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They start by breaking him. Bones that were soft already from his battle with Steve and Barnes are shattered and reformed. He’s too exhausted to fight back for long. Too damaged. Too traumatized. He’s weak. He’s weak. He’s weak. He couldn’t even avenge his mother.
His mom. They killed her. He killed her. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s d-
Osen’.
Yad.
Tony’s screaming already as the pain shoots through him. He can’t keep his teeth clenched around the guard they’d shoved in his mouth.
Formirovaniye.
Vikhrevoy.
Metall.
He feels like his fingernails are coming off against the chair’s arms as he desperately digs them into the metal. The cuffs are biting into his wrists as his back bows away from the chair. They inject him while he’s strapped down. The needle is long, the liquid inside thick and viscous, and it burns like acid through his veins.
Podshipnik.
Sentyabr’.
Anker.
Pokinutyy.
The pain is all-encompassing. It’s all he can think about. It’s all he feels. It’s all he breathes. It’s all he lives. Like a barbed net, its sharpness swallows him whole, over and over and over. Tony’s mind tries to hide, tries to save itself, but the pain finds him even then. It burns away at his resistance until all he is crumbles, until he’s nothing but ash and dust.
Feniks.
There’s silence. His eyes open, clear and alert, as he blinks up at the ceiling, then at the doctor standing a few feet from him.
“Soldat.” There’s wariness in the doctor’s tone, a tired edge around it. This isn’t the first time. This isn’t even the twelfth. They allow him no rest, no sleep, while they try to wipe him clean.
“Ya gotov otvechat’,” the asset says, and there’s someone cheering behind them in the cold lab. He feels nothing.
~~
Seven Months Earlier
“What do you mean he hasn’t come home yet? It’s been two weeks!”
Rhodey scrubs at his face with both hands. They’re trembling, and he drops them back to his lap so that Pepper can’t see them on the video screen.
“He refused to ride back with Prince T’Challa when he came back with Zemo. I don’t…I don’t know anymore than that. Friday can’t connect to the suit, and I…” Rhodey grimaced and shifted himself in his wheelchair. “I can’t go after him.”
Pepper is pale, one hand sinking into her red hair. “Isn’t there anyone that can go check on him?”
“Vision’s under careful watch,” Rhodey answered, the words like acid in his mouth. “Not that Ross could really do anything if Vision wanted to leave, but we’re all trying to keep it civil here. As much as we behave now, it’ll help Tony in the end when he gets back.”
“Oh, Rhodey.” Pepper’s worried now. Rhodey can see it in lines around her eyes. He hates upsetting her, but he needed to let her know, couldn’t leave her in the dark. “What do…what can I do? Should I take a suit out there myself?”
Rhodey manages a smile, absently running his hand along the large wheel at his side. “No, Pep. I don’t think Tony would want you going out there. It might be too dangerous. I’m going to put out some feelers, though. There’s a woman I met in rehab. Her name’s Carol, came out of the Air Force. She’s good stock. She might be able to help keep track of anything that might be Tony in the air.”
Pepper’s expression turns pensive, and she looks off to the side, at something Rhodey can’t see offscreen.
“Do you think he went to Steve?” she wonders quietly.
“Oh,” Rhodey says, frowning. He hadn’t thought of that. “It’s possible, I guess. I don’t know where that is, though. No one does.”
“And Friday can’t even connect to the suit to find him,” Pepper whispers, and Rhodey nods because that was one of his first concerns.
“I’m going to get in touch with T’Challa, too,” Rhodey says. “He expressed his concern when Tony didn’t show up at the last Accords assembly. He’s got to be able to help.”
"We can't lose him again, Rhodey," Pepper says, and they share an agonizing moment remembering Afghanistan.
“Pardon me, James,” Vision interrupts, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “There’s a Colonel Danvers in the communal area.”
“Yeah, thanks, Viz,” Rhodey nods. “We’ll find him, Pep. I swear.”
Pepper’s parting words are muffled behind her hand, and the feed cuts out. Rhodey sets his gloved hands to his wheels and goes out to meet Carol.
~~
Later, Bucky listens as T’Challa vows to start putting his assets to use in locating Tony. He’s mindful of the king’s scowl as he informs them about Tony’s disappearance. They never should have left Stark in Siberia. He’d known it was mistake even then.
Steve tears at his hair, and it’s clear that his indecision is still weighing him down. Bucky wants to suit up, to help find Tony. Despite the dangers, it’s all he can do to help atone for his past crimes.
Sam thinks it’s a bad idea to go out so soon, but it’s Tony. He promises to support Steve’s decision no matter what it is. Bucky can respect that. He glances to the corner where Wanda sits quietly. Her face is ashen and wide eyes dark.
Clint says something sharp and dismissive before strolling out of the room, and Bucky watches as Steve’s muscles tense like he wants to hit the archer.
He goes to one of T’Challa’s gyms instead, tugging Bucky after him. They spar until Steve can think clearer, and Bucky’s winded.
~~
There are whispers that their organization is hurting. The asset believes them that their numbers are small. After all, he’s killed a handful of them himself. The first time they'd tried to touch the device in his chest, he'd lost control and killed six of them before they were able to shut him down.
They don’t go near it again.
His training is harsh, brutal. His body is pushed beyond what he thinks he should be able to handle. He heals by the morning.
His handlers really like to think they have a sense of humor. They refer to each other in different code names for each session, rotating them out every once in awhile.
Simon and Garfunkel.
Ben and Jerry.
Sonny and Cher.
To name a few. Each time they announce a new set, he just stares at them. They dismiss his lack of response with snickers and hand waves. Today, they’re Siegfried and Roy, and they have a gift for him.
He stands beside the table as Roy bounds over with a smile. She’s in a happy mood, he notes. That’s good. That means there might not be any training this session. What she sets down on the table produces a hollow clang.
Something deep inside him shudders and curls up, but he can’t place the reasoning behind it. He blinks placidly at the scuffed silver disc and makes no connection. Roy slaps a hand against it.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Roy singsongs, and Siegfried snorts from where he’s prepping paint guns. “No longer that wretched patriotic scheme.”
“I thought you liked the color blue?” Siegfried asks, and the asset doesn’t look away from the disc. He doesn’t understand why a patriotic scheme would include blue. Theirs is black and red.
The asset takes the data pad that Roy holds out to him. Keeping an ear on his handlers, he begins to scroll through what little data they have on the disc. It’s a shield made from vibranium, a metal thought extinct until it resurfaced in abundance in Wakanda. Its appearance is deceptive. While appearing heavy, the dimensions provided allude that it would be quite manageable. He knows he’ll be training extensively with it. There’s no information on who made it.
Roy bickers back at Siegfried as Siegfried takes the shield and starts painting over the silver metal.
Roy leans back against the table and rolls her eyes towards the asset. “How about Iron Shield?”
The asset looks at her blankly.
“Iron Winter?” she continues without input from him or Siegfried. There’s a loud clatter as Siegfried tosses down one of the paint guns. Roy and the asset both look to Siegfried as he turns.
“You’re going to get in trouble, Roy,” Siegfried warns her sharply.
“Fine,” Roy pouts. She drops her head back and smirks at the asset. “Should totally be Iron Shield. Just to piss them off,” she finishes in a sotto voice.
He doesn’t know why she’s fixated on including ‘Iron’ in the name, or who ‘they’ are in this situation.
They continue to call him a Winter Soldier and, the next time he goes on a mission, the shield is slung across his back with the use of magnetic straps. His body easily takes the additional weight, having trained with it extensively.
The shield is now black with a red star in the center.
~~
The asset crouches down on the edge of the building. It’s dark, and the street lamp below flickers. This mission is simple. There’s a rat, and he simply needs to exterminate it.
He’s followed the rat from the bar. The music had been loud and abrasive, but not as raucous as the group the rat had piled into a cab with. He assumes the rat is aware of its impending death, the carefree abandon of his night acting as his death throes.
There’s a woman in the room with the rat, but he must not bring attention to the mission. In and out. Simple and quick. No extraneous collateral. So he must wait. He slips his feet over the edge of the building and tips his head slightly to the side. It lets the longer strands of his hair slip away from his forehead. He appreciates that it’s out of his eyes now. He feels like the long hair is a hindrance and wonders why his handlers haven’t cut it yet.
He decides that it doesn’t matter, letting the thought go as he pulls his rifle into his lap from where it’s been slung across his back. The strap is a dark red -- the color of dried blood -- and it stands out against the black of his body armor. The buckles are brightly polished gold. The handlers had laughed at the colors, finding some sort of humor that he couldn’t see in the choices.
Perhaps he isn’t meant to. He only knows that the red matches the star on his arm band and the red in Hydra’s crest covering the device keeping him alive. He shies immediately away from that line of thinking. He’s learned well enough to pretend that device doesn’t exist. It’s blue. It’s bright. It is nothing but a reminder of the pain he’s endured to be a good soldier.
He doesn’t need a reminder and so the device doesn’t exist.
Neither does the sizeable scar that’s interrupted by that same device. The wound must’ve been inflicted by something sharp, unyielding. He’s wondered before if it’s from his training or from the device itself. He doesn’t ask, and the handlers don’t provide him with the information.
He checks that his rifle is properly loaded and the safety is off. His breath ripples out against his cheeks, blocked by the mask covering the lower half of his face. When he blinks, his lashes are long enough to brush the gold-plated gear.
He settles the butt of the rifle against his shoulder and takes aim. He’s been trained not to fidget. He wishes he could. Something deep inside him rails against being idle and his index taps against the trigger.
There’s movement in the condo. The woman is leaving, a smile across her pretty face. He waits until she’s leaning against the wall beside the elevator, putting her shoes on. As the doors slide open, the rat slumps to the floor. A single hole is shot through a glass pane. Blood, brighter than the asset’s straps, coats the wall near the front door.
The rooftop is empty. The asset returns to the rendezvous point.
~~
“There’s been absolutely nothing,” Steve snaps in frustration, and Carol crosses her arms where she stands beside Rhodey. “It’s been almost a year!”
“We’re operating on limited resources, Captain,” Carol responds, preempting Rhodey’s own retort. “Hydra’s gone underground. Silent.” She doesn’t handle Steve’s petulant anger very well. He’s created this mess, and she reminds him of that from time to time. They butt heads a lot.
“They’re good at that,” Bucky murmurs, glancing at Steve as his friend slumps back into his seat. Everyone around the table wearing the same expression in varying degrees, lined with exhaustion and despair.
Pepper only speaks to Rhodey these days. She’s a shadow of her former self, and it hurts Steve to catch sight of her on the video screen. He can’t bring himself to speak to her.
“Tony’s resourceful,” Rhodey starts. “Wherever they’re keeping him, you can bet he’s working on a plan to escape.” He has to say that, has to keep his faith sure and steady.
“They’re planning something with him, weapons maybe, but Hydra’s different than The Ten Rings,” Bucky says. “They’re not going to lose him so easily. Take me with you next time.”
The group begins to argue the pros and cons of letting Bucky out with a team. Steve is against it. Bucky’s not surprised, but he’s a little resentful. He knows his mind. He knows it’s a risk, but it’s the least he can do.
The very least for the pain he caused Tony.
He’s taken to the comms in the meetings, walking the Avengers through old, forgotten bases, each empty one whittling at their hope. He firmly believes Hydra’s been at each of them in the past year, but the Avengers are working at a disadvantage. They don’t have Tony and his expertise to help them sift through the data. Though, Friday does her best.
Bucky leaves them to their arguing and walks to the other end of the large room where T’Challa sits in silence. The king is reclining in front of a map that’s hung up on the wall, a hand across his mouth as he looks it over.
“Tony Stark is a brilliant man,” T’Challa says as he becomes aware of Bucky’s presence.
“He’s out there,” Bucky says, going to stand just behind T’Challa’s chair. T’Challa’s science department had fitted him with a new arm. He flexes it then. “He’s still alive, or we would’ve heard by now.”
“They’re using him,” T’Challa guesses, and it’s not the first time. Bucky is staring at the map. The trail of ‘x’s from every base they’d hit. There are so many that they almost begin to blur together.
“Let me go,” Bucky say, not for the first time. He’s getting tired of asking. “Right now, alone. Let me go.”
“Mr. Barnes, I do not th-”
“There’s a pattern, but I can’t follow it like this,” Bucky cuts the king off as T’Challa begins to rise from his chair. “Send me out there by myself. I can fall into the mindset. I’ll find him.”
T’Challa faces Bucky, and they watch each other silently. T’Challa weighs Bucky’s use, his ability. Finally, he nods once. They’re running out of options.
“Find Nakia,” he informs Bucky. “She’ll be with the other Dora Milaje.”
Bucky knows Nakia very well. He’s sparred with her on the few occasions where Steve’s been too careful and his hovering becomes too much. He strides towards the conference room door.
“Mr. Barnes.”
Bucky turns halfway back to T’Challa. The king has returned his attention to the map.
“Bring him home.”
~~
Two Months Later
He manages to recognize the pattern. The goose chase has become clearer the deeper Bucky falls back on his Winter Soldier training.
Hydra has been leading them in a circle, a spiral. It is loose and uncoordinated in the effort to throw them off their game. It’s been working horrifyingly well. With his eyes finally open and seeing, Bucky begins to notice the deaths.
Each one is like his own, quick and efficient. Knock them down and take them out. A very large part of him is afraid to keep going. He doesn’t want what is at the end of this path.
But, oh yes, Bucky recognizes the pattern.
He catches up to Hydra in a small, industrial district in Vancouver. There’s a base there that hasn’t been used in decades. Bucky only just manages to remember it when, nearby, the body of a lawyer is found, killed by a bullet through the brain that Bucky is achingly familiar with. Soviet slug. No rifling.
That knot in his gut tightens, and he thinks he’s going to be sick. The kill is still fresh and, if Bucky can move quick enough, he might be able to catch who had done it. A flash of gold catches his eye, and he instantly kicks off the small overhang to go after the other person. He can’t let them get away. They might be Bucky’s only hope for a clue right now.
The person looks over their shoulder, but they’re hindered by the shield on their back. Bucky’s lip curls as the image of it becomes clearer as he gets closer. Hydra’s mocking them. He’s not surprised.
He swings wide and tackles the other person. They go rolling down the slate roof, and Bucky just misses the eaves. He grasps wildly with his metal hand, but only catches at the person’s mask. The gold mask comes away easily, just like Bucky had known it would. As Bucky falls, the man’s bare face is merely scowling in annoyance before he takes off into the darkness.
Bucky hits the ground with a thud. His breath is knocked from his lungs, but he takes no notice. He rolls to the side and vomits.
Hydra had lost Bucky as their Winter Soldier, but they’d taken Tony in his place. Bucky will never forgive himself.
When he assembles The Avengers, he can barely watch their varying reactions.
There’s shock and dismay, disgust and despair. But mostly, Steve has hope and determination. They’ll bring Tony home, and they’ll fix him. Just like Bucky.
Bucky doesn’t point out that he’s far from fixed. It wouldn’t do any of them any good for the reminder.
Bucky uses T’Challa to disappear again, chasing after Tony like the ghost Hydra had made him. The spiral tightens, leading Bucky towards the final destination. A target: Pepper Potts.
They should have seen it coming. Hydra is marking their next victim, and it’s someone Tony would never forgive himself for.
Bucky has to stop him before Pepper comes next on the list of the dead. He catches up to Tony on a rooftop near Stark Industries. The Avengers have been called in, but they’re too far out.
Bucky’s bleeding heavily from his brow, but Tony’s hand is broken where Bucky had wrestled the gun away. Tony is in full Winter Soldier mode, brutal and efficient, but Bucky’s fighting to save Tony’s life. Even at the expense of his own.
The shield is gone, having been thrown over the side of the building within the first five minutes of their confrontation. Bucky never learned to wield it properly, but Tony is scarily accurate. Bucky needed it out of play. Tony ducks and weaves around the reach of Bucky’s metal arm and catches Bucky in the side with a blade he hadn’t seen.
Bucky reels, staggers down to his knees, throws the wrong hand up in defense and finds the point of the blade through his palm. His nerves scream at him as his fingers spasm. His eyes are narrowed against the blood dripping through his lashes.
“Vy dolzhny molit’sya pryamo seychas,” Tony says, voice full of gravel and wet with the blood of his own injuries.
You should pray now. Bucky manages to laugh, can’t stop laughing even as Tony crumples under the force of Ms. Marvel’s enlarged fist.
“Ya nikogda ne perestaval molit’sya,” Bucky says to Tony’s prone form as Steve crouches down between them, hastily checking Tony before turning to Bucky. Kamala looks fretful, like she fears she’s struck too hard. T’Challa assures her that Tony will be okay as they carry him away.
I never stopped praying.
~~
Bucky only visits Tony in his detainment cell a of couple times. The struggle Tony is enduring to center himself, to reconcile the two halves of his old and new personalities, is something Bucky can only stomach in small doses. He’s still going through the same himself.
He watches Tony fight the restraints. He listens to Tony lose his voice to the demons in his head. He turns away when Tony breaks through the programming and the tears flood the room and threaten to drown them all.
Pepper is there through it all, even when Rhodey has to leave to catch his breath. They dominate Tony’s visiting hours, and the rest of the Avengers bow out gracefully.
Steve is too afraid to face Tony. But Bucky keeps an eye on him as he paces like a caged lion starved of proper feeding and care. Steve is dangerous. Steve is ready to rip the earth apart to find the bastards that had done this to Tony. He will lead the charge, and Bucky will be right behind him.
~~
Five Weeks Later
Everything could almost be back to normal with mission after mission keeping the Avengers busy weeding out the last of this new batch of Hydra. Almost normal if Tony had been allowed to help.
At least he had finally cornered Steve and, after much pleading and careful yelling, they’d come to a truce, an understanding. They’d shaken hands, and Steve had left feeling lighter with hope for their friendship.
Tony had stared blankly at the wall for a long time after Steve’s departure.
Pepper’s arrival had broken his reverie, and he’d submitted himself to her care for the afternoon. He’d missed her. They remain close friends only.
They eventually let him free in the Tower. There are enough Supers now to keep an eye on him. He pretends it doesn’t bother him. He meets the new team. He starts sketching through upgrades for some of them, keeping himself busy.
At night, he locks himself in his room. His nightmares are heinous, ungodly. He wakes up drenched in sweat with the taste of blood in his mouth.
And the echoes of his dreams: “Ya gotov otvechat’.”
~~
Tony doesn’t go with the Avengers when they finally raid the caves where the base is. His handlers are brought in with the rest of Hydra, but Tony never goes any closer than the one-way window between him and their holding cell on the helicarrier.
Eva’s bright personality is nowhere to be found. It unnerves Tony. He had been used to that when he was the asset. He feels torn and knows he can’t help her.
Alexei hangs himself two days later. Tony watches Natasha tell Eva, watches as Eva rails against his death and cries at the betrayal. He turns away and leaves the room, but not before Eva’s manic laughter follows him out. He’s supposed to meet Rhodey and Pepper for lunch.
Carol is at the end of the hall with Hill as she waits for him, but Bucky is just beyond them, arms crossed, and listening intently. Tony can tell he’s just collecting data for later; he doesn’t need to be there. He sighs and walks slowly towards his escort.
“Ready to go, Tones?” Carol smiles brightly at him, picking up the nickname that Rhodey uses freely around everyone.
“Yes,” he replies slowly, consciously making the effort not to respond in Russian. It’s been hard, but everyone is patient. They shouldn’t be. He hears them call him a monster. That he’s directly killed people. There is blood on his hands and, inside, a part of Tony should be screaming himself hoarse. He only feels numb.
“Actually,” Bucky cuts in. “Before you go...Stark, I was wondering if maybe you’d join me for a session. Afterwards.”
Tony blinks. There’s a stretch of silence where he doesn’t look away from Bucky. Carol’s looking between them both, and Tony finally gives him a nod. “That would probably be good.”
Bucky’s the only one that understands. Truly understands. Tony isn’t so far lost to himself that he doesn’t appreciate the irony.
~~
It goes that way for the next few weeks.
Tony has a short session with his therapist, Dr. Faustus, every few days, tucking himself away so as to not disturb anyone. Then, together, Bucky and Tony find support in sparring sessions when the nightmares get to be too much. When they can’t sleep and Bucky can hear triggers in the night
Sometimes Bucky asks how Tony’s therapy is going.
Tony goes silent for a moment, but eventually shrugs. “Same as usual.”
It’s not perfect, but it’s what they have.
And soon, sparring extends to winding down together. They sit beside each other and drink water. They end up sharing meals with each other more than anyone else.
When Bucky takes Tony’s hand for the first time, Tony stares at their intertwined fingers for a long moment. He eventually pulls away, and they plan for dinner.
Tony builds a fountain in the middle of a new park in Manhattan at Pepper’s encouragement. Its cement base has square accoutrements, each one blank. Each square possibly represents each of Tony’s victims, Bucky thinks.
Bucky visits it one day by himself, and he leaves a white rose for each. While not all of Tony’s victims were innocent, the rose represents the loss of Tony’s sense of self. Bucky would do it for his own, but hey…he still doesn’t believe he deserves it.
That night, Tony kisses him for the first time.
After Tony flees, Bucky smiles for the rest of the night. He even enjoys Steve’s gentle teasing.
~~
It’s Tony’s first Christmas back, and they have a small gathering, bringing cheer into the Tower that’s been sorely missed. The new Avengers mingle with the old, the drinks and food flowing freely. It’s a good time, relaxed.
It takes Bucky a long time to notice that Tony has escaped Pepper’s side and disappeared from the party. Friday tells him that Tony’s out on the landing pad. He makes excuses to Peter when the kid approaches him, wanting to talk more about the arm, and goes up to check on Tony.
“You okay?” Bucky asks as he walks across to where Tony sits. Tony looks over his shoulder at him, twisting a glass of champagne in his hands. The air is crisp and cold. Neither of them needs a jacket anymore.
“I think I might be,” Tony replies. He looks down at his drink then offers it to Bucky with a shrug. “Someday.”
“I get that feeling,” Bucky huffs, knocking shoulders with Tony as he takes the offered glass. It’s mostly full, but Bucky doesn’t think anything of it. He settles beside Tony near the edge and swallows the last of the champagne. It’s never been his favorite drink, but its bite is appreciated in the cold air. Car horns are blaring and Manhattan is a snow-covered, glittering canvas. But it’s quiet, in a way, and Tony glances at him from the corner of his eye, gives him a half-attempt at a smile.
Suddenly, the glass is loose in his grip, his fingers tingling. The glass threatens to fall, and Tony saves it from Bucky’s hand with a click of his tongue. “Your mission was a hard one,” he says and is silent for a moment. “Use his pain. Use my pain. Break him, they tell me. Break him, and bring him home. I was here now. But how to break you, I wondered?”
There’s no physical struggle. Bucky can barely breathe through the numbing agent sweeping through his system. His body is still as his mind rages against the vicious betrayal.
“Then, I saw the way you watched me,” Tony continues, twirling the now-empty glass absently. He glances at Bucky, and his expression is too smug for a Winter Soldier. It’s blending with Tony. It’s that expression that finally makes Bucky understand. He isn’t only Hydra’s mission, but Tony’s too.
They’d been so fooled, and Tony is right. Bucky’s heart is shattering. He'd thought that he and Tony were...Well, it doesn't matter anymore.
“Zhelaniye.” And Bucky can’t fight it as the words come. Crisp as the air and just as cold, they steal his control.
“Tovarny vagon.” The last sight he takes with him is Tony letting the glass go over the edge of the landing pad. “Soldat.”
“Ya gotov otvechat’,” the asset responds.