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Under the mask, Arachnis' features were screwed up in a snarl, a hissing sound clawing through his throat. He was low to the ground, coiled and ready to pounce given the barest incentive. His head was thick with fog; nothing made sense except a single command, drilled into him from before he could remember.
FIGHT
Normally, he'd comply easily enough. Three against him? Cakewalk. Three Avengers against him? Different story.
Anthony "Tony" Edward Stark AKA Iron Man
Prev. Merchant of Death
Affiliations: Stark Industries, formerly S.H.I.E.L.D., Avengers, Damage Control
Samuel "Sam" Thomas Wilson AKA Falcon
Prev. Technical Sergeant (E-6), U.S. Air Force
Affiliations: formerly United States Air Force, formerly Air National Guard, Avengers
and his target,
James "Bucky" Buchanan Barnes AKA the Winter Soldier also White Wolf
Prev. Sergeant (E-5), U.S. Army
Affiliations: formerly United States Army, formerly 107th Infantry Regiment, formerly Howling Commandos, formerly HYDRA, formerly Rogues, Avengers
HYDRA was a corpse, but a few maggots remained and said maggots had given Arachnis the mission: locate the Winter Soldier. Kill him by any means necessary.
Arachnis barely recalled the few times the two had worked alongside each other. Easy missions ending in waves of blood.
Now, here he was, having severely underestimated his opponent. The steps leading up to this moment were straightforward, hack into the Compound security(failed. Enough opposition had met him upon attempt, that once he succeeded, he hadn't realized it was a trap), tap the audio(failed. Same reason), break in(success, sort of), slit his target's neck as he slathered plum jam across some toast(also, failed).
The camera feed had been a loop, the audio was staged, his "break-in" was permitted, and the target could easily kill someone with a slice of toast, never mind the endless ways to kill someone with jam.
But then, the target didn't. The hesitation didn't go unnoticed by Arachnis, but he was too busy planning an escape to truly ponder it.
Which brought him here, on the roof of the Avengers Compound, surrounded by two Avengers(they only managed to catch up with him because they could fly), with the third, his target, soon to arrive, no doubt with others in tail.
Iron Man and Falcon weren't coming down on him though. They merely hovered. They were talking amongst themselves. Arachnis couldn't hear Stark, either because Stark’s suit regulated what could be heard by outsiders, or he simply wasn't speaking, but Wilson was displaying clear signs of agitation.
"What do you mean don't do anythin'? ... Know‽ Tch."
The roof access door slammed open and Arachnis crouched lower, his senses dialed to eleven, flesh burning.
"You were sent here to kill me, right?" Barnes yelled across the twenty feet between them.
Arachnis answered with silence. Stark spoke in his stead.
"He tried to hack my systems - which, cute - then tried to slit your throat. So, I'm gonna guess yes, Barnes."
Barnes ignored the billionaire and kept his gaze on Arachnis. Arachnis, built to be unnerved, found the intention behind his eyes to be incredibly unnerving. Arachnis read no harm there, no ill intent or anger, which would be justified, expected. All there was to the blue was panic, and... Hope? No.
Arachnis shifted and his neck prickled as Stark's repulsors powered up.
Barnes was muttering under his breath and Arachnis' heightened hearing picked up his words easily. "C'mon, c'mon. I know you."
Arachnis tensed. Was the target recalling Arachnis' fighting style from the times they worked together? So he could take him down that much quicker?
Barnes' eyes blew wide, realization and recognition flickering there. He held his hands out placatingly and lowered himself slightly, taking a step forward. "Semenov."
Arachnis didn't respond. That was his handler's name. Barnes' knowledge of the man wasn't strange.
"Siberia."
The compound they were kept, occasionally crossing paths outside of missions. Again, not strange.
"Ideal Federal Savings Bank."
That was the last time they had been in the same building. Arachnis was supposed to assist him in a mission, but plans were changed and they never saw each other.
"Sono io. Pensare."
It's me. Think.
Arachnis' agitation was spiking. It was now he was realizing that with every statement, his target was taking steps closer. There were ten feet between them now.
Barnes' brows drew together in frustration.
Arachnis found the expression familiar.
The target gestured to himself, movement slow. "Winter."
Arachnis was becoming frustrated himself. The fog in his brain was growing denser. What was his target trying to do? Stall? His hacking into the Compound securities might have been permitted, but he now knew no one was inbound. No alarms had been set off, no backup. Nothing.
His target was still pointing to himself and his voice lowered, "Amato."
There was a sound of surprise from Stark.
Barnes ignored him, eyes still focused on Arachnis. He repeated the word, "Amato." Then gestured to Arachnis, "Malen'kiy."
Arachnis flinched, scuttling backward suddenly as a sharp pain stabbed him between the eyes. He stared at Barnes in panic, breath hitching.
With one hand still out, his vibranium hand, Barnes lowered himself to the ground. "Podumay, Malysh. Ty znayesh' menya."
Think, Little One. You know me.
Arachnis shook his head in refusal, even as his skull thrummed and prickled with protest. He twitched, the image of Barnes looking frustrated seconds ago morphing into another memory. At the Siberia compound. It's cold. A man is seated on a ratty cot, leaning against the stained concrete wall behind him with his head tipped back.
"Hm, Winter."
Winter dropped his head, looking straight ahead, across the room - a cell, really.
"Che c'è?" What is wrong?
Winter waved his vibranium hand in dismissal. "YA vspominayu." His brows furrowed together in frustration. I am remembering.
A girl stands. She's bald and stained and scarred, but her eyes are soft. She crosses the distance between them. He opens his legs to accommodate her and she crawls between them, settling on her knees as she reaches up to hold his head.
"Che cos'è?" She asks, massaging the pucker between his brows. What is it?
"Framenty. YA ikh ne ponimayu." He answers, leaning into her touch. He wraps his arms around her slim frame and draws her close. Fragments. I do not understand them.
Arachnis sucks in a sharp breath, his lungs on fire. Arms are around him, pulling him against a firm chest. He struggles, trapped, but then the weight of a cold, impassive limb drapes across his shoulders and his face is shoved into the junction between his target's neck and shoulder. Another sharp breath, a scent overwhelms him, and he trembles. His brain floods with images of Winter. Thousands of different images of him enraged, bloody, frustrated, afraid, worried, blank, exhausted, gentle, exasperated, fond. So much. So foreign yet as familiar as oxygen.
He clings to his target, to Winter.
Look... At me. Amato, me! Look. Listen. I will find you. You will find me. I will burn the Earth. You are mine. I am yours, Mio Amato. Per favore, tesoro, torna da me. Ricorda che ti amo. Mio per sempre. Non dimenticare.
Please, Treasure, come back to me. Remember that I love you. Forever mine. Do not forget.
The air thins as Arachnis struggles. The mask is ripped off and two hands grasp her bald head, fingers digging into her scalp and her forehead is pressed flush to Winter's. Arachnis sees blue and she dives into them, searching.
"See me, Malen'kiy. We're here. You found me. U menya yest' ty. Sosredotoch'tes' na mne. Ochen' khorosho." I have you. Focus on me. Good, you're doing so good.
Arachnis blinks, can feel the tears streaming down her face, and shudders as she emerges from an ocean of memories. She stares into the blue, clutching the man, and breathes him in.
Barnes sees the recognition in her eyes, the small smile playing across her lips, and smiles back, soft and sad but filled with relief and joy.
"Hello, Little One." He whispers.
The weight on her chest lessens with his words and she chokes on a laugh.
A breath of fresh air, pure and invigorating. "Winter."