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"Boss, Mr. Barnes has activated the emergency stop on his BARF session."
Tony stilled, only half way to tightening a screw on the armor’s torso. "Code Blizzard?"
"His vitals are erratic, but does not indicate so."
Tony relaxed a little, finishing with the screw. The Winter Soldier hadn't shown up for over a year. It was unlikely but still nice to hear.
"Mr. Barnes is requesting to leave."
Tony nodded. As a precaution, if Bucky ended a session early, he had to be authorized to leave. "Steve?"
"He, Black Widow and Falcon have left on a mission to Brussels."
"Right, right," Tony said sighing. He did vaguely remember that. He wiped his hands on a mostly clean rag before throwing on a jacket and heading down to the re-purposed Hulk-holding room that Tony called the "Bucket." Steve's face alone when Tony told him Bucky would be having therapy in the BARF Bucket made the name worth it.
And the first smirk he'd seen on Bucky's face in days did as well.
Tony did a quick skim of the BARF data on his tablet as the elevator descended to the basement. Bucky had been doing these sessions for almost two years. BARF had been designed to re-experience and transform bad memories, and god only knew Bucky had a lot of them. It was still experimental, but Bucky's prolonged exposure had been enlightening, and vindicating. He'd made incredible progress, his therapy moving at a great rate. Until recently.
The readings all looked normal, but Tony would ask Bucky to get some scans on his hippocampus. An MRI was out of the question given the huge chunk of metal attached to him and Bucky's unwillingness to allow Tony to even scan it, let alone remove it.
The distrust left a sour taste in Tony's throat.
When Tony opened the door to the Bucket, Bucky swayed back, looking disoriented like he didn't know where he was.
"Hey, Snowflake."
Bucky blinked a few times, seeming to see Tony for the first time.
"You look like hell."
"I feel like hell."
Tony envied him his ability to admit that. "You having problems with the BARF? It doesn't seem to be working for you lately."
Bucky gave a self-deprecating smirk. Tony couldn't help but watch his hand as it carded through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. "No, no. It. It works a little too well."
Before Tony could ask what he means, FRIDAY piped up, "Boss, there's a report of a giant lizard in Pennsylvania."
Sounded easy enough. Tony looked at Bucky, who rolled his shoulders and straightened. "The trio are in Europe. How do you feel about a little day trip?" When Bucky gave a firm nod, Tony told FRIDAY to ready the quinjet.
Their simple operation ended up as all simple operations did. Complicated. The lizard turned out to be a dragon. A fire-breathing dragon. From a portal from God only knew where. Their plan of distract-and-contain turned into damage control and a fight to find a weak spot to tranq the damn thing. Tony flew, distracting him and getting blasted with searing heat that even his suit was having trouble enduring. Tony tried telling Bucky to stay back, to wait for a good opportunity to snipe it with the tranq, but it didn't take long for both of them to get impatient.
"Cover me," Buck said before he suddenly appeared behind it. He was quick, dodging claws and a wicked smart tail with powerful grace.
When it began to turn its attention on the sniper, Iron Man grabbed a hold of its muzzle, taking a full brunt of fire to his left side. Tony cursed at the heat.
"Got it!" Bucky yelled into the comm, and Tony could see him stab the injection to a softer area under the hind leg.
The dragon made a distressed sound. Tony's relief was short-lived. Before it passed out, it gave its head one last violent shake that sent Tony flying away.
When his long skid on the ground finally stopped, Tony groaned. "FRIDAY, diagnostics?"
Friday's lack of response confirmed the suit was fried. His whole left side was more or less fused together, so he started opening the manual clasps on his suit. He managed to get most of it off, but ran into some difficulty trying to disconnect the arm from the chest plate.
"Here, let me help."
Tony startled, and struggled to look behind. The mop of hair he could see out of the corner of his eye relaxed him. "If you can just get the arm off, I can unlatch the rest of the suit. Don't worry about damaging it. It's taken a beating already. It's mostly scrap."
Bucky grunted, and began fumbling with the joint. Something in the movement seemed awkward as it pushed against Tony. It was really taking him longer than it should have. Bucky's breaths came in short bursts, and the hot puffs against Tony's neck were distracting.
When Bucky finally got the arm detached, Tony made quick work of the rest of his suit. When he turned around, his suspicions were confirmed.
Bucky's left arm hung dead against his side. His face was tight, his jaw set. His eyes had a faraway look to them, like he was disconnecting. Tony was at least confident the Soldier wasn't going to suddenly rear his head. The Winter Soldier always appeared like a blank slate, like there was nothing going on inside that head of his. Bucky seemed to be turning inward.
"You okay?" Tony asked.
Bucky's head jerked, like he couldn't decide if he should nod or shake his head.
"Is this something residual? From the BARF?"
Bucky looked at Tony, not like he was looking through him, but as if he was seeing something else. Or someone else. Bucky had mentioned this once before, that after a particularly intense session, he would leave the BARF VR, and yet still see glimpses of it, like his mind playing tricks on him. It was a side effect Tony had yet to look into, unfortunately. It would have to be rectified as soon as they got back. He'd have to push for that scan.
As for now... Tony hesitated, not sure how to proceed. He had no idea what the last BARF session was. Bucky wasn't all-out attacking him, which was nice.
"Bucky." When he didn't respond, Tony tried again. "Sergeant Barnes."
He flinched horribly. "Do it," he said roughly.
"Do what?" Tony asked quietly.
Bucky's face doesn't change. "Kill me."
Tony stared. "Why?"
Bucky didn't answer, but the despair on his face was answer enough.
Tony's stomach sank. He took a deep breath trying to bring in as much air as he could, but he still felt light headed. He had a strong inkling of just who Bucky is seeing right now.
"Hey, Snowflake."
He watched as Bucky blinked, his eyes focusing again. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything his face crumpled in pain. He clutched the metal arm to his chest. His breath moved between his clenched teeth. "Fuck."
"The arm?" Tony shifted closer.
Bucky nodded. His head fell back, and he swallowed down what was probably bile.
Bucky never liked Tony to look at his arm, choosing to do tune-ups and repairs himself. Tony doesn't bother asking this time, gently grabbing the arm and twisting it to see the large gash slitting his entire forearm from elbow to wrist. "Jesus. That tail got you good."
Bucky just grunted.
Tony hesitated. "I'm gonna take a look." When Bucky didn't refuse, Tony reached behind him into a compartment on the discarded armor thigh guard and took out a small tool kit.
It was quick work to get the panel off. And by off he did mean off. It crumpled to the ground under the little bit of pressure he gave it.
Tony poked around for a moment, but it was clear to see the major problem. "The power supply was damaged. You're lucky to not be leaking battery acid all over the place."
It was strange. Normally in a case of lost power, prosthetic limbs would discontinue all signals. It should just be a hunk of metal, and yet Bucky was still in pain.
Tony followed the connections up the arm and removed one of the panels on his bicep before discovering the problem. There was a feedback loop created between a smaller secondary power cell probably used for sensory input and the shoulder joint. "How could they have overlooked such a glaring design flaw?" he muttered, not actually expecting an answer.
"They didn't."
Tony stilled and looked up at him, incredulous. "What do you mean?"
Bucky was looking down at the arm blankly. It took a long moment before he spoke. "When they were first brainwashing me, they gave me a prototype arm. I refused to do what they wanted, and I fought. I would damage it."
Tony's brain easily jumped ahead. "They did it on purpose. So if the arm was harmed enough, it would just send real pain, as if it was a real arm."
Bucky nodded.
Tony gritted his teeth. Hydra never seemed to stop, did they? They kept leaving their mark wherever they could. "Well, I'm glad."
Bucky's brows furrowed. "You're glad they made removing it impossible?"
"Well, first off, it's not impossible. It's removable. It would just take a little more fenangling than anticipated. No. You fought. You didn't let the bastards get to you."
"They did."
Tony shook his head. "Maybe." he admitted. "But it took them a damn long time. The Winter Soldier didn't show up for years after Bucky Barnes was thought to be dead. You fought."
Bucky didn't say anything, but Tony could feel his eyes on him.
"This is why you didn't want me looking at the arm, wasn't it?"
Bucky nodded, and Tony's disquiet over the whole thing started to dissipate.
Tony poked around in the arm a bit. He could always try to disconnect the secondary power, but god only knew if Hydra had designed a contingency for that too. "I can reverse this, but not now. I need a full scan to do that. But I can take the pain away."
Bucky watched him as he went back to this suit. He pried off a panel and started gutting out the wires. It would be short, maybe six feet, but it would have to do. With a few quick connections, he attached them to the inner workings of Bucky's arm. Next he undid a small panel on the side of his arc reactor.
Bucky jolted, his mouth open. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Attaching your arm to my own personal power supply." Tony fiddled with the wires before inserting it into one of the ports designed for the suit.
The arm jerked, and Bucky's shoulders slumped. He breathed in a shaky breath.
"Better?" Tony grinned.
Bucky nodded.
Tony groaned as he got up. He'd taken quite a beating, and kneeling down didn't help. "Come with me, Snowball," Tony said, giving the wire a gentle tug like a leash.
Bucky rolled his eyes, but was fighting a grin. He got up and followed Tony to another piece of discarded armor. "What now?"
Tony poked at the chest plate, and then the forearm plating from the side that hadn't been damaged. No response. He sighed. "Well, now we trudge our way out of this valley and to the quinjet. We let SHIELD pick up Puff the Magic Dragon, and we take a very long and very well deserved nap."
Bucky smirked, but dutifully followed him through the scorched earth to where the quinjet had been landed.
"I've always admired you, Tony," Bucky suddenly said.
Tony glanced at him incredulously. "Sure. There's a lot of reasons to admire me," he said, and Bucky smiled. "But, uh, why do you?"
Bucky's face slowly became blank, and he slowed to a stop. Tony stopped too, and turned back to him. "You managed to escape. They captured you, tortured you, demanded you make weapons to kill people. But you fought." Bucky closed his eyes, a tear escaping down his cheek. "You didn't lose yourself."
Tony knew it was impossible for Bucky's arm to be draining the power in his arc reactor, but a tightness was growing in his chest. He reached up and wiped the tear track on Bucky's face. Bucky looked at him surprised.
"I did way worse of my own volition. Maybe I didn't pull any triggers, but years of apathy—"
"No," Bucky whispered, which did better to silence Tony than if he shouted. "As soon as you found out, you stopped it. You would have stopped it eventually."
Tony wasn't so sure, but he didn't protest.
"You gave yourself a second chance. I never thought I deserved one. Thank you for giving me that second chance. For letting me use the BARF." Bucky paused and swallowed. "You're dying to ask."
"About what?"
"My last session."
Tony frowned. "Obviously. But I'm pretty familiar with not wanting to talk about certain topics." Bucky looked away, but Tony knew he wouldn't have prompted him if he didn't want to talk about it. "What memory are you having trouble with?"
The Winter Soldier said, "Mission Report: December 16th, 1991."
The breath left Tony's lungs.
When the Soldier blinked, he was Bucky again, and Tony could breathe again.
"Your mother, she's already dead." Bucky said, and Tony had to look away, closing his eyes. "But Howard. He grabs me, throws me down. He yells and screams and fucking beats me to a pulp. And I don't stop him. Because I know I deserve it. I fucking deserve it, but I can't." Bucky gritted his teeth, and his metal hand creaked under the pressure of his fist. "I don't let him do it. I cancel the simulation before the killing blow every time."
Tony let out a ragged breath. "You idiot," he hissed, grabbing either side of Bucky's face, who seemed too shocked to react and could only stare at him. "You idiot! You think I gave you access to BARF so you could practice some kind of mental self flagellation? It's supposed to be helping you! Jesus, tell me you don't relive every memory like this!"
Bucky's voice was ragged. "No. This one is," his eyes slide away, "this one is just personal."
Tony sighed. "You idiot," he said again, pulling Bucky's head down and pressing his lips to Bucky's forehead.
Bucky startled and froze. After a moment, he gently put his hands on Tony's waist.
Tony wasn't sure how long they stood there, but eventually they pulled apart. They made the rest of the trek to the quinjet in silence.
--------
Tony stood outside the BARF Bucket. He honestly felt like he needed one at the moment. He wore one of his father's old suits from storage, which fit distressingly well except for some give in the shoulders. His hair was slicked the way dear old dad liked it too. He drew the line at coloring his hair gray though. His hair was already far too gray for his comfort.
Tony hadn't told Bucky exactly what he was planning on doing, he'd just told him that he'd fix it.
He scrubbed his hands over his face. This was such a bad idea. Why the hell was he doing this?
Because Bucky didn't deserve this. He was a victim of circumstance. Tony had overreacted in Siberia, but he had a chance to make things right.
Tony authorized the door to open and entered. The room was dark and it took him a moment to gain his bearings. One moment he was nowhere, and then he turned. It was the car, already crashed. As much as he fought it, Tony's eyes slid to his mother, already still in the passenger's seat. Anger pooled in his stomach like lava.
Tony felt more than heard a presence, and he turned to see Bucky standing there completely still. "You fucking did this."
Bucky flinched. Because it was Bucky. Who was beginning to shake. Not the Winter Soldier. Not the one responsible.
Tony stomped over to Bucky, who flinched again like he was anticipating a blow. Instead, Tony threw his arms around him, embraced him tightly.
"It's okay," Tony said roughly. "It's okay. It wasn't you. It wasn't your fault."
Bucky sobbed into his neck, and hugged him back. "I'm so sorry," he said over and over. "Your wife. Your wife, Howard."
Tony swallowed, not fighting his own tears. "Hydra killed her. Not you."
Bucky let out a wretched sound, collapsing. It took all of Tony's strength to bring him down gently. They sat on the ground clinging to each other, next to the crashed car, next to the memory of his parents.
It was a long time before Bucky stopped crying. Tony imagined he felt the same way, tired and emotionally drained.
Tony gave a silent signal to end the simulation, and he watched as the dark road faded to a clean grey room.
He petted Bucky's hair. "Hey, Snowflake."
Bucky jerked, but didn't pull away. He tightened his hold, and was silent for a long moment. "Thank you, Tony."
Another tear rolled down Tony's cheek, and he smiled.