Winter knew patience. He could remain in position for hours on end, but found that his fingers had a tendency to tap at the side of his sniper rifle. Winter always held completely still whenever someone else was with him. Superiors didn't like him getting fidgety.
Winter tapped as he waited, staring down the sight. The tapping wasn't monotonous. It was a pattern that repeated. With a start, Winter realized it was Morse code. He listened intently, trying to figure out what it said. What he was trying to say.
.. .----. -- / .... . .-. . / ... - . ...- .
I'm here Steve
Steve? Winter thought. Why would he be tapping out a message like that? Winter stilled his finger, and went back to staring through the sights. An odd emotion prickled his chest. Steve?
Some minutes later, Winter silently cursed as he realized he was tapping again. Why was he tapping out random Morse code? It didn't make sense to him. Neither did the new phrase.
.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-
I love you
Winter scowled. Those words had no place in his mind. From then on he held as still as if a superior were standing behind him.
Hours passed. His fingers twitched. With a huff of annoyance, he had to loosen the muscles, because he couldn't have his fingers cramp when there was still a trigger to pull. The tapping resumed. Sometimes, there'd be a partial phrase that was new, but his finger would stall before Winter could figure out what it meant.
This gave Winter a lot to think about. It was like muscle memory, the Morse code phrases. He was sure that he'd tapped them out countless times before. The strangest thing was that he couldn't remember ever learning those phrases, let alone tapping them.
As Winter thought more about memories, he noted that he didn't remember nearly anything. Only HYDRA. And those memories were sparse, they left gaps. Things didn't add up. Clothes styles changed drastically, slang evolved, accents morphed.
Winter had developed theories over the past few days. One of them that made little sense, and yet had the most evidence: The one where he was frozen. Winter had blurry images of being frozen alive, a hand reaching to break the glass. His antipathy of the cold. And his name, the Winter Soldier.
But just being frozen in time didn't explain all the gaps of his memory. Where was his childhood? He grasped for straws, and eventually came up with a smile, maybe two... And a brief, hazy memory, or maybe it was a few that blurred together- Red. The red that Winter was familiar with: Blood. He was cleaning blood... Off of... Someone. Not himself, someone else.
What was going on? Winter hadn't thought like this before. Why was he doubting things? You don't doubt your superiors, they told you everything you need to know.
Like a saving grace to save him from himself, he saw movement from within the apartment. Now came the more interesting part: Waiting until a shot lined up to take out both targets. After all, it was much harder when one of them vanished behind a wall and took cover.
The first to enter his field of vision was the one called Maelstrom. Seeing him in person gave Winter an odd feeling. In some way, Maelstrom felt familiar, even from this distance.
Then Captain America entered the room. Winter found that he couldn't breathe. That was the same man as in his dream. The same one he wouldn't leave without, the one he thought was swallowed by flames. And, his mind provided another snapshot; the outstretched hand he was reaching for when he fell belonged to this man.
He knew that man. He knew that man. He knew that man as... As a friend? They had been friends? It didn't make sense.
Captain America sighed, and walked over to the couch. He plopped down on the seat with his back to the window, and reached forward. He picked up a sheet of paper. Winter took a closer look at the image, wondering what intelligence he had.
Winter felt immobile; it was like his blood had been replaced with glacier water. The image that Captain America was holding gingerly was a hand sketched portrait of none other than Winter. This Winter was grinning, clean shaven, hair neatly cut.
That man knew him. That man knew him. They knew each other.
What was going on?
Winter's heart thumped painfully in his chest. What was he going to do? What could he do? He had his mission. He couldn't return to HYDRA with an incomplete mission. But like he knew his left arm was metal, he knew he couldn't pull that trigger.
Winter cursed. He didn't even know what language he was cursing in, it might have even been several, but it didn't matter. He looked back at his targets. He thought about returning to HYDRA.
He couldn't decide. This must be fear, Winter thought as his heart slammed around inside his chest, and his blood felt like it was ablaze.
His mind couldn't decide, but he found himself packing his sniper rifle with great speed and precision. Then he vanished from his position.
~~~~~~
Percy looked up a moment too late to catch the sniper's exit.
Steve looked at Percy, seeing as he paused mid-sentence. "Percy?"
"Huh?" Percy asked, eyes not moving.
"What is it?" Steve questioned.
"Nothing. I just thought I saw something." Percy replied, and resumed their previous conversation.
This had happened before, and Steve let it go with relative ease. Percy did have a tendency to notice irregular things, and sometimes it was better to just not know exactly what oddity Percy had seen.
~~~~~~
Winter was good at hiding. That he knew. Whether he could hide from HYDRA, though, was a different story. Winter hoped he could. And he didn't hope many things.
Winter kept hidden from any cameras or people that would be interested in him. That evening he found a place to rest. He didn't find sleep easy, nor did he particularly want to be defenseless. But he felt himself pulled to unconsciousness, and he couldn't fight.
"You don't understand," A scientist said urgently. "Every time he's been out of cryofreeze for this long, he's started to remember. It doesn't matter how many times we wipe him. If we do that much more though, he's likely to turn into a vegetable. We have to get him back in cryofreeze to slow down the process."
"No. He has to do is finish his mission." Winter's superior said.
"He won't be able to finish his mission if he remembers!" The scientist implored.
"I get that you're concerned, but the Winter Soldier only has two more objectives left before his termination. Once he kills Captain America, and this Maelstrom, all that's left is for him to train Tarus to take his place." The superior explained.
The scientist sagged. "Really? Terminate him? But he's been our best asset for decades-"
"What use is a faulty asset when you can have a brand new one that's even better? Tarus is loyal to us without wiping his memories or programming his mind." The superior commented.
"Doesn't that also make the Winter Soldier useful to us? He can't ignore an order even if he wants to." The scientist inquired.
"The Winter Soldier is an outdated model, doctor. I suggest you get used to the idea."
"Fine. But what if the soldier remembers before he can finish Tarus' training?"
"If that's the case, then we'd have to wipe him. But if what you said about melting his brain is true, it won't even be worth the power it takes to turn on a light. We'll just have to find someone else who can teach our gold-blood the ropes."
Winter's eyes snapped open. That wasn't a dream. He knew it, but he didn't know how he knew it.
So his theory of being frozen was right. And they were wiping his memory. Repeatedly.
With a chill, Winter realized that they were going to kill him even if he did finish his mission.
"Well, shit." He said aloud.
~~~~~~
Winter slipped inside, and tried to learn what he could. Old technology, some new technology, simple decorations. Paintings. The paintings were eerie to Winter, if only for the reason that something about them felt familiar, and yet he had no idea why.
Then he walked into the living room, and to the coffee table. Examining the files was an odd experience. After all, it was his face on many of the pictures. It was his deeds as the Winter Soldier. He didn't remember killing those people, but he didn't doubt that he had.
He became so immersed in the reports that he almost didn't notice the footsteps approaching the apartment door. With a silent curse, Winter ducked into a hallway and tucked himself away in a corner.
The door unlocked and swung open.
"That was a close one." Said a young male voice that was familiar to Winter.
"You could say that." A slightly older voice asked. Winter knew that voice. It was the man in his dreams, the one they called Captain America. Winter felt his heart ache in a way that he couldn't express.
"Who knew that Captain America and a billionaire's son going on a run would draw so much attention?" The young man said, amused. Winter figured that the young man was Maelstrom.
"We're gonna have to find a new route." Captain America said.
"Oh, definitely. But hey, maybe if I took off my shirt I'd scare them away." Maelstrom said, and it sounded like he was grinning.
"Unfortunately, I think that would just intrigue them more. And cause problems for you and Tony." Captain America said.
"True." Maelstrom said, less cheerfully. There was a pause in the conversation, and then the young man said in a low, deadly tone that even bothered Winter. "Someone's been here. No, someone is here."
Winter silently cursed. There went his chances of escaping unnoticed. He heard the two move in another room, and looked around him for an escape. With another round of silent cursing, he noted that it was a dead end.
The two men appeared around the corner, fists ready. Winter stepped into a combat stance as well. He'd have to push past them to escape.
Captain America's jaw and shoulders slacked. "Bucky?"
"Who the hell is Bucky?"
Maelstrom stood in place as Captain America took a step closer, hands raised in a friendly 'calm down' gesture. Winter didn't move.
"Bucky-"
"Steve, he doesn't remember." Maelstrom said.
Steve. Steve. Steve. Winter knew that name. He'd tapped it out in Morse code. But it was more than that...
Steve's face fell. "No..."
Winter stood still, waiting to attack, but hesitant for some reason.
"You don't remember anything, do you?" Maelstrom asked him.
Winter hesitated.
"So you do remember something." Maelstrom said. "Which is why you haven't attacked us yet."
Winter took a moment. "Yes."
Hope warmed Steve's eyes. "What do you remember?" He asked softly.
Winter hesitated.
Understanding was practically branded across Maelstrom's face. "You don't want to share because you feel like you'll forget it if you do. Or you don't want to be wrong."
Winter blinked, surprised. "How-?"
"Personal experience." Maelstrom replied, and Winter could tell he was being truthful.
Winter didn't know what to do now.
"Why did you come here?" Maelstrom asked.
"For answers." Winter said.
"Well, we have some answers. You'll have to help us figure out the rest." Maelstrom replied.
Winter looked between the two, and neither of them looked like they were ready to attack.
"Uh, can we sit down instead of this awkward mexican stand-off?" Maelstrom asked.
Winter relaxed his posture in answer. Maelstrom took the cue and nudged Steve in the direction of the living room. Winter followed them, several steps behind. Steve sat on the couch, Maelstrom stood between Winter and the front door, and Winter himself leaned against a wall.
"This still feels like a mexican stand-off." Maelstrom grumbled.
"What do you remember?" Steve asked, ignoring Maelstrom.
"That I know you. And that he's familiar." Winter jerked a head toward Maelstrom.
"Is that it?" Steve asked, his tone somewhere between sorrow, desperate, and hopeful.
"There's more, but I haven't made sense of it all. I've had some dreams where I think I saw a memory... And then last night I had dream that wasn't a memory, but it seemed real."
Maelstrom's eyebrows shot up. "Like you were a ghost seeing and hearing something that was actually happening?"
Winter stared at Maelstrom. "How did you know?"
"I've had those dreams before. What exactly happened in that dream?" Maelstrom said, his gaze intense.
Winter stifled his surprise. "A scientist and a superior were talking. About me. Main take-away is that I've been controlled, memory wiped, and now I'm pretty sure they want me dead."
Steve stiffened. Maelstrom shrugged. "Sounds about right."
"I've just failed my mission. They are likely to send a kill squad after me." Winter said, noting that they were conversing instead of fighting.
"What was your mission?" Steve asked.
"To kill the both of you, Captain America and Maelstrom."
Maelstrom gave Winter a curious look. "Were you on a neighboring roof yesterday?"
Winter blinked. "Yes. Why do you ask?"
"I thought I noticed somebody. I was too late to actually see if anyone was there though." Maelstrom said. "I need to get better about that. Someone could've gotten at you, Steve."
"I've handled bullets fine enough. It's not your job to protect me, Percy." Steve said.
Winter looked questioningly at Maelstrom. "Percy?"
"Yeah, name's Percy J- er, Stark." Maelstrom said, or, Percy. "And that is Steve Rogers."
"I know that name." Winter said softly as a pang of familiarity shot through him.
Steve took a long look at Winter. "You're not faking any of this, are you?"
Winter shook his head. His fingers tapped at his sides. Morse code again, he thought. He didn't pay attention to what he was tapping this time, though.
Suddenly, an odd reflection of light caught his eye. "Sniper!" He said abruptly, and pulled a gun from his waistband, taking cover.
Steve didn't hesitate to rush over to Winter's position, considering it was closer and cover. Maelstrom- or Percy, turned to the door and opened it, sticking his head out into the hall. He cursed, and closed the door. "We're trapped. They're storming up the stairs, and I'm pretty sure the building is surrounded."
"How many?" Steve asked.
"Enough to challenge us if there weren't civilians." Percy replied. "But considering there are, we're screwed if we have to fight here."
Steve's brows scrunched together. "Can you get us out of here?"
Percy sighed. "Yeah. Uh, back up, I'm going to have to sprint over there."
"You'll pass right through the line of fire." Winter said.
"I'm aware. Give me some space."
The two super soldiers backed up, Winter thinking, what an idiot, he's about to get himself killed. Percy sprinted across the room. He took a bullet to his calf and practically rammed into Steve who caught him.
Percy cursed, and pushed past them into the bathroom. "C'mon!"
They followed him, and when Winter hesitated on walking into the now-cramped bathroom, Percy reached forward and pulled him in. "Okay, Winter, close your eyes. If you don't you'll get sick."
Winter was confused. They were trying to escape, not whatever this was. Then Percy clasped a hand around a bicep of both soldiers, and they vanished into a mist.
~~~~~~
Winter stumbled, and nearly fell. His entire body tingled. Steve took deep breaths. Percy cursed with impressive vocabulary as he hobbled over to the ocean tide and sat in it.
"Why are you complaining?" Steve asked.
"It actually really hurts to let myself get hurt, you know." Percy grumbled as Winter tried to comprehend what had just happened. "I have to like inflict the wound on myself and time it right to make it believable. And then I have to use the Mist too, because you can't just run around with gold blood!"
"Gold blood?" Winter repeated.
Percy looked at him. "Oh, yeah. I have gold blood. Surprise."
Winter blinked. "Where are we?"
"Montauk. Gimme a second, I gotta get our safehouse up." Percy said.
He reached a hand out over the sea as he stood, and beyond his fingertips the water churned. First a mast and sails, and then a deck, and the next moment it was an entire ship. Water poured over the sides as it rose and bobbed into position.
Winter gaped.
"I kind of forgot you had this." Steve commented.
"I kind of did too." Percy said. "But then I thought 'We need a safehouse that nobody knows about' and I remembered last time we were hiding from SHIELD, so boom. Huddle up, I'm gonna drop us off on-deck."
Percy didn't wait for a response before grabbing the two of them again. Winter was better prepared this time, and snapped his eyes shut. When he felt his feet on solid ground, he opened them again.
"Welcome to the Okeano Spiti. Your new residence for a little while." Percy said to Winter.
The Ocean Home, Winter thought. What the fuck just happened?
A/N
I just wrote this entire behemoth of a chapter in one day. A school day. I had school today.
Did you guys enjoy practically an entire chapter in Bucky's POV?
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