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The Winter Soldier opened his eyes, looking up at his Handler.
Handler Pierce was staring at him expectantly. “Captain America knows you exist. You need to take care of him.”
The Soldier nodded.
He would follow his Handler’s orders.
****
Every mission had an observation period.
Handler Pierce, recognizing the importance of the mission he gave, had given the Soldier some time to complete the task. Much more time than the Soldier usually received.
“Captain America is a well-known figure,” Handler Pierce had said. “You must not be stopped by anyone.”
The Soldier assumed that the things that shouldn’t stop him was, for example, the agent monitoring him from the apartment across the street, or the various surveillance devices scattered throughout the apartment itself.
The Soldier shook his head. He would take care of the Captain regardless.
It was a job that seemed so easy in his mind.
***
The first step was to make staying in that apartment unbearable, even for someone who seemed to be living at war: a spartan house, no hot water, not enough food or comforts.
It was nothing more than a hiccup, but it made the Soldier's job more difficult.
Remaining silent wasn't too complicated.
The Soldier was a ghost, after all.
***
The Captain was pouring himself a cup of coffee, ignoring the fruit scattered around the kitchen and the added nutrients in the new apartment.
It wasn't good.
"You should eat more," the Soldier said, speaking from the couch. Before the Captain could comment, he continued. "Your serum would've affected your metabolism, so if my calculations are correct, you ought to be eating at least thrice the average human being."
The Soldier wasn't used to speaking, but Captain Rogers seemed to appreciate hearing other people's opinions.
The Soldier's observations were never wrong.
So, that didn't explain why the Captain nearly choked on his coffee before yelling, "HOW DID YOU GET IN MY HOUSE?"
The Soldier raised an eyebrow. Fortunately, he was only wearing the bottom of his uniform over his face. It made it possible to express his feelings with his eyes.
"Eat something and I'll answer you," the Soldier said. "There are some high-protein snacks in the cabinet to your left."
The Captain opened the cabinet, blinking when he saw the Soldier had given the correct information.
"How often do you come into my house?" the Captain asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Eat and we'll talk about it." The Soldier insisted.
He'd seen that look before.
But the Soldier knew how to win arguments with punks...
Where had that thought come from?
***
The lights were off.
The Captain was about to lie down in his bed (a much better model than the previous one in the room, which the Soldier had changed at the first opportunity. Carrying mattresses wasn't the hardest task the Soldier had ever undertaken.) when the Soldier said to him, “It’s supposed to get super chilly around 2 a.m., so you should probably wrap up warm. Here are some extra blankets.”
The Captain winced, nearly falling out of bed and aiming his defensive weapon, his shield, at the Soldier’s head.
The Soldier raised an eyebrow at his reaction.
“WERE YOU UNDER MY BED THIS WHOLE TIME?” The Captain shouted.
“It’s going to be cold.” The Soldier repeated.
The Captain stood still, staring at the Soldier, before slowly lowering his shield and taking the blankets the Soldier was still offering.
“…Are you going to sleep under the bed, or do you want me to get another mattress?” The Captain offered.
The Soldier shrugged before sliding back under the bed.
“Okay.” The Captain muttered, before sliding inside his bed once again.
***
“My name’s Steve, by the way.”
The Soldier poked his head out from where he was hiding, realizing that the Captain had seen him first this time.
“Soldier.” The Soldier introduced himself.
“Soldier?” Steve asked.
Steve sounded better than Captain, though.
No, that kid from Brooklyn, incapable of running away from a fight. He’s the one I’m following
“Soldier.” The Soldier nodded.
“Want to take off that mask?” Steve offered, handing the Soldier a cup. “Will you have breakfast with me? I bought too much.”
“No, I did the shopping for you.” The Soldier corrected. “You’re incapable of taking care of yourself. I had to take extreme measures to make sure you didn’t wear yourself out.”
“I can take care of myself.” Steve defended himself, blushing slightly.
“You weren’t eating enough, your sleep patterns were irregular, and training was a form of torture, designed more to exhaust your body than to train it.” The Soldier replied. “You don’t seem capable of taking care of yourself.”
Steve swallowed, looking away. “I usually had someone else with me.”
The Soldier nodded, fighting the strange urge to shake the punk and tell him he still had that person.
Strange.
“Move" The Soldier ordered, stepping forward and grabbing supplies from the cabinets. "I'll make some hot chocolate. And for me, some straws will be enough to feed me."
"Yes, sir." Steve joked, hurrying to get the straws for the Soldier.
***
"Report, Soldier?"
The Soldier answered. "The mission will be completed soon."
The Soldier could feel Pierce's smile, even if he couldn't see it. "Very well. Come back for maintenance later."
***
The Soldier raised his eyebrow when he saw the guests in Steve's house.
"You left him with SHIELD spying on him, not to mention Margaret Carter's niece two doors down, pretending to be a nurse on a highly infectious ward." The Soldier was staring at the Black Widow, Fury's faithful hound, the main culprit in his Steve's suffering. "Knowing Steve's history with his mother and Margaret Carter, it's just cruel and manipulative."
Tony Stark, another strange nod to Steve's past, stared at the Soldier. "Uh, Cap? You have a creepy being in your living room."
Steve, entering with glasses of water for everyone, nodded. "Oh, yeah, everyone, this is my emotional support assassin gremlin. He lives under my bed and follows me around. I still haven't figured out where he came from, but he's surprisingly good at making hot cocoa."
"This is the Winter Soldier." The Black Widow tensed. "Anyone who interacts with him dies."
Steve snorted. "Excuse me, but someone who haunted me for the way I fed seems very strange to me to be a ghost."
"He shot me!" Black Widow exclaimed. “A bullet straight through the body, killing its target. Goodbye bikini!”
“Yeah, I guess you look awful in those now,” Steve replied dryly.
He was such a punk.
“Do you have anything to say about this?” Black Widow asked, pointing at the Soldier.
“I don’t remember.” The Soldier shrugged.
“Don’t remember what?” Steve asked, frowning. “Shooting her?”
“Is he a murderer?” Stark asked, conjuring an Iron Man suit glove in his hand. “Is he dangerous?”
“I don’t think so.” Steve said, frowning. “Why don’t you remember?”
“After a mission, I have to go back for maintenance.” The Soldier explained. “Handler Pierce is very particular about this.”
“Pierce?” Steve asked. “Alexander Pierce? The other end of SHIELD has access to what you claim is the most prolific killer in the last... fifty years? How can he be responsible for the last fifty years of deaths? He's... I don't think he's even thirty!”
“I don't know.” The Black Widow pursed her lips. “Soldier, can you remove the mask?”
“It's not on my mission.” The Soldier shook his head. “Handler Pierce told me to take care of Captain America."
The Soldier didn't understand why the three suddenly tensed.
“Somehow I don't think he was talking about improving my sleep patterns and training and all that.” Steve swallowed. “Romanoff?”
“I'll call Barton.” The Black Widow nodded. “This seems bigger than we initially suspected.”
Stark asked instead. “Why didn't you kill him?”
“Handler Pierce?” The Soldier asked, confused.
“No, Captain America.” Stark gestured at Steve. “Taking care of him was killing him. Why did you pretend not to understand?”
“Killing Captain America is not what I do.” The Soldier shook his head. “The punk gets himself into trouble. Always in fights with men bigger than him. Kid incapable of running from a fight.”
Steve had stopped, staring at the Soldier.
“...Bucky?” Steve asked, hesitantly.
The Black Widow and Stark looked at him with pity.
“Cap, that can't be Barnes,” Stark said. “Barnes is dead.”
“You're with me, right?” Steve asked instead, staring at the Soldier. “Until the end…?”
“Until the end of the line.” The Soldier nodded.
“Can you take off your mask, please?” Steve asked, almost pleading. “You called me a punk… remember when I was smaller than you?”
“You were really cold.” The Soldier nodded. “It got better after the serum and went back to the same after the ice. That's why I took your mom's blanket. And the warm milk, warm milk helped.”
“It did.” Steve nodded. “Can you… please?”
The Soldier hated seeing that look in Steve's eyes, so he took off his mask.
Steve held his breath. “Buck…”
Bucky blinked, studying Steve a bit, before nodding. “That might be right.”
“Tony, can you…?” Steve asked, whipping around to look at Stark, something akin to prayer in his eyes.
Bucky hissed at Steve's neck, moving closer and massaging it, easing the tension.
Stark nodded. “Yeah, it looks like a lost puppy. I'll help.”
“Thanks, Tony.” Steve gave the man a huge smile.
Bucky frowned.
***
“What's your name?” Tony asked him, as he replaced the metal arm with a new device, Stark technology.
“James Buchanan Barnes.” Bucky replied.. “Some punk decided I wasn’t a James and that Buchanan sucked and called me Bucky. Then he decided I needed a nickname, and called me Buck.”
“Bucky’s a great name,” Steve grumbled behind them.
“Captain, I’m conducting a medical exam here.” Tony jokingly scolded him. “If you have to interrupt, you can watch while drooling on my window!”
Bucky snorted.
Steve had stayed close to Bucky as much as the Soldier had stayed close to Steve.
HYDRA would hate to know all their programming was worthless, putting Steve Rogers before Bucky Barnes.
Even the newly cryopreserved Soldier was ready to destroy the world for Steve.
Bucky Barnes with the Soldier’s abilities?
He would destroy all of HYDRA for Steve.
“Pain?” Tony then asked Bucky. “Try moving your hand.”
Bucky obeyed, enjoying the way his fingers rubbed together, even though it was a metal arm.
“I decided to put in tactile nerves only,” Tony explained. “No pain, but you’ll feel things.”
“You should try to talk sense into Steve,” Bucky suggested. “Or has science not reached those levels of development yet?”
“It hasn’t, unfortunately.” Tony replied amusedly, ignoring Steve’s groan. “Okay, all we need is the words to see if the deprogramming is complete. Who do you want in the room?”
“You can stay,” Bucky began, because Tony had earned his trust as he had Steve’s, “but Steve has to say the words.”
Steve hesitated. “Are you sure, Bucky? It’s… I mean, it’s a profound violation of your…”
“I know.” Bucky nodded. “And I know if I were to fall into the Soldier mindset, the only thing you’d do is have me make you hot chocolate because you’re always complaining that it doesn’t taste the same anymore.”
Steve snorted. “Well, it doesn’t.” Then, he looked cautiously at Bucky. “If you trust me like that…”
“I already told you I’d follow you anywhere,” Bucky said. “What more do you have to hear to know there’s nothing, past, present, or future, I’d ever put before you?”
Steve blushed. “Thanks, Buck. It means a lot, uh, that you still think enough of me despite leaving you in the hands of HYDRA…”
“Oh Jesus, shut up.” Bucky used his new metal arm to pull Steve closer, before kissing him on the lips, forcing his tongue into his mouth, closing his eyes and enjoying the moment.
When they broke apart, Steve murmured. “You know, you're Jewish, you shouldn't mention Jesus like that. It's blasphemy.”
“Bite me.” Bucky replied, before kissing Steve again. “And we talked about this with the Howlies, Steve, nothing ever happens to us Jews.”
Steve snorted, before kissing Bucky again.
“This is all great, but can we just stop so I don't see people old enough to be my parents kissing?” Tony asked.
Steve blushed, and Bucky coughed uncomfortably, having forgotten Tony was in the room.
“Sure, we can proceed,” Steve said, before walking over to Tony and hugging him. “Thanks, Tony.”
Tony blushed slightly.
Bucky was glad to see what was genuine hero worship instead of latent affection, otherwise he would have faked a Winter Soldier relapse just to beat Tony up a little.
“It was the right thing to do.” Tony shrugged. “Besides, it’s pretty fascinating what’s been done.”
Steve and Bucky stared at Tony.
“Horrible, but fascinating.” Tony corrected himself. “Only from a purely cognitive development standpoint and the different techniques employed so far.”
“I grant that.” Steve nodded. “Although you really need to work on your timing.”
“Complimenting the Nazis for screwing with my brain while I’m here…” Bucky grimaced. “That’s worse than seeing Steve offer peanuts to girls on dates.”
“Those peanuts were delicious.” Steve snorted. “The girls were missing out.”
Bucky nodded, looking at Steve. “Oh, yeah, they did.”
“Okay, I don’t want to be here.” Tony nodded. “Do your weird flirting or mating ritual and then call me for the words.”
Steve and Bucky ignored him.
They got more important things to do.