Chapter Text
Two days after dragging Steve out of the water, Bucky had shown up on the doorstep of Steve’s apartment. His face had been blank and pliant, but was one Steve would recognize anywhere. Steve had immediately enveloped him in a big hug and invited him inside.
- - -
The hug made the asset feel off. Its handlers rarely showed physical affection outside of using him for their own pleasure. It had realized this man was his new handler (blonde, blue eyes, star on his chest), sometime right after he had fallen off the ship.
As was common procedure, it had immediately gone to protect his handler’s life, pulling him out of the water. It was after that that it malfunctioned. So terrified of the punishment it would incur after nearly killing a handler that it had spent days wandering the city, avoiding the man at all costs. Of course, eventually it came to realize that the punishment for avoiding his handler would only get worse the longer it took the Asset to to submit to it. So here it was, sitting on its handlers couch as the man asked if he wanted anything.
“Water? Tea? Coffee? OJ?” The blonde was asking.
The Asset was unsure of how to respond. Usually when it got a new handler, they told it how it was supposed to behave immediately. If it was to call them sir or not, if they wanted sexual pleasure from it, rewards and punishments, it was all supposed to be laid out.
Perhaps, it had had a conversation of this sort with his new handler and a wipe gone wrong had erased it from his memory. It didn’t want to be punished for that; it would have to act as if it knew what this handler wanted.
“No thank you.” It responded, meeting the blue eyes of his handler.
- - -
Bucky was back. Steve could hardly believe Bucky was back. And not the psycho mind-controlled Bucky, his Bucky. He smiled at his former lover sitting across from him. There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to say to make up for all of the lost time.
But Steve knew that he had to stay calm. He didn’t know anything about this Bucky.
He smiled warmly. “Where have you been Buck?”
His best friend looked down and Steve studied his face. The man was much harder to read than he used to be. While Bucky used to have his emotions plastered across him at all times, this new version’s feelings could barely be made out, save for a twitch here or there.
“I… I’ve been wandering the city.”
“And before that?” Steve prodded.
“Different missions, it’s a bit of a blur. My last wipe was recent.”
- - -
The Asset felt like it was being tested. It was as if this handler wanted to know if he remembered him. It couldn’t admit that it didn’t. It couldn’t let Hydra label him as defunct and decommission it.
“Do you… do you remember me Bucky?”
Bucky? Who the hell was Bucky? It met its handler’s eyes again and became aware the question was aimed at it.
“Of course.” It attempted to place a pleasant look on his face.
WIthout warning, his handler started crying thick tears, allowing them to roll down his face. What was happening? Why had the asset not yet been punished for fighting his handler on the plane?
The Asset didn’t say anything, afraid of punishment for speaking out of turn. It just stared at his crying handler blankly. One rule that every handler had had: never speak unless spoken to.
The blonde laughed weakly, “Fuck I’m so sorry.” He wiped his face, now slightly red. “You shouldn’t have to see me like this after so long. I just- I just can’t believe it’s you. Fuck. Can I have another hug?”
The Asset immediately obeyed orders, standing up and meeting the man in the middle to embrace.
Mental note: his handler liked hugs.
When they stepped away his handler looked at it awkwardly for a moment. “You must be hungry. Let me make you something. Com’ere.”
The Asset followed as they walked to a barren refrigerator.
“I don’t really have a lot here.” The blonde paused. “Do you want boxed mac and cheese? Scrambled eggs? Ramen? We could also order take out or something. Maybe sushi or burgers and shakes or mexican? What sounds good?” He looked at the Asset expectantly.
The Asset was not used to these kinds of questions. It paused for a moment, trying to understand what the right answer was. It didn’t know. It didn't know what half the words its handler had just said were. Did it’s handler want it to pick one or was he just dangling choices above the Asset’s head to torture him?
He must have been staring for a while because the man spoke up again, “Are you alright? Do you want me to choose?”
The soldier nodded.
It knew it had to ask about its punishment for fighting his handler but didn’t know how. Should it bring up the subject? Maybe its superior was waiting for it to say something, to present itself for punishment. It took a breath. “What about the ship? When I fought you?”
Its handler looked surprised but not angry. “I don’t know. You don’t seem like you want to kill me right now. Can we deal with it tomorrow once I’ve looped the avengers in?”
It nodded as if the word avengers meant anything to it.
“I’m gonna order take out. Have you had burgers, fries, and milkshakes in this century?”
“No.”
“Oh my god, they’re so good. Do you have any idea what you want?”
“Whatever you want.” Which was the asset’s way of saying: whatever you permit me to eat.
- - -
If Bucky was eating whatever Steve was eating, the pressure was on to get something good. But also simple? He needed to give his best-friend (maybe lover once more? They hadn’t worked that part out) the best taste of modern American cuisine that he could.
Bucky sat on his couch as he ordered both of them double decker cheese burgers with bacon, large fries with different sauces for Bucky to try, and large chocolate milkshakes. Having Bucky back felt like a fever dream. Steve hardly knew what to do but he was trying to just keep going and not give Bucky a reason to leave him.
He then texted the avengers about the situation, agreeing to have them come over in the morning when they would all discuss and try to get Bucky a psych evaluation. In the meantime, Tony set Jarvis up to be on high alert in case Bucky attacked Steve.
Steve didn’t know what to say to his old friend. He wanted to make conversation but feared he would hyperventilate if he tried to continue. “Want to watch tv?” he instead offered.
Bucky gave a slight nod and Steve settled onto the couch next to him, but not close enough to touch. He had no idea what they could watch. Bucky had definitely been a prisoner of some sort at Hydra so he couldn’t play anything that could be triggering. He ultimately went with the LEGO Batman movie. It was PG, heartwarming, and well… relevant.
He leaned back and hit play, they would watch until the food arrived.
Bucky looked uncomfortable. He was sitting the exact same way he had been before. Upright, straight back, not leaning against the back of the couch at all. Maybe the man expected them to cuddle like they used to when they sat on their old couch in Brooklyn, listening to the radio or drawing or reading or whatever it was they even used to do with themselves.
He landed on saying “Wanna lean on me?” in a very casual, non committal way. Bucky didn’t respond and just slid over to rest himself on the taller man’s shoulder. Steve put an arm around his former lover and felt his body fill with warmth. He loved Bucky. He loved him so much. After all this time, he was just as madly in love as he had been when they were kids.
- - -
Its handler was uncomfortable. His body heat was making the asset start to sweat. It didn’t like physical contact because it always led to being fucked. It hated when his handler’s fucked him but at least with Pierce (its last handler) it had always been over quickly. This new one clearly wanted to take his time.
And it hated the way this handler asked questions. It hated the way he would ask as if taunting the asset, asking only so that he had an excuse to remind the soldier that it had no free will. It didn’t get to say no and by asking the handler was just rubbing it in its face. He missed Pierce. Pierce had always been his favorite handler. It missed the way that Pierce was always just clear. Every time he wanted something he would tell the Asset explicitly and it would do it.
When the Asset did something wrong, Pierce would punish it immediately and he would tell it what its punishment was. Pierce wasn’t like this handler, telling it to wait till tomorrow and then not saying what its punishment was. Its punishment could be anything, now it could only wait in fear.
After about twenty minutes, the asset felt its handler place a light kiss on the top of his head. It was so soft that it almost could have not happened but it had. The asset wanted this to be over. He wanted the man to handcuff it, force it to its knees, and make it suck his dick. Or to blindfold it and drug it and fuck it from behind while it couldn’t fight back. Anything to make this slow physical build up stop.
The Asset was thankful when the doorbell rang and the blonde finally got up, coming back with a bag of food. “Let's sit down!” He said cheerfully.
The men sat next to each other at a small round table. The blonde pulled out a spread of food and set it before the asset. The asset watched its handler for instruction and the man began to speak. “This is similar to the diner food we used to eat but I swear this century does it so much better.” The handler laughed and picked up his burger.
The Asset forced a smile and tried to imitate the actions of its handler. It tried the burger and it was incredible. And it was starving, it hadn’t had food since before they fought. The two of them ate in a calm silence as the soldier demolished the food.
Its handler put a hand on his back as it continued to eat. The motion felt like a threat. It immediately stopped and looked up. Was it doing something wrong? The handler’s eyes looked kind but kindness was often deceiving.
The handler just smiled and motioned for it to keep eating. It did, aware of the eyes on it.
It felt strange that it hadn’t been given a mission yet. Usually when it was awake and away from Hydra for this long, it would have been given a mission. Sure, sometimes it would be woken up for the pleasure of its Hydra handlers or others but in almost every other case he was given a goal: kill someone specific, torture someone, act like arm candy for an event, help HYDRA agents accomplish some sort of goal, etc. It was never out for this long without being told what the bigger picture was. Maybe this was because of this new current handler.
The Asset knew that if it wanted to avoid more punishment, it would have to make the new handler like it, or at least see it as useful. That would mean acting the way this handler wanted, listening to him, and most importantly taking tomorrow's punishment well, whatever it ended up being.
After it finished the burger it's handler showed it how to dip french fries in the milkshake. The Asset acted enthusiastically, trying to match the handlers' energy and joy. It seemed to work. When it smiled, its handler smiled bigger. Everything was working out. It seemed that, unlike previous handlers, this one wanted him to act like a human being. Or at least, human beings are adjacent. It could do that.
“Want to finish the movie?” The handler asked it once they had both finished their fries. The man was mocking it again. No, not mocking, humiliating it. He was reminding it that even though it was supposed to act like a human being, it was an object. It had no free will and was made just to be used.
Instead of risking punishment it smiled and said “sure” in a bright tone. Its owner beamed.
The handler sat down on the couch and the winter soldier came next to him again, cuddling up to the man, content that it was doing the right thing when he saw the handler's facial expressions. Its handler was practically spooning him as they lay there. Before starting the movie the man paused.
“Can we talk real quick?”
The asset nodded. Maybe it’s assessment had been wrong.
“It’s been a long time for you. I know that. I just want to know where we are. Are you ok with this level of physical contact? I don’t know what Hydra was like for you. Is this alright?”
The asset nodded again.
“Can we have a conversation about it?” The asset had done the wrong thing. Its handler had wanted a verbal response. It began to prepare for punishment and tried again to speak.
“If this is what you want, this is what I want.” It responded.
“Ok.” The handler nodded to himself. “Did you-” the handler stopped. “Have you-” another stop. “You’ve been in relationships, right?”
The asset did not know how to respond. Relationships? It was an object, how could it possibly be in a relationship? Did the handler mean sexual relationships with other handlers? It had been in many of those. But they weren’t really relationships, it was a fuckdoll and they used him, that was it. It didn’t know what the right answer was so the asset merely said, “kind of.”
The handler held him tightly and breathed into his shoulder. “I missed you so much, Buck.” They went back to the movie.
Once the movie was over its handler had told the Asset to sleep in the bedroom while the handler slept on the couch. He had walked the Asset into the room, given it clothes to sleep in, and ultimately left.
The asset looked at the bed. It was large and neatly made. The bedding was an unobtrusive gray and the asset watched it longingly. It rarely slept in beds, usually sleeping on the ground of a cell while at Hydra bases.
It understood now. This was another one of his handler’s tactics of humiliation. He had presented the Asset with a bed but not given it permission to sleep on it. He was again reminding the Asset: it was not human. It was lesser than. It didn’t deserve a bed.
Resigned, it began to lie down and imagine its punishment for tomorrow. It knew it would be terrible. Perhaps, the handler would tie it up inside a wooden box and set it on fire; one of its early handlers had done that. Perhaps this handler would fuck it senseless and then invite all his friends over and everyone would fuck the asset all at once until it passed out from the pain of being split open, quickly healing, and being split open again. Maybe the handler would pull out its teeth, one by one till its mouth was full of blood, no matter how many times its spit it out. Then wait for the serum to regenerate them and do it over and over again until the Asset couldn’t stop sobbing even days after the torture was over.
Images of torture filling its mind, the Asset eventually managed to succumb to a deep sleep on the hard wooden floor.