Part One
“Where is he?”
It can’t see through the bars - darkness surrounds it, drowning it, blinding it, filling its throat. Familiar. It can feel the bars, cold and unforgiving against its back. It hasn’t shifted from the floor in three days, hasn’t closed its useless eyes.
“Answer the question.”
Feet shuffle close to it. It can smell the fear, heady like smoke curling in front of its face. It lets its nostrils flare, drag in the scent, and a slow grin drips over its face. It tilts its head up, stares unseeing at whatever is above it. They - whoever they are - haven’t taken its metal arm, and it scrapes the fingers along the concrete floor.
“We know you know where he is. You’re the one who took him.”
It doesn’t speak. Oh, it knows who they are asking after, knows why. But this is...fun. They are slowly getting more and more frustrated, more desperate. They are scared of it, stay wary and careful. They have sent in interrogator after interrogator, trying different methods. They haven’t tried torture yet, but it supposed they knew it was beyond torture. It had been tortured for years - there was nothing they could do that hadn’t been done.
“You’ll be let go if you tell us.”
They haven’t tried bargaining before. It knows without a doubt that they are lying. It is the Asset. The Winter Soldier. It is dripping with blood. They will be looking for punishment. The only reason it is still alive is because it knows where he is. Their Captain America. Its final mission. (“I need you to do it one more time.”) The feet shuffle closer.
“Is he alive?”
It tilts its head in the general direction of where the interrogator stands. It has been waiting for this question. Slowly, it stands up and stalks forwards, coming to stand directly in front of the interrogator. Their blood flows quicker, heartbeat loud in the room. The stench of fear is flooding its brain by now, making it dizzy. The feet hastily step back.
Silence echoes.
Then, in a voice croaky with disuse: “Captain America is dead,” is reports blandly. The interrogator leaves with a thudding heart and heart wrenching grief spilling from them in waves. “Another lives,” it finishes, and then grins wide and rest its forehead on the bars.
“Soon he will come.”
*
And so he does. The Kukol’nyy wades through the darkness as though he was bred from it - it wraps around him like mist. The Asset lifts its head from the bars and stares straight ahead, seeing nothing but black. It can hear him coming, sense the danger like thorns in its stomach. Red alarms are blaring, flashing through the room in short bursts of bloody light.
He stands on the other side of the bars, and raises one hand to reach through them and touch the Asset’s cheek with a strange tenderness he should not have retained. As soon as it leans into the touch, he pulls away and disappears. The door to the cage swings open, and the Asset sets about escaping.
When the building is nothing but ash, the Asset returns to find the Kukol’nyy standing rigid in a nest of embers. He looks up as the Asset’s boots crunch on burning beams, and stares it right in the eye.
“What is your mission?” he asks.
The Asset tilts its head to one side. “It has none. It is to terminate the Asset by any means possible.” It hasn’t had the chance to, yet. “It is finished. What is yours?”
The Kukol’nyy frowns. “To free the Asset so it may be terminated. I has freed...it.”
“Are you to report back to the extraction point?” the Asset asks.
The Kukol’nyy looks like he wants to pace, but he remains still. He is fresh - the Asset knows that his mind was rebuilt only three days ago. The procedure had been perfected, and so he had been sent on his first mission to retrieve the Asset. The Asset was old - it had too many faults. This is what Hydra had taught it. Captain America was a perfect replacement, and so the Kukol’nyy had been made. And yet. Had Hydra miscalculated? Had they made a mistake this early?
“It was not specified.” He looks lost.
The Asset looks around it, taking the chaos. It knows what awaits the Kukol’nyy back with Hydra. If he was given no order after his mission, then Hydra are not fit to command him. The Asset is no longer under their control. It fixes its attention back on the Kukol’nyy.
“Come. We must disappear.”
The Kukol’nyy moves like the shadows, and they melt into the smoke.
*
Hydra fall into a collective panic. Without their Asset or their Kukol’nyy, the final heads get cauterized. The remaining Avengers gather, and Project Insight falls through. The Asset watches all of this on a screen.
It and the Kukol’nyy have found somewhere to rest. The Kukol’nyy has begun malfunctioning, but now there is no where to take him, and no one to fix him. Hydra is gone. The Kukol’nyy sleeps a lot, whimpering and twitching. He has not spoken a sentence in four days. The Asset is worried, but it does not make it known.
The Asset itself is not sleeping well. It doesn’t have much practice with it, firstly. Secondly, it dreams. There are images, hellish red and drowning blue. It has memories, now, of a life it never knew existed. The Kukol’nyy lives there, in the Asset’s memories.
Steve.
It does not tell the Kukol’nyy - he is confused enough. The Asset has begun to think that Hydra did not perfect the procedure. The Kukol’nyy is not doing well at all. At this moment, as the Asset watches the news in the apartment they’ve been resting in, the Kukol’nyy is sitting on the mattress in the corner. He has his arms wrapped around his knees, staring into space. The Asset would think he looks almost childish, if it didn’t know how deadly he was.
“Kukol’nyy,” the Asset calls.
The Kukol’nyy’s eyes flicker, unclouding as he comes back from wherever he goes. “Asset?”
“We have rested long enough,” the Asset reports. This is true. They need...help.
“Mission?”
The Asset nods, and the Kukol’nyy rises to his feet, immediately ready to go. With its trained eye, the Asset watches the faint tremors go through the Kukol’nyy’s body. It is time to go. It grabs their few belongings - all jammed into one backpack - and takes the lead. The Kukol’nyy trails behind, that unsure and lost look haunting his eyes.
*
The Asset takes him to the Avengers compound. The Kukol’nyy used to be Captain America. He had been friends with the Avengers. The Avengers do not know that Captain America is now the Kukol’nyy. The Asset will use this to their advantage. It triggers an alarm at the compound and beckons the Kukol’nyy to its side, gesturing for him to stay alert. He is looking around with narrowed eyes, shoulders hunched in on himself. He is still dressed in the gear Hydra sent him out in - black stealth clothes with a shining eight-pointed red star on his chest.
The Avengers come. They are heavily armed, and the Asset finds itself surprised when the weapons are pointed at both of them. The Black Widow - little spider? - speaks in Russian, words directed at the Asset.
“What did they do to him?” she asks.
The Asset glances at the Kukol’nyy, and then back at the Widow. “He is reprogrammed. Successfully.” The Widow doesn’t betray how she feels about that, only turns to the other Avengers and repeats the Asset’s answer in English.
“Why are you here?” is asked of it.
“He needs help. He is lost. Hydra are not good handlers.” Now the Avengers seem disturbed, and the Asset steps in front of the Kukol’nyy, narrowing its eyes.
Nothing happens. The Asset and the Kukol’nyy are taken inside the compound, and the Asset isn’t surprised when they are placed in cells meant to hold beings stronger than themselves. The Asset settles down in a corner, and watches the Kukol’nyy pace over to it and sit down beside it. He closes his eyes, trusting that the Asset will watch out for them. The Asset squares his jaw and does just that.
<>
He has a name - the Kukol’nyy. He does not know what this means, but he knows that he has not always been the Kukol’nyy. And yet, it is all he remembers. After he had completed his mission - free the Asset, tear down the building it is held in - he was lost. There was no specific order for what came after.
But the Asset. It had shone like a diamond in the rough, metal arm gleaming, and it had shown him the way. The Kukol’nyy is nothing without his handlers, and for now, the Asset is his handler. He’s confused, though. Where are they? He feels - who are these people? They looked at him like they knew him. Do they? Had they seen his work?
He and the Asset are in a - a cage? Cell? He is confused.
He needs - electricity, lighting in his brain, tearing him apart, who is he - he needs. He is malfunctioning. This is not how he is supposed to be. Shivering, shaking, unsure.
The Asset helps. It is an anchor, holding the Kukol’nyy to what sanity he has left. Has left? Had he had such a thing? He’s so confused. He is curled into a ball at the Asset’s side, and the touch grounds him.
The Asset helps.
The Kukol’nyy is malfunctioning, twitching in and out of reality. His mind is -
Mind? His mind is -
He twitches, eyes sliding open. There are hands on him, one cold, one warm. The Asset gazes down at him with a furrowed brow, eyes dark and yet so - familiar?
His mind is -
He feels like he’s going to explode. The Asset is speaking. The Kukol’nyy must - needs - tries to listen.
“Kuk -”
Blinking red lights - there was so much smoke, so much blood and grit and screaming screaming screaming s̵c̱r͓e͏̟̗̫a̠̪͖̳͇̩̤m͎͈͞i̠̹̰n͈̫̬̲g̨̖ͅ ̵͔͎͕s͍̖̘̹c̮̫̻̝̯r̡e͉am̜͍̪̣͎̰͉įn̳̺̜̯g̗͈̘̻͘ ̭̼̪͉̼͙̜s̢̻͔c̤̰̺̬ͅr̖̺̳̻̹͎̞̕e͙̟̦͚̟̪a͍̥̘̻̠m̹͚̪̜̫̫͘ͅi҉n̬̣͙̬͓͟ǵ͓̯ ̪͙̫̳̱ͅ- this is not what he was made for - made for? Made the second time - the first time - there was another time?
“Kukol’nyy -”
He can’t see, but is that the same when they took his brain and fried it so bad he forgot who he was? Who he was? Who he was? Who̧̩̻̰͇ ̯̥̪̘̙-̠
“Listen -”
Who is he? This is not -
“Ste -”
t̢̺͓̘̦h̺̙̻e̹̣̮̞̜ ̹̼̬͖̦̘͎͝K͙̺̹̥͕u̪͈̫̦̦͞k̦̮͉͕̗̕o̖͓̝l̡̰͚̺̖'̭͓̟͙̹n̴y̵̜̘̜y̼̤͓͝.̛̫.̝.͚̰
͖͎̲͕̣̯w͕͞h͍̱̱͚͞a̹t̲̼͝ ̼̜i̫̬̘͜s̢̖̻̪͙ ̷̯̻̜̦̥͉ͅh̥̜̖͖̮͕̳a̳̳p̜̝͍̰̳p͏͈͈̱̗e̸̝̪̦̜͚n̦̤͈̬̖̕i̡͉̪̪̙̬̩n̹͟ͅg͙̱͍͍͡?̯͙͕
͢"҉̪S͙̩͍t͇͙͜e͎̞͖͔̣ṿe͖̖͈͙̖̣ͅ?̭"̥̰̞
̙W͎̗̕h͇̟̘̳͞o ̴͙̜̮i͖̹̻̳͎͘s̸̥̫̻̳͓̬ ͍͓͕̖-̞̰̱-̺-̣̪͈-̸̦̼͚
Black. Steve?
<>
The Asset had been keeping watch. It had been strangely peaceful, with the Kukol’nyy falling into either a slumber or something else, tucked against the Asset’s side. And then it hadn’t been peaceful at all. The Kukol’nyy had started twitching, and then writhing against the Asset, head flung back and mouth open wide in a heart-wrenching scream. The sound had been guttural and full of pain, and the Asset’s ears are still ringing.
It had tried talking to the Kukol’nyy, tried saying his name, and then the name the Asset had found deep in its mind the other day. That’s when the Kukol’nyy had gone limp and silent. The Avengers came, weapons at the ready, but they weren’t prepared for what both the footage showed them and what they found.
The Kukol’nyy was taken from the Asset’s side - its arms - and the Asset was brought with them.
And now it stands, watching as the one known as Iron Man scans the Kukol’nyy’s head, images of his brain coming up on a screen. The Asset doesn’t know what a normal brain looks like, but judging by the reactions from those gathered, the situation is bad.
The Kukol’nyy is still out cold.
His unmoving body and pale face is making the Asset’s skin itch.
“ - Barnes!” Iron Man is talking, apparently directed at the Asset. It turns its focus to the man, and narrows its eyes. It’s confused about the name Iron Man has given it. “I need you to tell me exactly what they did to him,” Iron Man demands.
The Asset pulls back its lips into a snarl, and moves closer to the Kukol’nyy. “Standard wipe - his mind was strong, three wipes were needed. Basic programming was put in place, and then the procedure was started,” it reports, remembering what it had overheard.
“What happened in the procedure?” Iron Man looks pale. Perhaps he is sick, too.
“Strip the mind, implant the codewords, reprogramming. They would have done it in a hurry. There are gaps. He is not up to standard. He is in need of maintenance.”
Iron Man is leaning on the bed he has put the Kukol’nyy on. “Jesus. Is that what they did to you?” he asks. His voice is strangely hoarse.
“Yes. Will you fix the Kukol’nyy?” it asks, impatient. Who knows what is happening in the Kukol’nyy’s mind at the moment.
“The Kukol’nyy? What?”
Iron Man is not up to speed, still. Duly noted. The Asset resists the urge to roll its eyes, and instead points a metal finger at the Kukol’nyy, trying to make Iron Man hurry up. The medical feel of the place they’re in makes the Asset nervous.
“I’m going to have to have a closer look at what they’ve done. Stay here, I’ll need information. FRIDAY, can you ask Bruce to come here, please?”
And so it begins. The Asset settles in for a long haul, watching the Kukol’nyy’s face the entire time.
<>
H̶̼͍͉e͏̷̮̮̻̺͚̤̩̤̙ ̨̛̹̯̖̤̱c̞̙̲͖͙̳̯̹a̴̱͙͚̳̜͡n̷͢҉͙̣̮̯͇̩̻͖'̢̛̺̼̦̥͖̦̞͍͝t̷̥̼̖̦̮ ̱̰̠̘̹̹͉-̸̘̳̲͔̰̫-̫̣̟̼̤͞͡ͅ-̡̛̼͖̰̥̞͢-͉̕ͅ-̸̨̡̣̞̟͈̥̠͔͉͓͇̣̲̀ͅ
̦̞͇͇̥̜̤È͖̩̞̣̩͜ͅs҉̝̗̲̘̰̜̙͚̺͟c̨̠̙͓̟̩̫̦̱͡a̯͎͙̖̥͔͝p̵̨̰͈̕e̜̜͟ͅ?̵̨̻̼͖
̨̞͉̀
͕̗̯͖̰Ḩ̪̥̖̲ͅͅe̲̥̼ ̙̮͉͖͞i̩̖̹s̞̱̭͎̼̱͍̲̺.̘̻͎͟ ̶̤̜̘̰P͠͏̖͍̜r͙̻̮̰͈͇͖̤̀͡í̡̝͎̯͜s̹͓͖͝ͅo̸̸̺̰͔͉̻͖̝̮̙͝n̰̳̞̬̰̜͘͝e̻̣͘͡r͉͓̜͘.̷̢͓̙ ̛̱͢I͍̫̕n̨͇̬͉̲̪ ̙̦͇̠̪͓́h̴̠̙͍͖̥̬͠i̷͇s̶̴̳̲̟̲̩͈͕̠ ̷҉̨̞̯͍̹o͠͏̩̤͍̝w̴̡͓͉ǹ̶̥̞̕ ͉̗͙̥̥̯̹m͚͍̼̺̟͈̤̣͉͠i͏͏͍̪͜n̷̘̮͘ͅd̳͍́͢.̹́͡ ̵̷҉̢̩̝̙͎̯̘̰͜
̵͕̟̀H̜̗̞̘̻̮̥͢e̷̴̥͈̗̘̳̣̞̦͘ĺ̡͉̟͝p҉̻͚̟̗ ̢͓̥̗̞͔h̡͉͇̝ẹ̢̦̻̕͞l̨̲͖̬̼̟p̨̞̝͖ ̗͘h̭̀ȩ̶̝̮̗̰̮̻́l̶̖̬͔̻̭̝p̧͖̭͘ͅ ͝҉̤͕̩͉͇h̦̲̻ḙ̴̙̻̤̖̫̤̱͕͟l̵̨̥͇̹͔͍͖̺͜p͍͉̕ ͚̰̳̩̺̯s̷̗͍c͉̠͎͔̼̼͇͖r̢̭ḙ̴́á̩͖m̘̹͔̗͓i͔̘̤̱͍n̶̻̘̞ͅǵ̸̭͕̞̺͇ ̬̺̝s̞̠̳͟ͅc̼͎̬͔̳r̢̬͚̱̫e͏̪̼̜͍̝̼̝͔a̤̩͕͕̰̦̠̝͠͞m̛̛͉̺̭̤̦̖̻í̧̦n̢̛̜͈͙̬g̰͔̲̘̬ ̖͕̖͢ͅs̶̡̠͎ć̨̹̩̖̩̮̀ͅr̟̀ę̳̘̦̱̗͔͟ͅa͔͎m̡̰̭̯̗͞ị̬̬́͟n͞҉̨̪̺̟̜̹̭̳̝g̛̺̹̖͚͎ ҉̤̮̙͎̤s̭̙̱͉͉̰̬̀͞͠c҉̵̨̩̞̘r̛̗̱̙͓͕e̛̝̠̟̬͖̖̫a͉̳̕m̨͍͖̘̺͍͖͓i̦̦̳͎̙̜͘n̗̘͎͠͝g̦̜̯̦̝͚̟̞͡
̸̖͖͝
̩̪̞̹̥̮̙̀W͏̸̦̪͉̮̙̺̜͖h̠̬̘̥̯̹̥̤̀o̷͚̱͚ ҉͓̥̪̪̰̺̥w͇͙̘̥̮̬̗̝̩͟͝i̸͏̹̘̻̤͎͓͉̪l͏̷̯̦̣l̛̬̝͔̦̪̲͓ ̴̟̺̜͈̞f̟̞̱͢͡͝r̶̼͙̗̣̫͖͖e̤͞͞e̫̠͜͠ ̸̴͙͢h̗̳̳̱͍̖̱i̦͎ͅm̧͔͉͔͜͢?͕̱̝̫̝
Falling? No, he was frozen.
T̬͔̜̭̖̤̹́h̷͓̱͕̻̤̜̬̻̙̫͖̯̪̗̪͘͜͡e̝̥̬̺̝̫͍̬͙̣͕̩̯̰͜͢ỳ̸̸͙̩̮̗̼̬̣͎̳̠̱̩̞̞̩̜͍͘ ̴̟͉̳̰̲̪̖̲̯̟̩̦̪͡ͅw̡̝͖̟͇̮̗͕̖̼̥̤̙͢͠a̪͙̞̻̼̣͕͉̮̭͈̟̳̠͞n̤̙͖̜͜͡t̢̡̧͢͏͓̻̭͎͕̥e̴̴̴̵̳͔͎̖̦̩̗͓͈͇̩͔̫͙̤͓d̸̴̷͖̼̮̬͘͡ ͡͏̮̤̣͞ͅţ̱̫͉͉̀́͠͠ớ̧̹̮̼̯͖̺̣͠͠ͅ ̴̨̗̻̙͍̝̳̱̦̼͍͓̳̭̪̙̲͞f̶̗͎͚̘̺̠͕͙̖̹̜̩̥̀͢r̡̢͎͖̩̖̼̗̺̮̥e̢̡̕̕҉͕̬̝̟̺è̸̵̱̫̬͔͎̮z͠͝͠҉̺̭͔̭̳̳̱̼̱̪̟͠e̢̨̛̩͇̥̥̞͖̣͈̰͇̩̬̝̲̜͔̰ ̨̳̝͚̦͉͠h̰͇̘̻̺̦̠̟̭̙͔̻́͞ͅi̧̨̯̺͇̮͔͙̮̘̱̤͇̩̬͓͘͞͝m͡͏̰̼̫̱̯̥̦͚͓̰͉̯͙͘͜ ҉́͏͓̜̯͎͇̼̠̲̝̰̥̺̤̖a̘̘͕̝̦̝͟g҉̡͙̫͔͎́a̢̢̜̳̙̘͖͔̙̰̫͓̹i͓̺̠͇̹̝͍̮͍̕̕͢͠͡n҉̵̳̞̫̝̝̼.̷͙̱̱͚̮̠͍̲͙́ ̧̨̡͈͉͇͓̱̝̭̥̥̰͍̜̘̝̺͖̬̞̣̗̘͚̬̳̬͎͝͝ͅ
̸̵̴̡̹̟̼̮̻̣̱̤͚͔̞̘́Ņ͕̹͉̳̙̲̤̖͙̥̫͓́͘͘Ớ̢̜̳̠͙͚̯̠̯̠̻̣̠̖͔̱͍̯͎̩͝.̵̬͇͕̯̜̩̕͠͡͠
̵̷̢̥̦̫̝̳̲̦̪̘̠̕
̡͢͏͚͉͇̪ͅNO
NO
<>
“They’ve completely scrambled his brain. I can’t -” Iron Man storms out of the room, leaving the man named Bruce and the Asset standing beside the Kukol’nyy’s prone body.
Bruce stares helplessly after him, and the Asset scowls. “He will stay like this forever if we don’t hurry. It has seen it before,” The Asset informs Bruce.
Bruce startles, and turns to look at it. “Do you know how to fix this?” Bruce seems reluctant to talk to the Asset. It understands.
“No. The others all died.”
Bruce looks a little green in the face, and then he too is hurrying out of the room. The Asset sighs, and leans its elbows on the bed the Kukol’nyy is on. It stares at the Kukol’nyy’s face, feeling something like panic bubble in its gut. This is not good. The Kukol’nyy must live, thought the Asset isn’t sure why.
“Wake up, you punk,” it mutters, reaching out the flesh and blood hand and touching the Kukol’nyy’s cheek with a gentleness it didn’t know it possessed.
He doesn’t wake up.
*
Days pass. Iron Man comes back, and the other Avengers visit too. No one tells the Asset to leave, or do anything other than talk with it. It’s extremely confused about the whole situation, but grateful. It hasn’t slept, but let itself fall into a daze to rest its mind. It must keep watch for the Kukol’nyy. He trusts it.
Memories are still flooding back at an alarming rate. It hasn’t said anything. It gets why Iron Man calls it ‘Barnes’.
Nothing makes sense, except for the Kukol’nyy.
*
Weeks pass. The Kukol’nyy’s eyelids flickered. The Asset has passed out multiple times. It has also started being brought food. The Kukol’nyy has a drip in his arm.
A man named Sam Wilson - at his insistence, the Asset had been calling him Falcon - has been talking to the Asset. Sam Wilson is in grieving. The Asset listens to Sam Wilson with its eyes forever glued to the Kukol’nyy’s - Steve’s - face. Steve. Sam Wilson talks of who Captain America/Steve/the Kukol’nyy is and was. Apparently, he is similar to the Asset. The Asset was once Bucky Barnes.
Sam Wilson tells the Asset stories Steve had apparently told him. Sam Wilson is a gift to mankind. The Asset is fond of Sam Wilson, and unlike Iron Man, has never had the urge to kill him. According to Sam Wilson, the Asset’s previous work - “I don’t do that anymore.” - was not its fault. Apparently, it had been brainwashed.
Huh. The things you learn.
The Asset is indifferent. The blood dripping from its soul doesn’t make the Asset uncomfortable - or guilty. It was born from the shadows, just as the Kukol’nyy was. They are cut from the same cloth - perhaps twice, if Sam Wilson’s words are anything to go by.
At night, there is no one in the room except the Asset and the Kukol’nyy. Sometimes, the Asset will talk in hushed tones to the Kukol’nyy. It likes to tell the Kukol’nyy what Sam Wilson has told it, and what it has remembered by itself. It hopes the Kukol’nyy hears it. It hopes the Kukol’nyy will wake up soon. It hopes that the Kukol’nyy will wake up.
Tonight, the Asset has requested - it’s allowed to do that, apparently - for all light to be cut off from the room. It and the Kukol’nyy are immersed in darkness.
Quietly, it begs for the Kukol’nyy - for Steve - to wake up.
“Please.”
<>
P̕̕͏̟͇̖̘̞̼̗̜͙̭̬̳͚̲̮ļ͍͙͙͓͈̱̮̦̖͚̬̩̘̩̥e̡̛̖̗͔̼͟͞a̶͇̱͉͖͉̯͔̱̫͍͇̣̦͖͇̤͙̭͝s̸̵͓͔͈̞͈̩̖̖̘̮̯̜̕͟ͅe̸̛̙̝̳̟̤̟͉̯̥̲̗̰͖̤̟͠,̸̯̗̻̟̥̺̯̳̞̻͚̥̳̕ ̷̧̠̱̙̦̘̗̼͟͡p̸̛̳͕̣̙̰̰̞̟̥̮̝̻͖͍̻̳̺͘͡ͅl̴͓͍̘e̻̺̺̫̰̩̲̳͓̖̼̻̮͍͇̜͜ͅà̞͔͍̫̯̦̝̞͎̮̯͘ś̸̢̠̠͈͈̠̰̜̯̯̱͙̠̗̺͎̻̩̪̬͠e͏̣͖̯͓̠̣̟͍̤̺̯̝̻̪̩͚̤ͅ ̯̙̤̘̤̼͍̻̻͖̙͍͍̙͜͠w̧̻͖̝̗̲̱͔̱͎̦͞͝à̰̥̠̞̺̗͙͙̫͎̟ͅͅķ͈̪͇̦͜é̛̱͎͚͎̝͍͚̱̖̟͕̟͔̠̺̼̘͚̕͝ͅ ̨̧̡̡̙̭̻̜͕̩̗̣̗̳͖̱̥̹ͅu҉̷̭͖̖͚͙̘̭̘̀p̸̞̰̱̪͇͇̼̫̯̳̹̜͈̻͔̞ͅ.̕҉̖̬̙͉͟ ̞̰̳͇̟͇͔̳̭̱̰͕͈̝͓͍̝̩͝
̧̥͚̣̫S͇͚̥̖̘͈̟̭̮̀̕͢͠ͅt̴̢̨̤̜̻̮̲̺͍͘e̶̩̺̼̮̥̗͙͢͞v̦̹͍̞͙͍͉͇̖͇̖͓̲́͟ȩ̢̤͍͍̭̮̫̘̪͙̫̮̗͉̱̟̭̀͟͝.̶͓̞̱̬̬̞̮̩̮̬͉͓̤̪̣̘̺̰͜͜͠ ̢̧̱̘̲̖̘̺̱̤͎̘̬̰̰̙
̴̲͎͕̹̭̫̬͇̺͢͟
͏̛҉̩͚̟̰S̵͞͏͚̭̰͈̞̼̙̟̰̗̖̯̮͍̘̞ͅͅt͏̱̗̜̰́͟é̸̢̢͉̰̲̮͙͡v̷̢̹̝͍̯̀͢e͠͏̵̬͍͈̜͖͡,̵̧̺̺̟͈͙̭̤̰͘͢͟ ̟̖͙̩́͢͟ẁ̷̹͙͓͇̻̥̻̝̘͍̻ͅa͡͏̺̦͎͉̭̙̬̪̰̰̤̘̩͘ͅk̴̛͕̫͙̬͚̣̘̪͈̘͇̝̰͔̹̫͖ͅe̷͖̮̘̤̠̩̖̕ͅ ̛͘҉̹̗̠̗̤̠͙͎͉̼̩̙u̵̢̬̠͓̲͕̮͓͖̹̣̦̦͢͡p̪̝̝͎͙͇̹̳̺̖̀́.̶̛̱̬͚̙̪̳ ҉̷͎̪̲̘̠̱̞̀ ̩̲̠̩̭̰̲̼̹͇̬̯̹̜̕ͅ
̛̭̪̜͚̬̪̠̺̙͉̜͍̻͘͢͠C͉̠o̵̥̯̠̳̣̙̠͜m͈͖͈̤͉͉̀e̶̫̪̘̖̻͎͞ ̧̛̮͚b̛̬͉̗̻̰͙̙̺a̛͉̻̙̠̱̙͇͖c̫k̨̯̖̻̫ ̴̣̼̝̲͘ͅţ̩̻̭̱͔̯͟o̴̶̡̱̮̱̞̜̲ͅͅ ̫͙̠͎̞̰̬̹́ͅm͍͉e̢̹͔̣̮̱̖͍.̛̙̗̭ ͕̫̜̭̪͙̙
͈̘̯̤
̢͔̬̻̰̗̹̻̫S̠̼̜̼̙̭̳̟͞t̺͔̻̤̪̗̗͟e̛̲̯̻̲̦̺̳̰v҉͎̜̙̣̱͔̥e͔̺̰̱̝̥̩͟͢͝,͏̙̕ ̸͍̦̖͘Ḳ̸̪̯͎̦̩ų̛͍̻̦̞̭̜͝k̵̬̲̙̺̀ò̷̼̱̼̱̦͚̜͢ͅl̤͚̘͚͕͓͚'̨͔̜̮n̛͓͖̻̤̹̳̺̕͢ͅy̸̟̟̳̬y̞̬̣͎̖͓͢͠ ̶̠̥̭̫͚͙̯͡͡-̯̹͈̠͔-̵̼̳̭-̨̘̣̫̜̰-̡̘̱̙̖̟̝̖̠͝-̨̺̺̀͢-̵͉͚͔̼̮̹͚̗
Sṱ͓̫̳ę͇̜͈̯͕v̵̼̩̜̬ͅe̘̱̗̮?̱͇͓͢ ̳
P̮̥̥̗̠̣l̗̮̰̲͓̳e̫̙̣͚͕͇̩ą͔s̻̩̳͈̫ę̹ ̵͙ͅw̶̭͓͎a̖̩͚͢k̹̭̘̪̗e͍͇̭͇̼͚ ̯̩̙̬͔̞͕̕u͞p̼͎̙̞͙̘.̳̱̗͈̖
͓̪͡
̜͓̼̞P̩̞͘l̦̯e̸͈͙͇͍a̶̦s̨̖͔̫̼͍̬e̦̱ͅ.̶̯͉̬͕̗ ̼͔͚
̥̫̹͉̭̭J̟̟ṵ̧̭̻̘̭̺s̢͖̲͇̻͖̯ͅt̘̟̳̜̻͘ ̴̤̼̦̩͉̘̪p̻l̩̮̲͞ḙ̣̙͙̯͡ͅa͚͜s͓̭̫̮ͅͅe ̨͚ͅͅw͔͈̳̝̕a̠̗̩k̢̘̹͕̫e͞ ̭͎ṷ̸̲̖̯p͏.͎͚ ̣̪̙͕͖ͅ ̰͔
͎̩͡P̝͙̪̞͖̱̀l͎̣̬̪̯̟͚͡e̱̼̫̹̳a̟̘͈̙͎̠ͅs̫͖͕̗̥͍̘e͈̹ ̸̹̥b̖͍e̤͙̪ ̢̖̗̙̣͓̘o̻̣̞ͅk̨ay̲͟.̹̘̼̹̺̘ͅ
Please.
Steve?
<>
The Kukol’nyy - Steve - Steve opens his eyes that morning. The Asset - still bathed in shadows - pauses in his pleading to watch Steve slowly blink. Steve opens his mouth to speak, but then frowns, and turns towards the Asset. “Asset?”
The Asset nearly crumbles in its relief. “Steve.”
Confusion is swimming in those blue eyes, and the Asset reaches over to brush Steve’s hair out of his face. Like it had been shown, the Asset presses a button underneath Steve’s bed that will alert the Avengers that Steve is awake. The lights come on, and Steve blinks in surprise.
“I was...stuck,” he murmurs.
The Asset nods, searching Steve’s gaze. “We weren’t sure you were going to wake up. What happened?”
“I…” Steve frowns and looks dazed, eyes becoming very far away. “You - you called me back. I was...stuck, sucked down under - it was so dark -” his heart rate is climbing, up and up, and the Asset moves closer, shushing him.
“It’s okay. We’re gonna make sure you never have to go back there,” it promises.
Steve nods, coming back to stare at the Asset. He completely trusts it. Iron Man comes in, then, and the Asset moves backwards to allow Steve to be checked over. Steve seems bewildered and confused, and still doesn’t recognise his friends. He recognises the Asset, and something warm settles over it.
*
More days pass. The Asset and Steve are moved to a new, more comfortable room. Steve is physically healthy, and shows no signs of going back into a coma. The air around him still crackles with danger. He gets easily confused, and can’t remember much of anything. He knows the Asset, and will listen to the Asset, but that’s about as far as things go.
Iron Man - Tony - came up and clapped him on the back once, talking about something he was excited about, and Steve scattered quicker than a cat. Even the Asset had trouble tracking him down, but eventually found him in one of the unfinished rooms, rocking back and forth on the concrete floor. It’d taken the rest of the day to coax Steve down for dinner. Tony tries to keep himself in check, now.
So, mentally, Steve isn’t doing all that well. Bruce had mentioned something about his brain healing itself - the way the Asset’s was apparently doing - but Steve showed no signs of improvement. The Asset still hoped.
Sometimes, Steve disappears. He’s quiet as the Asset is nowadays and just as well programmed. Backed with all his previous training and experience, Steve has the potential to be an assassin with skills rivaling the Asset’s own. But, the Asset know where to find him when he slips out of a room like he was never there.
The first time, the Avengers panicked, but the Asset had found him in the training room, attacking the training robots with a ferocity the Asset hadn’t ever seen in him - in all three variations. He tore through them like they were nothing, and when the exercise was finished, he stood amidst a chaos of smoking metal, fingers splayed at his sides like he expected them to be dripping with blood.
He hadn’t even been exerted.
He’d turned to the Asset and stalked towards it with something dark in his eyes, but when he reached it he’d simply collapsed into the Asset’s arms.
In the present, the Asset is sitting at the dinner table the Avengers share - it has been told they are like a family, and it and Steve are welcome to join. This confuses it, but it has a seat at the table. It eats the food it is offered. It helps clean up, afterwards, working with Steve to wash and dry. Steve does it mechanically. (The body remembers what the mind does not.)
Steve sits beside it, and is beginning to get the food for himself. He hadn’t, at first, had simply sat and stared into space. When food had been put on a plate and put in front of him, he hadn’t twitched. It wasn’t until the Asset told him to eat that he started picking at the food, frowning at it like he didn’t expect it to be edible.
Now, though, he gets his own food, but sits down and waits for the Asset to start eating before he does. The Avengers watch them, and try to act like they don’t. The Asset doesn’t mind. It never had privacy - or did it? - and so it’s nothing out of the ordinary for it.
After dinner, it and Steve retire to their shared room.
Usually, they take turns keeping watch, even though they don’t really need to. It’s habit. Ritual. It makes them feel safe, and that’s what matters. Tonight, it’s Steve’s turn, but instead he goes into the ensuite and doesn’t come out for two hours. The Asset paces, sparing a fleeting thought for the track it’s probably wearing into the carpet. There is no sound from the ensuite.
When two hours are up, the Asset knocks on the door. It doesn’t have a lock on it, but privacy is important. Sam Wilson said so. Steve doesn’t reply. The Asset knocks again, and when there is still no sound, it turns the handle and goes in.
There is an open window, and no Steve.
The Asset panics.
It spares a moment to gear up, and then leaps out the window and begins looking for tracks. Steve is good, though, and there is no clue to where he has gone. But the Asset is The Winter Soldier, and it didn’t get a reputation for no reason. It closes its eyes and takes a moment, remembering a particular programming and training exercise.
Ищейка.
It opens its eyes, and catches Steve’s scent. Then it hunts.
Steve’s scent is charcoal and blood, but underneath that lies the tang of metal and sharp musk. Dark writhes along the path he makes. The Asset stalks after him, boots making not a sound on the ground. It finds itself disappearing into greenery, the dampness of the woods masking Steve’s scent. It doesn’t matter. The Asset can see trampled undergrowth and snapped twigs, showing the path Steve has made.
It finds him shirtless in a clearing, knelt beside the dead body of a stag.
There is darkness in Steve, and the Asset curses itself for not seeing it grow.
“Steve,” it calls.
“Asset,” Steve growls back.
The Asset kneels beside him, taking in the sight of the stag. Its antlers are massive, and its body is strong. Its neck is broken, and blood pools around it. The same blood is on Steve’s hands, on his chest and his face. Steve’s head is bowed, his shoulders hunched. He is shaking. There are tears mixing with the blood on his face.
The Asset’s heart hurts.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Steve flinches, and squeezes his eyes shut. “They don’t - I am supposed to be someone else. Good? The videos - I was -” he takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I was good. Now I bleed shadows. You have seen it. Asset - Bucky - ” Steve falls forwards, and the Asset is there to catch him.
“It’s okay. You remember what Sam Wilson said? It’s okay to let it out. It’s good you came out here to do it,” the Asset hums, pressing its flesh and blood palm to the nape of Steve’s neck. This is comforting to Steve, it’s learned.
Steve’s shivering. The Asset is used to the cold. “They want me - us - to be who we were. What if we can never be them again? I’m not Steve - I am the Kukol’nyy in a host body. The body is mine, but it was his. They do not see me. They see who I was.”
The Asset closes his eyes, tongue thick with words unsaid. It doesn’t know what to say. It was never good with words, it knows. Not as the Asset. As Bucky Barnes, it was a sweet-talker, always knew when and what to speak. The Asset was bred to be silent.
“I don’t like it here,” Steve whispers.
The Asset buries its face into the crook of Steve’s neck.
“Can we leave?” Steve asks.
“We’re safe here,” the Asset murmurs. Steve is silent. The Asset grits its teeth, at war with itself, and cracks its eyes open. It’s staring right into the stags glassy eyes. It sighs, and pulls back. “Do you have anything you want to take with you?”
Steve shakes his head.
The Asset stands, and offers a hand to him. Steve takes it without hesitation, and they disappear.