Chapter Text
He was born of blood and sorrow.
‘Born’ was perhaps inaccurate, it was more of a sudden existence.
He wasn’t then suddenly he was.
There was a horrendous sound as if someone was losing something precious to them. He could hear it, feel the agony of loss and despair.
Something was pulling, tugging at his side, a horrible grinding and cracking.
“No please…no more…”
A voice? Did he know the voice, was it his voice?
No…it was his voice.
There was another tug, a high-pitched scream…then nothing.
He was alone.
Only not truly alone, he could still feel him, could hear him, sobbing and pleading somewhere distant. He opened his eyes for the first time, the overhead light harsh and merciless.
He could smell rust …blood….and fear.
The high-pitched whine continued and he could feel the insistent pull, it was an annoyance more than anything now. He turned to the source of the movement, it was a man in a blood-splattered surgical mask, a saw in hand. He looked at the man then down at his shoulder a mass of bloody tissue and sinew.
The noise abruptly stopped as the man blinked at him from above the mask, "What?" a voice growled from somewhere else.
The one standing at his shoulder was looking at him now, hesitant and unsure.
He stared back unblinking.
“Something’s changed,” the man spoke, voice muffled behind his bloody barrier.
The other voice was irritated, “Who cares, finish this before he bleeds to death.”
He watched unmoving as the saw began again and they went back at his shoulder.
The weeping in his head continued.
-#-#-#-
What are you?
He paused, shifting slightly in his crouched position, frowning at the voice in his head.
He felt a wash of confusion, not his own, as he mulled over the question; what was he?
Sorry, who are you?
The voice spoke again, but the confusion remained, “I am me?” He spoke barely above a whisper, unsure even as he said the words.
He got a feeling of humour and exasperation.
Well, I know that, but why are you…here?
He didn't have an answer for that, didn't know how to reply to the question. He wasn't sure why he was here. His confusion edged into desperation before there was a sense of calm that pushed hesitatingly back.
Sorry I didn’t mean to upset you…I just, it’s odd having someone else, in here with me.
He agreed with that still unmoving, eyes sighting through the scope as he patiently waited untouched by the cold.
It's not bad… I mean it's less lonely than before. It's nice to have someone else.
There was a tentative feeling that he couldn’t quite put a name to, a warmness, understanding perhaps?
Do you have a name? I’m James.
He thought about that, did he have a name? The confusion was back again, “Not sure,” he mumbled.
The target appeared then and James receded back again, a wash of unease and sadness following him as he pulled the trigger.
-#-#-#-
You need to stop the bleeding or we’re going to die.
He sat still and quiet in the abandoned warehouse, hiding from them.
James was telling him something speaking, pushing forward. He grunted trying to focus on the voice in his head.
“What?” He rasped aloud.
He was tired, sluggish, he just wanted to sleep.
No, come on now, not yet. We need to get the bleeding stopped.
He wanted to balk but the voice wouldn’t be stopped. It pushed and prodded talking him through it until he’d had his side bound up and the bleeding contained.
Well done.
He felt a warmth at the praise, the voice…James…he cared.
“Yasha, call me Yasha.”
-#-#-#-
Yasha it hurts.
He opened their eyes glancing around, it was easier to switch back and forth now; smoother. Not that anyone noticed, as long as the mission was complete they didn’t care.
“Hurts?” he said aloud, voice cracked and rough.
The arm…it hurts.
He nodded to himself but he knew James understood, he moved the arm looking at it curiously. It was inflamed where it connected to his shoulder red and angry, he poked at it indifferent.
You don’t feel it, do you?
Yasha settled back on the bare cot leaning against the damp stone wall. They'd returned from the mission two days ago, usually, they would be put under by now, but for some reason, they were still awake.
"Feel what?" he asked curiously.
Pain
Yasha shrugged, “I don’t know what that is.”
They were silent then for a long moment, Yasha gazing around the empty cell.
“Tell me again?” he asked aloud, his voice heavily accented with Russian.
About?
“The stories, about your friends…” he clarified. He liked to hear about the adventures of Captain America and the Howling Commandos.
Which one do you want to hear?
Yasha thought for a long moment, "All of them." He had a feeling of humour before James spoke again. Slowly weaving the story in their shared conciseness.
Steve was always a sickly kid, scrawny and tiny. Punk had a mouth though, always picking a fight and always in trouble.
As James spoke he could see it, still pictures and images shared between them. He settled back, a small smile curling his lips as James told him about long-ago adventure and the hero's that stood up against the injustice of the cruelty of the world.
-#-#-#-
That’s him isn’t it, and you?
He felt Yasha pushing gently in his mind curious and a little awed. James felt his lips twitch, he hadn't realized his other half was such a fan.
“Yeah,” he mumbled working his way slowly through the exhibit, allowing Yasha time to take it in with him.
It says you were the only one that died?
James exhaled shakily, “Yeah…it still feels like I did most days.”
Yasha didn’t say anything to that, he didn’t really need too, he already knew.
It had been Yasha that had managed to break the programming, scared and terrified he'd pulled Steve from the river before thrusting James forward and disappearing into their mind. James had been in awe of the other part of him for being able to fight so hard, to be strong enough to getaway.
It wasn’t easy on them though James had bad days…very bad days.
On more than one occasion he’d found himself thinking of taking the easy way out. Only Yasha had stopped him. Not in any sort of physical sense, Yasha never forced himself forward, and readily receded back. James was always the one pushing him out when it got too much. For all Yasha had done, what they had done, he was still so innocent. His whole life had been HYDRA and missions, he hadn’t understood that there was so much more out there.
Even now he was content to watch the world through James as they wandered through the Smithsonian exhibit. His excitement and curiosity spilling over into him, reminding him that it wasn't just him anymore.
He couldn’t take Yasha’s life when he hadn’t even had a chance to live it.
He paused by the gift shop, feeling the spike of interest in his head. Slowly he moved inside, unnoticed and almost invisible among the families with young children all clamoring for merchandise emblazoned with Captain America's shield.
He paused before a shelf of plush figures of Cap feeling a gentle nudge in his head. He sighed resigned.
“Really?” He murmured.
Please?
Grumbling James picked one up before stalking to the cash, vaguely embarrassed to be buying a child’s toy of his best friend. But as he paid for it and headed out, he could help the tiny smile that stretched his lips.
Thank you.
-#-#-#-
“James please?” He whispered desperately praying for an answer.
Silence.
Pale eyes closed before he went back to watching the blonde figure through the large observation window. It was Steve Rogers, Captain America, James’s friend…only James wasn’t here.
He hadn’t been able to hear James since those words had scrambled them.
It had been bad…so bad.
Like those first days when he hadn’t known what he was, or who they were. He’d been operating on pure survival. Scared and alone for the first time, he could only really remember flashes. He’d been so confused, disoriented, terrified that he could hear James. They’d always been together but it was just him now and he’d done the only thing he could think to do. He’d followed Captain America, just like in the stories James had told him.
Captain America was right, wasn’t he?
It’d been easier to follow his orders. Compliance with the mission.
He looked down at his trembling right hand, "Please James, I'm scared…" he whispered desperate to hear the familiar voice.
Silence.
They had fought the superheros at the airport, amazing people that had held him in thrall. A Spiderman that stopped his punch one handed, an Ant-man that grew huge, an Iron Man that had dazzled and glowed. It had been incredible.
All of them were hero’s, so why had they been fighting?
Captain America had asked about the super solider program, he knew they had to be stopped…only he and James had been able to survive.
So, they had gone to Siberia…his breath hitched as he remembered, the man…. Anthony Edward Stark; priority valuable asset. He'd known the name, remembered his file, he was good, he was a hero…and Yasha had killed his parents.
He closed his eyes trying hard not to cry, he remembered killing them, he hadn’t understood then who Howard was to James, who he’d thought Yasha was. He’d been just a mission, and James hadn’t been able at the time to explain.
He closed his eyes, his head felt hazy, his thoughts hard to hold onto and distant. He wanted James back, he didn’t want to be alone anymore. The silence in his head was so cold and lonely.
“Buck, are you sure about this?”
He heard the voice turning to it on instinct, Captain America kept calling him that, he didn’t understand why. He was Yasha…and James.
“Yes,” he managed to get out, masking his fear. He didn’t know what else to do, he didn’t want to be awake if James wasn’t here.
The big man was pulling him into a hug, he was ridged and awkward in his arms. Unsure what to do with the contact, no one touched him. Only when he needed maintenance.
Captain America released him and he went willingly to sleep…it was better than being alone in his head.
-#-#-#-
“I don’t like it,” Tony crossed his arms looking away from his best friend, he knew he was being petty but he couldn’t help it. He felt he had earned it, the wounds of Serbia had barely healed and Steve…blue eyes and big dimples, Steve Rogers was reaching out.
Nothing had gone the way he’d hoped, Tony really should have been used to it by now. His life was a series of failures marked by brief moments of hope; only to be dashed leaving him feeling devastated. Everything good he’d had turned to dust eventually.
The Avengers, Pepper…
“Tones, look…I know he hurt you…hurt you bad but, nobody was innocent in any of what we did.”
Tony closed his eyes tight, worrying his lower lip, damn the man he knew he was right. It still stung bad, he and Steve…they’d been close. He’d thought he’d had a friend in Steve.
He should have known better.
Tony sighed finally, resigned to his fate, “Ok fine I’ll play nice.”
Smiling softly Rhodey sat beside him, braces whirring, reminding him that if anyone had a right to hold a grudge it was his friend.
“We’ll get through Tony, always,” he murmured as he drew him in for a hug.
Tony sighed resting his head against his shoulder, “Promise?”
-#-#-#-
James watched the back of Steve assessing, he was tense, drawn…worried.
Why is he worried?
"Because he messed up," James mumbled, happy the others were pressed up front conversing in low tones. They did that a lot around him, spoke out of earshot, keeping things calm and composed while they shot him uneasy glances. James knew why, he and Yasha had a history.
I messed up.
Yasha’s voice was sad, the guilt rolling off him so strongly James growled. He wasn’t overly pleased with Steve at the moment, he was still having a difficult time believing his friend had been so blind. James wasn’t sure what had happened to him, but this wasn’t the Stevie he’d known his whole life.
I’m sorry, I should have turned myself in.
James calmed himself breathing deep, “Not your fault Yasha, you were just doing the best you could.”
They had been over this again and again while under in Wakanda they'd managed to remove their trigger words, and in doing so James had been able to communicate with Yasha once more.
The relief from his other half had been overwhelming and in fits and starts, James had managed to get the story from him. He'd be infuriated with his friend. Yasha had managed to talk him down reminding him that Steve had no idea Yasha existed at all. No one knew about Yasha. As far as anyone knew it was just him, and James intended to keep it that way. Being apart from Yasha had been just as terrifying for him.
"A few more minutes Buck, you doing ok?"
He looked up at his once best friend, carefully keeping his expression neutral.
“Fine Steve,” he mumbled.
It’s ok James, he just cares about you.
James felt an exasperated fondness for his other-self. He knew what he and Yasha where was unusual. He'd done a lot of research once they'd woke up, trying to figure out if HYDRA had created Yasha on purpose, or if it had been completely unintentional. The answer he figured was rather complex.
HYDRA had wanted to create the perfect weapon, a super soldier, what they managed to do, as far as James could figure, was break him. Yasha was a product of his splintered self, crated as a way for him to cope with horrors forced on him. Only he didn't think HYDRA had intended for Yasha to grow into his own identity as he had. Now it was he and Yasha, they were different, but together they made up James Barnes.
The revelation had been a relief; he liked Yasha, they'd been together for a long time, been with each other through so much. Yasha had seen him at his worst and pulled him through. He couldn't imagine not having him anymore. Didn't even want too.
The jet jostled beneath him and James resisted the urge to push Yasha forward and hide. It wasn't fair to him, he'd been through enough when James had been cut off from him. For a while, James had been sure that was it. Stuck somewhere between awake and dreaming he'd resigned himself to his fate; only a frantic Yasha had called him back and James knew he couldn't leave him alone.
He closed his eye breathing deep as the jet landed, lightly touching down before it was powering down and he was standing to follow the others. The small backpack that held all their worldly positions in hand. Slinging it on his back he flexed his new arm, trying to get used to the vastly upgraded technology. It was far superior to the one HYDRA had stuck on him. Best of all though it didn’t hurt. Yasha still wasn’t sure about it, complaining the difference in weight threw him off.
They shuffled off the jet Yasha a curious presence in his mind as they trailed after Steve towards the two men waiting to meet them. James recognized them right away; Anthony Stark and James Rhodes. Yasha had asked him a lot of questions about Stark when they'd been able to communicate again. James hadn't understood until finally, Yasha had confessed to what had happened in Serbia. James had been heartbroken for him. If anyone had deserved Stark's wrath it was him. Yasha hadn't understood at the time, and James, to guilt-ridden and heartsick had never explained the connection.
“Rogers,” Stark greeted, tone tense and brittle.
“Stark,” Rogers returned, shoulder straight, jaw gritted.
James wanted to smack his friend in the back in the head. He'd always been bull-headed and stubborn; not wanting to admit when he'd made a mistake.
I should apologize, I wanted to when we woke, but I wasn’t sure how.
Yasha was nervous, he could feel it, he was pushing gently, questioning. James held firm; now was not the time for that. Captain America and Iron Man looked like they were ready to square off again.
The tense standoff ended moments later when Colonel Rhodes finally stepped in taking them to their quarters.
James dutifully followed behind, unable to help but feel a little relieved, he’d been worried Stark would throw them out. The man had every right to, hell he had every right to kill them; but here he was offering them a place to live.
He glanced back at the man, sure he was being assessed from behind the dark frame of his glasses.
-#-#-#-
Something had been different about him.
Tony stared idly into thin air as his thoughts churned around in head; there had definitely been something different about Barnes.
“Course there was, he wasn’t trying to kill me this time,” he snorted to himself with a sigh.
Shaking off the odd encounter he resolutely turned back to his work. It had been a long day…a very long day. Tense and uneasy having the others back in the compound Tony was feeling much like he had at the beginning of it all. Those first hesitant and rocky days with the Avengers.
Annoyed with himself he tried to push it from his head. Sure, the pardons had been painful, Tony too proud to admit he’d fucked this up again. Rogers in the same boat. It was a battle of wills now, as they waited to see who would bend first.
But Rogers wasn't first and foremost on his mind, it was Barnes that had drawn his attention today. The dark-haired man had looked better than when he'd last seen him, though that hadn't been hard. He'd been hollow-eyed and terrified, practically shaking with fear and uncertainty.
There had been none of that today. He’d looked more at ease, if still unsure, but his expression had been shuttered and neutral. Eyes the colour of the summer sky in a storm assessing and watchful, frown turning his lips. Dark hair hanging in his face, looking just as soft as those frowning lips had.
“No,” he said aloud firmly, taking himself in hand before his thoughts got to wildly out of control. He was not going to find the murderer of his parents good looking. That was too much, even for him.
“Not going to think about it anymore,” he grumbled to himself before he pushed aside stupid thoughts as he turned back to work. He didn’t have to see them, Rhodey had promised, only when he was ready. He was just going to ignore James Buchanan Barnes.
It would be easy.
“Boss, Sargent Barnes is requesting entrance,” Friday announced.
Tony stuttered in surprise, eyes impossibly large as he looked up. They’d barely been here six hours and Barnes had the goddamn audacity too…. He felt the ugly rage bubble up in him again. Frustration and hurt threatening to spill out again.
It was on the tip of the tongue to send him away, how dare he?
Tony was working himself up, rationally he knew he should just deny him entry and send him away and ignore him for the rest of his miserable life. Only the petty, angry side of him wanted to let him have it. Tear into him, and make him hurt like he had hurt.
“Let him in Fri,” he ground out as he stood squaring his shoulder for battle, his suit crawling out of the casing around his arc; he would be ready this time.
He watched hard-eyed as the door slowly slid open, unconsciously widening his stance and planting his feet.
A dark head appeared first, cautious and tentative, glancing around before slowly he stepped forward hesitant.
Glaring hard Tony was unable to help the frown that pulled his lips, what on earth was the man wearing? Barnes stepped all the way into the workshop clad in a matching set of Captain America themed flannel pj's.
Pushing aside the unusual attire he focused on the figure, Barnes was still looking around wide-eyed, and slack-jawed. His expression genuinely interested and impressed.
What the hell was going on?
Suddenly those pale eyes landed on him and the man-made a soft noise of understanding. Carefully Barnes walked forward, closing the distance between them. Tony clenched his jaw, fingers flexing, masking his uncertainty with what he hoped was a fierce gaze.
Barnes stopped within reaching distance, pale eyes holding his gaze intense and steady. Tony waited as the silence stretched between them. Tony resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably he would not lose this game of chicken.
“I’m so sorry Mr. Stark,” he finally said, his voice soft, accented with Russian; pale cheeks pinking softly.
“I didn’t understand then…it’s not an excuse, I accept full responsibility it was me. I should have told you but I didn’t. I was a little confused, and I tired but…it’s still no excuse.”
Tony blinked surprised and disarmed by the babbling ex-assassin. It was if a dam had broken and the words came tumbling out in a torrent. Barnes looked to be in genuine distress, eyes wide, cheeks flushed as he struggled with the words. Accent getting thicker with his desperation.
Tony understood he was apologizing, and he knew what he was apologizing for.
It was the first apology he’d got since the whole damn mess had started.
He lowered his arms slowly, marginally relaxing. Barnes was still going; he held his arm up to stall him. The other man snapped his jaw shut so fast and hard it must have hurt. Tony winced in sympathy.
“Ok,” he breathed out, “You’re sorry I get it.”
Barnes nodded so violently his hair came loose from its haphazard bun, a dark lock falling across his forehead. Tony had a strange compulsion to tuck it back, instead, he cleared his throat.
“Is that all?” he asked gruffly, looking away from the intense stare.
“Thank you,” the other blurted then, “For letting us come here, and live here.”
Tony was so surprised he looked right back into that intense gaze, sure the man was being sarcastic. He looked completely genuine, Tony had no idea what to say. No one thanked him…they all assumed…
“You didn’t have to, but you did and we appreciate it Mr. Stark,” Barnes looked so damn earnest.
“Call me Tony, you’re welcome?” He said almost reflexively.
The other gifted him with a smile then and it was absolutely stunning, sweet, and charming. An assassin should not be able to smile like that.
Tony was thoroughly confused.
“Well thanks again, and I am sorry…I just wanted to say it. I know you’re busy, I won’t bother you anymore.”
He turned to go then, Tony still trying to get his tongue unstuck from the roof of his mouth, he finally managed to get it just as the big man reached the door. Bright eyes still travelling over his lab all curiosity and interest.
“You can come back…sometime…if you want.”
Tony had no idea what made him offer but as soon as the words were out, he knew he meant them.
“Yeah?”
That sweet smile was back and Tony felt an incredible dissidence, this was the feared Winter Solider?
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
“Thank you, Tony,” he said cheeks pink and eyes bright as he rushed out of the workshop.
Tony sat heavily on his stool feeling as if he’d just been blindsided by the Hulk, “What the actual fuck?”
-#-#-#-
Yasha waited until James was asleep before he took control. He felt a little bad about not telling James what he was up too, but his excitement won out as he allowed his other half to sleep undisturbed.
It was something they did often enough, switch out allowing the other to sleep. It had allowed them to keep going during the more gruelling missions under HYDRA. In this instance, he had been using it as a way to sneak out to the workshop.
Slipping out of bed he grumbled getting his PJ’s back on, James liked to sleep nude; he did not.
Dressed he silently slipped out of their room and headed for the workshop. They’d been at the compound for almost a month now. He and James working on finding a balance, although he didn’t mind James being in charge most of the time, he wasn’t all that comfortable around the others. James wasn’t either really but he was able to navigate the social situations better.
They mostly kept to themselves, doing things they enjoyed, or at least on his part figuring out what he enjoyed…and what he enjoyed the most…
He hurried down the steps carefully tapping out his code, grinning as the door silently hissed open, the wash of thumping bass hitting him like a wall. He sighed feeling some of the tension easing out of his shoulders.
“You’re late Snowdrop, didn’t think you were coming,” a familiar voice teased.
Yasha turned automatically smiling at Tony, chest warm.
“Thought maybe you’d got a better offer tonight,” the genius winked.
Yasha blushed, feeling his cheeks heat automatically. He was still trying to find his footing around Tony Stark. The man-made him feel unsettled but in the nicest way possible.
“No,” he mumbled shyly looking down at his slippered foot.
There was a soft laugh, “Well, Dum-E will be happy.”
Yasha grinned as the small robot whirred happily appearing at his side. Patting the bot carefully he took the small rubber ball from the claw tossing it across the lab.
“How was today?” Tony asked him turning back to his work, Yasha knew he was listening though.
“Good day,” he answered honestly, they weren’t all good. Somedays he and James got muddled cloudy, but today had been a good day.
“That’s great,” Tony hummed, bent over something that he couldn’t even begin to understand.
Turning back to the little bot Yasha threw the ball again before he spotted something on one of the far tables. It was the plush that caught his eye first, intrigued he headed over to it, slippers shuffling across the floor. He did it on purpose to let Tony know where he was, a couple times in those first few days he'd accidentally scared the genius, and after the smaller man had confessed he had a heart condition Yasha had felt horrible.
Getting closer he could see the table was covered with superhero-themed merchandise; plushies, blankets, action figures, lunch boxes, even comics…he started at them shifting from foot to foot.
“Go ahead take a look,” Tony sounded amused, Yasha shot him a shy smile before he was looking through the things touching the plush and the blankets, feeling the materials. He was learning he liked certain textures, often focusing on the way things felt. James could care less, but he liked when things were softer, not so jagged and hard.
He was looking through the comics when Tony spoke again, “The PR department at SI keeps tabs on all the merchandising and licensing, they send over some of it from time to time.”
He nodded that made sense, he and James had seen a lot of it when they’d been on their own. The Avengers were very popular. He picked up the Iron Man plush, remembering when James had bought him a Captain America one at the exhibit. He wondered what had happened to it.
“You can have that, well any of that you can have,” Tony offered softly, Yasha glanced up at dark eyes watching him, he felt his cheeks heat and his heart pound in his chest.
“Yeah?” He asked softly hesitantly.
Tony nodded, “Yeah.”
Tony looked away first, cheeks pink, as he scrubbed a hand through dark hair, clearing his throat, “If you want more I can get you more as well.”
That warmth turned hot, and Yasha caught his breath, “Thank you.”
Tony nodded before briskly returning to work, Yasha looked down at the plushies on the table carefully hugging the Iron Man to his chest.
-#-#-#-
“Who is it?”
Tony looked up at the abrupt question, blinking stupidly at his CEO, “Who is what?”
Pepper rolled her eyes at him, “You’ve met someone, who?”
Tony was taken aback, “I haven’t….” he trailed off as a sudden picture of James Barnes clad in his matching superhero pj’s, reading comics on his workshop couch popped into his head.
Pepper laughed, and Tony, much too his chagrin found himself blushing, "So you have met someone."
He glowered at her, Pepper chuckled, "It's a good thing, Tony."
He opened his mouth to retort when the boardroom door opened and the meeting began, but Pepper’s words stayed with him. Echoing ominously in his head.
Barnes had completely disarmed him.
He had been fully prepared to ignore the dark broody man, occasionally work with him, then just pretend he didn’t exist. Only Barnes had barged into his life, blushing, and stuttering, catching him complete unware. The man was a total mystery; one that intrigued and compelled him.
He recalled both Steve and his father telling him stories of Sargent Barnes, ones of courage, bravery, and loyalty. From all their accounts, he’d been a bit of smooth talker, outgoing and personable. Only the Barnes that had shown up in his workshop wasn’t anything like the man he’d been told of.
Barnes seemed so…venerable, it brought up an oddly protective feeling in him. More and more Tony found himself wanting to wrap him in his fluffy Hulk blanket and keep him safe.
Sighing frustrated with himself he navigated the streets away from SI pausing by a magazine stand, eyes catching on the brightly coloured comic books. Before he’d thought better of it he’d bought a stack.
"What are you doing Stark?" He mumbled to himself as he disappeared into the crowd.
-#-#-#-
James stared sullenly at the spaghetti, ignoring the chaos around him, and the worried glances from Steve.
We need to eat.
Yasha’s exasperated voice prodded him, and his frown deepened. It didn’t taste right, none of the food tasted right.
“Buck, you not hungry?”
Steve was frowning at him, worry in blue eyes. He wanted to punch him right in his perfectly square jaw. He still hadn't forgiven him for the whole fiasco with Yasha, struggling to try and find some common ground with his friend.
Although more and more he was feeling as if the Steve he'd told Yasha about in those dark days had only existed in his head.
He shrugged non-committal, no interest at all in the food in front of him.
“Would you like some cake?” Steve offered hesitantly.
Despite himself, James was interested, "Sure," he mumbled.
We cannot just live on sweets.
"You eat it then," he grumbled, not missing the odd glance he got from Natasha across the table. He knew both he and Yasha had a bad habit of answering each other out loud, but the others tended to ignore his peculiarities, too afraid to confront him about it.
Fine put it in the fridge I’ll get it later.
Steve returned with the cake and James got up from the table taking his full plate and wrapping it up and placing it in the fridge. Returning to the table he happily dug into the dessert.
Don't know how you eat that, far too sugary.
James felt his lips curl, as Yasha sent a feeling of amusement towards him.
“Evening all,” a familiar voice called as Stark strolled in.
James immediately looked up, feeling a rush of sweet warmth seeing him. Stark intrigued him, HYDRA had been both terrified and in awe of him. Much like Yasha, he'd wanted to make amends with the man, but he was both hesitant and unsure. Steve had told him some stories, and James thought knowing Tony Stark would be an amazing thing. Too bad Stark hated him.
He felt a sharp stab of pain in his chest at that thought.
There was a chorus of polite greetings from around the table, things still a little stilted between the Rouges and the others, but tensions seemed to be easing.
Except between Steve and Stark.
"Want some dinner, Tones?" Rhodes asked from the kitchen.
“Naw already ate just wanted to…” he trailed off moving through the kitchen, James watching him, curiosity turning to shock as much to his surprise Stark stopped before him. James felt his heart pick up, as he looked up into handsome features.
“Here,” he said holding out a plastic bag, “Saw these today.”
Incredulous James accepted the bag, glancing inside; comics.
Surprised he looked back up into those dark brown eyes, Stark was looking at him softly, almost fondly.
“Thanks,” he managed to stutter out, trying to tramp down the fragile blossom of hope in his chest.
Stark was looking at him intently brow furrowing in confusion before he turned abruptly, leaving the kitchen without another word. James watched feeling almost shaky and weak as Stark vanished
"What did he bring you, Buck?" Steve looked curious, wordless James held out the bag, "Comics? I didn't know you liked comics."
"I don't," he mumbled before a sudden thought crossed his mind. He didn't like comics, but Yasha did.
-#-#-#-
Suddenly James was seeing Stark everywhere.
When he was working out in the gym when he was reading in the common area, even one time when he was sitting out back by the lake. It all seemed coincidental, but he'd been at the compound over a month and he hadn't seen Stark until that night he'd given him the comics. He couldn't figure it out, and he'd been hesitant to mention it to Yasha, knowing his other half was still feeling guilty over what had transpired. James felt the need to protect him, even if he was just his feelings.
James sighed, admittedly, maybe, he had a little crush on Tony Stark.
It was hard not to, the man was handsome as all get out, smart as a whip, and effortlessly charming. If he'd still been himself from long ago James would have already asked him out dancing. Only he wasn't. He was a murder, and it wasn't just him anymore.
Frankly, he was somewhat embarrassed to bring it up to Yasha. They'd never broached the topic of romantic interest. Hell, he hadn't had the inclination until recently, and he wasn't even sure Yasha had any interest in romance at all. He'd never said one way or the other.
As the thought crossed his mind it gave him pause, what if Yasha did eventually like someone? What if they ended up liking different people? It wouldn’t be fair to deny Yasha a relationship.
Groaning he buried his face in his hands, how the hell had his life get some complex?
What?
The voice was a little dozy, and hazy, Yasha had been sleeping a lot lately. Leaving Bucky most of the morning to himself, which was fine, he didn’t begrudge Yasha that, he’d done the lion’s share of the work when they’d been under HYDRA. He deserved his rest.
“Was just thinking,” he mumbled looking up at the blue sky, lazy white clouds floating by.
About what?
Yasha was clearer, more aware, it was almost like pushing up and forward. They could be there hearing and seeing what was going on but they could also be settled back somewhere in between. Quite and unaware of what the other was doing.
“Us,” he confessed, enjoying the warm rays on his face.
They couldn't see each other's thoughts unless they wanted to share, and James was thankful for that. As James's thoughts of late were about dark haired genius.
What about us?
James winced a little, maybe it was time to test the waters.
“Yasha, do you have any sort of romantic interest?”
There was a confused pause before James sort of shared an old faded memory of kissing some dame in a smoky pub on leave. He got a feeling of embarrassment, with an undercurrent of interest from the other.
Is that what you do? Kiss?
James couldn’t help but grin, “Yeah, hold hands, kiss, make love…” He wasn’t sure how he knew but he was sure Yasha was blushing.
Love?
“Yeah love, do you love someone?” Yasha was silent, uncomfortable, James felt bad.
"I don't mean like right now, but in the future, you know if you love someone. We'll work something out if you want too."
Thanks, James.
-#-#-#-
Tony sat staring at nothing.
His project long forgotten as he stared at the surface of his workbench. He knew James Barnes was a puzzle, but damned if he was able to work it out.
There was a mystery here and he was going to solve it.
It had started that first night in the lab, he’d chalked it up to HYDRA brainwashing and cryo freezing. He’d accepted it, that was just the way he was. But the night he’d given him the comics at dinner, the way Barnes had looked at him had been…off.
He hadn’t blushed or stammered, and most curious of all instead of the familiar Russian lilt he was used to, it had been rough and tumble Brooklyn rolling off his tongue.
He’d tried to justify it as perhaps putting on a show for Steve, the Captain had been out of sorts with his ex-assassin friend since they’d reunited. Tony was a scientist though, and like any good scientist he needed more data. Only the more he watched Barnes the more confused he became, Barnes during the day was very different from the Barnes that came into his workshop at night.
During the day, Barnes was solemn and brooding, refusing to eat unless it was something sweet. He read books, thick intimidating volumes, everything from the Count of Monte Cristo to It. He wore tight shirts that showed off his ridiculously defined torso, and snug jeans that left Tony feeling a little hot under the collar.
But at night...he was bubbly and enthusiastic, smiling that sweet smile as he readily ate staggering quantities of food and wore those almost childish Pj's he seemed to favour. If not the matching jammie sets then fluffy, thick clothing, covered from head to toe, while he sat cross-legged reading comics or watching cartoons on TV.
It was almost like he was two completely different people.
“Tony?”
Startled he looked up into the sweet smiling face he’d just been thinking about.
“You ok?”
Shaking his head to push the problem aside he nodded, “Of course Snowflake, just thinking.”
Barnes nodded, stray wisps of hair falling in his face from the sloppy bun, another anomaly he noted absently; Barnes only wore his hair up at night.
“Oh? A new project?” Those light eyes looked at him wide, and curious.
Tony felt that warmth in his chest again, “Just thinking about how sweet you are,” he flirted pleased when the big man wrinkled his nose in pleased embarrassment cheeks red. It was an odd way to describe such a big man but it was true; he was utterly adorable.
Tony had the sudden urge to kiss him, without thinking he was dropping his eyes to his lips. A little raw from being worried between those straight white teeth, but no less desirable.
“Tony?” the voice was all soft Russian husk, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.
The compulsion grew as a tension settled between them, the air veritably crackling with energy. The world felt as if it was falling away and Tony got lost in those eyes. Gray and clear as the sky on a winter's morning, and just as still. He wasn't thinking then leaning in, pausing a hairsbreadth from those lips before the tension snapped and he was kissing those chapped lips.
It was short, and chaste before Tony was pulling back nervous now.
What the hell had got into him?
Barnes was blinking at him, eyes wide, mouth open in a small ‘o' of wonder. Goddamit he wanted to kiss him again.
“Umm…James?” he asked softly, worried as the silence stretched on.
The other was staring at him intently. Tony began to panic, sure he’d messed it all up. Swallowing thickly, he was about to start back peddling when careful big hands reached for him, wrapping around his shoulders as he crowded closer.
Tony didn't dare move a muscle as he drew near, "Call me Yasha," he breathed, seconds before those lips were on his again; and then Tony wasn't doing much thinking at all.
-#-#-#-
Yasha worriedly paced the room biting roughly at their lip, only noticing it was bleeding when the unpleasant metallic sting hit his tongue. Making a face he tried to stop but fell back to worrying it again as he continually moved about the room.
He was desperately waiting for and dreading James waking up. He knew it was time to come clean about his nightly routine, especially since…he pressed his hands to his cheeks feeling the heat on his face as it threatened to split from a grin. He couldn't stop thinking about the night before; kissing Tony had been, incredible.
It had been a little awkward at first, he'd been unsure and hesitant, but he'd followed Tony's lead, and soon they'd been tumbling onto the workshop couch tangled together as they'd leisurely lost each other in kisses. Only parting when the need for air had forced them to.
The best part though was when Tony had held him in his arms. Sighing he hugged himself, burying his face against his top, sure he could still smell Tony's cologne. Closing his eyes, he remembered laying against the warm chest, content to be pressed close to the other man.
You’re up early.
The hazy, sleepy voice of James made Yasha jump, thoughts scattering in his head.
“Yes, I was waiting for you to get up…” he stammered, fussing with the cuffs on his hoddie.
Everything ok?
Yasha took a breath, it was now or never, “I wanted to talk to you about-” he was cut off as a sudden blaring alarm sounded throughout the compound. He fell into a defensive crouch immediately.
“What is that?” he hissed, muscles tensing expecting an attack.
I don’t know….
James sounded just as concerned when suddenly his bedroom door was flying open and a fully geared Captain America was yelling at him.
“Bucky, suit up we have a call!”
Yasha panicked immediately pulling back and letting James come forward, agitated he settled back uneasy and uncomfortable with what was happening.
James took control slowly straightening from their crouch, “Ok.”
Steve nodded briskly before he turned on his heel turning away.
He waited until he was sure Steve was gone, “You ok Yasha?”
I’m ok, he just startled me.
“Yeah…he can be a little over the top,” James muttered as he pulled on their Kevlar uniform, trying to ignore the trembling in his hands. He had known this day was coming, Steve had told him there would eventually be a call. Only he’d secretly been hoping there would have been more time.
His motions were automatic, his hands knowing what to do as he strapped on Yasha's Glocks, before slinging his rifle on his back. He tried not to think, but the memories were there, churning and bubbling just at the fringes. He pushed them away, clenching his jaw he moved, he had to keep moving.
“You had something you wanted to tell me Yasha?” He remembered as he headed out the door.
There was a brief pause from his other half.
It can wait until after.
-#-#-#-
“I don’t think he’s ready Steve,” Tony was not backing down not today, and not where Yasha was concerned.
“It’s not your call to make,” Steve frowned at him arms crossing as he narrowed his eyes.
Tony clenched his teeth, it wasn’t Steve’s call to make either really it was Carol’s, but she was off saving the universe so at the moment it was just him and Steve arguing while Wanda, Natasha, Sam, and Clint looked on curiously.
Opening his mouth to take a strip off Cap he paused as the man in question appeared. Tony immediately turned to him, giving his back to Steve as the dark-haired man approached.
He came to a halt before him, Tony hiding his wince as he fell into parade rest all imposing Kevlar and bristling weaponry. Tony wanted to reach out to him, but Steve was already striding forward clapping him on the shoulder.
"Good to have you, Buck."
Tony refused to move as Steve pushed past him onto the Quinjet, the others following. The last was Yasha, Tony catching his eye for the briefest of moments before he was disappearing up the gangplank. Biting back his anger Tony followed reluctantly.
Normally he'd be flying ahead, gun blazing but today is worry was gnawing at him. He moved purposely to sit at Yasha's side, ignoring the side-eye he got from Steve.
"You ok?" he asked softly, searching eyes bluer in the light of the cabin. Yasha looked surprised for a moment before his gaze softened and he looked away without answering. Tony felt his lips thin before he gave Steve a very pointed look.
He wanted to reach out and grab Yasha's hand, hold him tight and remind him that it was all going to be ok. The previous night in the workshop suddenly seemed like a distant dream. Holding Yasha tight as lips and hands carefully explored. Falling asleep wrapped in one another. There had been a tenderness and shyness in his touch and it had left Tony breathless and wanting more.
He’d woke with Yasha in his arms, pliant and sweet…Tony could see waking up like that again. He’d even been reluctant to let him go this morning; he was still trying to work out what that had meant. Before he’d managed to overthink everything, the alarm had sounded and now they were speeding towards some unknown mess.
Steve was talking to them then, but Tony wasn’t paying attention his whole focus was on the man beside him. Yasha’s leg was jittering up and down, his complexion had turned waxen. Tony’s concern grew, unable to help but notice the way he hunched his shoulders, fists clenching and unclenching. Everything in Tony cried out to gather him close, promise him he didn’t need to do this.
He had nothing to prove.
“I can’t…I can’t do it,” his voice was small, husky and soft all but lost under the drone of the engine and the chatter around them.
Tony was reaching for him then, fuck Steve, he could get Yasha back to the compound and catch up with the others. Opening his mouth to tell Steve off, the words stalled out in his throat as the hunched figure suddenly straightened, eyes snapping forward, as he focused unnervingly on Steve.
“Mission parameters,” the voice was the one he knew so well, soft, Russian threading through it.
Steve didn’t seem to notice as he briskly set out the intel they had. Tony barely registered what he was saying his eyes never leaving the dark-haired man beside him.
What the hell was going on?
-#-#-#-
I’m so sorry Yasha.
James was an odd mix of sorrow and guilt.
I thought I could but I…
“It’s ok,” he assured him as he moved through the robots with ease, “It’s close combat anyway.”
Still, you shouldn't have to fight…not anymore.
Yasha felt a wash of fondness, and affection for his other half, “We’re in it together, right?”
He felt James return the affection before he was moving again, putting their metal arm through the chest of one of the giant robots.
“Winter Solider! See if you can get through and meet up with Iron Man.”
He heard Cap in his ear, and it gave him an odd sort of thrill, Yasha was still trying to get his head around the fact that he was actually fighting with the Avengers. For the first time, they weren’t the bad guy.
He grunted his affirmative as he pushed forward, spotting Sam and Tony overhead, hearing the playful banter over the coms. Yasha had a moment of surrealism, the world seemed bright and vivid, moving by him at lightning speeds. He felt like he was in the middle of one of his comics, and he had the strangest compulsion to step back and watch.
“Buck look out!”
He heard Cap in his ear seconds before he felt the large metal robot arm send him flying through the air. He hit the ground hard his right arm bending unnaturally under him as he bounced on the pavement. A little embarrassed by his rather undignified flight he was immediately rolling back to his feet and working his way through the swarm. He went to move his right arm to punch, only it didn’t respond. Irritated he looked down at the limb; a glistening bone protruding from the skin and leather he wore.
Oh god Yasha.
He could feel James cringing away, “It’s fine,” he assured him shrugged it off as he turned back to the fight. Tucking his useless right against himself, he used his left. James retreated back apologetic, but that was ok, he could work though. He had before, at least this time it wasn’t his leg.
He managed to make it to the other side, Iron Man dropping from the sky to land before him. Yasha grinned behind the mask he wore; he looked so cool.
He watched at the metal folded back revealing Tony, blown away yet again by the tech. It was something right out science fiction. Tony was smirking at him and Yasha was glad the man couldn’t see the blush he felt creeping up his cheeks. Unable to do anything but remember those sweet kisses they had shared just a few hours ago.
Yasha really wanted to kiss him again.
"He's right here I got him, Cap…oh, Christ!"
Yasha blinked one minute Tony was smirking at him the next he was in front of him metal fingers tenderly pulling his arm away from where he had it snugged up against his chest.
“Oh, Yasha,“ He said hissed softly, looking suddenly pale and a little green.
“It’s fine,” he assured him quickly, “Doesn’t hurt.”
Brown eyes looked at him in disbelief.
"No really it doesn't," He wasn't sure exactly why he suddenly felt anxious, he didn't want Tony to be concerned. He was more embarrassed than anything, first time out with everyone and he'd messed up his arm.
Tony was frowning at him was speaking into the coms, “Cap you got clean up? I need to take Barnes to medical.”
Those dark eyes never left him and Yasha felt a roll of unease and panic, had he done something wrong? He began worrying his lip, as he resisted the urge to reach out to James, the other was there but on edge ever since the call.
“He says he’s fine but I want to get him checked out. Faster if I fly him.”
A metal hand was held out to him, “Come on Yasha, we need to get that arm looked at.”
"I'm sorry," he blurted out anxiety spilling through, he didn't want Tony upset with him. "I didn't mean to it'll heal, I can…it'll heal." He couldn't stop the words, or the desperation, he needed Tony to understand.
“Hey now, nothing to be sorry for sweetheart,” Tony’s tone was gentle coaxing.
Yasha felt a warmth in his chest at the endearment. Slowly he reached out his metal arm, Tony pulling him close tucking him against his chest, as he pressed a soft brief kiss to his temple.
"It'll be an ok sweetheart."
Yasha felt some of the tension bleed out of his shoulders. Leaning closer as Tony took off cradling him in his metal arms.