Marvel one shots!!

WinterHawk

Word count: 1172

Summery: angst requested by @nannananabatman

2 types of brainwashing - infinite types of hell.

————

It was cold. So cold. The icy feeling that spread across his body from the point  of the sceptre, felt like pin pricks of ice slowly enveloping his body. And before he had time to acknowledge its presence, it had spread fast enough to cover his eyes.

He felt like he was drowning. Or freezing. It seemed like the liquid in his eyes was growing frigid. He was convinced he was dying. But the feeling of fading away, the way he imagined death would consume someone, never came. Instead he felt himself move, but his mind was pushed aside by a louder voice filling his whole body.

He felt as if his soul was  being ripped from his body- from existence - and replaced with something else entirely. A colder, headless voice, with only one purpose: To serve.

It was unlike anything he had ever imagined. And he had imagined it a lot - with his job death wasn't something he necessarily feared. But now - we'll it was completely different to what he expected. He thought it would have been like drifting off into a deep sleep which he would never wake - or literally seeing a light in front of him, too bright and hope filled to dare to ignore.

But this - this was worse than anything. Feeling his mind and body be completely separated, to be pushed aside working his own mind to make way for another being. He knew with his job - his death count he wouldn't go to heaven - not that he believed in it anyway. But this - this had to be hell.

——

He never wanted this.

Back home he was a hero. He was making his family, his county proud.

But laying on the board as the world around his swam about his eyes, feeling sick and nauseous, he couldn't think of a worse place than that hell.

But now, looking up at the soldier in front of him, their eyes glistening with a sickening look of pleasure and superiority over him, as his arms and legs were strapped  securely to the chair - he realised his first envision of hell - the worst kind of pain and suffering ever imaginable was quiet far from the truth.

He knew he wasn't dying - and it brought him no sense of calm, his fate would be worse than death. Death would be an answered prayer - a much better alternative.

Instead, the 7 words where spoken in Russian, the electricity of their power like acid through his veins, burning him from the inside out. Is thoughts, his memories ( the few that remained) and any form of humanity left him vulnerable to their control.

He was left empty, a literal shell of a man. He was an asset  not a man. A killing machine not a soldier.

Born in winter and born to kill. Controlled by hydra.

——

They didn't know how they met.

But it was luck of anything. As unfortunate as it sound, it was the downfall of stark that brought the together. Neither hated the man, but when it came to it, they both followed steve into an unnecessary battle.

A battle that could have been fought by words fought between friends and their weapons.

From what Steve has told him, it was stakes tech they were using against him. A poetic injustice really. But he didn't hate Stark.

He didn't hate Stark.

At one time they were fiends, he was a worthy uncle to his kids, an uncle they loved and respected too. He didn't hate him - how could he? He was a friend, a good one at that. But that didn't mean he had to agree with him on everything.

But it was when they were on the run after they had broken out of the raft that the two first spoke.

Clint was still bitter about his time in the raft and nats involvement that led her on the same path as them, when he found himself in the same room as Bucky.

He never wanted it to end how it did, and he knew he had lost a good friend. And he regretted how he acted to tony after he was imprisoned. But tony was right- he read it, he broke it. It was on him, and he lashed out at the wrong person.

" you're thinking about something," the ex assassin said, not removing his eyes from the dagger he wa currently sharpening. It would have been daunting, or threatening - but to clint - he kind of understood.  He was an ex assassin too- he knew how the weapons could become a source of comfort - knowing that they would be the thing standing between themselves and death.

" yeah, something like that." His eyes wondered over to the soldier, sat positioned in front of the blade, scratching the surface, sharpening the edges. He noticed his swipes became harder, more frequent, and in no time at all, the blade snapped in two, the smaller piece falling with a clutter to the ground.

" it wasn't your fault," Clint said. He watched as the soldier lowered his gaze past the broken blade, and his grey eyes glimmer with a fresh set of tears. No one - not even steve - had ever seen  the most feared assassin cry , Bucky barns either. 

But he shook his head, " I'm sorry, I know what you lost, what everyone has lost - and I k so I'm not worth all this ...."

" stop," his voice was soft, but demanding. It had the soldier in silence, and he continued.

" it want all about you Bucky, the accords... they were wrong. A lot of it was wrong - not just your imprisonment. I believed against it - so that what I fought for. " they sat in silence for a minute.

" it wasn't your fault, I know what it's like to be controlled - by the inside out." His gaze lowered, and Bucky lifted his own to look at the sandy haired archer.

" it was what brought us al together really - the team. The avengers. I fought my best friend, I could have killed her, " he moved his head and a smile formed on his lips as he looked over at Bucky

" if she hadn't have killed me first."

It got the reactions he hoped  it would have done, and he watched as Bucky had a smile of his own in his face.

" thank you," he whispered, and Clint took the moment to stand and sit next to him, placing his arm around the larger mans shoulders.

" you could do with more friends, call it a truce? An alliance? I'll tell you what, you can help me fill the balloon with Custard and put it outside Steves door. Hah? Sound good?"

His smile grew, and he nodded.

" punk needs to be put back in his place alright,"

And even with their shared past of torture and mind control, they walked out of there as friends. Alliances- ready to seek out their first prey.