Avengers Oneshots

Bucky Barnes (2)

"Young Assassin"
(Tavas is an OC)

"Bucky, are you sure about this? He's very unstable," Steve pulled Bucky away from the door by his shirt sleeve.

"I'm semi-unstable," Bucky shrugged, a little grin quirking the corners of his lips. "A couple of unstable assassins in close quarters, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Death, for one," Steve protested, albeit internally happy to see Bucky trying to make jokes again, just like back in the day.

Bucky took Steve's wrist in his metal hand. "I'll be fine, Steve."

Cool metal parted from warm skin as Bucky pulled away from Steve and opened the heavy steel door, slipping inside the interrogation room. Immediately the boy shrieked, scrambling to free himself from the cuff attached from his wrist to the table, trying to get away from Bucky.

The boy broke off his cry to spew angry, rapid-fire Russian at him, while Bucky calmly sat down on the other side of the table. He leaned away as far as the cuff would let him.

Bucky took a deep breath and let the boy get a few more sentences out before he broke in, growling the rough Russian words at him.

The boy snapped back at Bucky, his voice wavering.

Steve watched in interested confusion. The boy seemed both afraid of Bucky and angry at him. They obviously had history. The two went back and forth rapidly, Bucky's face changing from a calm, passive demeanor to barely concealed dread and panic. His breath came in quick, sharp bursts— Steve could see Bucky's chest heaving. Talking to this boy was bringing on a particularly painful flashback for Bucky.

Before the boy could reply to Bucky's newest words, he abruptly slammed his vibranium hand down on the table and left the room quickly. The boy flinched back as metal met metal, and continued trying to free himself from the cuff.

"Do you know him?" Steve asked when his friend came to stand beside him.

"I—I do..." Bucky's eyes had a haunted look in them, and he clutched the sides of his head, trying to stop the memories from invading his mind.

"Oh no, Buck. I know that look. Don't go down that memory lane. It's not good for you." Steve quickly wrapped Bucky up in a bear-hug as if he could hide his friend from the memories.

"In the nineties, there was an experiment called Project Deti-Ubiytsy. That's Russian for killer children. HYDRA picked up ten orphans off the streets... ten little boys..." Bucky mumbled into Steve's shirt, unable to stop himself. "They experimented on them... and made little super soldiers...

"They wiped them... and brought them to me... to the Winter Soldier... and made me train them. That boy I saw the most... I could hear the others screaming in the background as I taught him to fight..." Bucky couldn't stop the words flowing from his mouth, couldn't stop the memories from surfacing. He was transported back into the past, seeing his actions from a third-person point of view.

"They would wake me up just as they started wiping that boy's mind... so my alarm clock was basically his cries... I look back now and I can feel myself dread the mornings. He may not have been me, but that boy broke some dam of compassion in him...

"They pitted the kids against each other for years, and the one who won for the day didn't get beaten that night... The Winter Soldier served out several beatings himself. I remember the day I refused to beat that boy. They wiped me within five minutes. The next day I came back... he came back... and broke his jaw..."

"Buck, come back, c'mon!" Steve staggered a little under Bucky's weight, who was slowly sagging against Steve.

But Bucky couldn't stop the words from coming. "The project ended in 2006. Only one survived."

"That boy?" Steve asked tentatively, horrified by the grim story.

"That boy," Bucky affirmed.

Steve sank to the floor and continued holding Bucky, rubbing his thumb in comforting circles on Bucky's right arm. "What happened to the others?"

Bucky looked up, unshed tears glimmering in his haunted steel-blue eyes. "He killed them all. There was a reason he was put in cryo. He's a killing machine, and even worse when cornered...

"They call him the Black Death, or Frostbite. Because he will chase you out into the cold, out into the snow, seemingly unbothered by it himself, and wait for days as you slowly freeze to death. Then he will cut your throat and let you watch yourself bleed out, uncaring, because you're so cold you can no longer feel anything."

Steve was left with mouth agape as Bucky finished speaking, finally free of the flashback. The Winter Soldier hid his face in Steve's shirt once more and tried not to cry, but the tears flowed down his face faster than he could stop them.

"Shh, it's ok, it's ok..." Steve stayed still, rubbing Bucky's back in slow circles, as his friend sobbed quietly, the front of his shirt quickly becoming soaked with tears.