follow the правило.

Cow's skin, sharp crack, hot sting, torn skin, blood.

The Winter Soldier has no "wants". The Asset is a weapon. It is not human.

подчиняться.

"Ржавый"

Disused.

Throw it away.

Old dog, no tricks.

Dangerous.

Uncontrollable.

Put it back.

Weapon.

Subdue it.

Cryostasis.

Submission.

Control.

Any means nessecary.

"Семнадцать"

White gloved hands splayed across his whole body. 17 doctors. White coats fluttering around him.

Pressure on the feet, calves, thighs, stomach, chest, arm, neck, head. Hands touching. Forceful pressure keeping the Asset down as they sawed-

A muzzle, clamping the Asset's mouth shut. His It's screams of anguish muffled, but still filling the chamber over the doctors' excited mutterings.

One by one their needles' viles emptied.

"Рассвет"

The temperature in the chamber seemed to release. The frozen fog-like cloud sinks to the ground. Like being doused in boiling water, the Asset wakes abruptly. It's screams always fill the chamber until a Soldier silences him. They find the butt of a rifle works well.

The Asset is transported to the chair. это путь.

"Печь"

The small rivets ripped into the mangled flesh of what was left of its arm as the saw was drug back and forth along the shoulder.

Orders were barked out in Russian, a bone saw was placed in the doctor's hand.

'он в сознании'

The Asset has never known sleep while under a doctor's scrutiny.

Pain is punishment.

The Asset needn't remember. The Asset doesn't know how to prevent the saw.

Burning metal rods molded with the кость. Follow the Handler. Comply.

Necessity is what gave the Asset its arm.

удовлетворять.

"Девять"

'слава гидре'

The soldiers, his Handler included, all shared in this phrase.

Hydra- Mythological monster, slayed by Heracles. A serpent-like water monster with nine heads. The Hydra had the ability to regrow 2 heads for every 1 cut off.

The Asset knew Hydra was his Handler's affiliated organization. Hydra was inadequate at utilizing the Asset. A weapon that has many functions is difficult to use, but with proper handling it can be a tool that brings power and control.

Hydra may have the ability to regrow heads, but if you burn it at it's roots it will die.

"Добросердечный"

защищать. Follow the protocol. The Asset's internal wiring makes the Asset protect its Handler. The Handler is always right and true. защищать or die. Never fight back, obey. The Handler is the weapon's reason for being. Without a Handler the Asset means nothing. The Asset should be deactivated.

"Возвращение на Родину"

Always return to the Handler after a mission.

Betrayal or disobedience leads to punishment. Metal cuffs hold him down to the chair the pads dig into its temple. Electricity archs through its body, it writhes in pain. Muscles cramped to the point of tearing with every small move. It jetks too hard and it's remaining arm makes a popping sound as it is ripped from its socket. It has a mouth guard so it doesn't break its jaw again. It's whole body burns and seizes as the volts make their way through until its mind is numb and nothing exists.

"Один"

The Asset works alone more often than not.

There was only one time when that wasn't true. His Mission. Captain Steve Rogers.

Hydra was planning to get rid of the Asset.

But I knew him.

"Товарный вагон"

Wind whipping around the Asset's body.

A hand reached out.

He slipped.

As it's body neared the ground it grasped a rock to lessen the impact.

Something tore off as it was jerked into a slower descent.

Agony.

Blood red snow.

Darkness.

"солдат."

"я готов отвечать"

Chapter Text

Bang!

The Hydra agent faceplanted into the floor, a bullet splitting his skull. The left side of his head crushed as the Asset's boot came down, the brain matter turning into a pink slush as the Asset stomped.

"дайте мені повний доступ." [Give me full access.] The Asset growled at the only remaining scientists. The knees of his brown jeans becoming a deep red as the pools of blood trickled toward him. His face paling farther as he glanced over at the other two who died first. One's tongue cut, he bled out. The other's chest caved in under the pressure of the Asset's metal arm.

He gulped, "не роби мені боляче." [Don't hurt me.]

The Asset's eyes narrowed, "Смерть буде швидкою." [Death will be quick.]

He hesitated for a moment, but the memory of his comrades' screams helped him to pick his chin up and nod. The Winter Soldier promising a quick death was better than finding out what Hydra would do to him instead.

Winter hauled him to his feet and he stumbled over to the computer. "сім крові чорний череп"

The Soldier typed the words in. Access Granted.

"стерти дані," [delete the data] he ordered, "де літаки? відкритий ангар." [Where are the planes? Open the hangar.]

His bound hands were freed, but a knife was placed against his jugular. No betrayal or else. He quickly did as the Asset demanded. "ліворуч, вниз по коридору, 8 двері ліворуч." [Left, down the hall, 8th door on the left.]

The last thing the scientist saw was the reflection of the Soldier's metal arm on the screen.

Blood and pieces of pink mush hung off the Asset's metal arm. It pulled its hand out from the hole created in the man's head. A dangling eyeball snapped off and rolled to the floor. It stared up at the Asset's retreating back as the Soldier turned hdown the hall and out of the sight of the unseeing eye.

The thrusters on the AV-8B ignited and it took to the skies, various weaponry, tools, supplies, money, and food filling its cargo hold. Minor turbulence was felt as the base behind it detonated and went up in flames.

Chapter Text

Setting down near Charleston Lake in Canada was the safest choice for a hidden landing. Of course, the Asset had no illusion that SHIELD and the US government wouldn't be suspicious of the AV-8B's landing spot. However, by the time any agents would arrive, both Winter and the aircraft would be long gone.

The Asset hauled the two massive duffel bags over his shoulders and set out through the woods. Mud caked on the Asset's boots, bugs buzzed around the blood on its clothes, biting, twigs tangled in its hair. The sun went down, but the Asset kept its steady pace.

Periodically the Asset would climb a tree and travel above ground for a few miles before switching again, making it more difficult for anyone to track his winding trail.

The scent of blood attracted a few coyotes. A bullet silenced them.

Daybreak came and the moon went with it. The Asset trecked on.

It encountered the first major issue. The St. lawrence River.

Normally, as protocol for missions would state, the Asset would be expected to dive into the water and swim across.

However, there was precious cargo in his duffel bag. Cargo that, if it got submerged, it would surely perish and be destroyed.

A red notebook with frayed edges and a deep red star, the pages yellowed with time.

A manual for Winter. His next Handler would want it.

Winter moved closer to a Canadian town and waited.

17 hours passed until he spotted one. A civilian vessel being prepped for passage.

The boat was small. Used for recreational fishing and swim parties. There would be near no place to hide.

Winter slipped aboard and hid on the ceiling of the navigational room an 42 minutes later it was solidly afloat on the water when the Asset made its move.

The Assset tilted one of the bags off its back, scaring the owner of the vessel enough to yelp. The Asset's metal hand wrapped around his mouth, a knife pressed to his neck, "Sit and be silent."

The captain, hands raised, nodded and sat in the chair. He was tied up and blindfolded. If he was lucky a coastguard or one of the residents on the American side would come and save him.

The Soldier docked the boat and ran. There were too many houses. Too many possible eyes. Dangerous. Risky.

25 hours to treck to Stark Falls Resivoir. 16 minutes to set up a scouting point to peer through a scope at the Avengers compound.

Directly into the Asset's to-be Handler's room. The Winter Soldier watched as he left and then waited, and waited, and waited. 53 hours 12 minutes 38 seconds. Winter's new Handler had yet to re-enter his room since he left. The Mission has gone on 3 runs, each time nearing closer and closer to the Asset's location.

The average adult human requires at least 6 to 8 hours of sleep each night to be able to function at an acceptable rate. Prognosis: impending collapse. The Handler requires maintenance. Intervention approved by protocol. Move in with caution, stay unseen even by Handler if possible.

The Asset stowed his rifle in the duffel bag, only taking 2 pistols, 4 extra cartridges, and 19 knives. Before creeping close Winter did a mental check. Operational capacity: near perfect. Hibernation or cryostasis required in the near future. Injury status: All but 1 gun shot healed, possible infection. Medical attention required soon. Memory progression: Not ne- Stevie. Complete wipe required... eventually.

Ready to proceed.

The Asset crept closer and closer to the building. Cameras spotted. Two bullets dislodged them form their position. The Soldier scaled the wall up to the window of the empty room of the new Handler. Following his scent would be the best course of action for locating the Handler.

Winter followed the smell of motor oil and stale coffee that seemed to permeate the room. After listening for any sounds of other inhabitants, the Soldier crept down the hall silently. Several turns and 3 staircases later, it arrived at a pair of sliding glass doors. It had been suspiciously easy for a supposed secure facility, including the cameras he was able to avoid.

Peering inside, the weapon found its Handler slumped over his desk. Protect the Handler.

The Asset moved to hack into the pannel, but the doors slid open willingly. Possible danger of walking into a trap, but the Handler must come first.

The Soldier crept over to its Handler, forcing its eyes not to roam over all the technology in the lab. The Handler was breathing and had a pulse. Good.

Careful not to jostle him, the Asset lifted its new Handler into its arms. Sleeping in a bed will reduce the Handler's pain or aches. The Asset began its way back up the stairs. As the Asset was 'tucking' Handler Stark in, a buzzing noise clostened through the floor.

A red android, the one that had helped the Asset's Mission and Handler in the fight against the robots. "Tony, Friday informed me that you were attempting something danger- Oh, hello."

The Asset and the android stared at each other. Distraction. A knife flew at the red man as the Asset fled through the window. An alarm sounded. The Asset ran faster.

Someone began dropping onto his back. The Asset grabbed her legs and swung her away. Natalia. The Black Widow. Deserter, capture or kill on sight.

The Asset grabbed two knives and locked blades with her as she came rushing back at him. Winter blocked the leg that came flying at it and returned with a kick as it's knife came arching down towards her throat.

She jumped back and drew a hand gun. Seven rounds were quickly emptied and the Winter Soldier was forced to take cover in the trees.

Just as the Asset began to drop down onto her back, knife poised for the kill, its body jerked to a stop. Red magic surrounded Winter, controlling its limbs and tightening slowly.

"Should we take him back to interrogation?" Came the witches Slokovian drawl, "Or should I check his mind directly?"

Natalia blew a hair out of her face, "disarm him and bring him back. Steve will want to see him directly. This is his Bucky."

Recognition lit up in the redhead's eyes and she nodded. The Asset tried to squirm as its weapons were confiscated by more of that wispy red magic. A deep growl was silenced by the red tightening around its throat.

The Asset thrashed harder and the witch winced.

The two women took him back to the compound, the big "common room". The blond man was there. Captain America, Steve Rogers - Mission Target, eliminate. Asset has deviated from code. Stevie. Protect Mission, scrawny (?) brother (???). Big Steve can take some hits. A light stabbing is within parameters. Watch his left. Punk.

The Asset's head pounds.

"Buck."

The Asset growled.

"Can you put him down?"

Fuckn' idiot.

"Steve, are you sure that's a wise decision?" The red headed spy cautioned.

Stevie beamed at the Asset, "Since when have I ever really thought things out?"

You can say that again, dipshit. Stupid Mission.

The witch hesitated, glancing at the other woman. Natalia nodded, clearly displeased but knowing arguing with the captain was a losing battle.

The Asset was made on the ground and immediately bolted.

"Ouf-" the sound escaped Winter, the force of the Mission's tackle knocking it free. Heavy ass-

His arms wrapped around the Asset, "Bucky, please don't go. I know you've been watching us for a few days and I gave you space, but you're here now. I don't want to lose you agai- Ow! You fucking jerk!"

The Asset bit him.

The little bit of blood drawn would be far less than lethal, but maybe the punk would finally learn. Then again, the Mission was about as stupidly hot-headed as they come.

"Hey! Let him go!" The new voice commanded.

Stark.

Immediately the Asset's teeth unlatched from Steve's arm. 

Ready to comply.

"Captain, I get you want to cuddle your Bucky Bear, but, in case you haven't noticed, he is covered in blood and is in dire need of some TLC. So how about you let him go, we put your widdle stuffie in the wash and then we can see if he wants to go out and play afterwards?" Stark patronized Steve, using an especially annoying baby voice to rile the other up.

The Mission's brows furrowed, "Tony-"

"Abupbupbupbup! Let the deadly assassin go and then we can talk." He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, clearly enjoying himself.

Big Steve pouted, but let go of the Asset. Yes, this Handler was a good choice.

"Alright, Mr. Murder Soldier, don't move one muscle." The Asset locked all its limbs, not daring to even blink, no less breathe. The Asset can stay in this position upwards of 7 minutes.

The Avengers bean conversing (brainstorming, debating) what to do with the Asset. When it was Handler Karpov's, aligned with HYDRA, they didn't want it to listen. Winter doesn't know the rules here. The Avengers have no say on him, though. The last voice must be Handler Stark. It listened.

Natalia wished for it to be contained and interrogated (the smartest choice, but unnecessary), the witch sided with her and offered to go in the Asset's head (no, no, no, no). A dark skinned man had walked in and scolded the two women, no going inside anyone's head. Stevie agreed, "Bucky" needed help, not an interrogation. Handler Stark was about to give his assent, when he was cut off.

"I apologize for interrupting," the android spoke up from where he stood silently, "but it has come to my attention the Sergeant James Barnes has not breathed once in the past four minutes."

"What the fuck?" Everyone's heads whipped to face where the Asset was standing completely motionless.

"Buck, you have to breathe." The Asset was not given a new order, Handler Stark's last words still stand. Motion is not permitted. "Bucky, don't do this. C'mon, take a breath." No. "Shit, Sam!"

The dark skinned man, Sam, threw his hands up, "I'm not a licensed therapist! Closest thing I can think of is my sister's baby having a breath-holding spell!"

The Mission nodded, determined, "Okay, how would we deal with that?"

"You can't be serious!"

The two continued squabbling while the Asset's Handler spoke to the ceiling, "Fri? Do you have the recording of when good Ole Sergeant over here decided to forego the use of his super-powered lungs?"

"Of course, boss." The ceiling had an Irish lilt. Information filed away for later questioning.

"Run it back and try to figure out why he quit."

The Asset's Handler is the smartest.

There were a few seconds of pause before the ceiling woman's voice spoke again, "It appears that Sergeant James Barnes only began holding his breath after you told him 'don't move one muscle'. I took initiative to take note that immediately after your words there was also a subtle shift in his body. I believe, if you were to check now, you would find Sergeant Barnes' muscles are completely locked up and tense and his eyes are most likely dried out."

Sam and Steve had stopped arguing in the middle of the dame's spiel and were now checking if her deduction was correct. It was not worth it to note that their poking tickled made it significantly more difficult to hold its breath. And not snap their prodding fingers off.

It must be a kind of torture.

"Nice catch, Friday."

The Asset was nearing its limit, its face heating up and starting to swim with the lack of oxygen.

"Thank you boss."

Passing out is a better alternative to giving up. The punishment is less severe. Hopefully, Handler Stark would be merciful and only do two more reps of this before it would be put in containment.

"Alright," Handler Stark clapped, "Frosty, yes, you, the Winter Soldier, 'need you to start breathing. C'mon, in and out. Like a self inflatable whoopie cussion."

Oh? Don't gasp. The Soldier calmly began breathing again, forcing any sign that holding its breath had been difficult. Muscle relaxation has not been permitted yet.

Handler Stark rubbed a hand down his face. Look what you've done now. "You can move as well." He grumbled to himself, "Not blinking like some sort of creepy assassin doll."

Order rescinded. Immediately the Asset loosened its muscles and blinked away the stinging dryness of its eyes. The Soldier fell into parade rest, waiting for its next direction.

The Asset's Handler drug his hand down his face again, "I do not have enough coffee for this."

Chapter Text

"Okay, so maybe I missed some memo or an email, Pepper knows I don't check those, but why did you sneak into my compound, down to my personal lab, and pick me up only to carry me upstairs and tuck me into bed?" Handler Stark had his arms crossed and was peering over his glasses. The Asset found it impressive how he perfected a look that made him appear taller. Despite only being 5'8".

The Asset took a breath before rasping out the lines it had been forced to use in a video Hydra had made of it. The Soldier feels the need to reiterate that Hydra was an organization full of incompetent idiots. Digital Footprints. Dumb idea. "The Asset is a multi-skilled weapon capable of performing in many areas including, but not limited to, infiltration, assassination, spying, undercover work, fighting, and, especially, sniping. The Asset has been programmed to follow only its Handler's instructions to its full capabilitie-"

Winter's Handler made a motion for silence, "All righty Sergeant Buckaroo, I don't know how you made reading off a manual sound threatening, but a manual is still a manual and therefore leaps and bounds out of my attention span. Just give me the Sparknotes version of it."

The Asset was unsure what the Handler was referring to Was he asking the Asset to light the notes on fire? The Soldier doesn't know where the script is, but it will find it if that is what the Handler so wishes.

Seeing the Soldier's vacillatation, Handler Stark rephrased his request, "Give me the shortened version of your spiel. You're just as bad as Captain Cold over here."

Winter nodded. Easy. "You are my new Handler."

There was a pause. "Wait, I'm what the fuck now?"

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / //////////////////////// /

Handler Stark, the Mission (No one invited you, Steve), and the Asset moved into a secluded room with only a table in it. This was clearly the table's room.

Knowing Stark's abilities, this table could also be an android. The Asset would be vigilant.

As it was, the table did not turn into some sort of robot when Handler Stark sat at one of its seats.

"So, what do you mean Tony is your 'Handler'?" Steve was crossing his arms. To the untrained eye it would appear that he was taking an intimidating stance. The Asset recognized it as pouting. Petulant child.

"The Asset's last handler was Handler Karpov before he died," Winter informed, its throat burning with overuse. "Without a Handler, the Asset is unable to function as a proper weapon."

"But why Tony?" And there it was. Stevie, why I oughta-

"As much as I am offended at Rogers' tone, I do agree. Why me?" Handler Stark questioned.

Shouldn't that be obvious? "You are the most competent and trustworthy person for the job."

He snorted, mumbling the adjectives under his breath mockingly.

"But I've known you since we were kids, why not me? Or better yet, no one at all." Definately pouting.

The Asset gave into the urdge to scoff and roll its eyes, "Get over yourself, punk." That was not according to protocol. The chair will be required soon... unless the Handler says otherwise. "Handler Stark has immeasurable experience with handling, creating, and managing dangerous weapons. He is far more capable of utilizing the Asset to its-"

Steve and Stark grimaced.

"- full spectrum of abilities. If the Mission were to be its Handler, you would try to deprogram it. You would keep the weapon from its purpose and turn it into a wall trophy." It took a deep breath before continuing (ugh), "Further, Handler Stark is capable of handling the Asset's needs such as mechanical arm maintenance, cryostasis, and operating the chair for resetting the Asset for its next mission."

The Asset swallowed down the urge to cough (uugh) as the two men digested the Soldier's words.

"Buck, you're not with Hydra anymore. You don't need to be put into an ice induced sleep to be... put away like, like some sort of tool!" The Mission stumbled over his words, reaching for the 'right' things to say.

But the Asset knew better, Steve was wrong. Winter is a weapon made into a tool for its Handler to use. Admittedly, it is the best weapon, with far better specs, a wider range of uses, obedient to a T, and it has a shiny metal arm. However, a weapon is still a tool. Further on Stevie being wrong, "Cryostas is nessecary for continued optimal operation and fewer malfunctions stemmed from lack of rest."

"Wait," Stark held his hands in a pause motion, "you can't sleep without cryostasis?"

"The asset doesn't know how to sleep." The taste of failure. Gross.

"Friday, make a list." The Asset's Handler leaned forward, focusing in on his charge, "Can you eat on your own?"

"The asset consumes the rations it is allotted."

"And that is?"

"3 ration bars for each day the mission."

"What are the ration bars exactly'

"There are some in the duffle bags in the trees southwest of here."

"Drink?"

A shock of discomfort went through the Asset (worry? Stevie, you asshole. Shut up, you're not getting taken out by a damn cold, you punk.). The Asset needs liquid and its rations. Why is he asking these things? The Asset schooled its features. Rebellious face. What if the Handler thinks the Soldier has been disobedient? "Both rations and liquid are nessecary for continued functionality."

He nodded, "Wash and dress?"

"Yes..." the Asset was staring somewhere between the Handler's eyes, "and no. Dress yes. For hygene the asset gets stripped, hosed down and then gears back up."

"How often?"

("What the fuck?" "It smells so bad." "When was the last time it was bathed?") "Before missions and whenever the Asset's scent began bothering agents enough."

The Handler blew out a breath, hands clasped in front of his mouth, "What the fuck."

Almost immediately Steve called out, "Language."

Which, excues you? That is the most hypocritical-

"Not now, Cap."

"Sorry."

"Barne- er, Asset." That was the first time the Asset's new Handler addressed it. "What did you mean by 'resetting'."

The Asset opened its mouth to answer (подчиняться [obey]), but the Mission beat Winter to it. сука. "Memory wipe. There's- it's bad. Friday are you able to open my saved files on the Winter Soldier?"

"Yes, Captain Rogers. The ones from shield?" The ceiling woman(!!!).

"Yes, could you pull up-" the table (fuck'n knew it) lit up, a paused video hovering above it, "Yes, thank you, Friday."

As the video played, everyone in the room tensed up. The Asset on the video was in the chair, screaming. The Handler clenches his fist, clearly displeased with the Asset's action in the video, "Friday, stop."

The Asset can hear its Handler's heart, beating at an irregular rapid pace. His breath came out faster than it had been before the video. The Handler must be angry, rightfully so. The Asset shouldn't act like that. Ugh.

Rather than administering punishment, Handler Stark got control of his breathing and looked the Asset dead in the eyes, "No more memory wipes. I'm- we're not Hydra. That was- that was some utter bullshit. No more chairs, no more people fucking with your head. Understood?"

"дa."

Stark peeked at Steve who nodded, "First thing we should do is get you cleaned up. I can probably find something else for you to wear. Uh, Tony, is medical...?"

"I'll see if Helen is available to check him out."

"Yeah, after your shower we'll get you checked out by Doctor Cho," the Asset nearly choked, "And find something for you to eat."

Stark suddenly looked excited as he butted in, "Ah, and I'll also take a look at that arm of yours."

"Tony." The Mission glared at Stark, who, in turn, put his hands up placatinly.

"Hey, he said it himself. One of the reasons he, er, 'chose me' is because I can take care of his arm."

Stevie rolled his eyes (insubordinate little shit), "Oh, and there's no ulterior motive behind that?"

"Well..."

He sighed and rolled his eyes, "C'mon, Buck. Let's get you cleaned up."

The Asset did not move from its post.

"Pfft-"

"Do you have something you want to say, Stark?"

"No, no. Its nothing."

"..."

"..."

"Can you please tell Bucky to follow me."

Stark smirked, "Soldier, listen to Rogers. For now."

The Asset took a page out of Stevie's book and pouted.

The Mission looked affronted. Good.

As the two super soldiers walked out, Tony could be heard cackling. Forget what he said about not enough coffee, this was pure gold.