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"I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly into Bucky's unmoving shoulder. The "Asset" remained still. Neither speaking nor moving to comfort the other. But his eyes belied his curiosity, roving over Steve's trembling form.
The Captain had dragged him to see two different people; first a man named Tony Stark – he was familiar and well informed about all of HYDRA's potential targets - and then later a young girl named Shuri. Both had run multiple tests on him, reminding him of his days under HYDRA, yet also completely different. He heard them speaking to Steve in hushed, sorrowful whispers. Talking about severed and destroyed neuro-links, and it being impossible to 'fix' him, given the serum hadn't yet already.
Now they had returned to a large building - the Avengers Compound - where he had been instructed to share quarters with the Captain; Steve. Steve had a displeased expression every time the Asset referred to him as Captain – or even worse, Handler – and had told him to call him by his name instead.
"I d-- I don't know what's the right thing to do," Steve whispered, snapping the Asset's attention back to the current situation. They were seated on a couch, Steve having summoned (called for) him for the first time since they had arrived at the compound. "Please Bucky…"
Wet, red-rimmed blue eyes blinked up at the Asset. He held Steve's gaze, but didn't respond, and was somewhat distressed when that resulted in further sadness and tears from Steve. "I can't… I-- I'm too selfish to just, let you go." Steve gripped the loose shirt that Bucky was wearing.
The Asset recalled a conversation that Steve had had with Tony Stark. The older man had sighed and been frank. Telling Steve he had to make the decision on what to do with him; the Asset. Whether it was "better to put him out of his misery, or at least let him do some good". Steve had looked like he wanted to punch Tony, but held back because he knew Tony was only being forthright with him.
In the present, the Asset looked at Steve's sniffling, slumped form; so unsuited to his formidable size and strength. Opening his mouth, the Asset spoke unbidden, "Я жду приказов."
At the sound of his voice, Steve startled a little, then looked up, "wh-- what?"
Blinking, the Asset repeated in English, "ready to comply." He felt a spark of frustration when Steve's expression fell again, before the other finally steeled himself and breathed in deeply.
"Okay," answered Steve. "Ok, Buck."
Operative: Mission support. Seek and protect non-combatants.
The Asset picked his way through the pandemonium around him, ignoring the Avengers as he scanned the rubble. Picking up a flash of movement, he stalked towards it and with a firm grasp of his metal fingers, lugged a large slab of concrete out of the way to find two women; perhaps a mother-daughter duo.
“Are you injured?” he inquired, following protocol. They shake their heads, thoroughly shaken but otherwise unharmed. “Can you walk?”
The younger nodded, “y-yes, but my mother—” she almost stumbled back when the – frankly menacing – man nodded in understanding and reached into the small opening where they had been buried. He extended his arms in a motion that indicated his intent to carry her mother, and she watched as her mother blinked, then went readily and wrapped her frail arms around the man’s shoulders.
It would’ve made a funny sight at any other time; this towering menace of a man dressed in all black and messy chin-length hair, carrying her old mother like the cliché damsel in distress in old movies.
Once he had a stable grip, the Asset looked back at the other woman and spoke again, “follow me.” The woman nodded and scrambled out of the enclave, flinching immediately at the sounds of fighting but keeping in step with the Soldier. She stayed within arms-reach of him at all times, and noticed that he would pause whenever she would slow down in her hesitancy of moving amidst all the rubble and mess.
She shrieked when one of those… things landed in front of them, about to strike her mother and the man down. The man simply shifted his grip of her mother to his right hand, blocked the strike with his left, then pulled out the huge gun he had strapped on his back and shot the creature point-black, twisting and kicking it away for good measure.
The woman was startled when the man simply continued walking as if they hadn’t been interrupted at all. She hurried after him, and finally they seemed to reach the edge of the fighting, where two people in suits were waiting.
“Status?” asked one of the suits.
“Not injured,” replied the man who had saved them, bending down to let the older woman in his arms down. He turned to the younger woman, “follow them. They will take you to safety.”
The two suits stepped forward and introduced themselves as SHIELD agents, and began ushering them away. The other man simply turned and began walking back into the chaos. The young woman watched him go, stunned at the blasé attitude. She jumped when her mother patted her arm, nodding towards the man’s retreating back.
Remembering her manners, she quickly cupped her mouth and raised herself up on her toes – as if that would help carry the sound of her voice – shouting, “thank you!” The man didn’t pause or turn back, simply continuing on.
Before the two women were escorted to a makeshift medical area, the younger glanced back once more to see the faint outline of the man from earlier, this time he looked to be cradling two children – one in each arm – with what must be their parents flanking him. They were making their way back over again, and she blinked when two more suited agents seemed to have appeared at some point, waiting for the man to arrive.
Operative: Protect and deter.
Emma walked bravely up the steps to the building, flanked by two huge men that looked to her like mountains towering at her side. Her right hand was cradled gently in Steve’s – Captain America! – who occasionally shot kind smiles down at her. His words earlier echoed in her ear as she did her best to ignore the cameras and strangers surrounding the building.
On her left was Steve’s friend, Bucky. He hadn’t looked directly at her since they exited the car, but she somehow still felt comforted by the straight-backed, serious form he cut. In her left hand, in lieu of holding his, was the teddy that Steve had gifted her.
They passed the big wooden doors and down pews of more strangers, until they came to a gate that was short, but still taller than her. Behind the gate, she saw her father turn and catch sight of her. She instinctively drew back, tightening her grip on Steve.
“We’re here, Emma,” Steve murmured quietly. He kneeled down to eye-level with her, taking both her hands in his. “You’re still okay to do this? If you don’t want to, we can go back.”
She glanced around the room, at the multitude of eyes on her, at her father whose smile didn’t reach his eyes, at her aunt who was looking at her with pity. She looked back at Steve’s warm gaze, then turned to look at Bucky, who seemed to be eyeing her father like prey. “I can do it,” she declared bravely.
Steve smiled at her, hoping none of his worry would show. He nodded seriously and then stood up, unlatching the gate to usher her through. They walked her up the dais and into the stand, where an elevated chair had been placed for her. He lifted her up and seated her there, squeezed her hands one more time and then turned to go.
Emma blinked up at Bucky who still lingered. He reached up and she was surprised to see her teddy in his hands. He handed it over to her, and she hugged it tightly against her chest. Her fingers slid down the silky texture of the bear’s left arm, and then she reached out and ran her fingers down Bucky’s left hand. She smiled up at him at the cool feeling of the metal, and wasn’t bothered that he didn’t smile back.
He stared at her for a moment more, then turned without a word and followed Steve out. But not before blatantly turning his head to look over at Emma’s father, who shrinked away from his piercing gaze.
The proceeding resumed, and Emma did her best to listen and speak when prompted. Her fingers flexed against the teddy in her arms, helping to comfort her where Steve’s smiles from among the crowd couldn’t. When the man that had stood beside her father came up to speak, she squeezed the teddy, not liking him at all.
Finally, it was all over, and the lady in the wig sitting to the right and above her called for Steve to take Emma back. As Steve stood, Emma saw from the corner of her eye her father jump up and throw an arm out in her direction. A loud bang ensued which startled her, and her heart began pounding, tears immediately gathering in her eyes.
Bucky had leapt over the guard rails and had a hand on the gun, stopping the bullet as he wrenched it away. There was chaos in the courtroom, and Steve shook himself out to dash over to Emma, quickly scooping her up as she began crying in earnest.
“It’s okay, you’re okay Emma,” Steve soothed the girl clinging to him as he carried her out, uncaring of the disorder that was unfolding around him. “We’re going to take you back now, you’re safe.” He pressed the Buckybear to her free hand, hoping it would calm her down somewhat, but instead it elicited a completely different response.
Once her hands were on the familiar fur of the teddy, Emma was whipping her head around and upon seeing the doors of the courthouse they were exiting, began screaming outright, thrashing in his arms. Steve had to be careful not to drop her from her wiggling, “Emma! Emma, what’s wrong? It’s okay, Emma, you’re safe!”
He didn’t understand why she was so distraught, thinking that it was just her emotions catching up to her and the adrenaline wearing off. It took a few seconds before he registered that she was actually saying something amidst her screams.
“No! Bucky! We can’t leave Bucky! We left mummy and she didn’t come back! Bucky!!” she continued to scream. Steve whipped around, about to shout for Bucky to come, when the man in question appeared and walked over to them; looking completely unphased. Emma’s cries died down immediately, turning back to weak sobbing.
Bucky bent down to pick up the teddy that had fallen during Emma’s thrashing, and pressed it back into her arms. Before he could withdraw, Emma curled her small hands around his metal fingers, pulling to hug it and her teddy against her. Bucky looked down, but didn’t pull his hand away, and simply looked to Steve for direction.
Fondness flooded Steve at the sight of Bucky gently allowing Emma to grasp his fingers. “Let’s go,” he whispered, and they carefully made their way back to the car. It was a little awkward, but Bucky stood so that he was half shielding Emma from the reporters and crowd that was still gathered outside, blocking them out until they were safely in the car.
With only a second of hesitation, Steve leaned over and slowly transferred Emma’s now-quiet form into Bucky’s arms. The other didn’t protest, but also seemed a little taken aback as the little girl went easily and proceeded to curl up in his arms, exhaustion catching up to her.
She hugged her bear and Bucky’s metal arm as she dozed off, and Bucky carefully wrapped his other arm around her form, resting his fingers in her soft hair as he brushed loose strands behind her ear. He watched her contemplatively, something about this scene feeling familiar.