12. Sins Of The Father 11

Steve knew that as things stood, he was being more of a liability to the team than a functioning member of it, but unless they could flush out the Winter Soldier he was stuck in the middle of the mess. After the disaster of a mission with the Doombots, Steve knew that was going to have to finesse his team a little bit more carefully than he had been, if only because he had underestimated their collective protective instinct. It was flattering, but he wasn't a 110 pound asthmatic anymore, and he really could take care of himself when he needed too.

First, though, Steve knew he had to mend fences with Tony. It always unsettled him when they fought, and reminded him of the times when Bucky had gotten tired of his stubborn streak and threatened to walk out on their friendship. Bucky never did, of course, and Steve suspected Tony wouldn't either, but Steve still felt like he needed to put things right if only so he wouldn't stay up half the night filling up another sketchbook with his nightmares.

He asked JARVIS to order a few pizzas, including Tony's favorite, then showed up outside of Tony's workshop with them in his hands as a peace offering. Tony glared at him as he walked in but didn't chase him out.

"An apology," Steve said formally, putting the pizzas on a small free space on the workbench Tony was at.

Tony's lips twitched. "It would probably be good form to ask you to stay and eat them with me."

"Probably."

"So sit down already," Tony said, waving at a random stool. Steve dragged it over and they sat eating in silence for a while.

"I do appreciate you taking the time to save my life, Tony. I'm not ungrateful. I'm just frustrated by this whole situation," Steve said after he finished his Hawaiian-style pie.

Tony nodded. "I get that. Believe me, I get that. Thing is, not much we can do about it right now."

"I'm thinking about how we can flush him out. Lure him in to the open, drop a net on him, something," Steve sat back, crossing his arms. He caught the way Tony's eyes wandered over him, the kind of look Steve had seen a lot of men get at the bath houses and had himself gotten more than a few times during the USO tour. He dutifully kept his own eyes on the wall opposite him.

Tony nodded, but then shook his head. "The complete file on the Winter Soldier is thick, really fucking thick. Goes back to 1953. For all of that, it doesn't contain a single photo — generic descriptions, height and weight and he only has one arm. Might be a brunette or a very unnatural blond. No photos."

Steve understood what Tony was saying. If they couldn't even capture the guy on film, there was no way he was going to slip up and let SHIELD nab him. "This is going to be a problem for the team."

"Yeah, well, today wasn't our finest hour. But we needed you out there, Cap, your our leader and you're, well, Captain America. Even tripping you up barely slowed you down. If Coulson had pulled you from the field we'd probably still be out there trying to stop those damn robots." Tony sighed. It was the first time Tony had referred to Steve as their team leader without a trace of sarcasm, and Steve wallowed in that victory privately for a moment.

"Whoever is orchestrating this is being careful, though. That might work to our advantage." Steve turned the idea over in his head. "We basically know when the Winter Soldier will show up, and who his target is-"

"If this plan is about making you into some kind of bait, I'm vetoing it right now," Tony said, his voice thick with anger. Steve looked up at him in surprise. Tony turned away to pick up some gadget but not fast enough to hide his blush.

"Tony," Steve started, but Tony shook his head.

"No. He's too good, Steve. You heard Natasha, she's scared shitless of him even if she won't admit that out loud. Anyone who can set her nerves on edge is someone we have to take very seriously, and I'm not letting you put your life on the line like that."

"Letting me? Tony, our lives are on the line every time we assemble."

"This is different."

"Not really."

"Damn it!" Tony threw the gadget and it hit the wall, breaking into pieces. "Yes, it is! Get it through your head, Steve: you're important." Tony leaned forward, his hands on the table in front of him. "Hell it hurts to even say that. I hated you for years, hated you like you were the perfect older brother I could never match. Dad worshiped you."

Steve kept his mouth shut tight. This was part of Howard's history as much as it was Tony's, and even if Steve didn't want to hear it or Tony had his facts wrong about what kind of 'friend' Steve was to his father, Tony had a right to speak about it unimpeded.

"I mean it. He's the one who got that Rogers Memorial Wing established at the Smithsonian. He leased the licensing rights from the Army in 1955, did you know that? All the memorabilia, the comics, the fucking movies — that was all Dad. Hell he could have given up weapons manufacturing and still been rich just on you."

"Seems excessive? I don't know what to tell you, Tony. He was a good friend."

"I'm telling you that I understand why." Tony stood up and a chill went down Steve's spine, wondering if Tony had figured out his secret. He held himself still, waiting for the next blow.

Tony sighed. "I understand why because I finally met you myself. You're…hell, you're all of it. The myth, the man, the legend. I get it. You're special, there is literally no one who can come close to the man you are."

"You said it on the helicarrier, Tony: it's all out of a bottle," Steve said, equal parts relieved that Tony had not sussed out his secret but also weary of the hero-worship that everyone seemed to fall into around him.

Tony squinted at him, as if untangling a problem. "No, I was wrong. The body, yes, and all that comes with it, yes. That is thanks to Erskine and Dad. But see, Erskine chose you for a reason, and that has nothing to do with your deep baby blues," Tony pointed at his face and Steve tried not to blush. "It's because you are an amazing human being. You're smart, honest, loyal, fierce, protective, and a lot of other positive-sounding adjectives that I'm sure your fans already rave about at length. Celebrity crushes are a dime a dozen but when it comes to you, it's all gold-plated truth: you're a good man. And if we lose you…if I lose you, if I fuck something up and let you get killed, then the whole world loses something important." Tony sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I was ready to hate you on sight, and I did. I tried to keep hating you after we met, after we became Avengers, but you…you're better than that, Steve. You're a better man and you drag me up to your level, kicking and screaming. At this point, I know why Dad kept looking for you. If something like that happened today, I'd spend every dime I have trying to find you."

Steve sat, staring at Tony, unable to form words. His shock must have shown on his face, because Tony shrugged.

"I'm not one to talk people up, so take it while you can get it. I'm just saying, you're not putting yourself out there as bait for the Winter Soldier on my watch."

"I think I am anyway," Steve finally got out, his brain still trying to parse Tony's crazy declaration.

"True. Hell." Tony practically fell down onto his chair. "Honestly, Steve, if he's as good as everyone says he is, I'm not sure why you aren't already dead." He tipped his head up to stare at the ceiling.

Steve sat up straight as the comment hit him. "Because he's not trying to kill me."

"What?" Tony looked at him in confusion for less than a second before the penny dropped. "Shit! JARVIS, where's Agent?"

"He's retired to his apartment, Sir. I am unsure of his current activity."

"Well break in, I don't care if he's banging his archer over the kitchen table, I need him here. Now."

"I'll pass along the message, Sir," JARVIS said primly and Steve tried not to smile.

"Only you could make an AI that sasses you, Tony."

Tony paused. "Yeah, Dad never liked it when I gave things personality," he said, his movements guarded and his expression wary.

"No, Howard didn't mess around like that. He ran a tight ship. Which was great, but I like JARVIS."

Tony's smile was incandescent, as if Steve had just won a gold medal. "See? I knew you were a man of good taste."

Steve spun on the stool, proud of himself for a moment, while Tony pulled something up on one of the holoscreens. A couple of minutes later, Coulson and Barton showed up.

"My coq au vin has exactly 23 minutes left and then I still have to do the sauce reduction, so this better be fucking good, Stark." Barton sniped, standing with his arms crossed. Coulson, dressed in worn jeans and a floppy sweater, actually rolled his eyes. Steve wondered if he had suddenly landed in an alternative universe.

"The Winter Soldier has missed more shots than he's taken," Tony said simply, staring at Coulson.

Coulson and Barton both looked taken aback. Barton glanced in confusion at Coulson.

"That's impossible. The Winter Soldier doesn't miss," Coulson finally said.

Steve nodded. "Except for the fact that he has, every time he's taken a shot at me."

"And we didn't even pick up on that because we were all thinking about him like a regular, off-the-rack assassin. Of course Steve's hard to hit, especially when the rest of the Avengers are working to make sure of it. But!" Tony snapped his fingers. "This is not just anyone. This is the Winter Soldier—"

Coulson held up his hand and Tony actually stopped.

"JARVIS, get Natasha here. Now," Coulson said simply. Within two minutes Natasha walked in. Coulson filled her in and she looked for a long time at the pages displayed on the screen in front of her, although it was clear she wasn't actually reading them.

Finally, she nodded slowly, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "I agree. He's not trying to kill Rogers."

Steve rolled his shoulders. "You guys realize this makes no sense, right? If his job is to NOT kill me during a battle, then why even show up? Stay home and sleep in, take a vacation. That would be easier."

"Allow me," Tony said with a small bow towards Coulson, then turned to Steve. "The reason you accept a contract, show up, and then do a shitty job is because you want the money but you can't do the work."

"Speaking from experience?"

Tony shifted one shoulder up in a half-hearted shrug. "Time honored tradition with military contracts. Half the time Stark Industries was called in as Mr. Fix-it when the former contractor—and I'm not naming names, but I'm talking about Hammer—couldn't actually manufacture the product the military paid for."

Steve nodded because it seemed not much had changed since 1945. "Right, so the Winter Soldier shows up, takes a few close shots, enough to convince his employer that he's trying really hard, and then banks the money."

"The real question is, why won't he take the shot?" Barton said. Everyone turned to him. "Look, you guys know my history, so I'm telling you from a professional capacity that he probably only got half the money upfront, and won't get the other half until Steve's brains are on the sidewalk. So trust me, in that situation, you have a lot of motivation not to fuck around. He's wasting his own money and more importantly, his reputation, to not take a shot we all know he could take." He shrugged. "You can't tell me it's because he's sentimental about Captain America."

Natasha sighed. "Perhaps."

Phil blinked at her slowly. "Something else here that you conveniently managed to forget until now?" His voice was sharp, striking at Natasha like a whip. Steve almost cringed in sympathy, but she seemed impervious. She turned to Steve instead of answering Coulson.

"He knows you."

"Everyone knows Steve, Nat. In case you missed it? He's Captain America." Clint waved a hand around.

She shook her head. "He has a heart of stone. He could be kind, and funny, and he was handsome; he was charming, and he made you want to trust him. When I was a child, I adored him." She ground her teeth for a second. "But he is all lies, and he loves nothing and no one. He is a master at playing games, so there is nothing obvious that we can see of his motives here. But he knows you, and you know him, and that might be affecting his decisions."

Steve crossed his arms. "You either explain this to us now, or I'm requesting Fury to haul you in for questioning."

She gave him a nasty look before turning to look up, which was everyone's default position when addressing JARVIS. "Please show us an image of Bucky Barnes."

"What?!?!" Steve's stomach dropped.

A clean black and white photo of Bucky, taken by one of the combat photographers that had trailed after the Commandos for a while, materialized before them. Natasha's shoulders actually slumped in a rare display of vulnerability. "This is the Winter Soldier."

"No." Steve stood up. "This isn't even funny, Agent Romanoff, and I will be filing a complaint—"

"It's him!" She yelled at Steve, and the room went quiet. Taking a deep breath she pointed at the picture. "I know that face. I know that man. I will never forget him, whether I want to or not. He was our hero and our nightmare. He loved us and destroyed us. I…" She trailed off and wrapped her arms around herself. Clint walked over to her slowly and put his arm around her shoulders. She let him, but stood stiff and uncomfortable in his hold.

"He died in 1945." Steve shook his head. "There's no way he could have survived—" He broke off, staring at the picture. "No. Oh, no."

"Captain?" Coulson broke the extended silence.

"The super soldier serum," Steve said, horror washing over him.

"Barnes was not a part of that program." Coulson sounded confused.

"No, he wasn't. But he…we never put it in our report. We never talked about it." Steve collapsed on the stool, confusion and shock coursing through him like a heat wave, making him unsteady. He felt a hand on his neck, soothing and calm, and looked up at Tony.

"What didn't you report, Steve?" Tony asked quietly.

It seemed easier to admit their secret to Tony, as opposed to most of his team, so he kept his gaze on Tony as he talked. "When I rescued him from Schmidt's stronghold, he wasn't in the containment cages with everyone else. He was…God help us, he was in one of the laboratories. Strapped down to a table. He was whole but worked over, burning up with fever. I half carried him out." Steve took a deep breath. "By the time we were walking back to camp, he was fine. He walked into camp on his own power, fully armed, fresh as a damn daisy."

"Shit."

Everyone looked at Phil, who covered his mouth sheepishly. Clint rolled his eyes and shook his head. Phil coughed to clear his throat. "You're saying Schmidt may have administered the serum to him."

Steve nodded. "They did something to him. We never talked about it, and honestly I never saw any noticeable changes in him. He never got seriously injured during our raids with the Howling Commandos, so I would not have noticed accelerated healing or anything like that. I just assumed I got him out of that laboratory before they did anything."

"But it's possible you didn't," Tony offered gently, his fingers still rubbing circles against Steve's skin.

"If—if!—Natasha is right, and Bucky is the Winter Soldier, there is no other explanation." Steve leaned into Tony's hand, past caring if anyone noticed.

"Doesn't explain his age, though." Phil frowned. "You age, Captain. A little more slowly than the rest of us, but not significantly. You will get old, eventually."

"They kept him in cryogenic storage," Natasha said, her voice raw. "They only brought him out when they needed him for a job, or training. It was one reason for the extreme brainwashing they used on him. We all knew it, that he sometimes fought going back under. That sometimes he remembered too much. We found it terrifying, to think they would do that to us." Natasha sidled in closer to Clint. "I think, for some of us, they did. Not me, I was too young. But…yes, some of us, perhaps."

The fever in Steve's blood dropped into an icy cold. "Natasha…was he, did he?" He was not even sure what he was asking, but she looked at him with understanding in her eyes.

"He didn't know who he was, outside of what they told him. He liked to be called Yakov, but no one knew if that was his real name or just an affectation."

"Yakov is 'James' in Russian, right?" Tony asked.

Natasha nodded. "James is the Anglicized version of Jacob. Jacob, Yakov." She shrugged.

Steve almost felt like crying or hitting something or both. "He hated anyone calling him James."

Natasha pulled herself together. "He did age some. I would have put him in his late-thirties. But yes, the cryogenic storage kept him young, much as being frozen in the ice did the same for you."

Steve bit down on his hysterics. It was unmanly to fall apart over the idea that his best friend (and lover, he selfishly screamed at himself) had lived, but only to be brainwashed and tortured and sent out as a ruthless, soulless weapon. Given how Tony's hand tightened on him, holding his neck as if trying to keep Steve from jumping out of his skin, he didn't think he was particularly successful at hiding his emotions. He took a deep breath.

"We need to bring him in alive."

Clint snorted. "Sure, and I want a pony."

Natasha cuffed his head. "You had plenty of ponies as a boy in the circus."

"Don't get all Russian on me, you know what I meant." Clint let go of her and crossed his arms. "Look, since this started Fury has been pulling us in to run scenarios on how to do just that, bring the Winter Soldier in alive, but trust me, none of them end with him breathing."

Coulson nodded. "I assure you, Captain, bringing him in alive is a priority. Just unlikely."

"Sure, if he were human," Tony said, walking over to his desk. "But he's not. If he's working off the super soldier serum, then the only way to kill him is blow him to pieces, or decapitation."

Steve cringed. "Tony—"

"What I'm saying is, no one has really tried hard enough because they thought that hard enough would kill him. Look, if Steve went rogue, what would it take to bring him down?"

"A Hulk tranq," Clint answered promptly, and Steve frowned. It made sense that Fury would have contingency plans in place for that scenario, but he'd never thought about it before. Clint kept talking. "Even that only has a projected effectiveness factor of thirteen minutes. We'd have to get adamantium restraints on him in that time frame. He would still be dangerous, but a mobile cryogenic unit could be called in within twenty-five minutes, if we're talking the east coast." He glanced over at Steve. "Sorry."

Steve shook his head. "No apologies necessary, soldier."

"Oh for fuck's sake," Tony sighed. "My point is that it can be done."

"The real issue is how much we lose by trying." Coulson looked at Steve again. "He's not trying to kill you. Chances are he's taken the contract because someone really does want you dead, and wants it to look like a by-product of an Avengers Mission. The Winter Sold—Barnes knows he can convincingly 'miss' his shots and keep you alive. If we pull him in his employer will just go hire someone else."

Clint shrugged. "If we pull him in we can extract the information about who hired him."

"Not if he doesn't want you to." Natasha snorted, tipping her head back and closing her eyes.

"He can't delay forever. At some point he has to take the shot." Tony turned to Coulson. "If he was that damn interested in keeping Steve alive, he could just send us an email with the name of the asshole who hired him. He's an infamous assassin known the world over for his brilliance and perfect markmanship, so don't tell me he doesn't have Steve's addy in his contacts list."

Steve's head throbbed as the complex reasons that Bucky would play that kind of game unfurled like a web around him. He rubbed his temples with his thumbs. "Stark has a point. Bucky's got to pull the trigger or bow out. He's playing it this way for reason. The better option is to throw him off his game."

"Do you have any idea what he might be thinking?" Coulson asked, and it was all Steve could to not to break out in laughter.

"Do not make the mistake that this is Bucky Barnes." Natasha's voice hit them all hard and true. "He is not that person. He doesn't think like an American, he is a product of the Red Room. He is ruthless and cunning and a deceiver. He's playing two ends against the middle and we don't know who any of the players are."

"You yourself said he might be holding back because he remembers Steve," Coulson said.

She shook her head once. "That doesn't mean he isn't using that very fact as part of his plan."

"Well, shit, Nat — that's pretty fucking complicated." Clint laughed caustically.

"He was the measure against which we were held. He loved us dearly, he bought us candy, he killed my best friend by breaking her neck when we were ten." She faced Steve with a snarl on her face. "You trust him, and he will kill us all."

Steve recoiled, horrified, but Tony stepped towards her, seemingly unfazed. "You think his end game is the Avengers?"

"I'm saying we don't know much of anything, and everything we do know can be used against us."

After a long moment of complete stillness, Coulson spoke up. "Stark, you zeroed in on the Winter Soldier before."

Tony nodded. "Yes. He registered as a normal human with only one arm. His tech didn't show up, which I think is probably a bigger problem. But yes, I can find him. In fact now that JARVIS has his vitals tagged, I'll be able to ping him as soon as he's in radius of the suit's sensors."

"I always carry two Hulk tranqs on me. Banner's request." Clint shrugged. "If I know where to aim, I can take the Winter Soldier down."

"It is a risk; we don't know for a fact that he's working off the super soldier serum." Coulson looked conflicted, his arms folded and a worried crease to his brow. "If we're wrong and nail him with that level of tranquilizers, he'll be dead before he hits the ground."

"I once saw him jump from a four story building, resulting in a compound fracture of his left femur. He was walking normally within 48 hours." Natasha was still staring at the wall.

Steve turned to Phil. "Sounds like he is."

Phil studied him for a moment. "If we're wrong, we'll be killing Bucky Barnes."

Steve felt more than heard the room go silent. Tony's eyes flicked between them, icy and cold with a scientist's understanding of impact, while Natasha refused to look at any of them. Steve turned to Clint. "Next time we're out, if you get a shot, take it. Take him down."

"Cap—" Tony started, but Steve waved him off.

"It's a risk we have to take. At this point, it's him or me." No one moved to stop him as Steve got up and walked out on steady legs.