Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/5112176. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: F/M, M/M Fandom: The_Avengers_(Marvel)_-_All_Media_Types, Captain_America_-_All_Media Types Character: James_"Bucky"_Barnes, Steve_Rogers, Charles_Xavier_Lehnsherr, Tony_Stark, Thor_(Marvel), Natasha_Romanov, Clint_Barton, Bruce_Banner Additional Tags: Hydra_(Marvel), Child_Abuse, Past_Sexual_Abuse, Alcohol_Abuse/Alcoholism, Past_Abuse, noncon, Rape, Abuse, Post-Traumatic_Stress_Disorder_-_PTSD, Kidnapping, Time_Travel, Childhood_Trauma, Other_tags_to_be_added, The Author_Regrets_Nothing, The_Author_Regrets_Everything Series: Part 1 of The_Winters_Children Stats: Published: 2015-10-31 Updated: 2015-12-04 Chapters: 6/? Words: 2467 ****** Winters Children ****** by Ficker Summary The Soldier is unemotional. He only has his mission. His self set mission. Until he sees the two children. Blond. Blue eyed and thin. They remind him of someone. ((Takes place directly after Winter Soilder)) ***** Winters Eyes ***** The asset has no idea why he had stopped when he'd caught sight of them. The child and then infant. They were not part of his mission. They were nothing. But he'd stopped anyway. His current mission was self assigned. He had to do it at all costs. Protect Steve Rogers and fix what Hydra did to his mind. The children had nothing to do with that. He should move on. But he didn't. The older boy was blonde with shocking blue eyes. Hard blue eyes and scars. Scars and cuts all over. Chains on his wrists. Dirty. Infection. Blood. Young. Seven or so. Thin. Ratty hair. No shirt. The Soldier's brain started to catalog all that he was seeing. Like he had been trained. The infant was wrapped in red. A shirt. Blue eyes. Blonde. Red dimmed eyes. Filthy. Skinny. Wet eyes. It had been crying. The two had not seen him, on top of the building as he was. Looking at them in the warehouse. He should move on and he almost did. But then a memory hit him. ~ "Bucky? Hey... Did you get-" Whatever was going to be said next was drowned out by choking and wheezing. Bright blue eyes met his hopefully. Blonde hair and a thin face. A voice replied. "I'm sorry Steve. Sorry" Blue eyes. Sad blue eyes. "It's ok Buc-". Choking and wheezing. ~ The memory struck the Soldier. He didn't know where it had come from. Or who the skinny blonde man had been, but he reminded him of the two children. So he sat and thought. Something was wrong. The asset had never seen children in chains before. But his memory did not go back far. Maybe he had and did not remember it. A man entered the room with the children and grabbed the older one by his hair, lifting him up by it. It was with a practiced skill that as the boy was lifted he put the infant down. The man was big. Bigger than even the asset. But his movements were sloppy. The asset could take him out easily. The man's hand went to the child's throat and shook him as the boy struggled to speak. Then that man's other hand went lower. Lower... And the Soldier was moving, a knife in hand, jumping. Crashing through glass. Landing on cement. The knife left his hand. The man started to fall. He was dead. Then the asset was ripping the child out from under the falling man. There were no other threats, but still as the asset held the boy over his shoulder he moved and took the blooded knife back from the dead man's skull. The boy was not moving. But he was alive. The asset then lifted the infant. He said nothing. But he knew then and there that he had a new mission. Protect these children who looked like the man from his memory. Along with Steve Rogers. His mind could wait. ***** Winters sounds ***** Chapter Summary The sound the stomach makes means something. Chapter Notes I have no beta. The asset heard the boy's stomach as they sat. It was an odd sound and it had meaning. But the asset had forgotten what ever that meaning was. Or maybe he had never known. He was not sure. But it was not vital. The asset had taken the two back to the base he had made. It was just an abandoned bomb shelter like structure underground. But it was dry and had good ventilation. It also had lighting. Going against it, it only had one entrance and exit. It also only was one room. He would need to move them. Find a place warmer, with more exits. The baby was fussing. It then started to cry. The asset noticed the sound was weak. The infant was unwell. He could tell that. But... How did one perform maintenance on an infant? He thought, hard. A very distant thought came to him. Of a bottle with white liquid inside it. Infants drank. Milk. Children drank. They also ate. He knew that somehow. The two needed to eat. His own stomach made a sound. That sound it meant the need to eat. After a few more moments the asset got up, grabbing a jacket he had stolen. He also grabbed a hat. Looking back at the two children he thought. The elder child would be a liability. But the infant might be a good disguise. He lifted the infant. He then left. The older boy was still chained. But the asset still pushed a few large pieces of metal over the entrance to the shelter. Finding the child again would be troublesome. It would also be bad on his part. He needed to keep the boy safe. If he left the asset could not assure his safety. He then left with the infant to go get the milk and food. ***** Winters Market ***** Chapter Summary Winter goes to the store. People are staring. The winter soldier realizes then and there that he hates supermarkets and that an infant is a shitty disguise. The staring causes him to imagine tearing them all to pieces. But he knows he can't take them all and get supplied before the police would arrive. It would also put the infant in danger. Instead, he glares back, as if he were daring them until the people look away. People are easily scared. He'd have to remember that. The asset then moves around the store, infant in one hand and basket in the other. His metal hand still has a leather glove on it. No one can see, but he still checks it periodically. No one can see. After some searching he finds a section with babies on the logos. America always has so many logos. It's stupid, but also helpful at time. It helped him find the section He then puts the basket down, putting the infant in it. It starts to cry, but he ignored it, reading the labels on the containers. He doesn't think the baby is old enough to eat cookies. He moves on. This time he is holding baby food. It looks better. He reads it. It is for stage 1. 4-6 months. The asset looked down at the baby, then back at the food. He did not know the infant's age. He needed more information. "Do you need some help dear?" A voice asked. There was an old woman, looking at him. He stares and she pushes her cart over. "Here. This is the one you need". She grabs a white box and hands it over. "I take it the baby's mother is not about." She states. "Just got him? Well, lift him up. Can't have that crying. Never was one for ferberizing. Barbaric. Infants need to be coddled. God made them that way". She said. The old woman then handed him a bottle and some nibs. The Winter soldier followed her instructions by sheer habit. The lifting of the infant was long forgotten motor memory. "You don't talk much, do you sonny? I like that in a man. What else do you need? Come on, spit it out". She said as she leaned on a stick. "I have to buy food". He stated. After 20 or so minutes he had far more than he thought he needed. Who needed razors? But he was out the door and down the road before he realised he should have killed her. To avoid leaks. ***** Winters training ***** Chapter Notes Wanna know a secret? Read bottom note. See the end of the chapter for more notes He was dropping into the shelter, eyes already searching out the older child. The boy had not moved. His eyes looked dead. He didn't even look up at the soldier. Was he deaf? Broken? The soldier did not know. It was troubling. He ignored it. It was not vital. He moved on, carrying the infant and groceries to the corner. That corner was coldest. It had frost on occasion. He then read the formula instructions. He could not heat the bottle. Was that vital? He would need to fix that in the next shelter. But for now he took a water bottle and formula, mixing it. He then poured it into the bottle. Things had an order and objects had a purpose. The bottles was to feed the baby. He then offered it to the infant. Heat was not vital. The infant latched onto the source of nourishment. He started to move to a warmer location of the shelter. As he moved he looked at the boy and he grabbed a meal replacement shake. He had chosen that by himself. It promised to be easy to digest. He then held it out to the older boy. The boy looked up and his eyes went wide, before he snatched it, pulling it tight to him and looking desperate as he opened it and started to guzzle, as if he feared it being taken. Maybe it had in the past. The boy might have been in training. Maybe those had that him were making a solider. He would never be a soldier. The soldier would make sure of that. He looked at that chain he had not removed and his brows furrowed. He should remove that when he was around. He could watch the child when he was here. "State your name and purpose". The boy jerked and his eyes crossed over the assets face before he swallowed and looked away. The asset thought he might not reply for a moment. "It's Charles... Lehnsherr... Sir." The boy muttered, shoulders hunched up and tense as he held that can protectively. "My purpose is..." The boy struggled there, shivering a little. "Is... Whatever you deem-" the asset held up a hand. The child was withholding information. He could tell. "What is your purpose? Withholding information. Is. Lying". It was hard for the asset to speak. He prefered to be told or use his fists. But he also did know simple oral interrogation. The boy bit his lip and then he shuddered. But he was scared. Not as scared as someone who had not been interrogated before though. The soldier noted that. "Tension relief and... Doing what I... Am told". The child was older than seven something told the Soldier. His... Reasoning. "What are you told?" The asset did not need the other purpose explained. "Umm. To stand... Still. For a long time..." He started, listing. "To sit. To stand. Then sit. Then stand. Over and over again..." "Err... Hold things. Move places... Stop... Go... Things like that" the boy said. The things seemed to confuse him. "Obedience training" the asset supplied. An odd form of it, but none the less. That might make the child easier to deal with thankfully. More trustworthy. The asset approved. "Hold out your wrists". Chapter End Notes I sometimes withhold my updates until I get a comment or a certain number of kudos. ***** Winters eyes ***** Chapter Summary Misunderstandings and fear. The asset does not understand. Nether does Charles. It had been a few days and the soldier fell into a routine. It was simple. It was easy. He woke up, fed the baby. He changed the baby and washed it. He then fed the boy and gave him water. Then he fed himself. Two or so more feelings of the baby took place. Then lunch. After that he left to go and look for a new shelter, to shop and/or steal money. The infant was left with Charles. The asset then came back and fed Charles dinner. Two more feelings for the baby and a new diaper, then bed. Nighttime had a schedule too. He was still trying to figure out the exact schedule of the infant's hunger. It was troublesome. The asset remembered learning that infants should not be held or coddled. It made them into brats. Needing constant attention. It was 1930’s logic and it was outdated. But the Soldier did not know that and it was his safest reference point.   -------------------- It was after dinner and the infant was asleep when he noticed that Charles was shaking. His teeth chattering from cold. He needed to fix that. He could not let the boy get sick. Sickness was bad. The man from his memory had gotten sick. The asset had held him close as coughs shook his form. Sickness was deadly. It needed to be fought off. The asset never failed his missions. Sickness would be assassinated before it could strike. “Come over here boy”. The look in the blue eyes was scared and Charles tensed, before he walked over, head hung low and dropped to his knees before the asset. The boy then reached for the assets pants. “No” the asset grabbed the kid's hands. He did not want that. The boy flinched and looked up again, before starting to shake. “Please. Please… I…” He struggled and tried to pull his hands free. “No”. The asset did not want that. The asset disliked that. The child was being confusing and invasive. His grip got tighter. “No”. The panic got worse and the boy started to thrash and then he screamed, loudly, lashing out at the asset. The infant woke up, crying. The asset subdued the child before he managed to injure himself or anger the baby more. His mind working fast. He would not do that with the boy. He disliked it and he did not have too. He was stronger. He could stop it. He then lifted the boy up and started towards the side, picking up the chain he had gotten with the child. The boy needed to be punished. The asset needed to think of an appropriate punishment. To stop that from happening. His eyes caught a thin, long piece of electrical cord in the light. ***** Winters Breath ***** Chapter Summary Whistling baby and red welts “AHHH!!” The scream was loud, but brief. It was followed by muffled crying. “ACHK!” The asset did not slow or stop with the punishment. The boy was being loud. That was unacceptable. He needed to learn to be silent. The noise did not trouble the asset. It was just wrong. It took around 12 hits in total before the boy turned silent. It was only then that the punishment stopped. Restraint was a skill the asset possessed. The welts on the boy's back, while red and painful, did not cut and bruising was minimal. The asset then undid the chains from the boy's wrists. He should get the child a shirt. ************************** It was a few hours later that the asset woke suddenly. Charles was asleep next to him. The infant was asleep. This put the asset on high alert and he rose, silently. The night was still, the children breathing. What had awoken him? He listened closely and then his blood ran cold as he heard it. And he did a one eighty turn. There was a very slight whistle in the breathing of the infant. A whistle. He rushed over and nearly felt his heart stop. Blue. The baby's lips and fingertips were blue. He lifted the infant and found that he was limp. HE COULD NOT BREATH. The rush into action was automatic. He needed help, immediately. He needed the blond man. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!