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The Winter Soldier was pretty sure it had something to do with the programming from HYDRA, all those electric shocks they pumped into his head to burn away the man he'd once been. It could have also been something about the cobbled-together serum but The Soldier didn't think so. The repeated electric shocks made more sense, considering the damage they had wrought upon his brain tissue. Still, he couldn't know for certain. All he knew was that HYDRA had succeeded. He wasn't the man he'd been before.
He hadn't realized it at first, when Captain America, Falcon, and Black Widow finally managed to track him down and drag him back to a glass cage in a tower in New York, Tony's tower. He hadn't remembered that there was someone he used to be, someone before the asset. Rogers would always come down and talk to him about Bucky Barnes, tell him that was who he was, who he could be again. The Soldier seemed to be the only one who understood he would never be that person again. It wasn't until the memories started coming back that he was able to tell what a difference there was between who he was then and who he was now.
Bucky Barnes had been friendly, outgoing, enjoyed connecting with people. The Soldier would rather they didn't exist. He didn't see a value to human life, saw them as little more that problems to be solved, variables that could stand in the way of the mission. The Soldier didn't see the point in even pretending to be that person anymore. Until the day he finally met Tony Stark.
Rogers had talked about Tony before, of course, but it hadn't interested The Soldier at the time. Rogers's words had turned the fascinating, brilliant man into something made to fit in a box. The Soldier considered killing him for the insult, but it would be hard to get away with. And Tony would be upset if Rogers died. The Soldier didn't want to upset Tony.
From the moment Tony had swept into The Soldier's containment area, he'd filled the room with light and energy and warmth. The Soldier, who couldn't remember being warm in even a single one of his memories, felt a rush of heat through his chest. He knew he'd been through heat waves in Brooklyn, had been sent into desert after desert by HYDRA, but this was a heat on the inside. It burned through him like HYDRA's programming, giving him a hit like he hadn't had in so long.
The genius had been talking when he'd entered, fending off what were obviously Rogers's protests to his very presence before switching over to a back-and-forth with JARVIS, whom The Soldier had come to know well. It was nearly a full five minutes before Tony actually turned his attention on The Soldier, making him wait for it. His grin poured even more light forth and The Soldier was grateful to have had those minutes to collect himself enough to actually be able to listen to what Tony was saying.
Tony had no problems giving The Soldier exactly what he needed. He gave orders, made decisions, and set goals left and right. He gave The Soldier a sanctuary of order when the others had tiptoed around anything that so much as sounded like a request. It'd made The Soldier a bit weak in the knees right from those very first moments and he decided that it was this man, Tony, who would be his new handler. The Soldier wanted to be closer to Tony, to touch and feel and taste every inch of him. Tony's parting promise of, "As soon as you start getting back to yourself, we'll get you out of that fishbowl," was taken fully to heart.
The Soldier poured over his memories of Bucky Barnes, paying close attention to every mannerism and quirk. He practiced with JARVIS, and later perfected the mimicry with Rogers and the other Avengers. They irritated him, more than anything else, but they were a means to an end. He was being let out of his cell less than a month later, grinning falsely at the clearly-overjoyed Rogers. Tony had been there, and it was hard to keep his eyes off of the brilliant inventor if only to fake a semblance of normalcy. Bucky Barnes would never had stared so appreciatively at a man.
Tony, thankfully, whisked The Soldier away to his lab. Apparently The Soldier's arm was of great interest to him. If that was what he wanted, The Soldier would be happy to give it to him. The Soldier stared at him the entire time he worked, fascinated by his hands, the way his movements didn't hurt the way HYDRA's had. Though Tony obviously noticed the lingering gaze, he said nothing. The Soldier took that as permission to keep doing it. Tony talked the entire time he worked, filling the silence that usually surrounded The Soldier. It was the closest The Soldier had come to feeling content since before HYDRA had burned him out of himself.
Tony kept odd hours, The Soldier knew because The Soldier watched. The Soldier was always watching, monitoring. It was actually surprising how long Tony was able to function on how little sleep he got. It took The Soldier nearly a week to slip by JARVIS's security far enough to figure out that Tony had nightmares every time he slept. JARVIS had been more than willing to provide the information on where the nightmares came from when The Soldier expressed the desire to make them stop. The AI was also just as willing to assist The Soldier in compiling a list of all those involved in the various incidents who continued to live. As soon as The Soldier was allowed outside of the tower again, he would begin whittling that list down.
The Soldier's favorite activity was having Tony work on him arm, because it meant the inventor was close by, touching him. It took The Soldier a few weeks to build up the courage to touch him back, just a brush of flesh fingertips across Tony's arm. Tony had frozen for a moment, muscles tense, before relaxing and returning to his task. The Soldier touched him more after that.
Tony responded well to being touched. He'd arch into a skim of the fingers, lean against a conveniently-positioned shoulder, hum happily when the length of his spine was traced. The Soldier used every excuse possible to touch him, to bring him some form of happiness. The Soldier was greedy, though. He wanted more than just to touch, could not leave it just at that. He tried to suppress his urges. The Soldier did not have that kind of permission.
It was even harder to resist staking a claim on Tony, who had somehow made the jump from The Soldier's handler to The Soldier's territory, after watching him interact with the rest of the team. Banner was always stealing Tony away for some experiment or another. Thor had a maddening tendency to use his strength to move Tony about at will, much to the genius's loud complaining and the god's bemusement. Barton drank with the genius, something The Soldier could not do as alcohol no longer affected him. Tony and Romanov would have conversations off and on throughout the day in Italian, one of the only languages not in The Soldier's programming. And Rogers. He and Tony would share these smiles, these laughs and little moments. It made The Soldier want to slit Rogers's throat.
If it were not for the pain it would cause Tony if The Soldier killed them, he would be rid of the Avengers entirely. He'd envisioned their deaths countless time. He'd plotted it out step-by-step for each and every one of them. He'd done it for Potts, Rhodes, and Hogan, too. The Soldier probably plotted the demise of Fury more than anyone else. If Tony so much as hinted that he wanted them gone, The Soldier would see to it. He would be prepared, in fact.
The first time The Soldier saw Tony truly vulnerable, it was after returning from an Avengers call. The Soldier wasn't yet approved to leave the tower and since they'd been in the middle of doing some maintenance on his arm The Soldier had felt no need to leave the lab. Tony had come nearly-crashing back in, the armor smoking slightly and splattered all along one side with blood. Tony stumbled out, gaze unfocused, a bruise already blossoming around his left eye. He was bleeding from his temple. He didn't seem to even realize that The Soldier was there.
"Why didn't they leave?" He was murmuring, stumbling and catching himself just barely on the edge of a lab table. "I told them to get out of there…"
Later, The Soldier would find out that there had been three civilians in the building were Doom had planted the bomb. Tony had told them to run while he attempted to diffuse it. The suit had been enough to keep him from serious injury, but the others had not been so lucky. For now, The Soldier knew only that there was something wrong. He grabbed hold on Tony's elbows, startling the genius, and yanked him into The Soldier's chest. He then wrapped his arms around Tony's shoulders to keep him there.
"You are hurt."
Tony seemed confused for a moment.
"Yeah, I guess. Maybe. There was an explosion. JARVIS said the suit was too damaged, said he was pulling it back to the tower…Why wouldn't they leave?"
The Soldier pulled him forward, away from the wreckage that was the armor and toward the couch. He settled Tony down onto it and knelt in front of him.
"Allow me to assess your injuries."
Tony was distracted, though, and fidgety. He tried to stand so The Soldier grabbed his chin and forced him to look into The Soldier's face. Tony's pupils were blown wide. It was possible he had a concussion. He was leaning forward, though, toward The Soldier. The genius's head tilted to the side and then suddenly their lips were pressed together. Tony moaned. Warmth poured through The Soldier's body as he pressed forward, pressed Tony back against the cushions of the couch. Yes, The Soldier thought, this was exactly what he wanted.