Like I Belong

by WinterIron4eveR (Catonmic92)

Summary:

"There was something reassuring that came from Tony Stark.

A tangible solid base that James really needed at the moment. Because whenever he started to think about his current situation, a deep apprehension creeped up slowly inside him, reminding the assassin of the unknown and the uncertainty that surrounded him."

Or how will James Bucky Barnes find himself again surrounded by an engineer, a flyboy, an AI and hyperactive bots ?

Chapter 1

Notes:

Warning: You might wanna read the first part "Vulnerable" if you haven't already. This fic doesn't read itself as a stand-alone work so you will get lost.

Hi to all !
For those who followed me through Vulnerable, welcome back :) I took a bit more time than expected but I've finally managed to wrestle this fic into behaving as I want it to. I hope you will all enjoy what I've prepared for you.
As always, let me know what you think.
Cheers :)

Disclaimer: Characters all belong to Marvel Studios. I'm just having fun, playing with two of them especially cause I love them and I want to do them justice.

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Chapter 1

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There was something reassuring emanating from Tony Stark. 

A tangible solid base that James really needed at the moment. Because whenever he started to think about his current situation, a deep apprehension creeped up slowly inside him, reminding the assassin of the unknown and the uncertainty that surrounded him at the moment.

Not that James ever wanted that for himself or anyone else, but being Hydra’s asset had been simple. His handlers had provided him with missions which included a specific set of orders and required parameters to take into account in order to succeed. The asset didn’t have to think about the consequences of his actions other than keeping his continued existence a mere whisper. A ghost story. No witnesses were left behind. Ever.

James flinched as the image of a frightened young man holding a couple of bags in one hand and keys in the other flashed before his eyes. He had not been Hydra’s target. He had been eliminated regardless, for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The asset never had to question his actions or his identity. The Fist of Hydra was just that. A weapon. A tool used by a dozen handlers throughout the years to do their bidding.

His quest for identity had started over two years ago after he had escaped Hydra’s clutches thanks to the confusion his fight with Steve had generated inside his mind. Some of his old memories had resurfaced then and had pushed the asset to pull the blond out of the water. Once away from the Triskelion wreckage, the first thing the asset had thought of doing was to follow protocol and get back to his handler for report and maintenance. He had managed to fight back the instinct as the programming lost in effectiveness with passing hours. A couple of days later, images of what had happened in DC had been plastered all over the media. Memory still muddled as he watched the face of the man he had saved from the Potomac, thus learning of Steve Rogers’ name and famous alias, the asset had conducted a few searches in local newspapers and had eventually decided to pay a visit to the museum. For at least an hour, the rogue assassin had stayed there, staring not at Captain America but at one Sergeant James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes, trying to manage the confusion that had taken hold of him. His handlers had been in a habit not to let their nameless weapon see his own face, not even for him to shave properly, but they hadn’t been able to remove all reflective surfaces either. And so the asset had known he looked like Barnes. A bit older, rougher on the edges, but the same features down to the shape and color of the eyes.

It had taken three months of running away and hiding and several vivid dreams of his past life as a US Army sniper for the asset to reconcile with the fact that he had been the same Sergeant Barnes, presumed killed in action during a special operation in the Alps that aimed to capture Doctor Armin Zola. It had taken three additional months to start writing down whatever memories resurfaced and sort through them bit by bit. About a year after his escape, Steve and the guy with wings had come really close to find him. The asset’s flight response had taken in immediately. Leaving several false trails, he had disappeared entirely. 

Two months later, Barnes had been at a small dinner when the local TV broadcast had been interrupted to feature some major event happening in South Africa. The Hulk - Barnes remembered his last handler warning him to stay away from the green skinned beast - had been unleashed on Johannesburg and was now fighting against IronMan. While images of the devastated center town were shown, the presenter had speculated about the absence of Captain America and the other Avengers, and whether or not Tony Stark would be able to put an end to the Hulk’s destructive rampage on his own. This event along with the destruction of Sokovia in the following days had brought more souvenirs to the brainwashed assassin about his experience during the war. 

Pieces of the puzzle had started to match, giving Barnes a better sense of his past self. 

Memories came back to him irregularly, the good and the bad, either from his life in Brooklyn, during the war, or while he had operated under the Winter Soldier’s programming. All played a little part in the reconstruction of his lost identity but he still wasn’t there. Something still missed. A frame of sorts that would allow James to tie his memories, re-acquired and new ones, and to link everything as a whole canvas.

The brainwashed assassin realized, as he leaned on the balcony of his newly set up quarters at the Avengers compound, that his following Steve had had nothing to do with their friendship. Yes, when thinking of Steve, words such as constance, strength, trust, loyalty, came to mind. Yes, when reviewing his memories, nothing felt more tangible than the tenacious blond man. But the truth was Steve had been a crutch on which the recently triggered assassin had leaned on, a solid frame which had helped him to make some sense of who he was and what he was supposed to do then.

James knew he couldn’t go on like this.

While Steve was a constant in almost all his memories up until his fall from the train, that part of his life did not define anymore who James was today, and with Steve being irrevocably tied to the past, the blond couldn’t help him any longer with his quest for identity.

Tony Stark came to mind once more. Was it wrong to think the man heʼd orphaned could give James the support he needed? Or maybe Tony could simply give him some guidance or at least parameters to work with. 

James let out a humorless laugh. It sounded a lot like the asset inside him wanted another handler. Maybe he did, which sounded wrong.

Or not… 

He didnʼt know what to think anymore. 

“Sergeant Barnes,” the Irish female voice called from inside the room. “If you are through with settling in, Boss has everything ready to take care of your shoulder.”

“Yeah, sure.” He moved back inside and crossed the wide bedroom toward the door. “Where do I go?” James asked as he stepped out. The tour had been postponed till later. Tony had left him in the incorporeal yet good hands of his AI. Behind him, the door locked itself.

“To your right down the hall, then left through the fireproof doors, the lift will be in front of you.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“Is the bedroom to your likings so far?” the AI asked as he walked. 

FRIDAY had indicated earlier to James the room remained unclaimed up to now by any of the Avengers as it was isolated from the others. This ‘bedroom’ - talking about quarters would be more accurate - was over twice the size of a small Brooklyn apartment back in the 40s, had a double door walk-in closet, a large private bathroom, a comfortable sitting area with flat screen and a bookshelf, and gave a partial view on the wooden area and the back of the logistic facility.

“It’s more than I could ask for.” More than what he deserved, James thought privately.

“I’ll be the judge of that” she replied cheerfully. “Please just ask me for anything you might need or wish and I’ll make it happen.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Boss said to make you feel at ease and that’s what I’m trying to do” the AI informed just as he reached the elevator, its doors opening instantly. He got in and was driven straight down to a sub-level where FRIDAY guided him through the hallways and eventually opened a set of heavily protected doors.

“Come on in, Barnesicle” Tony welcomed him with a wave. “No trouble finding the workshop?”

James shook his head as his gaze discovered the workshop for the first time. Warm and bright. Just the opposite of Hydra cold, damp, dark basement. His sharp eyes didn’t miss at the far end of the long room the damaged IronMan suit that was being dismantled piece by piece by two mechanical arms. “I got here without having to push any button or handle.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up at his words, realization covering his features. “Ah… That’d be my fault. I told FRIDAY to take special care of you.”

“Your exact instructions were to pamper him, boss.”

“And I know you did your best, baby girl, but I didn’t mean for you to hold every door on his path.”

“Forgive me for stating the obvious but Sergeant Barnes has only one arm and hand. I thought it appropriate.”

“Yes and that’s why I asked you to look out for him” Tony said as he scratched the back of his neck. He gestured for James to join him. “Doesn’t mean he can’t or won’t use his other limb. It’ll be the same with Rhodey once he gets back from the hospital. You’re going to have to fine-tune the degree of pampering I mentioned earlier. Doing everything in his stead won’t be appreciated. Same for the Sergeant here. Alright?”

Once FRIDAY confirmed she understood, the engineer turned his full attention toward the assassin. James stopped a few steps away from the desk where Tony sat, pretending he did not apprehend the next part.

“Shall we do this?” Tony stood up after an awkward silence. He motioned James toward the center of the room where a hospital bed set up with a couple of lamps and a metallic support stand displaying several tools waited for them. 

No chair. Of any kind. No electrocution helmet, no memory wiping/torture device here. No handcuffs or ties attached to the bed’s railings. The brainwashed assassin heaved a discreet sigh in relief.

“I don’t usually host your kind of patients down here so I borrowed this from Medical upstairs. This way, you can lay down and relax while I finish what I started.” When James didn’t answer immediately, the genius went on. “Or you know, we could do this on the stools facing the station over there. I got cushions somewhere so you get comfortable.”

“Here’s okay” James finally spoke, approaching the bed. 

Tony stopped him long enough for FRIDAY to make a series of scans and then set him up on the bed, on his stomach.

“Same deal as before. Scratching and tugging and twisting to be expected. I’ll let you know whenever I reach a speed bump. It shouldnʼt take more than half an hour” the engineer informed him. “Do you want to see what Iʼm doing? It might help you relax.”

“Uh. Yeah, it might.”

“Okay. Set it up, Fri.”

Moments later, a holographic screen appeared two feet from the bed. James slid his right arm under the pillow, found a comfortable position and watched TinkerMan at work. Just like in the Quinjet, the engineer’s fingers were dancing with ease and agility. The mimics, too, came back, along with mumblings and comments here and there. James let Tony’s voice soothe him throughout the entire process, watching avidly the man’s little ticks and mannerism as he unplugged the remaining sensors down to the main generator that laid deep within Hydra prosthetic’s layers.

When the generator went off, James let out a deep grunt of relief as the pain stopped entirely and then slumped down on the bed, nearly boneless.

Tony huffed. “Bearable, he said.”

The genius’s quip didn’t escape James but he was too busy enjoying the total absence of sensation inside his left shoulder that he couldn’t muster the energy to answer.

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Chapter 2

Notes:

Here's another chapter already cause I got more than just one bad news lately and I need to be doing something that I enjoy and that will make me grin everytime I receive an AO3 notification in my inbox from one of you, dear readers.
You know what to do ;)

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Chapter 2

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For some reasons, Tony chose this moment, while James basked in the rush of endorphins, to make announcements.

First, he had made contact with a friend of his, Doctor Cho who specialized in regenerative medical techniques and arranged a consultation for James.

“Helen says she’s scheduled to come to DC next week. Coming here a couple days ahead is totally acceptable” Tony explained rapidly, silencing any complaints that were about to spill out of his lips. “She will explain to you what her team does and what they might be able to do for you. But just so you don’t get your hopes too high up, there is very little chance that she can regrow your arm entirely.”

James rose himself off the pillow to stare at the man in shock. “What ? ”

“I know. Sounds crazy, right? And yet, that’s where we are in terms of medical improvements.”

That’s when Tony made the second announcement which floored the assassin.

“Once T’Challa and I were done hashing things out in Berlin, he offered to build you a new prosthetic arm, made of their most precious Vibranium of course. I told him I intended to do that myself. We compared whose remorse was the most justified, the Black Panther wrongfully attempting to kill you out of grief or pissed Iron-me wrongfully attempting to kill you out of grief. We ended up deciding on a team effort. Since I tore your previous arm, I get to make the new one’s design and set it up. Princess Shuri, T’Challa’s little sis who’s even more of a genius than I am according to him, will build the prosthetic. Provided Helen can’t pull a miracle and you agree to all this. Nobody’s going to force any of it on you, pumpkin.”

So, yeah. Floored. 

It took a whole minute for James’s brain to reboot. And then some.

“Uh… What… I mean why would he… and you… ”

The second reboot worked a little better. 

“This is too much, Tony. Way too much.” He rubbed his tired face, trying and failing to make sense of it all. He didn’t feel equipped to deal with all this.

“Well, okay. I see how overwhelming it might be that the last two people who tried to kill you are now teaming up to help you out, offering you their best tech and skills.” James watched the man roll away on his stool to the station behind him and grab something from it. When he came back, James sat up and turned, facing the genius. “But you know, you don’t have to decide anything right away. You can take it one step at a time if you prefer. First, meet with Dr Cho and we’ll move forward from there.” The engineer applied a protective rubber over the remains of the ripped arm socket. “Same thing for your new arm. I’ll need your help with the design. Hold this.”

Confused, the sergeant did as asked while the engineer made sure the fabric covered every surface and didn’t move.

“What do you mean you’ll need my help?” James asked as Tony nodded in approval at his own work.

“We’re talking about your arm, Snowflake. You have every say in this. You might want a simple artificial limb, no special function and no weaponry of any kind, or you might want a similar prosthesis than what you had before. Or you could do a bit of both, add a cup holder between grenades and knives. Whatever. It’ll be up to you, really.”

James stared ahead of him, starting to understand what the engineer was trying to say. The choice belonged entirely to him. This was not a concept the brainwashed assassin was familiar with. Since he fell from that train, every choice had been made for him, from when to sleep or eat to who to kill and how. But now, he could decide for himself what he wanted to do.

The idea was kinda heady. 

Scary, too. He barely knew who he was today. There was no way James could decide right away on the type of arm he wanted for himself. 

The asset inside him felt once more the need for someone to put him on the right track and tell him what he ought to do.

“Can I think about it?” James asked quietly while the engineer turned back toward the station.

“Sure thing. Again, it’s all up to you. No hurry either. FRIDAY will help you out, when appropriate” Tony added as a discreet reminder to his young AI. “Now. Are you hungry? I know I am. How about pizza?” 

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While waiting for their food to be delivered, Tony offered to give James a quick tour of the compound. They started with the external facilities which regrouped the Logistics division of the Avengers Initiative. The whole thing was managed by a woman named Maria Hill, in charge of all personnel related issues as well as maintaining a small array of the surveillance operations previously conducted by SHIELD.

As they walked, Tony explained that only thirty people worked here to keep the compound running, mainly because of a lack of trust in SHIELD following the events in DC. For most, the dumping of all staff personal information onto the web had been the final nail in the coffin. Very few former field agents had accepted to stick around - only after they had been triple-vetted as non Hydra sleeper agents - and the rest had decided to start over somewhere else.

“A handful actually joined Stark Industries along with Hill” the engineer said as they approached the larger building. “Under aliases to protect themselves and their families. One of them approached me on a rare day I stepped into my office and let me know they would help if needed but they just couldn’t put their trust into two members of the Avengers and therefore preferred to stay off their radar. I really couldn’t blame them.”

“You donʼt agree with what Steve and the Widow did in DC?”

“Oh, I get why they believed it to be the most efficient way to reveal Hydra’s existence to the world, thus giving those rats no shadows to hide. I also understand perfectly what those agents went through and why they might feel some resentment.”

James turned his sharp gaze into the billionaire. “SHIELDʼs file on you was leaked too.”

Tony nodded once. “Along with many others, yes. Everything they had on me was put out there. And I do mean everything. From my favorite childhood hero up to the aftershave brand I prefer, including Afghanistan and what happened over there.” The man rubbed the center of his chest where, James knew, had rested the famous Arc reactor. “Achievements and failures, strengths and weaknesses, known leverages such as addictions, fears, close relationships, personal motivations, allies, enemies. Natasha was very thorough in her reports.” His laugh was humorless. “I shouldʼve figured there was more than the one assessment Fury showed me.”

The assassin grabbed the man’s arm to stop him. “Tell me you deleted everything” James said, a dangerous glint in his gaze. 

“There is no removing data once uploaded on the Internet. Otherwise dumping all of SHIELD’s data wouldʼve been a major bluff, one that Hydra goons would’ve seen right through.” Tony eyed him with a surprised expression and went on. “Not everybody can access it if thatʼs what upsets you. First theyʼd have to find the data. Second, it’s encrypted to governmental security level so the average hacker will be stumped.”

“What about the good hackers then?” James nearly snapped. “Or whatʼs left of Hydra? Or your other enemies? Do you even realize the kind of leverage someone ill-intentioned could do with these personal details about you?”

The genius observed James for a moment and then pulled out an amused smile. “Are you worried about me, sugar plum? Thatʼs really sweet, you know. Weʼve just moved in together and already you care so much. I’m flattered.” 

Despite his natural tendency to quip something right back, James remained focused on what mattered. “Tony, youʼre wealthy, famous, a successful entrepreneur who used to create weapons, and an Avenger known to be involved with SHIELD. No need to be a genius to figure out sensible info on you was leaked out there.”

“Indeed. But again itʼs going to take more than a few lines of coding to get to it. A lot more actually.” The smug expression on the genius’ face gave James a hint.

“What did you do?”

The billionaire smiled with confidence. “My previous AI secured some of it to the highest level possible. Iʼm not even sure FRIDAY could crack the many many intricate layers of firewall and misdirection JARVIS set up.”

“Jarvis? Like your butler?”

“Yeah.” A fond look flashed over the man’s face. “He had twenty years of learning experience and growth and I can tell you J was a marvel. He was extremely advanced and understood human emotions better than I ever did. So when the whole Shieldra situation arose, I instructed JARVIS to find the dumped personal files - not just mine but everyone’s that wasn’t on Hydra’s list - remove it from any website and bury it under tons of codes in the most isolated digital cemetery he could find on the web. It took him about four weeks working non-stop.”

James relaxed a little. “But there’s still a chance those personal files were found before that.”

Tony shrugged. “Guess so. We know our government did as well as other intelligence agencies, not all US based. Natasha was questioned publicly about it all and managed to avoid any consequence. And yeah, it’s possible other entities employing skilled people got to it all, including the personal files. But I’m not too worried. Back then I trusted J with my and others’ lives without hesitation. I still do. We’re safe.”

The two men began to walk again while the property owner kept a steady stream of comments on the compound facilities. James learned the large hangar, originally the only building when Howard bought the ground, was multifunctional and could be extended according to their needs, and that part of it had been constructed to sustain heavy damages and served as a training space for the team, including real life simulations designed by FRIDAY. 

“FRIDAY told me once she particularly enjoyed it when her tricks allowed her to catch off guard Earth’s mightiest heroes. I couldn’t have been more proud.”

James felt his lips tug into a soft grin. It was touching that Tony thought of his creations as his own children. It told something about the man that Romanov had most likely discarded as irrelevant in her reports.

When they returned to the residential building, FRIDAY informed them pizzas were two minutes away. The rest of the tour got postponed after their stomach would stop complaining.

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As soon as the smell of melted cheese reached his nose, James realized how famished he was and got relieved when Tony grabbed a box and all but threw it in front of him with a simple ‘dig in’. Not needing more than that, James lifted the lid and was assaulted by a delicious smell of pepperoni, mushroom, tomato and blue cheese. He grabbed a slice and couldn’t hold back a groan of appreciation on the first bite. 

He was through the first slice when a beer appeared in front of him. Thanking the billionaire, James grabbed the bottle and brought it to his lips. The cold liquid surprised the soldier at first. He could see the appeal, the contrast in temperatures and textures intensifying tastes in his mouth. He wasnʼt sure he wouldnʼt enjoy a tepid beer better though. James chose to say nothing and attacked his second slice.

When the whole pizza had disappeared, another one slid in front of him and the super soldier went for it immediately. This one had potatoes, bacon, onions, cream and cheese. It didn’t last long either. 

When the third pizza box showed up, James opened it with as much enthusiasm as the two firsts.

“I wonder” Tonyʼs voice said as James finished the first slice, “is it a super soldier or a Brooklyn thing?”

James managed to swallow down the warm and spicy food in his mouth before answering. “Depends. What are we talkin’ about? Don’t wanna speak ill of my ol’ neighborhood.”

Tony huffed a laugh. “Steve is just as hungry as you are. But I’ve never heard him speak with that twang, so I’m gonna say it’s due to the super fast metabolism you’ve got.” He grabbed the last slice from his calzone as he added in undertone. “It sure ain’t the Brooklyn air that allows you to gulp down three whole pizzas a meal and not get one extra pound.”

The assassin’s gaze frowned in thought. He looked down at himself and then shrugged. It was true that staying fit had never been an issue, neither during the last decades, nor during the Depression. His eyes went back to IronMan in front of him and realized there might be a bit of envy behind his words. Which was ridiculous, really. Tony Stark was in good shape and attractive. He had to know that about himself.

Once again, James hesitated to speak his mind, unsure his opinion was welcome, and then got distracted by Tony’s phone ringing for the third time in the last half hour. The man wiped his hands clean and grabbed his phone to deal with whatever required his immediate attention. Not surprised, James focused on finishing his meal. Tony was a busy man.

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That fact stood even more clearly as they went on the rest of the facility’s tour. As Tony showed James around - despite the soldier’s repeated offer to have FRIDAY do it instead cause the engineer surely had tons of things to do other than entertaining him - his phone kept calling for his attention. The genius provided, efficiently answering whoever needed an answer through a quick message while continuing his explanation on the floor and rooms they visited. 

The main building held the team’s residential rooms on the two top floors. They reached the common living-room/kitchen on fourth and James spotted immediately a rather large hole surrounded by security tape. Carefully, he leaned to get a good look and whistled.

“Impressive” James said as he tried to assess the depth. “How far down does it go?”

“About sixty feet into the ground below this building. Wanda crushed Vision all the way down there.”

The assassin threw IronMan a sharp look at these words. Maximoff’s powers had not seemed so destructive back at Leipzig airport. The woman made a lot of gestures with her hands which required a lot of concentration and effort. The goal wasn’t always easily reached. Apart from the large column Maximoff had lifted out of his and Steve’s path, James hadn’t seen much more as he had been fighting against his own opponents at the time. 

With a last look down the gaping floorboard, James followed Tony out of the communal space and noted in a corner of his mind not to piss off Wanda Maximoff if he could help it.

All individual rooms were spread between third and fourth floors, along with two other suites reserved for visitors, currently occupied by James and Tony. James took a quick glance into one of the supposedly classic bedrooms on the third floor and noticed the space was just as cosy as his own, only arranged differently. He also saw the partially destroyed wall by the bathroom door, secured with tape all around. Maximoff’s handiwork was visible on each floor.

“She managed to destroy a shared wall between this room and the next, so both are out of order until they start repairs which should be tomorrow. Watch your steps. There might be some fragile areas.”

James nodded in acknowledgment as he spotted some cracks spread throughout the wall. “May I ask what’s more important than these works?” Not that he wanted to doubt the genius’s decision but repairing the damages done by Maximoff definitely ought to be at the top of priorities for the residential building.

“You’ll see.” Tony gave an enigmatic smile and went on with the tour.

The second and first floors regrouped another communal space/living-room, the kitchen in which they had eaten earlier - those had avoided being destroyed by Maximoff’s wrath - along with the medical wing, meeting rooms, the Fort as Tony called - all Avengers operations were led from here - and a couple of offices including Tony’s. 

The ground floor was saved for last. After going rapidly through the wide entry hall, the press conference room and the gym, James got an answer to his earlier question. 

In addition to adapting the common rooms, hallways, and Colonel Rhodes’s private quarters to facilitate his specific needs, a corner of the facility had been broken and remodeled to create additional space dedicated to reeducation. Said room was already furnished with all the top-of-the-line reeducation equipment that would make any physical therapist drool over. 

“And you should find some proper equipment adapted to your needs too, no matter the type of arm you decide to go for” Tony said, finishing his explanation about the Rehab Room. 

James scrutinized the man’s face as something unexpected occurred to me. “Tony?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you buy part of the reeducation equipment for me?”

The billionaire became slightly embarrassed under the assassin’s insistent gaze. “Uh, yeah. I did” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. “Last minute purchase, really. I had it delivered yesterday morning. I thought you might need it, thatʼs all. Every piece of equipment has been recommended by trusted experienced professionals and FRIDAY has already compiled a list of competent PT to help you and Rhodey make good use of them.” Tony went on quickly. “I don’t mean you have to stick around after your hearing, you know? It will be your choice. Only if you want to. But as I’m responsible for your current lack of a left arm, I thought I would at least offer to help you on the road to recovery.”

James held back a smile as the man jabbered nervously, uncomfortable with his admission. “Thank you. That’s… very generous. And you don’t owe me anything.”

“Beg to differ.”

“So stubborn, TinkerMan.”

“Some say itʼs one of my most charming qualities.”

“You don’t say” he responded with a deadpan look.

“According to Pepper, it’s somewhere between eccentric and major pain in the ass.”

“Pepper?”

“My CEO and girlfriend. I mean ex-girlfriend. Still. She knows what she’s talking about.”

The sergeant nodded. “I bet she does. This is way too much,” he gestured toward the large room filled with machines.

“I believe it’s the proper response when your bestie gets permanently injured.”

“More like extravagant.” The billionaire threw him a look, suggesting he was missing the obvious. After a beat, James recalled who he was addressing. “Right. My bad. How about disproportionate?”

The man suddenly gasped. “Excuse you” Tony retorted indignantly. “Nothing is disproportionate with anything that I do or am, Barnesicle. Everything is perfectly measured, quantified, and calculated where I’m involved. I’m a certified genius in case you forgot.”

“I might’ve read about that somewhere” he quipped, amused by Tony’s theatrical repartee.

“Huh. Is that a smile I see on your lips, Terminator?”

“No” James lied, instantly losing his grin with a shake of his head and acting all serious. 

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. I don’t smile.”

“Thank goodness. For a second I thought I’d actually managed to melt that deadly frozen facade you display on your first day here.” 

With difficulty, James resisted the urge to grin or laugh and gave IronMan his best unimpressed stare. Tony chuckled, not hiding his own amusement.

“So you’re okay with these?” He motioned toward the room full of sophisticated machines.

The brainwashed assassin nodded. “As long as you don’t do all this outta guilt.”

“Oh, no. Actually I’m being selfish ‘cause it looks like working on your arm will be my only chance ever to tinker with vibranium.” Tony shrugged as he turned away. “Now. I’ve got tons of ideas for an artificial arm. Let me show you some of it. You can think about it and tell me what you decide.”

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Notes:

Don't be shy and please let me know what you think so far. Criticism is welcome here so long as you explain why you don't like this or that. Thanks to your comments, I improve the fic and as a writer. So gimme :)

Chapter 3

Notes:

Here's another chapter for you readers to discover. Hope you like it.
It's a bit short but you'll get another one this weekend. Promise :)

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Chapter 3

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They walked down to the workshop and settled before the main station where the engineer commanded the entire room. Several holographic screens rose before James’s curious eyes, an impressive amount of data appearing in seconds. Wide blue eyes ran everywhere, attempting to process everything at once.

If most information passed way above his basic understanding, a schematic on the left screen got his attention.

“What’s that?” James asked, a little hesitant. The engineer might not want to share all his current projects with Hydra’s brainwashed assassin.

Tony did not hesitate though. He pulled the design forward and enlarged it. “This is a first draft of Rhodey’s braces I worked on while I chased after you and Rogers. As soon as he’s ready to begin reeducation, I’ll start working on it again. Doing so before is useless according to doctors. Too many grey areas for now.” He pushed away the braces with a wave of his fingers. James watched in fascination how the schematics shrank down and got sent to a digital file on the left. Tony brought forward a folder labelled JBB. “Fri, go ahead and display my notes for the sergeant to see.”

The passionate engineer started talking about the prosthetic’s general features such as material, shape, mobility, housing socket, and so on. The information was clear enough for James to absorb with ease. But when they broached the main functions and a first draft of design, uncertainty and confusion took hold of him.

“Okay. So you donʼt know what kind of arm you want just yet” Tony said after James was unable to answer a question. “It’s fine. Totally fine. Told you earlier. We’ve got time. No hurry.”

James felt awkward admitting this to Tony. The man had already gone out of his way to help the soldier and it wasn’t like the genius hadn’t other priorities to deal with. 

But he had to be honest about where his problem really came from. He knew Tony wouldn’t judge him badly for it.

“Sʼmore like… how can I decide the kind of arm I want if I don’t know who I am.”

Tony observed him for a moment in silence until his brown eyes shone with understanding and then softened with empathy. “I hear you, James. You’re having a slight identity crisis at the moment. That’s understandable given everything that’s happened to you. What are you going to do about it?”

The former sniper turned ghost and assassin against his will focused on maintaining a steady voice so he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. “I hoped youʼd help me figure it out, you know… Maybe give me a bit of advice. Throw in some genius ideas.”

“On what exactly?”

James shrugged. “Not sure how to proceed. I mean… what do I do?”

“Oh boy.” Tony heaved a deep sigh as he rubbed his face. “You’re asking me but I’m definitely not the right person to help you clear things out on the whole identity crisis. I mean, I’m a mess. A real mess. I manage to keep it all in most of the time but I’ve got so many issues. My issues have issues and it’s not about to get better with what happened in Siberia. Plus, I’m notoriously famous for making bad decisions. Mostly. Just look at my record and you’ll see.” He threw a meaningful look at James’s missing shoulder for emphasis. “You should ask Rhodey when he joins us here. My brown bear is full of wisdom, you’d be surprised.”

James gave a small nod as he looked down. It had been a long shot anyway. He knew Tony might not want to help him out and he couldn’t be upset in return but he did feel kind of disappointed. There was something about Stark that soothed his anxiety. 

Suddenly, Tony let out a curse followed by another heavy sigh. “You know, that’s really not fair using the sad puppy look on me, Snowflake. Really not.” He threw the surprised soldier an annoyed look. “Okay. So…” He nervously scratched the back of his neck and then cleared his throat. “I’m certainly not gonna tell you who you are or who you’re supposed to be. So if that’s what you have in mind, forget about it. That’s for you to decide and no one else. But, uh… one thing’s for sure, you’re not your left arm, James. If anything, it’s going to reflect what you want for yourself. At least I think it should. And no matter what we end up designing, it won’t change your name or your personality or anything else that’s part of your identity.”

James listened intently, drinking every word like they came from a well of wisdom.

“As for figuring out who you are,” the engineer went on after a moment. “I don’t have a SOP for you to follow. Don’t think there is such a thing. So… maybe you could do it bit by bit and piece it together as you move along. Your hearing is scheduled in a few days. Once that’s done, you’ll be a citizen of the world once again. Hopefully things will get clearer from then on, you know?”

James nodded in silent acceptance. There was no big revelation, no magical formula to his problem, and no shortcut either. The manner in which Tony spoke made it all sound simple though. James would naturally come to figure out who he was. In time.

“You okay?” Tony’s voice was soft.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Bit by bit seems like a good idea cause I’m really not sure where any deep introspection would lead me at the moment.”

“Exactly. The silver lining is you’re not starting from scratch” the genius added as he closed the folder dedicated to the future prosthetic arm. Part of James was relieved because he didn’t feel ready to do this just yet. “You know who you were before the war, Bucktown boy, right?”

“Kinda, yeah. Some memories are clearer than others. Those are easier to appropriate as my own.”

“Like what?”

James hesitated, throwing a doubtful look at the billionaire. “You want me to tell you about my old life?”

“Why not? Come on, Winter Wonder, I’m all ears. Tell me all about James Buchanan Barnes.”

James was under no assumption the genius didn’t have tons of other things to deal with other than a lost war soldier in quest of answers only himself could provide. And yet here stood Tony Stark, face to face with the man who had unwillingly killed his family, giving said man the attention he needed. James was humbly grateful. 

As he began to recount whatever he remembered about his younger self, James decided he would do something in return for Tony.

 

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Their discussion on that first day at the Avengers compound partially opened the gates to James Buchanan Barnes’ old life. Souvenirs came back to the man from Brooklyn when he expected it the least, after a familiar sound reached his ears or he smelled a specific odor. Mostly, his memory got jogged around the two other inhabitants.

Rhodes arrived early in the morning, two days after a short stay in Columbia hospital and another series of scans. A whole medical team welcomed him, along with Tony and James, and installed the paralyzed man up in the medical wing. Tony acted all relaxed with the situation but James’s trained gaze noticed tension in his muscles and crease in his features. The most obvious tell consisted in the genius double-checking everything with the attending staff, from medical equipment and furniture down to bed linen quality.

“Cause, you know, my Rhodey’s a military. He likes his bed done just right” was the engineer’s justification for his mother-henning. Luckily for his dignity, the colonel seemed mostly out of it to notice.

Tony passed a hand to flatten a couple of creases in the bed sheets. The gesture suddenly felt familiar to the brainwashed assassin. James focused on the feeling and knew he’d lived a similar situation with Steve. And sure enough, an image of a feverish coughing younger un-enhanced blond man flashed before his eyes. James remembered being worried as he watched over the poor fella, putting some cold wet linen over his forehead and flattening the bed in the same manner. Another souvenir rushed next, one of Steve waving him away. Told’ya, Buck, m’fine. Stop hoverin’ and get to work . The words evoked a mixture of annoyance and affection.

A blink of his eyelids brought James back to the present where a worried Tony Stark was pulled aside by the attending doctor and reminded their patient needed rest.

Once he had rested enough, Colonel Rhodes earned his own tour of the facility. Although unable to stay in a wheelchair for long, the visit was shortened with a focus on the few rooms that held interest for him. It allowed Rhodes to notice the amount of renovations the billionaire had initiated specifically with his best friendʼs new limitations in mind and to comment about it as they went. James added his own two cents which led them to discuss the best term to describe the billionaire’s attitude. Words such as overprotective, overzealous, extra fussy, impulsive and dead bored were thrown on the table. Tony called it being eccentric to which Rhodes responded with a mocking snort.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were hiding something.”

“Oh, that’s how you wanna play it.”

“Maybe. Don’t hear you deny this.”

“Tony Stark, here. I don’t need to bother with crashing down your silly unfounded theory. Don’t need to hide anything from anyone. You know I’m awesome in everything I do.”

“How about that end of year party in Long Island? You lost a bet and ended up calling me to pick you up after you made a fool of yourself walking down the streets and entering a shoe store completely naked.”

“Don’t recall being entirely naked.”

“A pair of yellow rubber boots doesn’t count.”

“Beg to differ.”

The colonel scoffed. “You nearly gave the shop assistant a hard attack.”

“What can I say? I was having a bad hair day. You didn’t help the matter if I recall, jackass. You weren’t wearing much either,” the genius mocked.

“Only because I had to lend you my trucks, you ungrateful moron.”

“Huh. That’s not how I remember it, sugar bear.”

“Not surprised here. You’ve got a selective memory when it comes to your antics.”

For a minute, the two men argued back and forth about what had really happened. They had obviously known each other for a very long time. The dynamics between them was entertaining because, despite their voices rising, there wasn’t an ounce of bad blood between them. The two men quarreled like brothers.

With that thought, James’s mind traveled back to his old life, suddenly recalling how he and Rebecca, his sister, had argued in the same manner. It had happened quite a few times but the insults thrown at each other never landed a blow that had really meant to be hurtful. On the contrary, James had the distinctive impression he had enjoyed teasing the hell out of his sister who had responded in kind, annoying him endlessly about this and that in return. 

Beat it, littl’pest! - Make me, you shlub!

As those words echoed in his head, a mix of irritation and fondness spread inside the assassin’s chest. James had loved his baby sis’. 

No doubt the two men before him felt the same about each other. So it wasn’t hard to figure why Tony was being an oblivious idiot. He wanted to remind his friend that nothing had changed between them despite Colonel Rhodes being paralyzed from the waist down.

The banter session didn’t appear to be over so at the first occasion James interrupted to ask the one thing that bothered him about their lost bet story. “Hold on for a sec there. Tony, why would you enter a shoe store? You already had boots.”

The billionaire threw him a ‘isn’t that obvious’ look. “Didn’t you hear the god awful kind of footwear Rhodey mentioned? No way I parked my delicate feet and toes in those. Ew.”

The assassin got even more confused. “No matter how unhygienic, you were already wearing boots. Why didn’t you enter a clothing store first?”

“Same answer, Barnesicle” Tony replied unbothered. “And never said I was wearing them.”

It took about two seconds for James to understand. Rhodey grinned in evident amusement while James dealt with the mental image of a naked young Tony Stark walking inside a shoe store, holding yellow rubber boots in front of his dick. Or maybe it was one boot at the front and one at the back… 

“So, Stark wasn’t hiding anything back then, obviously,” James eventually told Rhodes -  the genius eccentric billionaire had no shame and was very confident about himself, even without a stitch on - “but I still believe there’s some goal behind all this. I’m staying with overzealous.”

“And I with impulsive. Tony’s always been like this. You should see the giant rabbit plush he bought Pepper. And there was no good reason for the purchase.”

“You two clearly don’t know what you’re talking about,” the genius huffed at them and turned away to continue the tour.

Rhodes threw the former sniper a challenging gaze, confident in the fact he knew his friend best, to which James responded in kind, also certain to be in the right. When they reached the not-so-aptly named Rock’n’Roll room - Tony had changed its name already arguing the word rehab had a bad connotation to most people - the colonel’s eyes went wide and James hid his smirk.

“Okay, you win” admitted the man in wheelchair. “This is definitely overzealous.” Rhodes turned to the genius. “Tones, you did way too much. I’ll never need all that stuff. Not even half of it.”

“It’s not just for you, honey bear.” 

Rhodes blinked and then his gaze moved to the sergeant, understanding lightening his features. He let out a deeply resigned sigh. “Should’ve known you’d feel responsible. You always do.”

The next minutes were dedicated to Tony Stark attempting to disguise the fact he felt responsible, even indirectly so, for his best friend’s fall into a sudden desire for medical goods consumption. One look at the colonel’s surly expression - the warmth in his eyes betrayed the man's affection - and James knew he had failed entirely.

 

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Chapter 4

Notes:

As promised :)

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Chapter 4

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James discovered very soon that making breakfast was not part of a certain billionaire’s skillset who had the bad habit of ordering food delivery for any meal. Except for making coffee, of course.

With only one hand, James’s first attempt at making breakfast was rather chaotic. Eggshells got crushed inside his right hand, whatever got in the bowl was whipped out of it, fruits refused to be peeled, juice was spilled, toasts slipped away from their plate. Plus, his damn hair kept getting in the way. James was about to give up when FRIDAY offered her assistance.

“Thanks, FRIDAY, but unless you can give me a literal hand, I’m not sure what you can do.”

“I can have one of the bots join you in the kitchen and assist you. Would that be acceptable?”

“Yes” James agreed immediately with relief. “That’d be swell, darlin’. Thanks.”

Minutes later, a robotic arm rolled inside the communal area and joined him by the kitchen counter. James spotted the letters DUM-E on the side and grinned wryly. Only Tony Stark would name one of his robots like that. With some adjustments on both parts and the AI playing interpreter, they managed to prepare what could reasonably be called breakfast.

Rhodes stayed in the medical wing as he was not fit enough to wheel around all day yet. An hour here, half an hour there, no more for the time being. Tony joined them just as the coffee finished running and made a beeline for it.

The genius hummed in appreciation as he swallowed a third of his freshly squeezed orange juice before attacking the scrambled eggs. “S’been a while I haven’t had a home cooked breakfast. It’s good.”

“Glad you enjoy it.” James was pleased to hear the compliment. “I’ll admit at first I wasn’t handling things properly until your girl sent me this little guy to help out.” Tony’s gaze followed his and landed on DUM-E. “Nice name by the way,” he quipped. “Very astute.”

“You have no idea how fitting the name is,” Tony replied with a chuckle. “A word of advice. Never let DUM-E prepare any kind of beverage without your constant surveillance.”

“Why? Does he tend to make a mess?”

“He also tends to add hydraulic oil in my smoothies.” The assassin coughed as he nearly choked on his toast, which had Tony chuckle.

“Thanks for the warning.” 

James eyed the bot suspiciously as it slowly put dirty dishes away. DUM-E interrupted his action to look at his creator and then at James before going back to his task. Was he imagining things or did the robot suddenly act all innocent? Huh.

“Yeah, you know we’re talking about you, don’t you, buddy?” Tony snorted and then focused on finishing his plate and his coffee. “So I take it you’re an early riser?”

James nodded after emptying his glass. “Yeah. Always have been from what I can remember.”

“Did you hit the gym or go for a run?”

James held back a grimace. “I did, yeah. But, uh… it’s not quite the same.” He tried very hard not to fidget or squirm under the engineer’s observing gaze. 

Under no circumstances would the sergeant complain about missing an arm and the weird sensation of lacking balance while running to the man from whom he had taken both parents for good. At least he would soon get a prosthesis. He would deal with it until then.

<<~>> <<~>> <<~>>

 

Dr Helen Cho was on her way to the compound and would be there in a couple hours.

James distracted himself with cleaning the mess he had made in the kitchen and then visited Colonel Rhodes. They talked about their respective experiences within the US Army and Air Force, comparing the two corps and, predictably, teased each other. It had been custom, even back in the 40s, yardbird versus flyboy and all that silly stuff.

As they talked, James couldn’t help smiling a little. His time training with fellow soldiers had been tough but filled with good moments nonetheless. He’d been drafted like half of the men and yet, he had enjoyed pushing his body to become stronger and faster, learning how to fight and use weapons, training as a sniper, sweating and suffering along with the others, participating in the competition while improving his skills so he’d be able to do what was asked of him on the front line. The thing the former sniper had really loved above all was the guys. These men who, despite their differences, had all been in the same boat as James, reluctantly or not, willingly or not. These men who had learned to fight together as well as to protect each other from the enemy. Bootcamp had turned them into soldiers, war had made them brothers in arms. They had shared the same fears, the same hopes, they had cried and laughed together, and that was something not even seven decades of brainwashing and torture could steal from Sergeant James Barnes.

“Sorry to interrupt” FRIDAY said as Colonel Rhodes finished recounting his own bootcamp experience. “Doctor Cho has arrived. She will be there in a few minutes to see Sergeant Barnes.”

Reminiscing about the endless series of push-ups while getting yelled at by a domineering instructor had allowed James to forget about the doctor’s visit. He stood up as soon as the doors opened and was introduced to Helen Cho.

The doctor spent a few minutes with Rhodes, taking news about his own condition, and then invited James to follow her to the next room. She had him remove his shirt and answer a few questions, including how the base plates had been fixed on his shoulder and chest in the first place. His answer did not please the geneticist. James had not been conscious during that procedure which was something he had always been grateful for. He only had a very vague souvenir of waking up, discovering with horror his flesh and bone arm had been replaced with a heavy cybernetic metal one, and then reaching for the throat of the person closest to him and squeezing as hard as he could. Immense pain had followed. That, he remembered perfectly even after all this time.

The asian woman approached and moved gentle hands up on his shoulder. James tensed up. He didn’t have the best experience with lab coats. He managed to control any knee jerk reaction but the asset inside him wanted it over as soon as possible, readying himself for pain that would undoubtedly follow.

Thankfully, the medical examination didn’t last more than a couple of minutes and eventually Doctor Cho confirmed there was no possible recovery of his left limb. After so many decades, tissues had scarred beyond anything that could be regenerated with or without the Cradle, whatever that was. And that was without counting the effect of the serum running through his veins. The silver lining was that the new prosthetic should be much lighter and therefore would not tug so much on his upper body. 

Moments later, Tony joined them upon invitation - James relaxed with the man in his proximity - and with Cho they discussed improvements on the interface between the current base Hydra’s scientists had linked to his nervous system and the future prosthesis. The best option seemed to be the addition of a patch once the rest of the shredded arm was removed. Said patch would facilitate the nervous interface, improving the synaptic impulse and also allowing James to flip sensations on and off whenever needed. It would also serve as a housing support for the new bionic arm.

“How long will that take?” James asked after Tony explained the procedure.

“A couple hours once I have the patch ready.”

“Great. Remind me to grab a good book before you start.”

Tony’s gaze widened in surprise. Cho was the first to respond though. “You’re not gonna be awake for this, Sergeant Barnes. You’ll be put under anesthesia the whole time.”

“Is that necessary?” James asked with a confused look toward the engineer. “I thought you unplugged the sensation generator.”

“I did” Tony confirmed, “but when we set up the patch there’s a possibility of local synapses overload and it won’t be pleasant if that happens.”

“How high a possibility?”

“Given the state of your tissues and the presence of serum in your bloodstream, it’s a small one” answered Cho.

“Then, no anesthesia.” He noticed how Tony flinched at his words but the doctor spoke, pulling his attention back on her.

“Sergeant Barnes, the possibility may be small but you will be in pain if that happens. We wish to avoid any discomfort during the procedure which will take time. It’s best for you to sleep through it.”

James closed his eyes for a moment, his mind going back to the burning cold assaulting every single nerve down to the air in his lungs as he was put to sleep in the cryo-chamber. He shook his face to chase away the memory. “I’ll take my chances. Besides, I can handle a bit of pain. I’ve been through much worse.”

Beside him, Tony let out a short sigh while a hand rubbed at the centre of his chest. “No. Not gonna do it. No way.” The assassin didn’t miss the tightness of the man’s features betraying his sudden anxiety. “There’s no way I’m doing this with you awake, James. No way at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not Hydra!” The soldier’s eyes widened in shock at the words spilled harshly from Tony’s mouth. “I’m not doctor es torture either. As a general rule, I tend to avoid pain for myself and anyone else around me. I get you believe it normal to be in pain because of what those fuckers did to you for years and years, but it’s not. That’s their way of doing things. Not mine, not Helen’s, not any doctors since the invention of chloroform.”

James realized he had touched a nerve. His gaze fell on the billionaire’s chest, a hand still rubbing its center. Tony dropped his hand immediately but couldn’t entirely hide his tortured gaze.

“We might be able to do a partial anesthesia,” offered Doctor Cho after a moment. “That is, if you’re really uncomfortable with being unconscious during the procedure. It’s not ideal given the proximity with your heart and lungs so we’d have to be very careful and precise with the injections.” 

Cho continued to explain what would involve a partial anesthesia and James was grateful for her insight. It helped knowing precisely what they intended to do. In the end, James accepted this solution offered to him which allowed the engineer to sigh in evident relief. The assassin wasn’t sure why Tony had reacted that way. Pain had been part of James’s life for the past seven decades. He was used to it.

Or… maybe not all his life.

Actually, the things James recalled about his former life drove him to the conclusion he had been reasonably happy and healthy. Physical pain echoed mainly with souvenirs of the war or as Hydra’s brainwashed asset. 

Okay, so maybe Tony’s words were true. Maybe pain didn’t have to be so present in life. Maybe it could be avoided.

Part of James cautiously wanted to hope that it was possible while another part wanted to snort at the idiotic concept of the absence of pain. In his own experience, pain mainly came from fighting or from punishment which arose along with conflict and resistance. Something that his handlers had taken great pleasure in teaching their stubbornly unobedient asset. The chair hadn’t been their only means.

Compliance will be rewarded. Fail to comply and you will be punished.

James shuddered as he revisited that damp dark basement with that damn fucking chair in its center. Electricity invading his temples and spreading, thousands of microscopic sharpened as hell knives slicing every millimeter inside his head. He had to focus here and make a specific effort to chase from his head the remnants of his regular torture at Hydra’s hands.

Stop , James prayed. No more. No more pain.

<<~>> <<~>> <<~>> <<~>> <<~>> <<~>>

 

Chapter 5

Notes:

Hi to all.
I've just finished checking this part and I just can't wait the weekend to post it!!
So here you go with a dive into James Barnes' past life and some bonding time with both Tony and Rhodey.
Also you should begin to see who this 'new' James Barnes wants to be.
I really hope you enjoy this part. Please let me know what you think :)
PS: I've actually researched fandoms to try and find acurate data, but not easy since there are so many... I've taken what most comonly comes up about JBB's life. Hope you're okay with this.

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Chapter 5

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After Doctor Cho left, James needed a distraction and decided to try his hand at modern cuisine.  He had managed breakfast, surely he could manage to prepare a decent meal. Tony chose to stick around until his next meeting with the new UN liaison and was now assisting the former sniper in his endeavor.

It took about ten minutes for the sergeant to realize that, if he wanted to survive with proper food on his plate once in a while, he couldn’t entrust any cooking task to Tony Stark.

“How did you manage to make it so far without learning the basics of cooking?”

“Easy. I let others do it for me.”

“You mean you either hire a cook or have food delivered.” When the billionaire doesn’t answer, James chuckles. “Got a strainer?”

“Sure.” The genius opened a cupboard and another, searching for the requested item. It took a third attempt to find it.

When he asked for a couple of plates, the same thing happened.

With a frown, James focused on what he was doing. The genius seemed lost in this kitchen which maybe was to be expected since there was another one in the building. But if Tony actually lived here, then he ought to have occasional use for a plate or cutlery. At the very least a mug, a spoon and coffee beans in either kitchen. No doubt the team ate together once in a while, too. Anyone would get acquainted with items around if exposed regularly. And yet, James was ready to bet Tony was just as lost in the other kitchen.

“Tony? Don’t you live here?”

“I do. Just not all the time. I move around whenever I’m needed elsewhere for SI business. Occasionally I stay at the old mansion where I grew up,” Tony explained as he finally found where plates were hidden. “Officially I’m a non active combattant, meaning I donʼt participate in the day to day Avengers activities while I’m around. Only when my presence is required will I join the team. The rest of the time I fix their gear and deal with whatever needs to be done at the compound. I’ve got SI stuff to work on, too. Keeps me occupied enough.” 

James raised an eyebrow at his last words. It sounded a lot like TinkerMan hoped to get busy with work and other things whenever he stayed at the Avengers compound. 

Noticing his reaction, Tony went on quickly. “I mean I spend all my time between the office and the workshop. Learning how to cook is not really a priority of mine. I made Pepper an omelet once. That’s something, right?”

James hummed in acceptance of the given explanation. It all sounded like a convenient excuse. Truth was Tony avoided spending time with the other tenants when they lived under his roof. Because this was Tony Stark’s property. And it seemed the man didn’t want to be here.

Not wanting to push on the matter, James moved onto another subject.

“Anything exciting scheduled for this afternoon?”

“I got a video-call with the new UN liaison. And then, let’s see. Only half a dozen projects that are impatiently waiting for genius me to get on it” Tony replied as he followed James’s instruction to wash tomatoes.

James hesitated and then went for it. “Think I could tag along for a bit, TinkerMan?”

The engineer scrutinized him for a short moment before speaking. “You’re welcome to join me down there, Tasty Freeze. I planned on designing your patch so I might need your insight.”

“S’fine” James agreed, hiding his relief as he focused on the lunch he attempted to make. He did not feel like being alone and the man’s presence was reassuring.

<<~>> <<~>> <<~>>

 

James went down to the workshop as soon as FRIDAY informed him Tony was done with his video-call.

The engineer was already hard at work, typing away on a keyboard and giving rapid instructions to FRIDAY. In a matter of minutes, he had a first draft for James’s patch on the holographic display. The assassin tried to contain the excited boy inside him while he manipulated the casted image for the first time. 

James had always been interested in science and the workshop was like a dreamland. He couldn’t help thinking about the day before he left for England and all the great things he had seen at the exposition. Howard Stark’s demonstration of the next flying car had lit up the torch of fascination within James, a thirst for discovery that had been quelled later on by Hydra, but that was reignited around TinkerMan.

Once the patch design finished, FRIDAY announced it would take two hours to produce the rough version. Tony explained he would work himself on it afterwards to finalize the patch. They went back to work on the vibranium prosthesis designs, exchanging more ideas and discussing them in depth. The engineer really knew his science and brought relevant advice to the discussion. Though, for now, James was still not sure exactly what he wanted for himself. When they had exhausted all the wild unrealistic ideas for his artificial limb - which included but didn’t limit to having inside the prosthesis a third arm because who didn’t need a third arm, helicopter blades for a quick escape, a segway for lazy days, and a miniaturized freezing compartment with food and drinks for whenever feeling peckish - they moved onto more serious subjects such as current SI ongoing projects.

Being around Tony was surprisingly easy. The genius was relaxed, easygoing, a banter and a nickname always on the lips. He looked in his element surrounded by machines and robots, and James was just fascinated by them. Tony answered any question about his tech James dared to ask without showing the least bit of impatience or boredom. Then James got to observe the genius in action as he worked on several projects. Those whiskey brown eyes screamed intelligence and passion as their owner analyzed, calculated, solved, created, fixed and improved.

The asset lost measure of time as his icy blue gaze stared at those deft long fingers from sight the whole time. 

“You know, I could find something for you to do around here.” Tonyʼs voice pulled him out of his staring session. “I mean if youʼre interested.”

“Mʼalways interested” James chose to answer and act all cool and not at all like a leering idiot. 

“Have you ever put your hands under the hood of a real lady?”

“I assume we’re talking about cars.” Tony nodded once. “Not sure what you call a real lady but I’ve learned a bit about engines in my days. Replaced spark plugs, drained oil, this sort of thing. Why?”

“Lately, I’ve been thinking of adding another marvel of stylish mechanics to my collection. I have my eyes on a Ford coupe from 1938. One of a kind, of course. A classic beauty, thatʼs obvious. She’d need a few repairs and some loving touch. Is that something that would interest you, Winter Wonder?”

James grinned at the nickname and nodded, barely managing to hide his enthusiasm. The little boy inside him was jumping up and down in excitement. “Yeah, sure. That’d be swell.”

“Swell, huh?” The genius said, not buying his casual act. He scrutinized the assassinʼs perfect poker face for a couple of seconds, huffed a laugh and went back to his tech. 

James managed to wait a grand total of ten seconds - the young boy kept nudging his adult self in the ribs with a ‘go for it’ look - before he asked. “Just out of curiosity, could you make her fly?” He nearly added ‘like Howard did’ but it wasn’t necessary. The engineer had heard it anyway.

“Damn right I could. And let me assure you she would hold much longer than 10 seconds before crashing down in front of your gawking eyes and a ‘holy cow’ of wonderment.”

James remained speechless, wondering how Tony could know with that level of precision how that evening had happened. “Steve sold me out?”

“He did.”

“Damn him.”

“He also said you went to entertain gals while he went to join the army.”

“Huh. That’s one way to look at it,” James mused. “My version states I found us two lovely dates to enjoy what was my last day of freedom before Iʼd be shipped out to England, and my friend abandoned all three of us right after Howard’s quite impressive show to lie for the fifth time on his registration form, hoping to join the army so he could prove he was just as good a man as any other.”

“Do I detect a little resent in that dulcet voice of yours, Barnesicle?”

“Yeah. If I recall, I nearly lost my date because of that punkʼs stupid move. Her friend was all upset to be dumped cold by Stevie. I had to charm my way back in her favor so I wouldn’t get dumped too.”

“Sounds awful. Poor girl.”

“Hey” James complained at Tony’s playful quip. The renowned former playboy just laughed. “I used to be a pretty charming fella.”

“And a soldier about to be shipped out to fight Nazis. I bet that helped your case to get a warm goodbye.” Tony wiggled his eyebrow meaningfully before turning away once more. 

For his part, James tried to recall what had happened that last night before his departure. He couldn’t remember for sure the name of his date. Was it Linda or Lisa? A brunette and a real doll. He remembered taking her and her friend dancing and sweet talking them into enjoying the evening when it had become clear the punk wouldn’t show up again. He couldn’t remember what had happened after that, the rest of the evening all fuzzy.

All James knew for sure was he had gotten lucky somehow, spending some rushed quality time with a pretty brunette before the night’s end.

The super soldier’s grumbling empty stomach reminded them of the passing time.

“Let’s order in” the engineer decided in between code lines. “How about Chinese?”

“Uh… I’d like to make something instead. If you don’t mind.”

“Sure. If that’s what you want, go ahead.” Tony replied without hesitation. “You’re the only one around here who should anyway cause Rhodey’s an even worse cook than I am, and that’s saying something.”

The deadpan quip came out instantly. “Terrifying.”

“Yep. Why d’you really think I order all the time?”

“Right. That has nothing to do with you being unable to differentiate salt from ice sugar until it ruins someone’s homemade dessert.” The billionaire threw him a both shocked and suspicious stare, clearly stating it was all true. James displayed a smirk as he stood up. “That’s right. Rhodes talks too.”

“Traitor.”

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The most potent memories arose while James made good use of the kitchen. Something about smells and aromas and the positive association his subconscious made. A general sense of safety, warmth and belonging wrapped around the assassin’s chest without him knowing why.

“Home” said Rhodes after James had shared these feelings out loud during his short escape from the medical wing. “That’s what it sounds like.”

James looked up from the stove and repeated the word, testing it. “Home… Yeah. Sounds about right.”

Rhodes picked up a knife and started dicing vegetables. “When I was young, my mom used to make a to-die-for meatloaf on Sundays, the only day when we were all at home together. It became a kind of tradition. Then life happens, you know. I left for college then joined the army, my sister Jeanette went on with her life too, and we only gathered occasionally for the holidays or Christmas. But whenever I came home after a long absence, she cooked that same meatloaf just for me, and even if we weren’t all present, it felt like home.”

James kept his gaze on the repetitive chopping sound of the knife hitting the board, letting his own souvenirs come back. 

His mother in the small kitchen, mixing pastry for the customary plum pie that he remembered being his favorite. And then his sister, alone in the same small kitchen, preparing something for them to share. It hadn’t been much at times, a mere loaf of bread and soup, sometimes gotten after hours of waiting down the line. One thing James recalled more clearly was the sensation that every morning he had left for a day of work down the docks he had felt full and ready to take on the whole day. 

A rush of emotions invaded his chest as he remembered why.

“She looked after me” James heard himself say out loud. “My sister… Ma was gone then. I was 16 and the only one who could work and get somethin’ in. I’d found a paying job at the docks. An old friend of my dads had recommended me to the guy in charge. It was hard work, physical but good. Satisfying. I helped with inventories, count crates and boxes as they got in or out of a container, made sure the shipment was good and ready, helped out here and there with repairs. Ol’Paddy had only one eye left, he wasn’t entirely there after the war, and he made me double check his work.” A grin flashed over his mouth at the thought of the old Irishman who used to slip him a little extra he’d take from the ‘lost and found’ storage, usually something that came from an unidentified package. “The salary was small but it allowed me to pay part of the rent and bring some food back home. More often than necessary, Rebecca would give me a larger portion at breakfast, taking from hers, just so I could work hard all day and bring back money at the end of the week. It had been her way of caring for me… so I could care for her in return.”

A slight burning smell pulled James’s attention back to the stove. He stirred the preparation, making sure none would stick to the pan.

“Rebecca was 12 when Ma died, I was 15, and she took upon herself to care for me then. My littl’sis. When all I wanted was to care for her.” His chest filled with sadness and regret. “Up until I got drafted in the Army, she looked after me, after our family, and made me feel loved and protected. I was the one supposed to do that. With our parents both gone, it was my responsibility.”

It was what James had wanted to do most of all. To be able to look after his family.

And then, just because he knew the colonel would understand, he added : “And the pest beat me to it.” 

Rhodes chuckled. “Yeah. Baby sisters are the worst. We love them but they just won’t let us watch over them. So annoying.”

James couldn’t agree more.

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Cooking had never been a particularly appreciated activity but now it felt different. The former sniper relished the precision, the patience it required, and the opportunity to use his skills with a knife without having to slice anyone’s throat. James felt in control here. It was a nice change of pace. He also didn’t have to follow anyone’s orders and had free reign over his actions which was still a novelty. It felt kind of heady.

During the meal, James gained through no fault of his own the title of Chef and so offered to take charge of all food related matters for all residence inhabitants. Both the colonel and the mechanic agreed wholeheartedly with this decision which comforted him. Truth was James had doubted the idea would be welcomed, partly because the supposedly smartest tenant didn’t have the best habits when eating was concerned, regularly missing a meal or two.

“I can only apologize about that. Despite me following protocols in place, the boss doesn’t listen much to me when I remind him to sustain himself adequately.”

“I do listen, FRIDAY, I just donʼt need to eat three times a day” Tony argued earnestly.

“More like you forget about everything when you’re in one of your creative binges,” Rhodes reminded his friend and their audience.

“What can I say? Science requires sacrifices.”

“Really? Does science require you not to rest for 30 hours in a row?” James’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. That couldn’t be healthy.

“Letʼs not exaggerate. It happens maybe once a month.”

“Every two weeks would be closer to the truth, boss,” FRIDAY chipped in happily, earning herself a glare from her creator. 

Rhodes went on without missing a beat. “Does science require you only drink coffee for that same time period?” James’s eyes went wide at this. How did the man hold it together with only coffee in his system?! 

“I got so many projects that need to move forward. Caffeine helps me think!” 

Rhodes huffed in disgust. “Sure. Just like not getting any fresh air and not exercising at all helps you maintain a healthy life.”

“Now youʼre being dramatic” the genius countered, dismissing his friendʼs concern. “Got a lot on my plate at the moment, platypus, you know that. Besides, Iʼm in good shape.”

“You look tired 24/7, Tones.”

Now that Rhodes said it, James recalled noticing signs of fatigue on the billionaire’s features. The man rarely had a moment to himself and never stopped working on something. The sergeant hid his displeasure, realizing TinkerMan didn’t properly take care of himself, putting his own needs after everything else.

“Aaw. Look at you all tough on the outside and all gummy bear and soft inside. No reason to worry about me, honey bear. I’m perfectly fine.”

The colonel heaved a resigned sigh and turned to the assassin with an expectant look. James took it as his turn to try and reason with the stubborn genius. However, reasoning didn’t seem the best option here. So he decided to go about it another way and use a tool that amazingly enough had shown results before.

“Uh, Tony… Does that mean you’re not gonna eat what I cook for you?” James then displayed what he hoped was the exact same ‘sad puppy face’ the mechanic hadn’t been able to resist the other day. “Cause I was hoping about making you guys a few recipes from my days, you know?”

Tony’s eyes narrowed in distrust. “I know what you’re trying to do there. That’s not fair. Don’t do it.”

“You don’t want me to cook?” James doubled the dose of sadness and added a disappointed pout. “Okay. I get it. It’s too bad, though, ‘cause I liked the idea. But s’fine, really. Besides, there’s no point if you’re not gonna eat any of it. Or pretend to and throw it in the bin.”

Tony let out a deep groan before dropping his head down. “Fine. I’ll eat whatever you make.” He then raised a finger in warning toward the new Chef. “But don’t you try and fatten me up or I won’t be able to fit into the suit. And then you’ll have to explain to the UN Committee why IronMan is unable to go rescue kittens up their international trees.”

Rhodey snorted. “Should’ve thought of it. Tony’s always been a sucker for blue eyes.”

At these words, James didn’t hesitate and sent a flirtatious wink to the genius who responded with a rather weak glare.

After dinner, James started immediately to search for different recipes, ones he knew about, ones he’d vaguely heard of, or complete new ones, and with help from FRIDAY, ended up having the whole week planned. He would make sure Tony fed regularly and in a healthy manner, whether the genius liked it or not. 

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Notes:

Here's a request to readers, perhaps more to those of you who have siblings: I'm thinking of adding some more bonding later on, and I'm looking for good but NICE practical jokes that would be fun to integrate. I'm the last of 4 and my 2 big brothers used to chase after me and then shoot me with guns loaded with tiny plastic marbles. Not fun at all for me... and painful. Idiots! The both of them. So I'm lacking examples as you can see. A little help please?

Chapter 6

Summary:

James and Tony discussed the current situation after Leipzig, the team, as well as their own feelings of 'guilt'.
Also, as the hearing before the judge approaches, James remembers something about himself that will affect him.

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Chapter 6

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The next day started early with a renewed attempt at running in the woods around the compound and along the river. Once again unsatisfied, James exerted himself in the gym instead and then hit the shower before preparing breakfast for all official inhabitants. He spent a couple hours with Rhodes, talking about this and that, but also about what he was supposed to do next. The colonel listened, chipping in with his own piece of advice, and then they switched places and James was the one giving all his attention to the man.

The two James had quite a bit in common. Both military dedicated to protect their country, both injured in the line of duty, and both currently uncertain of their respective future. They understood one another despite the differences in their experience. Incidentally, they would also get fixed up by one Tony Stark and the renowned competence of the genius gave them both hope. Rhodes had more difficulty believing, given the irreparable aspect of his injury. In response, James asked him to share some of his best friend’s most impressive strike of genius, which allowed Rhodes to remember he was in the best hands possible.

Doctor Cho and one of her colleagues came to the Avengers compound later. In spite of Tony’s previous concern, the surgery went without a hitch. Once Tony had removed the remains of the shredded arm, he modified the plates on his shoulder and set up the patch, all this under the constant vigilance of the two doctors regarding James’s comfort and synapses response. The asset didn’t like being under so much attention, especially not with the unknown doctor regularly injecting local anesthetics where Tony worked. Still, it was better than being forced to sleep.

Once everything was finished and Tony felt satisfied James was not under any kind of pain or strain or discomfort whatsoever, Doctor Cho and co left. Tony disappeared inside his office, having simply too much work for a lunch break. James spent time catching up on some reading material, perusing the most recent news. The sergeant ended up lost in his head, drawing lazily on a pad while thinking about what he could do. He was free to choose for himself what the future entailed, but that didn’t make the decision easy. His discussions with Tony and Rhodes helped to consider all the possibilities but the always present memories of his actions under Hydra’s brainwashing did not make it simple. 

His conscience told James he didn’t have the right to have his life back, much less to be happy. His brain told James he never had a real choice and therefore deserved another chance. The guilt paralyzed him every time he attempted to picture himself in the future, living reasonably happy. It just was impossible for the assassin at the moment.

Giving up with a heavy sight, the newly designated kitchen chef started on preparing his very first lasagna for dinner. With FRIDAY accompanying him every step, it was easy enough.

“Thank you, FRIDAY. You’re a great help.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant Barnes. I’m happy to help.”

“No need to be so formal, darlin. Call me James.”

“Careful, cupcake. That’s dangerously close to flirting” Tony said as he entered the room. “Do I need to keep an eye on you two?”

“That won’t be necessary unless you worry I’d steal your girl” James answered playfully as he glanced up. He spotted immediately the tension present inside the man’s body. “What’s going on?”

IronMan walked straight toward the coffee machine. “Oh, not much. Just dealing with a shitload of stuff that’s hit the fan since Leipzig.”

“Such as?”

“PR is a nightmare, the team at SI puts out fire after fire. I don’t even know how they manage. Must be Pepper’s influence. Legal is in the thick of it, too, since the Accords have been ratified. We’ve sent a first proposition to amend that shitty Registration Act Thaddeus loved so much. I’m hoping to turn it into something more acceptable for everyone concerned. We’ve also been working on getting our current felons transferred to a proper prison which has finally been granted and not without effort. They’ll be relocated to an American prison within the next twelve hours. Given the unlawful conditions in which they’ve been detained, Philipps, one of my lawyers, managed to have them processed expediently. Since none of them are actual terrorists, they’ll each be counseled by a legal rep while Everett Ross and his team interview them about events that led to destroying Leipzig airport. Did you know the media already refers to it as the Avengers Civil War?” He huffed in disgust. “Just a bunch of hungry sharks.”

“They’ll be charged?” James asked after a small silence.

“Not sure. It’s up to them and the judge. Philipps is trying to get the whole lot, including Rogers, dealt by the same judge who will hear you in two days. He says it’ll help.”

James observed the man for a moment. “You donʼt look satisfied with this outcome. Any reason why?”

Tony raised the now filled mug, took a long sip of coffee, but said nothing. The longer the silence, the more James believed he shouldnʼt have asked.

“You donʼt have to tell me if you donʼt want to” he added, focusing on the dinner.

The genius took a step toward him. “Itʼs not I donʼt want to tell you. Itʼs just…” James looked up again and noticed the mixed emotions on Tony’s features. “Iʼm not sure what to think about each of them for now. Whether or not we agreed on the Accords doesn’t matter. Not really. Fact is they all turned their back on all this as soon as Rogers batted his eyelashes. Iʼm not even sure they knew the risks involved or the possible consequences for their actions. Maybe they did and I donʼt know which is worse. That they supported Captain America through and through, blind to anything else but their loyalty to him, or that they knowingly turned their back on me.” Tony winced. “Natasha would tell me off for being egotistical. And maybe sheʼd be right on this one. Maybe it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with their loyalty or their own principles. Go figure.”

James watched silently as the engineer tapped his fingers on the kitchen counter and chewed in his lips.

“It frustrates you not knowing. Whether they chose to follow Steve blindly or to fight for what seemed right to them.” His blue gaze stared at the genius whose eyes fled under the scrutiny. “This has nothing to do with your ego. You really think you are responsible somehow for their actions, donʼt you?”

“Clint was pretty upfront about who he believes is responsible for the whole thing, starting with Ultron. And Wanda, let’s say sheʼs rightfully pissed at me.”

“Cause she had to stay here?”

Tony nodded. “Among other things, yeah. I didn’t tell her about it and that was stupid, I know. Thatʼs on me. I didn’t want her to feel trapped. Having Wanda stationed here aimed mostly to reassure other people and to keep Ross away. People do stupid things when they’re scared and that includes members of the United Nations. I knew they’d take more aggressive steps if there was one more incident involving her.”

“Tony, Steve sent Barton to get her out. At that moment, he didn’t know your goal was to protect Maximoff. He does now thanks to Ross. But he had to know she would be in trouble for leaving the house. So he is responsible, too. And so is Barton, depending on what Steve told him. Rescuing a kidnapped colleague is different from breaking them out of home knowing they’ll be wanted by authorities at the first mishap. Maximoff herself mightʼve asked why sheʼd been forced to stay here. Maybe she did, Barton answered, and she still decided to leave the house. Maybe there wasn’t enough time for a full explanation and Barton didn’t give her the opportunity to make a sound decision. Considering the damage done to this house when they escaped, Iʼd say Wanda’s decision to leave was her own.”

James paused, giving the genius time to process it all. “Sounds like you’re not the only one responsible for the womanʼs current situation.”

Amazingly enough, his words seemed to reach the thickheaded man so he went on. 

“I donʼt know much about the Ultron events cause I had my own issues to tackle then, but I bet you can apply the same concept to those events. Every person involved holds a share in responsibility over their own decisions and actions. Believing that only one person, namely you, TinkerMan, is responsible for everything is nonsensical. Sounds to me like Barton was lashing out at you when he designed you the sole responsible for everything. Doesn’t mean he’s right. Doesn’t make you responsible for his actions either.” 

Tony kept staring ahead of him, looking in the void, while taking in the assassin’s words.

“Decisions and actions, Tony. That’s what we are responsible for. We only have control over what we choose to do in a given situation. Nothing more.”

“I’ll be damned” the genius breathed after a long moment in silence. “You make a really good case about responsibility. Kudos for the effort.”

“I sense a but.”

The billionaire let out a deep sigh that betrayed his resignation. “You’re right. I’m not responsible for a whole lot of things despite what others like to think. But I still feel responsible. I could have done better. Should have, really.”

“Yeah. I’m very familiar with that specific sentiment. Guilt is not easy to let go.” James kept his eyes down on the preparation, sensing the man’s gaze on him. “My case is a bit different as I had literally no control over my actions. Still, I did all of it.” His voice was only a whisper. “I took all those lives and… I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling remorse.”

Admitting that much to the son of two of his victims allowed James’s conscience to lighten just a little bit. His sense of guilt weighted exactly the same, though. Killing an innocent woman was awful enough. Killing a brother in arms, someone he knew and who had trusted him, was just as bad, if not worse. Howard Stark had been no innocent per say, he had been working on a super soldier serum and most likely had known the risks involved. But it didn’t change the way James felt about the man’s death. Howard had not deserved such a fate.

James jerked out of his thoughts as a warm hand landed on his shoulder. “Maybe in time, you’ll learn how to let go. Just know that I don’t blame you for my parents’ death. Not anymore.”

Warmth spread inside the sergeant’s chest and threatened to invade his throat. He couldn’t speak just yet. James coughed to chase the odd sensation and gave a short nod to Tony. 

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The day of the hearing, James woke up drenched from a nightmare. It hadn’t been the first and would certainly not be the last. The ghost of his victims regularly haunted his nights. Some came and went before sleep ended. Some had more impact than others, lingering for hours after he had woken up.

This time, something changed when the very human voice of FRIDAY spoke, stating facts and unimportant information about his surroundings. The AI even added a few sentences such as ‘everything’s okay’, ‘you’re safe’ and ‘take a deep breath’. When James asked, FRIDAY told him the boss found it helpful when he had a nightmare or a panic attack.

“Does it happen often?”

“Since I’ve been activated, nightmares have been frequent. Panic attacks happen on rare occasions.”

“And before that?”

FRIDAY remained silent before answering. “It’s difficult to know with precision as my older brother is no longer functional. But Mister Stark had them quite often if I’m to trust some details mentioned by Miss Potts and Colonel Rhodes.”

“You had a brother?”

“Indeed. JARVIS was the boss’s first learning artificial intelligence. He created him many years ago when he built the Malibu house.”

“What happened to him?” James asked as he remembered Tony speaking fondly of his old butler.

“I don’t have every detail on how it happened as my protocols were mostly limited to assisting the IronMan suit. Most of JARVIS data and memory were destroyed last year. Only his protocols remained and were hosted into the vibranium body in which the Vision was born.”

The AI didn’t add anything else. James sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his face tiredly. He was just too out of it to make sense of all this for now.

“Thanks for the help, FRIDAY.”

“My pleasure, James. Would you like me to reiterate in case of another bad dream?”

The sergeant quickly considered the offer. “Yeah, why not. Now I know, it might help me pull out of it faster.”

“If you have any preference on the manner I wake you, either the words or the tone of my voice, don’t hesitate to let me know. I am capable of adapting to your specific needs.”

James thought about what would help him through one of his nightmares. A couple of things came to mind which made the soldier hesitate. Could he really ask this to the AI? FRIDAY seemed willing to help him through his nightmares. The needed skill could be learned after all, so maybe the AI could too.

Hesitantly, James made his request and FRIDAY accepted, assuring him she would only need a few hours to get the basics.

“Thanks, FRIDAY. You’re too kind to me.”

“I might be influenced by my creator here but I don’t think there is such a thing as ‘too much’ when assisting someone under my purview.”

The sergeant chuckled. FRIDAY was definitely Tony’s girl.

<<~>> <<~>> <<~>>

 

James went on with what started to resemble a daily routine: gym, shower, breakfast, visiting Colonel Rhodes - the man told him to call him Rhodey since he had paid him more visits than his supposed best friend so far - reading and catching up with the 21st century. James tried not to think too much about the hearing. Tony’s attempts at lightening the mood didn’t go unnoticed and were partially successful which James was grateful for. He still didn’t get how Tony could be so kind to him. The assassin didn’t deserve any of it.

Right after an early lunch, Tony suggested that he’d go put on something a bit more formal to meet the judge. James wasn’t convinced wearing any kind of strict outfit would help his case, but both Tony and Rhodey insisted that appearances were important, even in closed court. Accepting they knew best on the matter, the former sniper did as told and put on charcoal dress pants with a matching jacket and a white shirt. All generously provided by Tony Stark. More kindness.

James slid the jacket on when someone knocked on the door. “Come in.”

“Hey, snowflake. How’re you doing?” Tony said as he entered the room and stopped several feet away.

“You tell me” James replied, turning from the mirror to look at the genius. Tony’s eyes ran down and up on the assassinʼs body. His gaze lingered just enough for James to know the man approved.

“You clean up good” he confirmed, clearing his throat. James noticed the little awkwardness but didn’t say anything about it. “Here. Let me.” Tony came closer to help with the right sleeve. He also made sure the left one was in order. “How about a tie?”

“Isn’t it too formal?”

“Depends on which one. Come on, I’ll show you what I have.”

James followed the billionaire up to his own bedroom, just above his own. It was about the same size as his, no extra luxury suite for the building’s owner. Though Tony did have an impressive dressing and opened a drawer with at least twenty different ties.

“Best you choose for yourself. For some reason I always end up going for either red or gold.”

The soldier’s lips twisted up in amusement. Perusing through the silk material, he opted for a blue one with gray patterns. As he slid the tie around his neck, he realized he wouldn’t go far with only one hand.

“I have no doubt you’d manage on your own, Snowflake, but since I’m here…”

James nodded and faced Tony who swiftly pulled the tie away and slid it around his own neck to do the knot, all the while mumbling something about a snake and a tree. James found it endearing that, even after many years of practice, the genius still needed a reminder to make a simple tie knot.

“That should do it.” Tony pulled on the knot enough to remove the tie and passed it around the soldier’s bowed head.

James stayed quiet while Tony raised the shirt collar and placed the tie properly. A tingling sensation made itself known with the man’s proximity. James could literally smell Tony’s body wash. Or was it shampoo? He leaned just enough to inhale. Yes, definitely shampoo. He didn’t recognize the smell but it was fruity and enticing.

His eyes closed just for a moment and his mind was suddenly invaded by the memory of a pretty brunette, touching him all the right ways, making James feel alive and ready to combust from intense pleasure. The dark-haired head rose to reveal a smug smile over a masculine face. James gasped as he recalled that night more clearly. He had spent his last night in New York with a fella. A bold sweet-looking man who had succumbed to his advances and then had made the sergeant see stars thanks to his talented hands. A fella who had had the same tempting lips and a full set of thick eyelashes than the handsome brunet standing right before him.

James Buchanan Barnes suddenly recalled having a specific type for his chosen partners. Mouthy, confident, beautiful small brunettes.

He also realized that Tony Stark fell right into this category.

“There you go” Tony said as he flattened the tie one last time. He stepped away from the assassin, looking a bit embarrassed. James realized he had been staring at the man’s mouth, most likely causing his discomfort. “Ready?”

“Yeah” he replied, smoothing his features into a calm expression. “Thanks.”

The genius reached for his own jacket and gestured toward the door. James walked out first, hoping he hadn’t made the man too uncomfortable. Tony was a handsome and attractive man and was most probably used to people making bold moves to seduce him. But not in his own home.

And most definitely not by his parents’ killer. Very awkward. And inappropriate.

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Notes:

We're starting on the WinterIron aspect of the story, slowly, step by step. No rushing things here.
Please let me know what you think. The more comments you send me, the sooner I'll add the next chapter ;)
And it's ready to go so it's all up to you, dear readers.

Chapter 7

Summary:

The hearing : James faces his actions as the Winter Soldier.

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Chapter 7

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During the whole trip to New York, James berated himself for his inappropriate thoughts about the son of two of his victims. There was just no possible way for anything to happen with Tony and he would just have to accept it. Kill the hope while it was barely a flicker. 

“Heads up, boss” the driver, Happy Hogan, said as they approached their destination. “You’ve got company.”

Tony leaned forward to gaze outside through the front windshield and swore. “How the fuck are they here already?”

“You know how it is” Hogan replied while James looked. Several people were gathered at the bottom of the tribunal’s stairs. “They’ve got eyes and ears everywhere.”

The billionaire groaned in displeasure. He breathed deeply in and out and then focused on James.

“Press is here. I hadn’t foreseen this since the hearing is not supposed to be held publicly. These journalists must have contacts from inside the tribunal otherwise they wouldn’t be here. Good news is we can go in and not answer any of their questions.”

“And the bad news?”

“We’ll have to after the hearing.” Tony waved a hand in reassurance. “Won’t feed you to the sharks just yet, don’t worry, Snowflake. Not until you feel ready for that kinda thing. No, I’ll do all the talking and power up the charm. Hopefully that’ll be enough for now.”

As soon as the car stopped in front of the tribunal’s entrance, the reporters rushed towards it. Hogan stepped out and went to open the door for them. Following his instructions, James got out after Tony who waved a genial smile at the press. “Sorry, folks. No time for a little chat. We’re expected inside. Catch you guys later.” 

James stood close to the genius as they made their way up the stairs, trying to ignore the group of journalists harassing them for a few words. 

“Mister Stark. Sergeant Barnes was recently accused of attacking a UN facility and is now known to be an assassin for Hydra. How do you justify your presence at his side today?”

“Will you also support Steve Rogers and the other Avengers?”

“Tony, what of the Accords of Sokovia? Are you still supporting them and what they stand for?”

“What do you say to those who believe you broke the Avengers by supporting the Accords?”

“After the Civil War events, do you see a happy reunion for the team? Can you and Captain America still work together?”

“Mister Barnes. You’re about to be trialed for your crimes. What do you have to say for your defense?”

James hurried up the stairs. Air seemed to have vanished from his lungs. He was able to breathe again once inside the building. He had no envy whatsoever to go back out there and would rather face a battalion of Hydra goons instead.

“You okay?” Tony asked gently.

“Swell” he replied, tone dry. “By the way, once we’re done here, I’m not opposed to leaving through the back door.”

Tony chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They met up with Everett Ross and the attorney and in the hall of the tribunal. After a quick small talk, they all entered the judge’s chamber for the closed hearing. James was relieved they didn’t do this in an actual trial courtroom. A woman with a strict outfit and haircut led them in the judge’s office and sat behind a small desk with a typing machine. James became even more nervous when he realized the woman was the court’s clerk and would be typing every single word during the hearing. His attention was distracted with introductions between Judge Williams and every person present. Judge Williams was a tall white man, about sixty years old, grayish hair with a good start on baldness, and a belly betraying his love for greasy food and his dislike for physical exercise. His gaze was sharp despite the softness of his features.

“Please, gentlemen, take your seat and we’ll start.”

As the hearing officially began, James tried not to get distracted by the sound of the clerk typing everything on her machine. The attorney, with help of Everett Ross, reviewed everything with Judge Williams, from charges the prisoner of war was accused of to the investigation and the evidence gathered. The judge had been provided with written support and, while they discussed the various crimes committed as the Winter Soldier, his eyes stopped on a specific name.

“Mister Stark, you were introduced as a moral witness for Sergeant Barnes as well as his legal representative. You can imagine my surprise to find out that Howard and Maria Stark, your parents, were in fact assassinated by the Winter Soldier.”

“Yes, Your Honor. I understand how it can be perceived as unconventional to have the family of victims on the defendant’s side.”

“Would you care to explain your reasons?”

James listened as Tony answered the judge and explained why he defended the man who had strangled his mother and smashed his father’s face to their deaths. As he heard for the second time the man’s earnest words, the Brooklyn soldier found himself incredibly moved by such a show of faith. Such dedication could not be only about guilt over a shredded piece of metal. The length to which Tony went for him was astonishing. If anything, James felt more determined than ever to avoid this man any hurt whatsoever in the future. 

He wanted to protect Tony. No matter what.

“Sergeant Barnes.” The sharp tone forced him to focus on the present time.

“Your Honor?”

“I have here the script of the Starks videotape” Judge Williams said. “Howard Stark recognized you. Did you know each other?”

“Yes, back in the days. Howard joined the front and helped Steve Rogers rescue prisoners that were left behind enemy lines. I was among them. Once we got back, Howard joined the Howling Commandos. Not in combat but as our weapon go-to guy. He repaired our gear when possible and provided us with new ones, had us tested them on the field and improved them. He and I bonded over sniper rifles.”

“And you did not recognize him at all that night?”

James swallowed hard as sorrow and anger filled his chest. “No, I did not. The conditioning erased my memory. I was there and I killed them but I-I wasn’t…” The brainwashed assassin showed his frustration as he battled with himself. “I’ve been trying to find the right words to explain how it felt. The best I can find is me driving a car while being forced to do so. Like a puppet. I was the one acting but there was someone else controlling me with invisible strings. I wasnʼt the one deciding where I went or what I did, someone else did and I…” James inhaled deeply to control the sudden rise of emotions inside him. “I killed a man I knew and respected, and his wife, without the slightest hesitation. Without a shred of pity or compassion. Itʼs only recently, years after their deaths, that I remembered I knew Howard. Out of all the people my handlers had me kill, he was the only one I knew personally. Iʼll never stop feeling guilty for what I did to all of those people, doesnʼt matter that I was brainwashed, but… out of them all, the deaths of Howard and Maria Stark are those I regret the most.”

There. He had said it. That had been more difficult than expected, but James had known he would have to talk about it all. And now that it was done, perhaps the assassin felt a bit better. Lighter. Almost instantly, guilt showed its ugly head and ruined it all. James had killed Tonyʼs parents and so many others, for Godʼs sake. There was no feeling better allowed.

The warm hand on his shoulder that started to feel familiar stopped his internal turmoil. James couldnʼt help relax with the physical contact. Soothing and comforting. And James liked that it was Tonyʼs hand on him and no one elseʼs. James wanted to reach out to him. Mindful of their current surroundings, he didn’t. He satisfied himself with a tight smile to the genius who replied in kind.

The hearing continued and Judge Williams was presented with several pages of the Winter Soldierʼs handbook, translated by a sworn professional. Agent Ross assured he had checked himself the translation had been done properly and left nothing to interpretation. There were a lot of legal terms mentioned, only half of which James understood, but TinkerMan seemed to follow well enough. 

It didn’t take long for the judge to officially declare James not guilty of all charges for acting under physical and psychological duress. His status as prisoner of war was also confirmed which allowed him to touch a military pension, retroactively, thanks to a subtle push from the billionaire. Judge Williams also ordered for mandatory psychological counseling, chosen by the court with the specific instruction to first undo the Winter Soldier programming.

“Your Honor, if I may” Tony intervened. “Will the chosen counselor be given access to every detail of this hearing, evidence included?”

“Yes, of course. Otherwise they won’t be able to assess Sergeant Barnes’s situation and to help him.”

“I’m sorry but given what happened last time Sergeant Barnes went through a psychological evaluation, there’s a legitimate concern whether or not the chosen counselor can be trusted.”

The judge narrowed his gaze in suspicion. “Are you saying there might still be some people working for Hydra out there?”

“There might be” IronMan answered honestly. “We managed to eradicate most of it. Those who remain are most likely unsupported and isolated. But keep in mind that Baron Helmut Zemo is not Hydra. He was out for personal revenge. He decrypted part of the data that was dumped on the internet over two years ago. From there, he got his hands on the handbook from the last known handler, set up Sergeant Barnes for the bombing in Vienna so the authorities would get their hands on him, killed and impersonated the psychologist chosen for the evaluation and managed to trigger the Winter Soldier’s programming while surrounded by law officers.”

Williams pinched his lips in displeasure. The idea that they couldn’t trust their own people was not reassuring. “What do you suggest we do, Mister Stark?”

“In preparation for such concern, I have a list of vouched professionals in the private sector that have worked with victims of brainwashing. You should receive the list on your phone as we speak so you can choose accordingly. I’m offering to pay whatever their fees are.”

Just as Tony finished his sentence, the judge’s phone buzzed. The man reached out for it and opened the newly received message. “And who vouched for them exactly?”

“My AI did, Your Honor. Before you ask, I didn’t see any of whatever she found during her investigation on the candidates. You won’t either. FRIDAY was instructed to delete her findings as soon as sheʼd reach a decision. All you will find in that message is the necessary information for you to make an informed choice, including their contact details if you wish to speak to them directly or to have your people check each of them out.”

Judge Williams asked him a couple more questions and eventually agreed to select someone from the provided list.

As soon as the judge’s attention was taken by Ross and the attorney, James leaned toward the billionaire. “You didn’t have to do that. You might get in trouble.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not in trouble. And I’m only holding my part of the deal we made in the bunker. Nothing more.”

“Which I’m grateful for, Tony. But still. It’s a bit over the top, even for a paranoiac like me. Do you often do things like that?”

“You mean do I often do my utmost to protect people I care about? Yeah, I do. Get used to it, Snowflake.”

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That evening, they celebrated by ordering a pack of beers and three extra large pizzas. James ate two all to himself and pointedly ignored the taunts coming from either Rhodey or Tony. He hadn’t felt famished like that in a while. Now the hearing was done with, a weight had lifted from his chest. That evening, they watched Rocky III and ate popcorn. James couldn’t help but grin as both Tony and Rhodey sang along with the band. He then hid his laugh when the two men made complete fools of themselves as they punched the thin air around them in rhythm with the music, pretending to box along the main character. 

Rhodey barely managed to stay awake until the last minute. Tony put his boneless friend in the wheelchair with ease, earning a surprised look from the super soldier, and wheeled him up to his old bedroom. Because tonight’s celebration was not just about James’s freedom. It was also about Rhodey officially leaving the medical bay for a home environment. The medical staff had left earlier after giving Tony a whole package of instructions to follow to the letter. Tony had initially wanted to hire a help for the everyday things but decided not to do so after a suspicious phone call from a woman called ‘Ma Rhodes’. James didn’t catch all of it, just enough to figure out that Tony ought to take care of Rhodey himself and not confide him to a stranger. The words family and like a brother were used at least three times each in ninety seconds.

“Rhodey’s mother,” Tony had told James after hanging up. “Once, I went to her house to see my buddy, unshaved, shirt half buttoned, traces of oil on my fingers. To this day, I’ve never made the same mistake twice. The woman is fiercely scary!”

As James understood it, Roberta ‘Ma’ Rhodes was unfortunately too old to move across the country to take care of her beloved son. Rhodey’s father passed away some years ago, and so had his sister, Jeanett. Therefore, Tony was the only family the colonel had left around.

When Tony came back from putting his best friend to bed, he sat down on the couch. For a couple of minutes, neither spoke while they finished their beer.

“How’re you doing so far, sugar plum?”

James shrugged. “I haven’t quite wrapped my head around all that’s happened today.”

“Give it time. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow you’ll wake up feeling like a new man.”

“I doubt that.”

“Still lost?”

The now officially war veteran observed him for a moment and then shook his head. “Not as much as before, no. In fact I’m starting to see some possibilities ahead.”

“Please go easy on the optimism. I feel like bursting into song already.” His dry tone had James grin again. “So, tell me. What does the future look like for one James Buchanan Barnes? Do you plan to travel the world and see everything you missed in the past half century?”

“I don’t have a definite plan in mind for now but I’d like to stick around. Find something to keep myself occupied during the day.”

“Sure. There are plenty of job opportunities in town. I might be able to help with that. What are you looking for?”

James hummed as he scrutinized the genius. “Protection seems right up my alley. And I was thinking about working much closer, like next to zero time to commute.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up before frowning, revealing his confusion. “You wanna work here at the compound? I thought you didn’t want to join the A gig.”

His talks with the US Air Force colonel had led the sergeant to consider the fact that he did not owe the Army more than what he had already given. His skills and his dedication to fight the enemy, his loyalty to his country and to his brothers in arms, along with seventy years of his life as a prisoner of war. James struggled daily to deal with his actions as the Winter Soldier. He knew he had a long road ahead to truly accept these words. But at least he now understood and accepted that he was no longer required to fight. The realization had lifted a truly heavy weight off James’ shoulders. 

“You’re right. I don’t.” He let his lips quirk up, showing his amusement at keeping the other man on edge. Tony stared for a moment and threw James an annoyed look when the assassin remained silent.

“I guess I can get you a spot at Security if that-”

“Not security. Protection.”

The genius huffed a laugh. “I don’t see anyone in the current team needing any protection. Expect when sparring with Black Widow of course. Vision’s out obviously. Rhodey, too, for different reasons.” A couple of seconds later, understanding lit up his whiskey brown eyes. “Me?”

“I checked with FRIDAY. You donʼt have a bodyguard.”

“Yeah, cause I don’t need protection.”

“Don’t you? You’re not an active member of the team anymore. So tell me if I’m wrong. You don’t train as much as you used to, you don’t go around with your suit in case an intervention is needed, you don’t watch out for possible danger wherever you go.”

The billionaire pursed his lips in displeasure and rolled his eyes. “Let’s say you’re right. I don’t need to pull the paranoid act ‘cause I’m a lot less present on the front stage these days. Pepper needs more protection. And it’s not like people are out to get me, you know.”

“Tony.” James leaned forward, right elbow on his knee. “You’re the owner and chief engineer of a very wealthy and successful company that used to make weapons and now provides top of the line high-tech products. You’re also IronMan, one of the first Avengers. Just that gets you plenty of attention. Add to that your involvement with the UN to amend the Sokovia Accords and the fact there might be other Helmut Zemo out there.” He let his words sink in a moment. “You need someone to watch your back, especially when you walk out the door. If that’s alright, I would like to do that for you.”

The genius gazed at him in silence. “You don’t owe me anything, James.”

“I told you I don’t agree with that.”

“And I told you we’re even.”

“How can we be even after what I did?”

“I tried to kill you and took your arm.”

“And I killed your parents. Surely you agree the losses are far from being comparable.”

The two men stared at each other, refusing to look away, until Tony’s gaze softened noticeably. James looked down, ashamed to throw those words at the man’s face. Tony leaned forward and gently patted James’s left knee. 

“Listen. I’ve had years to grieve. Despite the shitload of issues Howard left me to deal with, I made my peace with both of their deaths a long time ago. Sure, the wound was rudely reopened thanks to Zemo’s party gift and Steve’s lies, but I’m better now.” He caught the soldier’s gaze with his. “And the last thing I want, James, is for you to sacrifice your new chance at a normal life because you feel indebted to me for my parents’ death.”

“That’s not the reason.” At the man’s doubtful look, James insisted. “That’s not why I offer to protect you. Not entirely at least.”

“Is it ‘cause you’re secretly a stalker of mine and you need an excuse to follow me around?” James recognized the attempt at levity and appreciated it greatly. “If you want my autograph, no need to go to such lengths. Don’t be shy, Snowflake. Just ask.” He kept a straight face despite his rising mirth. “I’ll even throw in a picture of you and your favorite Avenger. Don’t tell me. It’s IronMan, isn’t it? Of course it is. I mean who else could it be. Hawkeye? Black Widow? Mm. They do have pretty cool toys. I know, I made them.”

James shook his head, a genuine smile on the lips. 

“No? Alright. Enlighten me then.”

“Part of me feels I need to protect you. Reasons behind it are a mix between what I saw in you in Siberia, what made me stop the fight over there, and a wish to start making amends for my past actions. But the most important reason is something FRIDAY, Rhodey and especially you have helped me get familiar once again since I got here.” The former sniper turned into a brainwashed soviet spy and assassin looked straight into IronMan’s eyes, displaying his most sincere expression. “It’s because I want to. I know I’m not obligated to watch your back. It is my choice.” 

After a beat, James added. “Provided you agree first of course. Iʼm not gonna force you into anything you donʼt feel comfortable with.”

“Like trusting you with my life?”

“Indeed, that would be a problem if you didn’t trust me. But, despite our circumstances, I’m not too worried about that, TinkerMan.” James threw Tony an accomplice look and was thrilled to see it mirrored. 

“Iʼll admit it’s not the worst idea” Tony said after a moment. “You’ll have to prove your worth though. The executive committee is excessively tough, just so you know.”

James replied confidently. “Donʼt ya worry, doll. I can be a pretty charmin’ fella when I want to.” He smiled broadly at the genius and was rewarded with a small intake of breath and dilated brown eyes.

“Yeah, okay.” Tony cleared his throat, casually leaning back in his seat. “That might work with my Rhodey bear and Happy cause they’re both marshmallow softies inside. But Pepper will see right through that gorgeous smile of yours.”

These words pleased him more than they should. James decided to tease the genius a little. “You think I’m gorgeous?” 

Tony remained speechless, looking kind of flustered. Now this look was the real compliment and spread warmth inside James’s chest. IronMan recovered fast though and used his snark to reply. “Don’t get cocky, Jamesicle. I was complimenting your smile, nothing else.”

“Now you wound me.” Tony rolled his eyes at the obvious attempt to pull his leg again.

“Aaw. You poor little thing. Do you want to lie down while I get you some water and call for an ambulance?”

James chuckled, honestly amused by the other man’s perfectly exaggerated sweet caring tone. “That’s okay. I think I’ll survive.”

After a beat, he went back to the main topic. “Tell me, is Pepper as fierce as Rhodeyʼs mother?”

“About the same Iʼd say. I wouldnʼt be surprised to hear they once were part of the same ‘ball busters/donʼt take any crap from anyone’ club.” He waved the matter away. “Letʼs put a pin on it, at least until we get you fixed up. You canʼt play Kevin Costner without all your limbs.”

“That reminds me, I’ve decided what kind of arm I want.”

His words had Tony stand up straight at once. “Why didn’t you say so before?! Come on. Tell me everything and we’ll get right on it.”

“Now?”

“Don’t pretend you’re not just as much a night owl as I am.” He had a point there. 

James stood up to follow the energized engineer. “Why not. Iʼll have to get used to following around anyway.”

“That’s the spirit!”

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Notes:

I can't tell you how much I've been waiting to publish this one. Hope you really enjoyed this chapter.
As always, please let me know what you think. Kudos are the delicious chocolate ice cream and comments are the wonderful brownie bits that make me hummed in satisfaction :D

Chapter 8

Summary:

1st part: Tony and James in the workshop, teasing and flirting ensured + DUM-E being his adorable self
2nd part: Friday makes a "beginner's mistake", James has feelings, Tony to the rescue

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Chapter 8

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They worked on the final design for an hour or so, then Tony launched calculations to make sure everything was in order. He had never worked with vibranium so he preferred to take extra precautions before sending it to T’Challa’s sister. Meanwhile, James paced around the workshop, being careful not to disrupt anything. Absently, he grabbed a screwdriver and twirled it between his fingers. Watching the genius work on some tech was fascinating. Watching him type on a keyboard while mumbling to himself was less interesting.

“You know what? The Ford won’t get here before a few weeks. In the meantime, I can always make good use of that hand of yours.”

James blinked, trying not to let his mind interpret the man’s words. “Sure. Where do you want me?”

“If you’re game, DUM-E could use a good cleaning. For maintenance purposes.” Seconds later, the robotic arm rolled toward them beeping non-stop.

“Sounds like he’s excited.” James stared at the robot. “Is that it? You’re happy to get cleaned up?”

DUM-E whirled around and beeped widely again. FRIDAY answered for him. “Indeed, Sergeant Barnes. He is excited by the prospect of getting rid of the rust and salt on his mechanical parts. DUM-E says the pivot and gears haven’t properly functioned since his impromptu bath in the ocean.”

“Yeah, I know, buddy. I thought I had it all out. We’re gonna try to fix that before you lose any piece. Be a good boy and fetch the oil. No spilling.” Tony turned to James as the robot rolled away at full speed. “You’re sure about this? It’s gonna take some time and a good load of patience. For some reason he just can’t stay in place when I do some maintenance on him. U’s the same.”

“Yeah, sure. I might as well get myself useful while you’re playing with numbers over there.”

Tony set the soldier up on the station closer to his desk and showed him what to do. James got to it, scrubbing clean part after part, applying anti-rust product and fresh oil where needed. It was slow work with only one hand but he managed on his own.

While he worked, his eyes got their load of Tony Stark’s ingeniosity. James knew the man hadn’t invented robotic arms but he could see how great this creation was. He had seen DUM-E in action in the kitchen and there was an actual artificial intelligence running behind these metallic casing and pistons and wheels. Created by Tony. Touching something so ingenious got James all thrilled inside. 

“Howʼre you doing, Snowflake?”

“All good here. Thereʼs a few hard spots to reach but DUM-E is very cooperative.”

“I noticed” Tony said as he casually leaned next to James on the station. “And how do you manage to make this traitorous unobedient pile of rusty bolts stay still for so long?” James stopped the scrubbing and glanced up at the engineer who failed to hide the fondness behind the remonstrance.

“Maybe your boy here likes me best.”

“Is that so?” The robot replied by a series of excited beeps and James served him with an arrogant smirk, even though he had no idea what the bot had just said. Tony glared at DUM-E and leaned forward. “Ungrateful little scum. Should’ve given you to a city college years ago.”

James would have laughed if DUM-E hadn’t sounded so sad. How could a robot actually communicate emotions like that?! Oh, and also, Tony stood way too close for the sergeant not to notice. In fact, his whole body had noticed, especially his right thigh which was in contact with the manʼs knee. James kept a relaxed face on, his gaze back on DUM-E. 

Tony grabbed a rolling chair which he placed on the other side of the bot. “My first born, betraying me like that. I can’t believe it.” He looked through different parts, touched here and there, and started scrubbing as well. “How come you donʼt behave so well for me, huh?”

“Maybe he gets particularly excited when you work on him” James offered as a more serious explanation. “You created him after all.”

The engineer hummed in response. “How about you, Fri? Dʼyou get all jittery when I update your protocols?”

“My digital knees turn to jello every time you add a new multilayered line of codes, boss.”

Tony barked a laugh. “Sassy girl.”

The two men stayed quiet while working on either side of a very still DUM-E, exchanging a gaze here and there, a wrist brushing a forearm, fingers grazing uncovered skin as they moved around the bot. James tried not to show the tingling effect little touches like these had on him. After all, it was not like Tony was actually flirting with him. The sergeant chased the stupid idea out of his head and focused on his task.

Minutes later, Tony came closer to the main mechanical pivot on which James had been diligently working.

“See those platforms behind the rotator? That’s where the problem is. I’ll show you.” He reached for the first object nearby and held it out in front of the bot. “Buddy, grab that jemmy for me.” He motioned for James to get closer to the claw holding the tool. They were face to face, a few inches apart. “Rotate 180 degrees counterclockwise.” The robotic arm performed the required rotation under the scrutiny of two pairs of watchful eyes that didnʼt miss the slight tremors running along the jemmy. 

“Again” instructed the mechanic. The tremors grew a bit stronger before stopping. 

“Couldn’t it be a hitch with claws?” James offered as he inspected the three hooks holding the tool.

Tony shook his head. “Tremors are present whether or not he’s holding something so it’s got nothing to do with the weight on the claws either. There are no tremors with horizontal or lateral movements. Only rotational. Now watch this. DUM-E, give me a full 360.”

James didn’t leave the jemmy of his gaze as it turned on itself. Soon, he noticed something odd. “It’s different. Some tremors arrive later than before.”

Tony sent him an appreciative glance. “Well spotted, Sergeant. Turns out there are tiny grains of sand and probably salt between the gear platforms. I haven’t been able to entirely remove them since I pulled DUM-E out of the ocean, which was over three years ago. The oil is what’s making the grains move around with rotations, keeping suspense on where and when tremors will happen.”

From this, James figured out that no effort would allow them to clean off the sand. He changes tactics immediately. “Okay. Why don’t you simply change that whole part for a sand-free shiny new one?”

The genius gasped, apparently shocked by the suggestion. “How can you suggest such a thing?! Okay, he gets it wrong half the time, spills my stuff and spikes my smoothies with motor oil, but he’s my first born! No way I’m pulling any of his limbs off.”

James was split between pointing out the irony of the situation and laughing at the overly exaggerated reaction. He decided on rolling his eyes at the ridiculously adorable man. “It’s not like he’s gonna feel anything. Besides, if DUM-E is so dear to your heart, shouldn’t you make sure he’s at the top of his capacities?”

“But I like how he is now, quirks and all.”

“Huh. I didn’t picture you to be the nostalgic kind.”

The genius frowned at that. “Usually I’m not. But every rule has its exceptions.”

James went on. “Okay. But will you like those quirks so much when he can’t grab something you need because of all that sand and salt?” Tony pouted and James knew he had nearly convinced him.

The robot made a sudden whirring sound. “Boss, DUM-E seems to be worried at the idea of being left without any limb. He wishes to remind you that his purpose is to help you in the workshop and that a mechanical hand is a necessity to do so.”

“Don’t you worry, littl’fella,” the sergeant quickly intervened. “Your daddy’s making me a new arm. He can make you a new hand, too, I’m sure.” He patted DUM-E’s head and then turned to give Tony a winning grin.

“All right. I know when I’m beat” the genius admitted reluctantly with a sigh. “Three against one isn’t fair by the way.”

James huffed a laugh. “Great. I can focus on something more achievable” he said as he looked for more rust to remove. “How did he end up in the ocean anyway?”

“A terrorist blew up the house in Malibu after I gave him my home address on television.”

The sergeant blinked once, twice before managing to breathe in. “Why would you do that?” His guts tightened in apprehension. Somehow, James already knew the billionaire was the kind of person who just did whatever he wanted, disregarding entirely his own safety if the goal was important enough.

“They’d nearly killed my Happy. Couldn’t let that go.” 

FRIDAY announced her calculations were finished and the genius left the station.

James heaved a deep sigh. Protecting Tony Stark might be more challenging than he had initially estimated. 

 

<<~>> <<~>> <<~>> <<~>> <<~>> <<~>>

 

The following day, Tony handed James a shiny new phone, Stark brand of course, with everything he could ever need and more. He started to refuse the generous gift and Tony waved his complaints away. Turned out the engineer had already heard back from Princess Shuri - he had sent over the final design last night - and the Wakandian princess had questions she wished to ask James privately. 

Princess Shuri’s contact information had already been added, as well as those of Tony, Rhodey, and the infamous Pepper Potts office in case of a necessity. More contacts would be added at a later time, especially if the sergeant became in charge of Tony’s protection.

James went to the lounge on the third floor and settled on the couch surrounded by a couple of small bookshelves, large cushions on the floor and small ones around him. With wooden surfaces everywhere and soft lighting, the small room felt warm and intimate. It had become his usual spot when he wanted some quiet and alone time. 

The shiny new phone in hand, James opened the contact list, scrolled down to find Shuri’s name and noticed two unknown names in addition to the previously mentioned.

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Can you tell me who Kimberly and Scott Proctor are? They’re in my contact list.”

“They are your grandniece and grandnephew” the AI replied without hesitation. “Mister Stark asked me the other day to look for your remaining kin. I could only find direct numbers for Kimberly and Scott Proctor, your sister’s grandchildren. I took the liberty to add them to your contacts.”

Everything froze.

Rebecca. His sister. His baby sister. Her grandchildren.

How could that be?! Rebecca had been so young when James had left for war. And now she was a grandmother? It meant she had had children. Children who had their own children. 

Something prodded on the edge of his consciousness. Something that James had struggled not to think about for the past week. But now it grew bolder, more concrete and James couldn’t pretend the thought wasn’t there. He heard FRIDAY in the background and ignored her. He didn’t want to know more. He didn’t want to confirm what he already suspected. If no one told him, it remained unsure. Unknown. The sergeant flopped down on the couch on his left side, head on a cushion, and covered his right ear with his hand. There. He would stay like this for as long as necessary. This way, Rebecca stayed exactly as he remembered her. 

Despite his position, James still heard the ding of the elevator doors opening in the hallway. Stupid super soldier serum. Tony’s voice reached him, too. The man sounded like he was arguing with someone. James raised his right hand just enough to get what was going on.

“... not happy, Fri. I told you not to broach the matter with him. What d’you think was going to happen when you put those contacts in? That he’d just ignore them and not get curious?”

“I’m sorry, boss. I honestly didn’t consider it possible for Sergeant Barnes to react this way.”

“That’s normal, baby girl, you’re still learning about human behavior. It’s gonna take time for you to figure it out. In the meantime, follow my instructions, and I’ll try to give you more perspectives in the future.”

Seconds later, TinkerMan entered the lounge and James returned to ‘not hear’ anything. From the corner of his eyes, James saw Tony observe him for a minute. With a foot, he slid a cushion closer, sat on it, his back against the couch, not too far from James’s head, and focused his attention on the tablet in his hands. For about ten minutes, James managed to pretend he was not behaving like a child. That time was spent in silence except for Tony’s gentle tap-tap on the screen. The man was always working on something. There was no avoiding it. 

Eventually, James realized that no matter how long he stayed in the dark it wouldn’t change anything to what had happened to his sister. And so, with a heavy heart, he let his right hand fall next to Tony’s shoulder. Thankfully, Tony didn’t point out how silly he behaved. No, he didn’t say anything and stayed there, patiently waiting for James to speak first.

“Did she…” He tightened his fingers on the cushion. “Did she have a good life?”

“Looks like it, yeah.” Tony’s quiet words brought him both grief and relief. “Right after the war, she married a guy named Henry Proctor who, according to FRIDAY’s findings, was in the same high school as you, two years your junior. Maybe you remember the guy who stole your sister’s heart?”

“Hang on. I think I remember a Proctor in high school. A small specky boy, nose always in books. Scrawny, too. Couldn’t walk two steps without falling down. Never liked him,” he added with an unhappy glare. 

The genius huffed a laugh. “Had you been around to play the fiercely protective big brother, I bet you’d have terrified any of your sister’s suitors to make sure they’d behave themselves.”

“Damn right.”

“Donʼt worry, though. Nerdy Henry was up to the task” Tony went on, flipping the page of his tablet. “He grew out of his awkward skin, worked, gained experience, built his own business in marketing, sold it years later and then turned to teaching. He and Rebecca had two boys, Robert James and Thomas Buchanan Proctor, and it looks like the family never knew hunger or poverty.”

James’s chest filled with emotions as he heard the names of his nephews. 

“FRIDAY wasnʼt able to find much specifically on your sisterʼs life except for an article in 1953 featuring one Rebecca Helen Proctor winning a local bakery contest. Here, look.” Tony held out the tablet for him to see. “She was definitely happy.”

Raising his head a little, his gaze ran through the grainy picture and instantly he recognized one of the two women as his younger sister. Tony was right, Rebecca looked so proud and displayed a large giddy smile, the same contagious smile she had after doing something particularly tough. James felt his own lips rise up just looking at her.

“Look behind her.”

James did as told and found behind Rebecca’s head the venture of a boutique on which was written in big ‘Becca’s finests’. His gaze widened as realization came. 

“She did it” he sighed in disbelief. “She got her own shop. She did it!” Laughter burst through his lips while his chest filled with warmth and pride. Ignoring the prickling sensation in his eyes, James spoke as he remembered. “Becca always said one day she’d have her own shop just so she could make me eat something else than the same plum pies.” He laughed once more. “When I argued I could always go into someone else’s bakery, Becca made me swear I’d always get my pies from her shop or else she’d never bake mom’s plum pie for me ever again.”

“Sounds like sweet baby sis’ Becca perfectly understood the concepts of leverage and extortion.”

“Yeah. There wasn’t much she couldn’t get once her mind was made up.” Without thought, James wiped the tears that had rolled down on his cheeks. He laid his head back onto the cushion. “What else you got?”

Tony brought the tablet back before him and read from FRIDAY’s findings. “Her name shows up in 1966 in an article about a home for war veterans in Brooklyn. She was a regular and brought them food, clothes and fresh linen, stuff like that.” James smiled, recognizing the mother-henning tendencies of her beloved sister. “Also, I now realize your sister and I shared the spotlight in October 2012. We were both mentioned in a press release from the Smithsonian about the exhibit on Captain America and the Howlies. They reached out to me a couple months after Steve was defrosted. I assume they did the same with Rebecca or her family. She gave them your letters, along with whatever belongings got sent back to her after your presumed death in 45.”

“My letters?” He didn’t recall seeing any letters when he visited the museum.

Tony looked up at him. “Yeah. You know, those you sent to her during the war. They’re on display at the Smithsonian.” 

James grimaced at the idea of complete strangers reading the content of those letters. They were private and for Becca’s eyes only. 

“If you want, you can get them back” Tony offered, correctly interpreting his reaction. 

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. They might whine a little but it’s your correspondence with your sister. You have every right to get those letters back. I’ll ask Pepper to reach out to the curator. She’s better at this kind of stuff.”

“I think I received a couple letters from Becca when I was over there. Do you think they have them too?”

“Don’t know. We’ll check and get them back as well.”

James heaved a deep sigh in relief. “Thank you, Tony.”

“You’re welcome, Snowflake.” Tony swiped the screen before him, angling the tablet so James couldn’t see, and then cleared his throat. “Are you ready to hear the rest?”

The subtle change in the man’s tone along with his expressive brown eyes let James know he was about to find out the very thing he wanted selfishly to ignore. But he couldn’t stop now either. He already knew his sister was gone.

And so, with a jerky nod from the soldier, Tony proceeded with gentleness and let him know about his family. Thomas Buchanan Proctor, born in 1948, joined the ranks early and died in 1972 in Viet-Nam. Henry Walter Proctor, born in 1918, died from a heart attack in 2001. Rebecca Helen Proctor nee Barnes in 1920 passed on in March 2013 from a lung disease. Robert James Proctor, born in 1946, was still alive and the father of Kimberly, born in 1975, and Scott, born in 1979. Both grandchildren had built their respective family, making James a great-great-uncle multiple times. 

By the end of it, James felt like he wasnʼt there anymore. He floated in a cotton-like haze of grief, numb to everything around him. The only concrete enough sensation he could focus on was the rough yet warm touch of Tony’s hand in his. He wasn’t sure who had reached out first and he didn’t care. This hand was his sole anchor while his mind drowned in a swirl of names and dates and bits of life lost to him. When said hand squeezed his own, thumb lightly caressing his knuckles, James slowly started to get a hold of himself, pushing away for now all the thoughts about his sister losing one of her children to another war.

“Sorry” he eventually said in a rough voice.

“Not sure what you’re apologizing for” Tony replied in a quiet voice, not letting go of his hand. “You’re entitled to have emotions, whichever they are. Remember?”

James gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand in return. “Thanks.” For staying with him. For being his anchor through grief.

The two men stared at each other in silence for a moment, taking strength from their intimate bond.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Tony asked, his gorgeous brown eyes betraying his worry.

“Yeah” James replied with a nod. “Eventually.”

“You sure?”

He nodded again and gave another soft smile meant to bring comfort to the billionaire. His fingers moved over Tony’s hand on their own accords, caressing the warm skin in reassurance. 

“Okay” Tony accepted with his own smile. “But just to make sure, I need to tell you something like right now. Can I? Cause, if I don’t, I might go stir crazy.” His face got all serious and, in retrospect, it should’ve been a major indicator.

“Go ahead.”

“Becca,” the genius started, mirth already breaking through his composure, “and Bucky ? How adorable.” 

James stared at the man for two whole seconds before letting out a groan in mixed resignation and embarrassment. “You gotta be kiddin’.”

“I mean it, really. It’s too cute to pass up. Becca and Bucky, BFF. I hear those two nicknames and suddenly I feel like bursting into song.”

“Please don’t.”

Too late. Tony was already off. “Becca and Bucky, running around a tree. P.L.A.Y.I.N.G.”

Hiding behind his hand, the war veteran groaned again. He attempted to ignore the man’s joyful teasing tone in order to keep his usual broody persona. But then, Rebeccaʼs voice echoed in his head in an almost identical silly tune that Tony sang once more. She had teased James and Steve many times with the original lyrics, thus rendering the future Captain America all flustered with embarrassment. The souvenir of his sister’s giggling laughter made James chuckle. 

Although he made sure to display a straight face when he lowered his hand. “Are you done?” he asked in a dry tone.

“Come on, Snowflake. You have to admit” Tony insisted once more. “Your two names put together are just perfect. And really sweet. So sweet that if I take a picture and dip it into my coffee, it’ll turn into icecream.” 

The sergeant rolled his eyes, refusing to smile. 

“How about so sweet it could melt the arctic. Not that we want that to happen. The planet’s environment is fucked enough as it is. But Becca and Bucky definitely could do it.” 

James responded with an unimpressed cold look, still hiding his growing mirth. 

“Huh. Tough crowd. Okay, here’s another one. It’s so sweet that it would turn Steve’s shield back to vibranium atoms.” 

A traitorous grin appeared on his mouth which spurred Tony on. 

“Aha! I knew you’d like that one. It’s so sweet that you could’ve attacked Red Skull with one verse of ‘Becca and Bucky’s best day ever’ and his cold heart and way too literal red skull would’ve melted down.” 

James snorted with a grimace. “Ew. That’s gross.”

“It is but you’d have put an end to the war at the same time. Just with the fudgy awesome power of sweet Becca and Bucky.”

“Now we’re fudge?” 

Tony lightly tapped his chest with the back of his hand. “What do you think I’ve been trying to tell you for the past hour? Nobody can resist fudge. It’s just too good. Best dessert topping ever. Beats everything else. Case closed. I win.” 

James noted the information in the corner of his mind for his next homemade dessert he’d make. Also he couldn’t help being amused by the man’s eccentricities. Tony had a way to win people over with his over-the-top caring attitude. It was well hidden behind his overbearing, unbothered, ‘I do what I want’ personality traits. But deep down, the genius truly cared.

Which reminded him of the reason for the distraction.

“I’m gonna be alright, Tony,” James repeated with more conviction this time. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Tony’s brown eyes scrutinized his face, searching for a trace of deception or doubt. When he found none, he nodded. “Okay.” He unfolded his limbs, bones cracking at the same time, and stood up. His worry was still visible. “You know you’re welcome in the workshop, right? Doorʼs always open.” 

The smile that appeared on James’s face was a hundred percent genuine. “I do now. Thanks, TinkerMan.”

 

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Notes:

As a reminder, I did research James Barnes's past throughout available fandoms (Comics, MCU) and found many variations; so what you get is what I encountered most often. But I imagined/invented a good bunch from scratch. I hope it all makes sense to you and that I haven't messed up the historical part.

I really hope you appreciate this chapter. I rarely saw it developed in length in other fics and I wanted to do justice to James's feelings and his memories of his sister.

Please let me know what you think. Thanks :)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Things you make me feel