nerves_of_ice | [Virginia AU] to unravel a torment you must begin somewhere

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virginia au

[Virginia AU] to unravel a torment you must begin somewhere

I need to think, he'd told Sharon, and it's true all the way down to his bones. The problem is that he's having trouble doing it. After he spends the next half hour jumping at shadows, he considers going down into the tunnels for a while, but reluctantly decides against it. There's a five-kilometer trail on the grounds that he's run a couple of times. It'll do for a test, to see if the agents are going to have either a singular or a collective fit at his being out of the compound proper. Bucky goes straight from the garage's back exit to the nearest point, strips his jacket and leaves it on the ground, then settles into an easy lope.

By the third circuit, his mind's clear enough for him to start mulling over a few things, clear enough for him to look at the events of the last day or so in a new light. No wonder he'd had something like a - he doesn't even know how to describe it, the whirlwind of shock and fear and hurt and near-panic and desperation that he's been feeling. A spiral, maybe, but in the end the term doesn't matter, it's the reason, and when he really lets himself think about it, it doesn't take a genius or a scientist to be able to pinpoint it. All three of the people he's closest to in the world, the ones who know him best, had deceived him - or, to be fair, had let him deceive himself. And as a result, all three - Sharon more than the others, but Steve and Natasha as well - had taken harm or have been placed at still-great risk of harm, harm he's desperate to defend them from somehow. When he looks at it that way, it's really no wonder why he's reacting as he is. It's also obvious to him that he can't allow it to continue.

Bucky sets his jaw in tight, grim lines, and keeps running.

Three hours later, he makes his way back inside, absently mopping the sweat from his face and neck with the discarded jacket, and goes to find Hogan. "Windows," he tells him. Whether or not he'll leave them uncovered doesn't matter, not now. "Lots of windows. Somewhere high, not too near people. Furnished however you do as standard's fine for now. Okay?"

"I've got just the one," Hogan tells him. "I'll have it ready tomorrow. That soon enough?"

"Yes," Bucky assures him. "Thanks."

He stays with Steve again that night. Things are a little strained at first, until Bucky breaks the ice and apologizes for how he's been reacting. Steve doesn't want his apology, but his best friend listens while he tries to explain, and that's more than good enough.

Later that evening, he texts Natasha to suggest they catch up soon, and offers to bring cocoa, hoping the idea'll amuse her enough for her to realize he's not angry. Not any more. He texts Alyona a picture of Steve's bike, one of the ones he'd taken hanging upside-down, just to say hi, and texts Sharon a good-night wish.

He doesn't sleep much, due to the incessant nightmares, but at least he knows the reason for them. It helps.

The coffee's already made when Steve gets up, and conversation's a lot more relaxed. He's the first to ask about getting on the training schedule, and Steve's smile lights up the room.

By 8:57 AM, Bucky's waiting in the same conference room as the day before, a mug of black coffee at hand, and a blank notepad and pen on the table in front of him.

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“I’ve got a good feeling about today,” Riley says, as he and Ingrid head toward the little meeting room.

She gives him a skeptical glance, but doesn’t argue, which is honestly already a win for him.

The new apartment feels too big. Bucky figures it’s just something else he’s going to have to get used to, part of his accelerated rush toward being a person again, especially now, but in the meantime he makes coffee and finds a sports channel on the television to fill the silence with aimless sound and leaves early for the meeting with the agents.

Still, it could be worse, he thinks.

“Morning, Sergeant,” Riley says, cheerful, as they enter the room. “I was telling Ingrid here about that coffee shop. Thanks for the recommendation.”

“You’re welcome,” Bucky says. His glance flicks to Nilsson and back again.

“Good morning.”

“We haven’t had a chance to get there yet, but we’ll check it out for sure,” Riley promises him, settling into a seat as Ingrid does the same. “And we - “

But a soft chime from outside the meeting room distracts him, and he frowns at Ingrid. “That’s the arrival notification. I wonder who’s swinging by.”

He can't say he thinks much of compound security or protocol, administered as it is by the man he's well aware was once Tony Stark's chauffeur, of all things. Stark's blind loyalty's a weakness.

Still, it simplifies matters in the moment, and Thaddeus Ross has never been loath to take advantage of an opportunity. He's certain that Stark and Rogers will be apprised of his presence soon enough, but for now Hogan can't immediately figure out a way to deny access to the Secretary of State, and Ross doesn't give him time to think about it. When pushed, Hogan admits that Barnes is usually in a meeting at this time of the morning, and gives him directions to the location.

Ross walks with him as escort to the small conference room and leaves him outside, not waiting for the chime to be acknowledged. He walks in with the easy confidence of a man comfortable in his power, and his glance goes straight to Barnes, who rises slowly to his feet on the other side of the table.

"I see the rumors are true."

Fuck. He can't face this sitting down, and doesn't even try. As he gets to his feet, Bucky silently prays that whatever's keeping Steve from being here at this moment keeps delaying him for long enough that he can find a way to deal with the situation.

Somehow.

"Secretary Ross."

His tone is completely devoid of emotion... any emotion at all.

The agents cast a glance at one another, then stand. Ingrid sets herself between Ross and Barnes, while Riley shifts to stand next to the Sergeant.

“Mister Secretary,” Ingrid says, calm. “This is unexpected. Is there something we can help you with?”

These must be the Task Force agents assigned to shadow Barnes. A waste of personnel, in his opinion, but that's all right. Things will be a lot simpler soon and then they can go back to pushing whatever papers they shuffle for the other Ross - the lesser one.

"You could get me a cup of coffee," he says, mildly. "And then we might as well all have a chat. I'm curious as to why a known terrorist and enemy of the United States is operating without restriction rather than being in a secure location."

Although his tone is pleasant, he keeps his eyes on Barnes as he says it. The man doesn't flinch, and the look in his eyes is as empty as he's ever seen - the dead-eyed stare of a sociopathic killer, he's sure.

Ingrid doesn't move, only eyes Ross with obvious dislike. This American skitstövel has clearly gotten to where he is by pushing through everyone around him. He'll find it difficult to push her. "Sergeant Barnes is a homecoming prisoner of war," she tells the Secretary. "A little respect, please."

Near Barnes, Riley shifts, slightly. "If you'll come with me," he says, easily, "we'll get you that coffee and then you and Agent Nilsson and I can talk."

"The Winter Soldier's a terrorist, Agent," Ross returns, eyebrows raised. Bucky holds himself perfectly, absolutely still as he listens. "Isn't that what you people are supposed to do? Remove terrorist threats?"

He's ready when Ross's sharp glance shifts back to him. "A terrorist, an assassin, and a murderer with decades of slaughter to his name," he points out, watching Bucky for any reaction. "Am I wrong, Barnes?"

Ross doesn't wait for an answer, which is just as well, as Bucky has no intention of saying anything at all if he can help it. The other man turns back to Riley. "I take it black with sugar," he says. "But I see no reason for us to go anywhere - yet. We can have our conversation right here."

Riley glances at her, and she nods: she can hold the fort for the moment. He pats Barnes's shoulder, then slips out of the room, heading towards the nearest coffee maker. She takes advantage of the moment to check Barnes, whose gaze is totally empty in a way neither she nor Riley has seen before.

Freshly annoyed, she turns back to the Secretary. "The Winter Soldier is a program which was inflicted on Sergeant Barnes," Ingrid reminds him, coolly. "A terrorist threat, as you point out. Which is makes it the Task Force's purview, not that of the United States government. Unless you'd like to argue it again with the rest of the United Nations?"

"I suppose basic U.S. civics isn't always well taught in schools these days," Ross observes. "A shame. I'll have to talk to my counterpart in Education about it. In case you've forgotten, agent, State's responsible for all sorts of negotiations with foreign powers, and I can assure you there's a real and present interest in the new American weapons program and how we might intend to use it."

His gaze cuts pointedly to Barnes, then returns to her.

"No," Ingrid says, dry. "Unsurprisingly, it isn't taught in Swedish schools, because despite what Americans like to think, you are not the center of the universe."

Her eyebrows lift, infinitesimally. "And I assure you, Mister Secretary, the other nations of this world would be very interested in your intention to create a new weapons program."

Ross sighs. "New to us," he clarifies, as though explaining something to a child. Idly, Bucky wonders if Ross is using his condescending paternalism as a strategic choice or if he's just that kind of person. The intel he'd come across previously was inconclusive. "We didn't create it, agent. But we're sure as hell responsible for it now."

He braces internally as Ross turns back to scrutinize him. "And I don't see how letting you wander around outside strict control's a good idea. We wouldn't do that with any other weapon. Would we, Barnes?"

He holds himself still and silent, and observes from behind his empty expression as annoyance sparks in Ross's glance. "Nothing to say?"

"Not at present." His voice is as empty as his stare.

"I'd appreciate if you'd refer to Sergeant Barnes as the person he is," Ingrid tells the Secretary, unfazed by his patronization, though she's simmering deep inside. "The Winter Soldier may be a weapon, but he is perfectly sentient. As you know, since you keep insisting he speak."

Her chin lifts, slightly. "If the US government is interested in re-starting and using the Winter Soldier program, you will have to take it up with the United Nations. I expect there will be quite a lot of disagreement about your rights to it."

"Oh, so you admit he is a weapon," Ross says. "That's refreshing. I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten that little fact."

Bucky's thoughts are racing. Ross hasn't mentioned the Avengers yet, which seems like a glaring oversight. What he can't figure out is why, but it's probably not anything good. He resolves not to mention it first, and to try to keep the man's focus limited to himself alone if he can.

Meanwhile, Ross continues, "I've read the file, agent." Bucky keeps himself from reacting to that, either, although a corner of his mind wonders who'd sent it or how he'd requisitioned it. "I'm aware of the block. But blocks can be broken. Or removed."

Ice spears through him.

When he comes in, Ingrid is rolling her eyes, and Sergeant Barnes is still tense and silent. "I'm afraid the Task Force won't allow that to be attempted," Riley informs the Secretary, cheerfully.

He offers out the coffee with a smile. "Aside from Sergeant Barnes' own right to decide whether or not he'd prefer to keep the block in place, the Task Force has a vested interest in ensuring its permanence. I'd guess the Avengers do, too. You said black with sugar, right?"

Edited 2022-07-14 13:07 (UTC)

"I did," he confirms, with a nod of appreciation for the younger man as he accepts the coffee. It's always good to offer praise to the young and impressionable when possible.

Satisfaction threads through him as he smiles. "Ah, yes, the Avengers' interest. Of course. How could I forget."

"How, indeed," Ingrid says, desert-dry. "Seeing as you've come to their compound."

She dislikes power games of all types, and ones like this in particular. "Perhaps you should take that up with Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark."

"Oh, I intend to," Ross smiles, all cheerful bonhomie. A sick, sinking feeling is spreading through Bucky's core, although he keeps it hidden while the other man continues. "Tell me, agent, in your professional opinion and that of the Task Force, what do you think of Barnes' new role?"

"The Task Force is pleased to support Sergeant Barnes's transition to the Avengers," Ingrid says, coolly. "We understand that the best option for mitigating the threat of the Winter Soldier program is to return Sergeant Barnes's personal autonomy."

She waits a beat, as Riley returns to his spot by Barnes. "In my professional opinion, Sergeant Barnes's new role is the most efficient and least cruel method of managing his particular situation."

"That's very interesting," Ross muses. "I'm surprised, agent. Especially as Barnes isn't the first Avenger with a - let's call it a 'complicated' history, shall we?"

He shifts, finally, trying to draw the man's attention to himself. "That's different," he says, low and rasping. "Despite what you think of me, the rest of the Avengers are no threat."

"Your surprise is noted," Ingrid says, dry. "If there's nothing else, Mister Secretary, I'll have to ask you to leave, so we can continue our meeting with the Sergeant."

Edited 2022-07-14 13:53 (UTC)

For the first time since he's met her, he feels a deep wave of appreciation for Agent Nilsson. He watches as Ross gives her a surprised look.

"Really?" the man asks. "I suggest you not test me, agent. I'm a busy man, and I've made time today to meet with Barnes myself. You can have your little touchy-feely chat after I'm done."

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