Chapter Text
The Объект doesn't feel anything. It obeys, it does nothing but obey. Yet here it was, laying on the floor of an old dilapidated barn in the middle of Ukraine. It had failed its mission, it did not kill the man on the bridge, its Обработчик is dead, its командир is dead, its капитан is dead. For the first time in its life it wants.
The Объект wanted to get rid of these damn flashes. They hurt its head, its body aches, it felt cold all over. The cold wasn't right though, it wasn't cold from the snow outside it felt practically frozen because of the fever it was running. Hydra had been right, with out its medication the Объект was going to die. They told it a long time ago, the medicine kept his body from boiling itself to death. Currently it did not have its medicine, it hasn't had it in about 3 weeks now.
It couldn't move, it was going to die here. It was going to die in this falling apart barn, not in a fight, not due to a test or punishment. No, it was a bad Объект it didn't deserve to die with dignity.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
When the Объект opened its eyes again it hadn't even realized they had closed. Its skin felt like it was on fire, like its skin was peeling from its muscles and its muscles from its bones. The pain was the worst thing it had felt in a long while, not even Rumlow hurt it this bad.
It couldn't tell what was going on, there was a pressure on its chest. Had its eyes ever opened? It couldn't see anything. Has it gone blind? It might have, it was melting from the inside out after all.
It needed its medications, it couldn't get them though, Hydra has fallen. Hydra gave it its medicine, Hydra took care of it. It was starting to see that clearly now. They told it all the time, told it that they took care of it, that it couldn't survive on its own for very long.
Its eyes opened, they did and it knew they did this time because suddenly it was very very bright. Its arm moved on its own accord, smacking the bright light out of its face. A hand on its arm, it could feel the solid pressure of it but the sensors in the metal arm were starting to give out. It had no maintenance.
Though if the pressure was anything to go by, it was Rumlow. He was the only man he'd met ballsy enough to grab the metal arm when it lashed out. Though it couldn't see anything again. Its eyes had closed again since nothing was holding them open anymore.
Rumlow was here, it could relax. It was back with Hydra. They would give it the medicine, they would wait for it to get better then they would punish it. Likely a beating, it could handle that. A punishment then it would receive proper maintenance, the arm would be fixed and they would wipe his mind, cryo freeze. It wanted all of that. It wanted this pain to go away. The Объект had been bad, it knew this now, it knew Hydra was only helping. Taking care of it. It slumped into the bed under it, Rumlow was here, its командир won't let them fuck this up. He loved it.
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Brock knew what he was doing was wrong, he didn't care though. Hydra didn't care either, not as long as they didn't know he did really care for the Asset. The Солдат was good at its job, the best at it, its job being whatever it was told to do. It was a good puppy. Hydra was cold to the Солдат , he knew that, he wasn't any different, he was cold and mean. Though there were times, like right now where he wasn't.
Brock had the Солдат naked laid out on a bed in some safe house in the middle of nowhere Utah.
“Good, puppy.” Brock praised just to see it shudder.
Brock was sure he had the Объект wrapped around his finger tighter than the Pierce did.
Brock kissed and licked and bit at the Солдат s skin. It laid there still, it let him do whatever he wanted. Brock moved off of the Asset,
“Come here.” He said in a low soft voice, the Солдат complied with ease, slowly but not cautiously crawling up Rumlow's body.
Brock gently pulled the Солдат into a deep kiss. The Солдат kissed back, slow and sloppy like it hasn't kissed someone back in years. The Солдат was always quiet at first, it took a little bit of work to get the noises to start flowing from his lips.
“You know what I want, puppy. Be a good dog now and I'll give you a little treat.” Brock said, thumb brushing the Солдат 's bottom lip.
The Солдат leans into his touch, gently nips before sucking on his thumb. Brock groans softly, “yeah, that. Now you get that mouth where I want it.” He said his voice was a little rougher now.
The Объект slowly worked down Rumlow's body.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
The hands on it were cold and gloved. It knew there was a lot wrong with it right now. The Объект required a lot of maintenance, the fight on the helicarrier was rough on its body and now it hadn't had its medicine. It needed its medications.
Its knuckles connected with something solid and warm before it could open its eyes, once its sticky eyes opened his vision was foggy but there was a distinct lack of Rumlow.
Arms wrapped around it tightly, the Объект tried to blink its vision clear but it was hard to open its eyes again once they closed.
“Hey,” the voice was soft and familiar, “lay back down, it's ok, it's ok.” the voice was saying to the Объект, slowly pushing it back down to the bed.
Its eyes finally opened again, looking up at the man speaking, it bolted up right again. The man, it was him, its target. It doesn't do anything, it couldn't even if it tried. The target was too fast, too strong, too durable for the Объект to engage in combat.
“You're ok.” The man spoke softly, “I know you don't know what's going on. It's ok though, you're ok. I'm gonna get you fixed up.” The man said gently, placing one hand on the back of the солдаты neck and one on its chest.
He slowly laid the Объект down again. The Объект could see the gloves on the man's hands and the red mark forming on his cheek. There was no one else around, it was stuck in a run down, kind of suspicious, looking motel room with a known target. It had to do something about this problem and yet it couldn't move. Its limbs felt like they were full of lead.
“I know. I know.” The man, Rogers?... yeah his name was Rogers the Объект remembered, said as if he was able to read its thoughts.
“You don't know me, but I know you. I know you don't like this situation but it's gonna have to do for now. I wasn't going to leave you out there to rot.” Rogers said, his hands haven't left its body.
It looked down, the Объект was shocked to see the state of its own body. The skin on his human hand had started to blacken along with the tips of its toes, there were chunks of flesh missing like something or more likely several somethings had been eating it. It was rotting from the outside while still alive. Any normal person would have been dead, long dead, his super soldier serum had kept him alive but it was clear it was finally going to die.
The Объект was in the hands of the enemy, no means of fighting, it could hardly move, even its blinks sluggish. Rogers was cleaning it, tending to the wounds.
It didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. Hydra had warned it, told it about Rogers and the mind games he would pull.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Steve expected it to take much much longer to find Bucky than it had. Three months, only one of which he had been able to look properly. The first of the three months had been spent recovering physically and mentally, well as much as he could that is. The second was a lot of press for the Avengers, the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D was a big deal and has left the world scared and distrusting. The third, was spent in Russia where Rumlow had told them The Winter Солдат would have gone. A home base, it has all the equipment to tend to the Солдат , to tend to Bucky.
Bucky hadn't been there. Of course he hadn't, the Russian government had raided the place, gutted everything. A scary thought that could be dealt with later.
No, finding Bucky had been by complete accident. At that particular moment in time Steve was looking for one of Natasha's contacts when he had to pull off the road to sleep. Luckily he had taken his car and not his bike. He was there, on the cold ground of some abandoned barn in the middle of bum fuck Ukraine.
Steve froze a few feet away. He looked dead. Fingers and toes turning black, he was thin, covered in dust like he had been laying here for the whole three months. Massive chunks were taken out of him like rats had gotten to his corpse. However as Steve took a few steps closer the rattle of Bucky's breath could be heard.
The dread lifted from his chest was replaced by an overwhelming feeling of concern and protectiveness.
“Bucky?” Steve said crouching down, he checked Bucky's pulse, weak but there.
The other man hadn't responded, despite the pulse and breathing Steve thought he was dead. Thought that maybe his mind just convinced itself that Bucky was still alive. But no, he was alive. Opening slightly and closing quickly a few times, his eyes even seemed to roll back.
The next three hours were probably the most stressful in his entire life. Gently peeling Bucky from the floor and wall. It was disgusting but Steve didn't care, he didn't even think about it. He just got Bucky into his arms and loaded him into the back of his car. He drove to the closest motel one and a half hour away then immediately called Dr. Cho, he laid Bucky down on the bed inside.
Not much is known about Bucky's biology, he has the super soldier serum but it was different from Steve's own serum. Cho walked Steve through cleaning the wounds.
Steve hadn't expected Bucky to wake up, not ever, let alone so soon. A metal fist collided with his cheek and the only thing he could think at that moment was, ‘thank God, he's awake.’ no fear for his safety, no fear of the possibility of fighting Bucky while he was in this state. No, just pure relief.
He couldn't help but hug the other man. Steve pulled him into a hug tightly for just a moment before realizing he needed to lay Bucky back down.
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The Солдат woke up again and didn't recognize where it was at first. A car, the backseat laying down across the seats. Its body still ached, every inch of it hurt worse than its ever hurt before and the Объект has hurt a lot in its life. It tried to sit up but every muscle in its body refused to cooperate.
The Объект was forced by its own body to just lay there. Soon the car door opened and Rogers crouched into the backseat closing the door, it was a tight squeeze but he managed it somehow. The Солдат looked at the man confused, Rogers doesn't say anything, just opens a box of zip lock bags that was on the floor and opens a bag of ice that the Объект had not seen him bring into the car. It laid there confused waiting for something, some kind of explanation or action.
Rogers filled the bags with ice and started to tuck them around the Объект. Under its neck, shoulders, at its sides, under its knees, between its thighs, and under its ankles.
“I know it's cold, we have to get that fever down somehow and this is all we have right now.” Rogers finally spoke.
It doesn't speak, what was the Объект supposed to say? It was not trained for this situation, it did not have a protocol to fall back on besides trying to get back to a Hydra base.
“In two hours I'll need to change your bandages. We're staying here at this rest stop until morning, your fever is too high.” Rogers said he was speaking professionally like a обработчик would explain maintenance before it happened.
“Until then I need you to drink some of this, nice and slow, I know it's probably going to make your stomach sick but you need fluids.” Rogers gently lifted its head up while he explained.
A bottle of a blue liquid was pressed to its lips and it had no choice but to drink some. It didn't want any, the Солдат was not permitted any substance if not given to it by its обработчик or командир but it had to drink or it would have choked.
The liquid was so sweet it hurt its teeth and tongue almost immediately. It must have made a face because Rogers looked at it sympathetically,
“I know, it's sweet.” He said taking the bottle away and setting it down on the floor of the car.
The car swayed slightly, wind howling horribly outside. The Объект looked out the window, it could not see anything out it but a white sheet of thickly falling snow. It was not safe to drive in these conditions, especially not in the little car Rogers had them both crammed into somehow.
The snow was good though, meaning no one would be able to see it through the windows. The situation was bad enough, caught by the enemy, a known target, it didn't need to get caught by the authorities as well.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Steve drove for twenty four hours straight to try and get Bucky to this safe house, Natasha had asked Tony to send much more security features to the house. Drones and what not, Steve would have to look at later. Cho had promised plenty of medical supplies and detailed instructions on everything. The weather made it unsafe for any travel at all, damn near zero visibility on the roads maybe 20% for Steve.
Bucky had woken up twice, one of which he hadn't even really been awake but he wasn't really asleep either it was weird. Like his brain couldn't comprehend anything at all.
Twenty four hours of driving, stopping every hour to change out the ice bags around Bucky to keep the fever down and every two stops he would change Bucky's bandages. They were so horribly infected. Hell Steve had to pick maggots out of two of them.
Bucky should be dead, on one hand Steve couldn't be happier that Bucky wasn't dead but on the other he should be. This kind of suffering Steve would only wish upon the men that had done this to Bucky.
Finally though, finally after 48 or something similar to that, hours of grueling travel, Steve finally got to this safe house.
Bucky's eyes fluttered open as Steve was gently picking him up out of the backseat. It had taken four hours of digging in the snow to clear a path from the car to the door, it only takes this long because Steve was frankly fucking exhausted.
A deep seated exhausted that he hadn't thought he would ever feel after getting the serum.
Bucky looks up at him, “ugh.” He tried to speak but all that came out was a sound of pain.
“I know, I know. Going inside now, then I won't move you around so much.” Steve snapped, he didn't mean to but the stress, anxiety, and exhaustion were getting to him.
Steve feels guilt eat him alive from the inside out the moment Bucky seems to relax at the harsh tone.
“Rum” Bucky mumbled before his eyes closed.
“You don't need any alcohol right now.” Steve says.
Bucky was disgusting right now, he was covered in his own waste and infected wounds, he smelt awful. Giving him a proper bath wasn't really in the cards right now though. Steve knows this, he does however peel Bucky's completely ruined clothes off of him once he laid the man down in a bed.
The safe house was nice, two bedrooms, an open plan living room, kitchen, and dining area. It has a nice fireplace but not enough wood and considering the weather outside bringing any inside would most likely be a waste.
Steve doesn't explore, not yet he has more pressing things to do. He finds the boxes of medical supplies that Dr.Cho had sent. There were ten of them, three of them were just full of bandages, one was full of disinfectant, and one was full of various antibiotics. The other five had various other things in them, one had an IV kit and bags of saline and three fairly sized bottles of a really strong pain killer. Steve doesn't bother looking through the rest of them right now, he grabs the IV box and takes it into the room Bucky was in.
“Hey, Buck. You're ok. I'm gonna get you all fixed up.” Steve spoke to Bucky softly with such care despite the fact the other man was laying unconscious on the bed.
Steve reads the IV instructions very carefully, he reads it over and over probably five or six times before he sets the packet of paper down.
Steve was careful and slow about the whole process, finding a good vein took a while, getting the needle into the vein took almost just as long. It takes maybe 20 minutes for Steve to get the IV in place and hook up a bag. Once it was done Steve went back out to the medical boxes, he found a box full of wet wipes and other various things that hadn't really fit any other box.
He takes his time gently wiping as much of the grime and crusted up fluids away as possible. Bucky's skin was red and irritated, a pretty bad rash on his thighs and butt.
It's at this point that Steve moves all of the boxes of medical supplies into the room so he doesn't have to walk back and forth.
“I'm sorry. You deserve better care than this.” Steve whispers, mostly to himself than to the unconscious Bucky on the bed.
In the same box the wipes had come from Steve finds a rash ointment, he spends a while rubbing it gently into the rash and irritated skin.
For right now Bucky's fever has been within an acceptable range, not by much but still acceptable for the time being.
“Stay here, ok. I'm gonna go put some stuff in the freezer.” Steve says and he grabs the reusable ice packs from the box they were in and walks to the freezer.
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The Солдат woke up alone in a room, body unable to move. It just wouldn't move no matter how hard it tried to move. Every single inch of its body hurts and burns with a pain that just wouldn't ease. It has an IV bad in its hand and yet it hadn't been given its medication. Rumlow had it now, it heard his voice angry and annoyed Rumlow. Mad at it for getting hurt and caught but he cares for the Объект so it won't get too in trouble with the man.
Well at least not yet. Not until it was in proper health.
The Объект could hear Runlow talking to someone but it couldn't make out the conversation.
“Командир! Я проснулся и готов к дисциплинарному взысканию, сэр!” its voice was much weaker than the Солдат had been hoping for.《“Commander! I'm awake, I'm ready for disciplinary action, sir!》
It had been heard though, as the conversation seemed to end, it hadn't thought, it was hard to think with all the pain. Rumlow was talking with someone, it had interrupted, the Солдат knows better than that.
A man walks in, not just a man. The Captain, its mission. The Солдат looked away. It wanted Hydra, it wants Rumlow. They would fix it, they would give it measured pain only when it needs it. The pain wouldn't be like this, this was far worse than the pain of losing its arm, a pain it hardly remembered but it doubts it could ever forget this pain.
Some parts of it were just aching softly, some tingled and felt like a thousand needles were poking it, it felt fire in its veins, cuts all over, bruises too. Its arm was still out of socket from the fight on the helicarrier. Its head felt like it was actively exploding while also just building up pressure behind its eyes.
A gentle hand on its forearm caused the Объект to look up at Rogers again.
“Buck, no one is going to punish you. You've done nothing wrong, Soldier.” the Captain says firmly, like an order would come. This man is not its Обработчик .
“I'm going to clean your wounds again, it seems like your fever has somewhat stabilized but still hasn't broken though.” Rogers explained.
It does not understand why it needed an explanation. It's not like it hasn't a choice in this matter, not until its body had enough strength to move and in which case it would kill Rogers. It should have listened to its Обработчик when it had the chance the first time, Pierce had never done it wrong before. The flashes hurt and it wants them gone.
“Also, I'm finally going to pop this shoulder back into place. I've been neglecting it, I just… I don't know Bucky.” Rogers sighs softly, "I'm sorry, you deserve better care than this. No one can get out to us yet, hell the drones that brought the packages had a hell of a time. We did too.” Rogers just doesn't stop talking.
The Солдат has realized that its toes were no longer a dark black, being a more purple color now. Its hand wasn't any better though, fingers still black. In fact it looks almost worse but it couldn't be sure given it just doesn't remember very well.
Rogers helped the Солдат sit up, still talking now it was just about something it wasn't even about the Солдат or really too the Объект at all.
“Alright, Alright.” The Captain says softly like he was trying to gather his strength. He couldn't bring himself to really touch its arm. He was the one to dislocate it, he must like the way it looks on the Солдат.
The Объект could hardly sit up even after being put into this sitting position, Rogers pulls it to lean into his chest. The Солдат can’t fight this, it doesn't want to be sitting like this. Though Rogers' skin is cold, that was kinda nice.
The hands on its arm and shoulder were calloused but they were gentle in a way the Объект wasn't used too.
“OK, deep breath.” Rogers said it feels like he was talking more to himself again. Not that the Солдат minded, it didn't want to be spoken too.
The Объект doesn't flinch, doesn't yelp, scream, gasp, jerk, or anything really as its shoulder was snapped back into place. It could be because it is so used to pain that it has grown accustomed to it but there was a chance that it was the lack of blood flow to that arm. It was all tingly like a thousand needles poking it just enough to be known but not quite hurt.