Chapter Text
Bucky had good days and bad days. The whole compound knew it, but after the last mission, the days turned into weeks. The Winter Soldier ruled his thoughts and actions, they’d had to lock him in a modified version of the Hulk prison. Steve would watch him pace back and forth for hours, muttering things in broken Russian. There were seconds of lucidity, Bucky would murmur one thing “солнышко моё”
“There’s no reference to a sun or a little sun or Bucky having any agency under Hydra.” Tony rambled on, “JARVIS has no idea what he’s blabbering about either. It’s all gibberish; mission failure, sunshine, blah, blah, blah.”
“Do you think the reason he can’t gain back control is because our last mission was unsuccessful?” Bruce asked, tired eyes shifting between the other Avengers.
“We know what would happen when the asset failed, but what happens when he succeeded?” Natasha looked at Steve.
“No, Nat, we aren’t doing that.”
It’s exactly what they did. One of the things they’d promised Bucky when he moved into the compound was to give him his privacy, a space to call his own and have complete control over it, and they had just broken it in an attempt to help him. He and Natasha searched the room for anything that could help them understand what was happening. Both of them had to read his journal, some of it written in Bucky's neat script and while other passages were written in scribbled frantic Russian. Steve rationalized it, they had no choice. He was refusing food and getting even more violent. Tony had to spray a sedative into the room at one point when he nearly broke his metal arm and the glass. No one had ever seen him like this, assuming Hydra would wipe him and put him in deep freeze at this point. But that wasn’t an option, Bucky was a valuable member of the team, both on and off the field. He was meticulous in his reports and the best sharpshooter on the team. They needed him back.
So they went looking for sunshine, what or who that might be. Both Bucky and Winter Soldier wrote about it, Bucky of guilt and the Winter Soldier of anger, both of them felt lost. The Avengers set off in three-man teams to take out different Hydra bases; interrogating agents, hacking computer systems, stealing old files. They weren't optimistic, with how little information they had to start with, but Steve did his best to rally the teams, going so far as to offer a glimmer of hope that whatever this was might be will make Bucky better. But even he started to lose hope after meeting dead end after dead end. Until Natasha and Tony stumble upon a video of you being tossed to the proverbial wolves. Innocent, scared-looking you being thrown into a large cell filled with men, only for the Asset to be released on them, murdering them all right in front of you. Some of the videos date back to the 50s, others the 70s, you seemed to only be a few years younger than Bucky, barely aging at all in each video.
It took three months to track you down. Not too long considering everything, but it was three long months of imprisonment for Bucky. He couldn’t be trusted to think rationally, to not hurt others, or run away. It hurt Steve to see him like this, to see you in a similar condition was just as heartbreaking. They had to defrost you, hook you up to the cradle while you came to before they’d even think about showing you to the Winter Soldier.
But you didn’t give them much of a choice in it. An afternoon meeting interrupted by a disturbance in the medical bay caused the whole facility to go into lockdown. You woke up. You were erratic, terrified, and on your own kind of mission. Your cries for your soldat, your moon, echoed through the security feeds. Your bare feet slapped against the tile floors and anyone who came in contact with you was considered a threat. You were running in circles, the medical staff closing in on you. From the footage Tony pulled up, they could see how the Winter Soldier reacted. He could hear you, but you couldn't hear him through the glass. His body slammed against the glass, desperate to get out, to get to you.
“Release him,” Tony ordered.
“No.”
Steve was certain this would end with blood, whose he wasn’t sure. They didn't know how the Winter Soldier would react to seeing you. Tony didn’t listen though, he opened the glass prison and they all watched the Winter Soldier stalk out of the prison. He heard your cries, his head tilting to the side and listening. He hunted you down like prey. Steve can only just tell the difference between the echoes of your voice. The shield at his back weighing heavily on his shoulders. He just hoped this wouldn’t end with more blood on their hands, he couldn't stomach the thought of Bucky doing something horrible when he had no control.
The team watched as the winter soldier stalked the empty corridors, a distinct difference from your frantic running. You both moved in towards one another, you shouting and Bucky following. It’s was like you’d done this before. The way your voice rang out in set intervals, the way Bucky seemed to know how you would run around a maze. They watched you get closer and closer until they only had to stare at one screen. Everyone was surprised when you stared each other down, they expected some sort of explosion - either of joy or rage, but the caution, the concern, the fear that one of you wasn’t real was almost palpable.
“солнышко моё,” Bucky’s voice was barely over a whisper, barely able to be heard through Stark’s expensive security.
Your gasp was audible, but Bucky’s steps weren’t. He moved like a ghost until his metal hand was able to brush your cheek. Steve couldn’t believe what he was seeing. No one was truly comfortable being touched by his metal hand, not with how you seemed to lean into it, seemed to crave it.
"Soldat, soldat," you whispered, pressing your face into his hand, willing him to do something. "I am sorry."
"You have us, my little sun, forever."
“James,” your weak sob would haunt the team. The anxiety, the trauma you had endured for him was obvious, but no one would forget the Winter Soldier wailing. The way he cried into your shoulder, clung to you, letting you take his weight and hold him. He showed his weakness.
You were his sun and he was your moon.