Chapter Text
When the Soldier is unfrozen, he’s given a mission he doesn’t get very often. He’s put in charge of training a new asset.
He’s done this a handful of times in the past. He was once tasked with training the Red Room’s Widows. Teaching the fragile little girls how to fight felt unnatural, but it seemed important to make them tough enough to survive. He also trained the assets from the extended Winter Soldier programme. That project didn’t end well. They were too bloodthirsty and impossible to control, so they had to be frozen more permanently than the Soldier.
This one seems different. A short, muscular blond man stands before him. He’s covered with injuries that should be treated but have been left open to prove a point. A stiff black mask covers most of his face, the Soldier thinks that he must have talked too much for Hydras liking. He’s very familiar with the weight of those masks.
They call him Ronin.
Before the chill in the Soldiers bones recedes, they’re thrown into combat training. Ronin is reluctant to fight at first but the shock collar around his neck is enough to encourage him into action.
The handlers give Ronin a collapsible sword. He twirls it in his hand to get a good feel of it. It’s obviously not a style of weapon he’s used to, but he adapts quickly. It’s a long and hard fight, but Ronin hasn’t been given the serum yet. After hours, he starts to tire and the Soldier knocks him out with the metal arm.
Their handlers throw the Ronin into a holding cell and assign the Soldier the task of making sure he doesn’t escape.
He stands by the cell door and watches. Ronin's mask has been removed so he can eat, so the Soldier gets a real look at the man's face. His eyes are framed by heavy dark circles and cheek bones look too prominent, suggesting Hydra has had him for a while. Small tufts of blond stubble highlight his jaw, the Soldier notices the man's jaw start to twitch as he slowly brings himself back to consciousness.
Ronin's eyes snap to the Soldier and he scrambles backwards, resting his back against the wall of the cell. He takes a few deep breaths, glaring at the Soldier while he catches his breath.
The Soldier can’t help but think that he looks too thin. He grabs the bottle of water and the protein bar from the box of supplies and walks over. Ronin flinches as he approaches, but seems desperate enough to accept it. He drinks the water greedily, gasping when he comes up for air.
His eyes skim over the Ronins' injuries, categorising what needs immediate medical attention.
Ronin clears his throat. ‘You here to kick my ass again?’
The Soldier shakes his head. ‘I’m here to guard you.’ He says. It’s the first words he’s spoken since he was unfrozen, his throat feels rough. Each word scratching its way out.
‘Hmm.’ Ronin screws the lid back onto the bottle. ‘You have a name?’
‘My designation is Winter Soldier.’ He tells Ronin. ‘Mostly they call me Soldat or the Asset.’
Ronin opens the wrapping of the protein bar, sniffing it suspiciously. ‘What was your name before this?’
The question doesn’t make any sense. The Soldier doesn’t know how to respond. ‘There was no before.’
‘You were born here?’ He asks, hunger winning out over suspicion he takes a bite.
The Soldier frowns, trying to process the question.
‘Nevermind.’ Ronin shakes his head. ‘There any surveillance in here?’
‘Just me.’
‘You’d stop me if I tried to escape?’
‘That is my mission.’
‘Hm.’ Ronin finishes his protein bar and fiddles with the shock collar on his neck.
‘Be careful. It will shock you if tampered with.’
‘What do you care?’
Another question the Soldier can’t answer. He takes the other water bottle from the supplies box, the one meant for him. He unscrews it and reaches for Ronin’s arm. ‘If you don't clean your injuries, they will become infected.’
Ronin watches him carefully but doesn’t pull his arm away. The Soldier carefully cleans the wound, moving away once he’s satisfied it won't cause further harm.
The routine forms quickly, they’re woken early and thrown into combat training for most of the day. They’re separated while Hydra works on controlling Ronin's mind, and then he’s thrown back into their cramped cell.
The Soldier notices that the Ronin is good at pretending that the mind control is working. He says all the right things in training, obeys every order, but the Soldier can tell that the second they’re back in the cell he’s working on a plan to escape.
‘Clint.’ He says one night when the Soldier is cleaning a cut that crosses diagonally across the Ronins chest.
His eyes flick up to meet the Ronins, a silent question.
‘My name.’ He explains. ‘They keep calling me Ronin. But it’s Clint. Clint Barton. Hawkeye. They can try as many times as they want, they won't erase that.’
‘Clint.’ The Soldier repeats, he finishes cleaning the wound. His eyes scan across the man's chest, the skin is littered with scars. Some look far too old to be Hydras doing. The man, Clint, has lived with these for decades.
‘We got to work on a name for you.’
‘Soldat.’ The Soldier reminds him.
‘That’s not a name.’
‘It is what I’m called.’
‘Names aren’t like that. Names are like Tony, Steve, Bruce. You ever had a name like that?’
The Soldier pauses, passing Clint his shirt back. ‘What they’re trying to do to you… erasing you… they’ve been doing that to me for a very long time.’
Clint hums, it’s been an exhausting day and the Soldier can tell he’s fighting to stay awake. ‘We’ll have to work on that. See what we can get back.’
The Soldier shakes his head. ‘Rest while you can.’ He says, getting up and returning to his guard position by the door.
Clint huffs but accepts defeat. He grabs the ratty blanket that Hydra provided them and curls up in the corner of the cell to sleep.
After months of training, Hydra deem Ronin sufficiently conditioned and ready for his first mission.
The briefing is relatively standard. The assets are not spoken to, they’re expected to wait while the Hydra agents plan the course of action. The target is a tech-billionaire named Stark. The name seems strangely familiar, the Soldier thinks for a moment and then remembers. December 16th 1991.
It’s made clear that this is the Ronins assasination and that the Soldier is simply there to make sure he stays in line.
They’re dispatched to a meeting that Stark is set to attend at Pym Industries. Ronin is fitted with the mask again, just like the Soldier. They’ve always hidden his face on missions.
Clint is given a black suit with gold lining, a hood is pulled up to disguise all of his features. While they wait in the car park for Stark to leave, Clint leans against a pillar, twirling the blade in his hands.
The mask prevents Clint from speaking, but that doesn’t stop him from communicating with the Soldier. With his spare hand he signs, ‘What are your exact orders?’
The Soldier considers, surprised to find that he understands the signed language. ‘Stop you from escaping. Protect Hydras assets.’
Clint tilts his head, the Soldier doesn't miss the way his eyes fall on the metal arm. ‘Alright. No escaping.’ He signs.
‘Someones coming.’ The Soldier tells him, he realised early on that Clint's ears don’t work properly. Clint has been carefully hiding that fact from Hydra. The Soldier understands why. His metallic arm is a jarring reminder of what Hydra does to anything that doesn’t function at 100%.
Clint’s orders are simple. He has to dispatch Stark using the sword, if Stark's armour is activated they need to retreat. According to their intel, there's no way of getting through the armour.
Stark walks through the empty car park with a phone pressed to his ear, talking rapidly. As he walks to the car, Clint follows behind him. His footsteps are entirely silent, an impressive skill given the man's hearing loss.
He has a shot at Starks exposed back, but instead of taking it, he steps in and grabs the man's wrist. Stark drops his phone and the watch on his wrist explodes, it looks like dust pours from the watch, it gathers around the man's limbs and turns into armour.
Clint doesn’t retreat like he’s supposed to. He spins the blade in his hands, dodging as a beam of light shoots from the Starks hand.
The Soldier has his orders. He has to protect Hydra's assets, so he launches himself at the metallic man. Clint tenses and runs forward, putting himself between the pair. His back is to Stark and he raises the sword at the Soldier in warning.
In the confused pause, Stark holds a hand out threateningly. ‘Who are you supposed to be?’
The mission is compromised and they need to leave. The Soldier grabs Clint's arm with his metal hand, using his strength to pull the man away. They break into a run as Stark shoots after them.
The Soldier throws Clint into the escape vehicle, jumping in behind him and slamming the door.
As they drive away, their handler angrily removes their masks. ‘Soldat. Mission report.’
The Soldier knows exactly what will happen if Hydra finds out Clint actively sabotaged the mission.
‘Target deployed his armour. The mission was terminated, as per protocol.’
Clint's face is impressively blank, gazing straight ahead.
‘The asset Ronin acted within parameters, no assets were injured in the mission.’ He confirms.
They return to base in silence. They’re separated the second they reach the base, both being sent for their reconditioning.
When they’re alone in their cell again, Clint talks. More to himself than the Soldier. The Soldier recognises it as a way of cementing his memories, making sure Hydra didn’t take anything from him. He talks of a terrible father and a worse brother. He talks about the circus and a man named Phil. He talks about a woman named Natasha and their Avengers. He tells the Soldier that this isn’t the first time enemies have tried to control his mind and how he swore it would never happen a second time. The words don’t mean much to the Soldier but the gentle voice is comforting, he lets the babble of information wash over him as Clint rambles away about his life until exhaustion takes over.
The next mission is a solo one. The Soldier is sent to assassinate a man they call Captain America. It’s almost strange, leaving Clint behind to fulfil his mission.
The second the Soldier sees the Captain the mission is compromised.
A gun fight ends when they’re both plunged into the waters of the Potomac. The Soldier isn’t sure why, but he drags the Captain out, leaving him on the shores of the river.
Another failed mission means another round of conditioning. But it doesn’t erase what he saw. He knew the man on the bridge. He’s certain of it.
He’s sent back to the cell he shares with Clint. The door slams shut behind him and he waits until the footsteps are out of hearing range.
‘Bucky.’ He tells Clint. ‘My name is Bucky.’