Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Winter Soldier is never truly alone.

His new handlers may have left him unsupervised in what would be an impressive display of trust if it wasn't for the ever present AI in the ceilings.

But that doesn't mean he's alone.

Winter is sat on a sofa in the communal floor of the Avengers tower, knitting needles and a ball of navy colored wool in hand. He doesn't technically know how to knit, it's not a skill Hydra thought to give him. But Bucky Barnes does.

Bucky's voice is gentle in the back of his head, guiding him through the steps.

'This is a pointless task.' He grumbles, voice still rough from disuse. They've been in the Tower for three weeks but he still hasn't spoken to any of the inhabitants. He's too on edge to let Bucky take control of the Asset. But Bucky doesn't seem to mind, just gently guides Winter through what he needs to do.

Least you get full balls of yarn. Bucky says lightly. I used to have to knot together scraps to make anything.

'I still don't understand the purpose.'

It's relaxing.

'I do not need to relax.'

In the back of his head, Winter hears Bucky laugh.

You get something out of it at the end too. Used to be the only way I could get enough blankets to keep Stevie warm in winter. Not that he needs it now, the muscles probably keep him warm enough.

Winter hums in confirmation, ignoring the smugness that radiates from Bucky.

He always likes seeing Bucky's memories of growing up with Steve. They're warm and happy. During their time with Hydra it was a soothing reminder that life outside Hydra existed.

'I still don't see how it's supposed to be relaxing if it's getting caught in the plates of the arm every time I loop it over.'

Not a problem most people would have to deal with. Bucky admits. Why don't you try-

He's cut off as the elevator at the far end of the room opens. A man shuffles in and Winter readjusts his grip on the knitting needles to weaponize them. They may not be strong but they would certainly go through the man's neck with enough force.

Don't stab him just yet. Bucky warns him. I think he might be one of Stevie's new pals.

As the man stumbles further into the room, Winter takes a good look at his face. He recognizes it from both Steve's pictures and old Hydra reports on a dangerous enemy.

He doesn't think Hawkeye looks all that dangerous as he flops onto the sofa. He's unarmed and his clothes look like they've been worn for a week in a row, soaked by sweat, dirt and blood. His skin is dangerously pale and there are heavy bags under his eyes.

'Agent Barton.' Jarvis, the building's AI, says. 'I can alert medical-'

'No doctors!' Hawkeye responds quickly, glaring at the ceiling. 'You know my rule J.'

'I do, Sir. But I am afraid Agent Romanoff is not contactable at the moment.'

'What do you mean?' He grumbles, pulling a pillow over his face as if the lights are hurting his eyes. 'Where's Nat?'

'The Avengers are on a mission which has taken them off the planet. They are currently unreachable.'

Winter and Bucky both shudder at the thought of Steve being lost in space.

'Explains why they didn't pick up the distress signal.' Clint grumbles. 'Thought that might be their way of saying I was kicked off the team when they ignored my SOS.' He shivers, pushing back the sweat soaked hair from his forehead.

'Agent Barton. If I may, can you advise what has happened so I can provide the Avengers a report when they are contactable?'

Hawkeye waves a hand dismissively. 'Usual stuff.' He says groggily, sounding like he's about to fall asleep or lose consciousness. 'Kidnapped, tortured, freaky experiments. The usual.'

Winter's mind stutters at the thought of experiments. The sound of crackling electricity buzzes through his head.

Don't think about all that now. Bucky tells him. He needs our help.

I don't know how to help him. Winter responds silently.

He looks cold, we have to warm him up.

Winter looks down at the blanket they've been making. I don't think this is big enough.

There's a light chuckling at the back of his head. Let me take over.

It's too dangerous.

He doesn't look dangerous to me. Bucky points out as Hawkeye goes dangerously still.

Winter growls at the thought of leaving Bucky exposed but Hawkeyes breathing starts to get too faint to hear. Dammit fine. He scowls, letting Bucky take control of the asset for the first time in decades.

Bucky is unsteady on his feet after not moving for so long. But he quickly gets the hang of it and moves forwards to the couch.

'Hey pal.' He says, resting the back of his hand against Clint's forehead to check his temperature.

'No doctors.' Hawkeye grumbles.

'Aint a doctor.'

The man cracks one eye open. 'Are you…' He squints. 'Bucky Barnes?'

'Something like that.'

'So I'm hallucinating.' Hawkeye hums.

'Nah, Stevie caught up with me and brought me home.' Bucky explains. 'Think you can stand? You need a bath.'

'I just need a coffee. Then I'll be right as rain.' He says as Bucky helps him to his feet.

'Yeah sure thing Pal.'

'Clint.' He says, leaning against Bucky and letting the other man support his body weight.

'Alright Clint, let's get you cleaned up. Mr Jarvis, can you set a bath away in Stevie's rooms?'

He assumes Clint probably has his own floor of the Tower, like the other Avengers. But he'd rather be on familiar ground. They've been staying on Steve's floor for weeks now, so he knows it well enough.

'Yes, Sergeant Barnes.'

Bucky feels a bit twitchy at the name but he pushes past it to get Clint back into the elevator.

He gets Clint to the bathroom without issues and sits him on the edge of the bath while it runs. 'I'm gonna take your shirt off, alright?'

'Buy me dinner first.' Clint says with a weak, teasing smile.

'I'll get you dinner after, how about that?'

'Deal.' Clint hums, it looks like he’s fighting to keep his eyes open.

Bucky pulls the filthy shirt over his head. Despite all of the dried blood, there's no wounds on the man. The only thing out of place is the veins protruding against Clint's skin that look almost black.

What is that? Winter asks, tense.

No idea. Never seen anything like it.

'Trousers off, let's get you in the bath.'

'This better be one hell of a dinner Barnes.'

'Alright wise guy.' He says, tactfully looking away as Clint shimmies off the rest of his clothes and slides into the tub. Thankfully, Jarvis has thought to add bubble bath into the tub, giving Clint some privacy.

Clint hums in satisfaction as he sinks into the water.

'I'm going to wash your hair, alright?'

'I can look after myself.' Clint grumbles, but sits up to give Bucky better access. 'Get out of my head.' Clint hisses as Bucky lathers up his hair.

'I ain't in your head.'

'Not you.' Clint sighs. 'The goo… The poison. Venom…' He shudders. 'Hey J, if this thing kills me, Natasha gets all my stuff okay? She knows that already, but if my brother comes lurking before she gets back, he doesn't get a cent, you hear me?'

'Understood Agent Barton.'

'You're not gonna die. It's a bad fever. We ca-'

Clint shakes, grabbing the edges of the tub tightly. For a brief second, his eyes go entirely black.

Winter takes control again in a split second, pushing them backwards.

He needs help!

There's something wrong with him.

Winter scowls, grabbing Clint's arm and lifting him out of the bath. 'You're clean enough.'

'What happened to the nice Brooklyn guy?' Clint frowns as Winter throws him a towel.

'I protect him from threats.'

Clint looks at him for a moment, as if he's trying to solve a puzzle, before shaking his head. 'I should be flattered but I don't feel like a threat right now.'

Get him some clothes to change into. Bucky says, sounding annoyed at being ousted from the body.

Clint leans against the tiled wall, shaking.

Clothes, Winter. Come on now.

Winter growls and storms into Steve's bedroom, grabbing the first clothes that come to hand. The soft tracksuit pants will be too big for Clint, just like the hoodie with the Captain America shield emblazoned on the front. But it's better than nothing.

'I don't need you to heal anything.' Clint is saying when Winter comes back into the room. 'Leave my ears alone, jackass.'

He's talking to himself…

Who would do something so crazy? Bucky teases. Help him get dressed okay? He's unarmed and you're stronger. We're fine.

Winter pushes the clothes into the man's hands, glaring at him.

Clint doesn’t seem phased by Winters attempted intimidation. He tiredly pulls the clothes on before shuffling towards the bed and collapsing on it.

Give him a blanket so he won't get cold?

Grabbing the nearest blanket, Winter tosses it over the man and stalks out of the room. They fall back onto the couch.

Hey, can you ask the fella in the ceiling about Stevie? What's the punk doing in space?

Winter glances up at the ceiling. He opens his mouth but the words don't come out. Without orders, without permission, the Winter Soldier isn't supposed to speak. The phantom feeling of a black, heavy mask presses against his face.

That's alright. Bucky promises him. Stevie will be fine. He always is. You want to try knitting again?

Winter moves the couch so he can watch the door of Steve's bedroom. He sits and stares at it, knife in hand.

Alright pal. We can keep watch. I'll keep you company.

Chapter Text

Bucky manages to get a few hours of sleep but Winter can't relax. He gets even more twitchy without Bucky in the back of his head telling him stories, but he resolves to keep a watch for whatever the hell it was that turned Clint's eyes black.

The archer himself emerges late in the morning, stumbling out into the living room.

He looks around blearily, eyes settling on Winter. 'Not my floor.' He mumbles, more to himself than anything. 'Coffee.' He decides, heading towards Steve's kitchen.

Winter gets up from his position on the couch and follows.

'You know, my leg was broken when I got out of the facility.' Clint says conversationally, making a beeline for the coffee machine. 'They smashed it up with a hammer. But now it's totally fine.' He sighs as the machine whirs to life, turning to lean against the counter. 'I think I'm going crazy.'

That's how it started with us. Bucky says in the back of his head. Nazi experiments and then suddenly we can heal faster.

'I mean, I'm hallucinating Bucky Barnes, so I'm definitely crazy.' Clint hums. 'Wonder what my subconscious is trying to tell me with that one.'

'Sergeant Barnes is no illusion, Sir.' Jarvis tells him. 'While you have been on mission, Captain Rogers was able to track down the Sergeant who was operating under duress as Hydras Winter Soldier.'

Clint's eyes sharpen, looking Winter up and down. 'Huh.' The coffee maker beeps and Clint turns to retrieve a mug, his hands shake the second he picks one up. Winter moves quickly, catching it before it crashes to the ground.

'Sit.' He manages to say, pushing past Clint to fill the mug.

Clint pouts but dutifully falls into a chair by the kitchen table. His mood changes the second Winter puts the coffee in front of him.

'My precious.' He hums, cradling the mug in both hands.

He's cute.

Hush.

Clint practically inhales the coffee, drinking it in one gulp without letting it cool down. He looks at the coffee machine longingly, holding out the mug for Winter. Winter considers it for a moment before rolling his eyes and snatching the mug out of his hands.

'Not very talkative like this, huh?' Clint asks curiously as Winter heads to the machine.

Winter doesn't respond, he just pours more coffee.

'Thanks.' Clint says, drinking his second cup at a more relaxed pace. 'I need it.' He argues quietly. 'Yeah, all-' His hand spasms and the cup flies off the table, crashing onto the floor. 'Aw, coffee, no.' He says, looking heartbroken.

With a stubborn look on his face, Clint gets up and heads to the coffee machine. Black tendrils shoot out from his arms, attaching him to the kitchen table.

‘No more coffee!’ A voice that doesn't belong to Clint yells.

Before Winter can really process what's happening, he has a gun pulled and aimed at the archer.

'May I advise you that if you injure Agent Barton, I have access to the Iron Legion.' Jarvis warns from the speakers in the ceiling.

Winter keeps his eyes on Clint who's fighting against the tendrils.

'If you're going to hitch a ride in my body, you need to get used to my caffeine addiction.'

The tendrils wrap around Clint's entire body, wrapping him in an inky black suit. The monster encasing Clint has jet black eyes and a frankly ridiculous amount of teeth. 'No more coffee! We are hungry!'

Don't shoot it. Clint's still in there.

We don't have many options.

Let me talk to him.

Absolutely not.

We can change back in a second if he gets close. Let me talk to him.

Winter hates the idea. But he also suspects it’ll cause a lot of problems for Bucky if Steve comes back and they’ve killed one of his new friends. Fine. But stay back.

The creature grabs the coffee machine and tosses it against the wall, shattering it.

‘Hey Pal, we haven’t been introduced yet. I’m Bucky.’

‘We are Venom.’ They say with a low rumble.

‘Venom, alright. What are you doing to Clint?’

‘We protect our host.’

In the back of his head, Bucky feels Winter bristle.

‘Yeah, I got a guy like that too. He keeps me safe, is that what you’re doing with Clint?’

‘Yes.’ Venom responds, mouth pulling back into a toothy smile.

‘Alright. Well you can stand down, okay? You’re safe here. This buildings probably the safest place in the world. And he’s just trying to get a cup of coffee. That wont hurt him.’

‘We do not eat coffee!’

‘Alright then. What do you eat?’

The grin gets wider, looking over Bucky. He can feel Winter itching to take the reins again.

‘Enough!’ Clint's voice calls out, the black tendrils slowly retreat, revealing Clint again. ‘They want to eat…’ Clint shudders. ‘Nope. Nu-uh. We’re getting rid of you.’ He grabs one of Steve denim jackets, throwing it on. ‘You coming?’

Bucky pauses, knowing Winter will have an opinion.

We need more intel. Winter reluctantly admits.

‘Sure thing.’ Bucky nods, following him into the elevator.

Clint is a bundle of nervous energy, his arms are crossed over his chest and he anxiously taps his fingers against his arms. He looks like he's about to say something, but the doors open and Clint quickly steps out into the parking lot, heading straight for a sleek black motorbike.

He grabs a pair of helmets and tosses one to Bucky who catches it reflexively.

‘...We’re a supersoldier.’

‘I’m not getting pulled over by the cops because you're not wearing that. Get it on.’ Clint says firmly, putting his own helmet on and throwing his leg over the bike.

Reluctantly, Bucky puts the helmet on and joins him.

‘Hold on tight.’

The bike jolts as Clint kicks it into gear and Bucky reflexively wraps his arms around Clint's waist. He scowls as he hears Clint chuckle. ‘Just drive.’