Chapter Text
As it turned out, waiting for a frozen supersoldier to thaw was incredibly boring. Olsen was slumped against a wall, looking miserable (good). If only there were some insects that could survive in this place, then he could amuse himself by pulling their wings off, Darcy thought. She was leaning against the opposite wall, eyes closed. The complete lack of real sleep she’d had was finally catching up. For the first hour or so, she’d “amused” herself with searching around on the HydraPhone, figuring out what was and wasn’t kosher for her to look up. Obviously anything about the Avengers or Captain America’s past. As it turned out, that included herself (first shock). Or the Battle of Manhatten (second shock). Or even Puente Antiguo (third shock). And she could only be zapped so many times before that got really, really old. So now she was just listlessly sitting, head against the wall with her eyes closed, wondering if it was cold enough that if she fell asleep she’d freeze to death, and not really caring if that did happen.
Pierce still stood by Barnes, periodically checking a readout in the slab, presumably his vitals
Was she being too easy-going? She’d just inquired about the particulars of this “job” like it had been any other. What were the parameters, what could and couldn’t she do, what was the goal? Should she have forced them to tell her, not just asked? Grudgingly make them drag her along every step of the process?
But what good would that have done? They’d still all be exactly where they were now, only perhaps with the threat of more “seminars” a real possibility.
She was just so exhausted. God, what even was the point?
The sound of a code being entered interrupted Darcy’s self-flagellation, and she opened her eyes to watch Pierce enter the final digits, and step back. Metal restraints sprung from the seemingly smooth slab to wrap around Barnes’ wrists, waist, and ankles, while a larger, cap-like device emerged from the side of the box and wrapped around his head. The internal mechanisms whirred, and the plates of the slab shifted, moving so the man looked like he was sitting upright in a chair, although he was restrained.
Pierce nodded at Olsen who - holy hell when and where had he gotten a machine gun from? - cocked his weapon and aimed it at the man.
A startled cry from Darcy went unheeded, but when Olsen didn’t pull the trigger immediately she realized the gun was likely a precautionary measure.
Electricity arced through the bindings and the machine, flashing and sparking so bright Darcy had to shield her eyes. Barnes’ eyes flew open, and his expression - previously solemn and blank - changed to one of pain and surprise. His teeth gritted, his jaw clenched, but a pained growl still emerged.
After several exceedingly long minutes - Darcy had to stuff part of her jacket in her mouth to prevent herself from yelling out, her own experiences and Montclair’s still fresh in her mind - Pierce relented, and the machine powered down, with the helmet part receding once again into the slab. Barnes was panting, his chest heaving up and down beneath the black tactical gear he had on. He didn’t speak, watching Pierce warily. Wow, the old pictures didn’t really convey it, but his eyes were startling. Darcy had seen several sketches and paintings that Steve had done of his old friend, so she knew intellectually that he’d had blue eyes, but there was an icy, cold quality to them now, the only real color in a man dressed completely in shades of black and grey.
Darcy found she was holding her breath, torn between curiosity at what might happen next, and fear. All was quiet in the bunker for several seconds, except for the sounds of Barnes’ harsh breathing, and Olsen shifting uneasily.
At last, Pierce spoke, low and guttural and Russian. He paused after each intonation, clearly demarcating what he was saying as a string of words, and not a sentence. Darcy had a brief flash of anger at herself for not having taken more of the “suggested” SHIELD courses, one of which involved memorization techniques in stressful situations. Even as she struggled to concentrate on what Pierce was saying, she felt the sounds slipping away from her.
As Pierce finished, a curious change came over the soldier in front of them. He had hardly been a beacon of emotion previously, but now he looked practically lobotomized. The slight wariness with which he’d watched them, the grit of his teeth against the electricity, the iciness of his eyes. It was as if someone had passed a filter over the man, and everything was dulled.
Peirce had clearly seen the same miniscule changes Darcy had, for he continued - still in Russian - at a much faster clip, clearly giving Barnes instructions or orders. This went on for a surprisingly long time, with Barnes nodding slightly when prompted, or responding with single words answers, also in Russian. Despite the enormity of the situation, Darcy felt her adrenaline receding slightly, as she struggled to concentrate on the incomprehensible exchange in front of her.
Peirce gestured at her, and Barnes’ eyes immediately locked onto hers. Darcy froze in place - somewhere between feeling like prey caught in the crosshairs, and fascination at coming face to face with a legend. He stood up - when had he been unshackled? - and made his way towards her, walking in purposeful strides that sent Darcy’s unconscious solidly towards the “prey” part of her hindbrain. She found herself backing up, at such a rapid pace she was afraid she’d trip, until her back hit the wall. Still, he did not stop, did not blink, until he was maybe a foot away. His eyes flickered over her cursorily, and he immediately stepped back with a sharp “ Da” at Peirce.
Maybe it had been a good thing she hadn’t taken any more SHIELD classes, Darcy thought dizzily as she sucked in air she hadn’t even realized she needed. Because she was pretty sure he’d just been assessing her threat level, and she’d never been so glad to be found wanting. She had no idea what he would have done had he found her threatening - or even what the cut off would be for that sort of thing with an undead super soldier - but she was very glad that she was likely solidly below that threshold.
Pierce chuckled, “I didn’t think so.” While he spoke in English, he clearly was still addressing Barnes. “Gather your equipment, and get in the vehicle outside. 10 minutes.”
Without another word, Barnes disappeared into the darkness at the other end of the bunker. Seemingly confident in Barnes’ ability to follow orders, Pierce turned, glanced at Darcy, and jerked his head towards the hangar doors. She braced as Olsen opened the hatch, and the wind barrelled in. Ignoring her rising irritation at herself for unquestioningly following orders, she made her way back towards the vehicle that was barely visible through the snow, clambering up into the back, with Olsen right behind her. Pierce and Bar- the Asset must have gotten into the front portion, separated from Darcy and Olsen, because no one else joined them before the machine rumbled back to life, and with a jolt took back off across the tundra.
As they arrived at the site of the Helicarrier landing, Darcy obediently made a move to open the door, but was stopped by Olsen. She watched through the window as Pierce walked towards the helicarrier loading dock, his silhouette growing smaller as they drove away. She suddenly felt very vulnerable, with just Olsen and the Asset, and was thankful that Olsen seemed to be brooding, rather than focussing on tormenting her.
A little while later, they arrived at a small air strip, where a much smaller plane sat ready to take off. Still completely in silence the trio made their way onto the plane, with Barnes taking the pilot’s seat. Olsen strapped Darcy into the back, hands only lingering slightly longer than she felt comfortable before taking the co-pilot’s seat.
The trip continued in silence as the plane took off, and Darcy found herself leaning against the complicated seatbelt, her eyes fluttering shut. She felt a slight sense of unease at being so defenseless in the same general area as Olsen, but somehow the presence of Barnes - best friend of Captain America - put her mind at ease, even as she knew it shouldn't.
When they landed - however many hours later - it was into an environment much more hospitable than the last. They were in a meadow. An honest to god meadow. Beyond it, she could see alpine mountains, also covered in greenery, with craggy grey rock peeking through. Darcy blinked rapidly several times, and elected to maintain her silence, as she was pretty sure if she said anything right now it would come out ass-backwards. Across the meadow, a small stone house receded into the surrounding forest.
Olsen grinned at Darcy, obviously enjoying her shock. “Welcome home, Darcy Lou.”
Gathering her wits, she croaked “What, no underground bunker? I’m a little disappointed, you guys have been such an evil cliche up until now, I was almost looking forward to it.” So, not her best quip, but in her defense this was a lot.
Olsen shrugged, and smirked at her. “If you want to be chained up, all you have to do is ask, Princess.”
Darcy rolled her eyes and turned away, but Olsen continued.
“We needed the Asset somewhere less remote, so he can easily be called for missions. This meadow, and the surrounding 100 or so miles, don’t technically exist. They won’t show up anywhere, not even Google Maps. A nice little cosy spot to stow you and that - “he grabbed Darcy by the shoulders and steered her to look at where Barnes was unloading supplies - “until one or both of you is needed again. And yes, this place is connected to the internet. After all,” and here Olsen grinned at her, and this close Darcy realized that several of his teeth had been shaved into actual fangs what the fuck , “we’re not complete savages.”
Behind Darcy, Barnes had clearly finished unpacking, and was starting to haul gear towards the stone house. Olsen grabbed Darcy’s chin, pressed a kiss to her cheek before she could react and reboarded the small plane, calling out behind him as he went, “Stay sweet, Darcy Lou!”
Darcy should have been furious, and while she did vigorously scrub at her face with her parka jacket - in which she was now seriously overheating - watching Olsen and the plane disappear into the blue sky was possibly the best thing she’d seen all day.
Of course, now she was really truly alone. With no idea where in the world she was. With Barnes. A complete unknown. As she removed her heavy coat, she couldn’t help shivering a little, despite the sweat that dampened the rough white shirt she’d been given. Hydra didn’t just leave people to their own devices. What exactly were they planning?