He had approved it, advocated for it, even volunteered for it. Why? Honestly he had no idea. Probably some sense of guilt deep down, for everything that had happened in Siberia. It was something Tony had wrestled with for months, something that would probably never be fully resolved, but dammit he was trying to expedite this whole getting-over-trauma-and-resentment spiel. And so slowly, after Wakanda’s finest scientists had done what they could, Bucky had ended up (very surprisingly) in the Avenger’s hands. There was no denying what an asset Barnes could be, after all, if they could just detox all the Winter Soldier poison from his brain.
This was just one of many attempts to do so, but it had been the first with a live subject. Yep, Tony had put himself in the cage with the lion, suited up as they recited the words that sent Barnes into a mad frenzy. He saw the way Bucky struggled, the way he seemed to make a physical attempt to resist the pull of so many years of conditioning. Then he saw the moment where Bucky snapped and became a killing machine. Where he became the monster from the footage, the one who still stalked his dreams from time to time.
It had faded, of Barne’s own accord. No hit to the head, no tranquilizer necessary. That was improvement. But for Tony, sitting outside the control room with his heart beating in his ears and breathing still struggling to slow, it didn’t feel much like a victory.
