@im-tops-bottom here it is. I spent the time I shouldâve been doing homework writing this because I thought it was really cool and I have no self-control, whoops
Alexander Pierce was a smart man. A good leader, the strong hand that HYDRA had once needed to shape it. Bucky respected Alexander Pierce. Even as he held the smoking gun and stared at the body with a bullet hole between the eyes, Bucky truly did respect Pierce.
After all, he made Bucky what he was today.
No, not Bucky. That didnât feel right. âThe Assetâ left a sour taste in his mouth as well.
James, James would do. For now, at least.
James holstered his gun, turning back to Jack Rollins. Rollins was a good agent. Definitely sadistic and unpredictable, but if one knew how to channel that storm, he was definitely a worthwhile agent to have around. And James definitely knew how to control that storm.
He knew how to control every HYDRA agent. After all, heâd been the one working beside them as the silent weapon for decades. He was bound to pick up a few things.
âSomeone should clean that up,â James said. The words werenât rusty on his tongue, and his voice no longer felt foreign in his own throat.
Jamesâ head felt more clear than it had in a long time, and it was a pretty nice thing.
âYou think weâre gonna take orders from you now?â Rollins snarled. It almost mightâve been intimidating, but James knew the agent too well. For as much as he was a force of unbridled chaos, he was lost if he didnât have someone giving him a place to direct the chaos. Just a destructive force tearing himself down just as much as he did his enemies. Heâd fall in line as easily as he always did.
âIâve been the goddamned fist of HYDRA for the past seventy years,â Jamesâ voice was colder than the cryogenic chambers theyâd kept him in. âItâs about damn time I start running it.â
Remembering was the most difficult part of it all, really. There wasnât much resistance against Jamesâ assimilation into the leading role in HYDRA. Most were just like Rollins, mindless muscle looking for someone to follow. Sure, there were some more resistant forces, like Rumlow. People who were less keen on the idea of following someone they used to treat as an object.
But James was persuasive when he wanted to be, and the transition took less than a month before James was seamlessly running HYDRA and even being praised for his success rates.
The morals didnât really bother James either. Sure, there was a time they wouldâve, James was well aware of that. He was well aware that his past self wouldâve been disgusted in what heâd become. Aware that the broken man named Bucky Barnes who chanted serial numbers in the dead of the night trying desperately to hold onto who he was wouldâve never willingly worked for the agency that destroyed him.
James wasnât really bothered with any of that now. What was necessary for HYDRA was necessary for the world. Pain was order and all that.
Well, maybe James didnât quite believe the mantra Rumlow chanted to himself. Maybe he just liked the power. The thrill of it.
Whatever it was, James was damned good at it and utterly undisturbed by false ideologies such as morality.
His memories, on the other hand, were a problem.
James didnât care about remembering his life before being the Winter Soldier. That time was insignificant to him, and for all James cared, deserved to remain incomplete in his head. It didnât matter who Steve Rogers used to be to James or what his motherâs name was. It was obsolete.
But what was important, was that James had lived through, had been, the height of HYDRAâs most important moments. And that fact was useless to James if he couldnât remember those moments.
The techs had promised they could reverse engineer the Chairâs use, but James wasnât going to wait around for that. James didnât squander the moment.
So he looked in other places, got up to date on modern technology in the process which was also nice.
And that search, of course, led James to Tony Stark.
In all honesty, James really only cared about the BARF technology, at first. Which did work beautifully, weaving the pieces of Jamesâ mind back together for a much clearer full picture.
But. There was always a but, wasnât there?
But, Tony Stark was an utterly interesting man. And dangerous, of course. James would even go as far as to argue that he was the most dangerous Avenger. James truly did admire men who were made into weapons. Especially if it was by their own making.
It didnât hurt that he was easy on the eyes too.
James knew hypothetically that he had no place getting attached to Tony. Especially when he made the decision to put Tony through the Winter Soldier program, which had such a high mortality rate.
But everyone had their Achilleâs heel. If James was going to have one, he might as well use it to his advantage. It was only practical.
So instead of assassinating Tony Stark, James had his people kidnap him and put him through the Winter Soldier programming.
James did have to admit, it felt strange being the one standing in front of the screaming man in the Chair, and not the one in it.
Rumlow stood next to James, arms folded. âYou think this is gonna work?â
âIt worked on me,â James said, tilting his head to the side.
âAnd look where we are now,â Rumlow pointed out with a light scoff.
James smirked at that. âAnd it only took me seventy fucking years to get here. Any more questions, Rumlow?â
His eyes narrowed faintly but, âNo, sir.â
The machinery of the Chair finally whirred to a stop, metal pieces pulling away from Tonyâs panting form. HIs head hung, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.
James took a step forward, standing right in front of him. âSoldat?â
Tonyâs eyes were beautifully vacant when he finally opened them.
Tony made for a beautiful Winter Soldier.
For what he lacked in the raw strength and the combat training James had, he made up for in ingenuity and raw talent. He could do what an entire team of agents and scientists combined couldnât, and made it look easy. He was an amazing asset, and exactly what James needed. James would even go so far as to say that he was a better Winter Soldier than James himself had been.
So when Rogers broke into a HYDRA base, it was only natural that James turned to Tony to do the heavy lifting of handling it.
âTony?â Rogersâ broken up face was almost cute, the way it was torn up with confusion as he stood in the HYDRA base, shield raised. âBucky?â
âWhoâs Tony?â Tony asked head tilted faintly to the side. He looked to James for an order.
Rogers shook his head, taking a stumbled step back. His eyes were painted with something James could only describe as pure horror. âNo.â He shook his head, shaking hands clenched at his sides.
James couldnât help the soft chuckle that came out of him. It really was, above all else, amusing as all hell. âSoldat, attack,â James ordered.
Tony didnât hesitate, double tapping his arc reactor for the new suit heâd just built himself to spring to life, curling around his limbs.
Rogers didnât have a chance to scream before Tony attacked.
In the end, Rogers and his merry band of misfits were forced to retreat. Which was disappointing, but on the bright side, James did now have more information on them. Particularly the new one who could do the whole shrinking trick. Overall, it was more helpful than harmful to HYDRA.
âThe man with the shield,â Tony said quietly, as James personally stitched up his cuts. That was the downside of a non-super soldier Asset, the prolonged healing process. James refused to give Tony the defunct serum in his veins, considering how risky it had been, but he was looking into other options. Something called Extremis from Aldrich Killian was looking particularly interesting. âI knew him.â
James paused his work, eyes narrowing slightly. âSo did I,â James finally said. âBut that was a long time ago, Winter. It doesnât change who you are now.â
Tony nodded, glancing at James. His vacant brown eyes werenât confused, but rather trusting.
James respected Alexander Pierce. But he knew damned well where Pierce had gone wrong with James.
James didnât argue the fact that the Winter Soldier was an animal. He knew it better than anyone else. The Winter Soldier was supposed to be an animal. No matter who was wearing the title, they lost their identity, their humanity, when they took on the role.
But where Pierce had gone wrong was treating James like a wild animal. Like some kind of ferocious attack dog that needed a muzzle and leash at all times. Poorly kept, poorly treated, and constantly abused.
That only bred anger. Treat an animal like theyâre wild, and they would become just that. A monster waiting for the right moment to bite the hand that feeds it. Itâs only in itsâ nature to do so.
James was smarter than that. Tony wasnât a monster and wasnât to be treated like one. He was properly cared for, shown friendliness, even compassion. His mindset was bred from care, not malice.
Tony wasnât Jamesâ attack dog. He was Jamesâ pet.
And it was so painfully clear to anyone who saw them. To anyone who saw the way Tony shuddered at any praise, or the way he followed James around like the lost puppy he was.
James ran his fingers through Tonyâs hair, giving him a faint kiss on the temple. All the tension seeped out of Tonyâs shoulders and he leaned into the touch with a soft sigh. James smiled.
A wild animal constantly looked for ways to break out of itsâ cage. A pet didnât even know it was in one.
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