Chapter 3
Steve wasn’t sure why, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t tear his eyes away from James. The man moved so gracefully despite being almost as big as Steve himself; he stalked along the corridor after Tony like a big, majestic cat, with the familiar straight back and confident stance of a soldier. Steve had already guessed he had been in the army even before Tony had shown him the file he’d found. There was plenty of information on his upbringing, medical records and initial service in the army, but almost no information about Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes since he went M.I.A while serving in Afghanistan. He was missing for two years - presumably captured, though there was no information about who had captured him or why - then there was the date he had returned to American soil, but no explanation of how he had got back, and a notice of his discharge from the army a few months later on medical grounds. There was no detail of what these medical grounds were, and no medical records for him at all. It was all very mysterious. Since then, the only record of him was as an employee of the café where Tony and Steve had first seen him, and even that was hard to find. They couldn’t find his address anywhere.
It was pretty clear someone didn’t want James to be on record. Who was he?
Steve knew Tony was just as intrigued by James as he was, but his excitement was focused on the arm. He was practically vibrating with excitement as he led James into his workshop and gestured for him to sit in the comfy chair facing the desk.
Steve leant against the wall by the door, not wanting to be a distraction. He was still watching James as the man shrugged off his leather jacket. He looked so good, had done when Steve had met him in the lobby, even more strikingly good looking than Steve remembered, with his sharp jaw and cheekbones, piercing grey-blue eyes and that amazing hair. He was nearly as tall as Steve but built more solidly and Steve felt a pang of lust at the idea that James wasn’t delicate like Steve’s previous partners had been. With them he’d always been aware of the massive physical difference between them, but with James… Although Steve knew his super serum made him a lot stronger, James’s build meant that he could imagine them as equals in the bedroom.
As soon as he caught himself going down this route he mentally berated himself. He shouldn’t be thinking about sex with a man he’d just met. It felt like a violation when he didn’t even know James, or anything really about him.
It had been a long, long time since Steve felt such an immediate attraction to someone, the first time in this century actually.
Steve had tried to make James feel at ease while they waited for Tony, tried his best to flirt a little but not enough to make James uncomfortable, or give away how strongly he felt. And then he’d watched James space out and start to shake, as if he was caught somewhere in his mind and he couldn’t get back, and a new feeling rose in Steve. It wasn’t pity, but it was sympathy and a desire – no, a need - to reassure him that everything was okay. He felt protective. He needed to help, he wanted to make James smile again.
He wasn’t stupid. James had obviously been through a lot. He’d been in the army, most likely been a prisoner-of-war, somehow he’d lost an arm – that much they knew. It wasn’t surprising he was having a panic attack, especially now he was here, thrown out of his comfort zone into the bizarre world of Tony Stark.
Steve had done what he could to bring James out of it, remembering the relaxation techniques Sam had taught him back when he’d been getting panic attacks more regularly. He’d never been so relieved that he’d bothered to relearn sign language as he was in that moment, when it meant he could communicate with James. Then Tony came in and ruined the moment, as always.
As they walked to his laboratory Tony ran through the plan.
“So, I’m thinking today we’ll just take an initial look at the arm, take some scans of it to see what’s going on inside and then hopefully open it up and see if we can fix it. If we can’t do that right now, that’s okay, we’ll arrange to do that another time. Either way, I’ll have to ask you some questions about it afterwards, if you don’t mind. I realise it might be unpleasant to talk about but I’m going to need some kind of context here.”
James looked nervous but nodded. Steve fought the urge to take his hand and reassure him.
Once they entered Tony’s workshop it didn’t take long for all three of them to realise two fundamental problems. Firstly, James wouldn’t be able to sign while Tony worked on his left arm. Even if James knew how to sign one-handed, Steve would definitely struggle with translating. If he needed anything he would have to speak up.
James was faced with the second problem he went to push up his sleeves. He had worn a long-sleeved shirt and the sleeves were too tight over his metal arm for him to be able to roll them up.
“Yeah you’re going to have to take that shirt off,” Tony commented, as if it wasn’t a huge deal. James went red and Steve felt his own face light up too. James didn’t say anything but slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, as if he was trying to hide his nervousness. Steve found himself leaning forward and forced himself to stop. Honestly. He needed to get a handle on himself. His attraction to James was quite alarming. It wasn’t like he was getting a strip-tease from him – this was a medical examination.
James paused on the last button of his shirt, fingers hovering.
“I have scars,” he blurted out suddenly. His eyes met Steve’s across the room, anxiety evident in them.
Steve gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “We all do,” he said softly. Since the serum he actually didn’t have any on the outside anymore, but he sure as hell had them inside.
For once Tony didn’t say anything but pulled up his t-shirt to show James the arc reactor embedded in his chest, the terrible scarring around it which still looked as angry and red as the day it had happened. James’s eyes widened as he and Tony looked at each other with understanding.
He didn’t say anything else after that but undid the last button of his shirt and pulled it off.
Steve’s breath caught and James’s eyes flicked to his, with a hint of challenge. Steve didn’t back down, just kept looking at James’s body and whatever James saw on his face made his eyes widen with surprise and relief and… something else?
James without his shirt was a work of art, broad shoulders and firm chest, strong abdominals clear even beneath the soft layer of his stomach and vivid, painful-looking scars all over his left shoulder where the metal had been grafted to him… somehow. Even thinking about how painful that must have been didn’t detract from the arousal that rushed through Steve as he stared at James. He hoped his lust wasn’t clear on his face but James was flushed now, so it probably was.
Tony was looking too.
“Sweet Jesus Christ. Are you okay over there, Captain? Has James’s stripper bod short-circuited you?”
Steve wanted the floor to open up and swallow him, but he forced himself to roll his eyes as if Tony was joking. Tony just raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. He had that smirk on his face that Steve had come to dread, an ‘I’ve just figured something out’ look. To Steve’s immense relief, Tony broke the tension by turning back to James. The chair James sat in had firm-looking restraints attached to the arms, made of some identifiable material.
“Are you sure about this?” Tony asked. James nodded.
Tony fastened the restraints around James's wrists. Steve was concerned for James, confused at why they were necessary, but he didn’t say anything.
Tony turned his attention to James’s arm, scanning up and down the arm slowly with some kind of handheld device as James held himself unnaturally still.
“Oh my god!” Tony exclaimed after a disarming pause, as he pulled up a cross section of the arm on a screen, rattling off his thoughts as quickly as they came. “I’ve never seen anything like this?! It’s just… insane. It must be so heavy. Is that why you’re so jacked??” he asked James with gleeful curiosity.
James didn’t say anything but glanced down at his body in embarrassment, unconsciously tensing his biceps as if he wanted to wrap his arms round himself. Steve felt a surge of interest in his trousers and quickly sat down in a chair to hide it.
“This type of metal is just… unreal,” rambled Tony, mainly to himself. “Nothing like what’s usually used on prosthetics. And these here...” he pointed at the diagram and Steve leant forward to look, rolling the swivel chair across the floor to avoid needing to stand up. “It’s wired right into your nerves. That’s why you can control it just like a normal arm.”
James flinched, metal fist clenching shut unconsciously. He was getting flashes, scraps of German conversation, voices explaining the arm to his handlers, explaining what it could do. Explaining how strong it was, how effective the asset would be once his training was complete. Explaining what a perfect weapon it was.
He forced himself to breathe out and relax the fist, forced his attention back to the room he was in and not to pull at the restraints. His eyes met Steve’s and he felt himself calm. Tony was still talking, apparently unaware of James’s reaction, but Steve had noticed, a tiny frown creasing his forehead. He signed are you okay and James nodded.
As Tony began his examination of the arm, James fought hard against the memories that rose up with the sensation of his arm being tweaked and played with. It didn’t hurt, but he could feel the tools probing the inside of his arm and the intrusion was weird and kind of unpleasant. Tony kept up a constant stream of conversation - which was pretty standard for him, James had realised by now – and that was soothing, helped ground him. It helped that he was hearing an American voice rather than German or Russian. Steve occasionally commented too, checking in with James and asking how something felt, or responding to Tony and that helped too, brought him out of his memories when he started to slip away.
When Tony had finished he undid the restraints and James flexed the arm, testing. Whatever tweaks Tony had made to it seemed to have helped; it moved more smoothly than it had recently.
“Thank you,” he told Tony sincerely and Tony looked pleased. “You’re welcome.”
There was a slightly awkward pause as everyone realised the next bit wasn’t going to be pleasant – a conversation about how James had got the arm in the first place.
“I was a prisoner,” James blurted out before anyone could ask him anything. “I was on guard one night when there was an explosion. When I woke up I was a prisoner and my arm was gone. They -”
He cut off, voice choking. Tony and Steve watched him intently. Steve looked upset and Tony’s mouth was pressed into a hard line.
They tortured me. For two years. James signed and Steve translated it for Tony, clearly trying hard to keep his emotions in check. At some point they attached this arm, I don’t remember when. They wanted to make me into a weapon. A soldier.
He stilled, unable to go on even with his fingertips as Steve echoed his words out loud. Suddenly he flinched at the feel of a hand over his, but it was just Steve. He squeezed James’s hand once before moving back.
“What did they do to try to make you a soldier?” Tony asked, looking like he felt terrible for having to ask this stuff.
They trained me in combat and espionage. I was already a sniper; they mainly wanted me to be an assassin. There was a machine… James signed, wincing as he remembered the pain in his head. It was supposed to wipe my memories. They taught me commands, I was meant to obey without thinking. T-r-i-g-g-e-r-s. He spelt it out.
If I disobeyed, they made sure I associated it with pain. It was so weird to hear the horrors of his life spoken in Steve’s smooth voice.
“Who were they?” Tony leaned forward, his eyes eager and hungry.
James closed his eyes. H-Y-D-R-A.
James didn’t see the shock on Tony and Steve’s faces, the looks they gave each other. He couldn’t believe he had told them everything so easily. He had spent so long running, keeping his identity a secret and now he had spilt everything to Tony Stark and Captain America, of all people.
He stood up abruptly and both Tony and Steve jumped. James felt like there were pins and needles all over his body, panic bristling under his skin.
“You don’t have to leave,” Tony said quickly, standing too. Steve looked like he wanted to touch James, but held himself back.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” James begged, shocking them all with his voice. “They discharged me from the army because they didn’t realise I was a weapon. If they find me they’ll lock me up.”
“No one will tell anyone anything,” Tony said firmly. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a big fan of the government. They like to make out that the Avengers work for them but actually we do our own thing. Your secret is safe with us.”
Steve nodded earnestly.
James let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. The panic was still there though. He had to get out.
“I do have to go.” He moved towards the door. “Thank you for fixing my arm.”
“Anytime,” said Tony, a serious look on his face. “I’d like to see you again James, if you don’t mind? There’s a lot more to look at with your arm and I think we could do with talking more, if you’re okay with that. SHIELD has been after HYDRA for a long time and we could really use any information you have.”
James blinked rapidly to keep out the dizzy blackness at the edges of his vision. He nodded.
Tony looked relieved. “Okay. I’ll text you next week to set up another appointment. Thank you, James.”
James nodded and walked quickly to the door. He avoided making eye contact with Steve.
When he stepped out into the corridor he barely made it a few steps before the rush of panic was almost blinding and he leant against the wall, breathing heavily. He pressed his metal hand to his eyes, enjoying the coldness as he forced himself to get his breathing under control, till he felt almost unnaturally calm.
“Can I walk you home?” A smooth voice asked. When James lifted his eyes from his hand he saw Steve standing there, unreasonably handsome, his face calm though there was something flashing in his eyes as he looked at James.
James breathed in a shuddering breath and nodded. Why the fuck not. It wasn’t like he had any dignity left to lose.
They began walking to the elevator at the end of the corridor in companionable silence. When the elevator doors open Steve indicated in a chivalrous way that James should go in first. “After you, James.”
James blushed as he stepped inside, then blurted out something he thought he would never say again.
“Actually you can call me Bucky.”