i'm a big fan.

“No, that was all Mr. Barnes. I told him where it was, when I came to. Figured that was a mess that was...best left unavoided.” For all of them. It had been for selfish reasons, certainly, as well as thinking of the hell that would’ve rained down on the heroes that had taken him in as well. The situation was complicated and muddy, beginning right then and there with his decision to tell Mr. Barnes where the tracker was. “I think they sent it off, somewhere, to throw the trail.” Which would’ve infuriated Mr. Colt and the rest of his handlers, a thought that had RJ’s jaw tensing slightly just at the image that came to mind. “It’s my assumption that they would’ve, yeah. It was a failed mission, and they don’t have time for failures. Can’t train out failure, there’s no room for it.” From what he’d been told by his handlers and the others that had trained him, there hadn’t been much of a life at all for RJ before Hydra - worthless, discarded like trash, this being his chance to be worthwhile and to amount to something. So - he shook his head once, maybe a little sharply. “Not much, no. Hard to distiguish what’s real from what the fabricated. Makes it difficult.”

RJ couldn’t help the smile that started spreading slowly across his face. “I can see why people seem so eager to follow you, sir.” That had been something that hadn’t translated through text, in case files, in old footage he’d seen: Cap could give one hell of a pep talk, and RJ could only imagine how inspiring those could be at the proper time. Inspiration, rather than fear and manipulation - a new idea, though one he could see the merit of. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind. Definitely something to think on.” And he had...a lot of time, to do that. An interest in doing what’s right. That was...a complicated concept, considering doing what was right for his handlers was damn near exactly opposite of doing what was right in this context. A line to toe, new rules and expectations to learn. Complicated. “I was kept in the dark mostly,” he admitted after a moment, with something a sigh. Literally, figuratively, and every way in between. “Need-to-know basis, and I didn’t often make that cut. It was mostly lights out except for training; the only information I was fed was mission-specific. Wouldn’t be much help in terms of getting information about their operations.” He hesitated, for a moment, before continuing: “...I could give information, maybe, on old jobs I was assigned to? Might not be any help, but it could shed some light with information you have on your end already.” The offer Cap laid out had RJ blinking, quiet for a moment and offering only a nod in response. “That...sounds good to me, sir. Sounds like a plan. Thank you.”

“It was necessary,” RJ began, shaking his head with a wave of his arm. “Not a big deal.” He’d endured worse, magnitudes worse, and to be honest he’d been mostly in and out with what had to have been a nasty concussion at the time. “Otherwise it would’ve led to my handlers coming straight to your doorstep - big mess, and I didn’t want that.” He was still working through the why of that. Had it been a sudden burst of compassion, or perhaps self preservation considering he’d failed in his mission? A slight ray of hope, like sunlight filtering in through almost sheer curtains that he hadn’t been able to resist? He still wasn’t sure, had settled on something of a combination of all of the above. “It’s fine now, truly - healed up very quickly. One of the perks of the super soldier serum, I’m never down for long.” Her clarification was a little surprising - he was so used to being defined by what he was, but who he had been taken in by, that it felt strange to consider the same question asked in a different light. “I was ten. So..eleven years ago.” More than half of his life, which was...conflicting. Really, he had a hard time recalling much at all before Hydra and so it felt like his entire life. The years had been long, the days somehow longer. 

“Yeah, I can imagine.” And RJ really could, considering how little exposure to...much of anything (or as he was coming to realize) that he’d had for the past decade. Stuff from before that was starting to come back, in small little trickles in ways that surprised him - memories, he supposed, that his conditioning had been designed to suppress but time away from his handlers and his programming seemed to be aiding with that. “The majority of my education was tailored to fit their agenda - history, but I’d imagine a very ...limited view, military tactics, case files. You can imagine.” The best place to start is at the start. Surprisingly simple when stated like that, but maybe that was exactly the perspective he’d needed. “Yeah,” he began, clearing his throat a little. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.” Had to be better than the alternative, for certain. 

The I’m sorry weighed on him a little differently, and RJ took a moment to consider that. It may have been the first time he’d heard that, in regards to his circumstances. It felt strange, heavy and weighing down like sand, and he wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to linger on it. For so long, his life had been solely about survival. There was so little time to think or wallow or feel what he was experiencing, it was putting one foot in front of the other because that was the only path to survival...having time now, to think, to really think, was more curse than blessing. “I’m not exactly sure how need to know it all has been,” RJ admitted with a light shrug of his shoulders. “I haven’t met too many people, really. You. Captain Rogers. Mr. Barnes.”  The list was short, and RJ couldn’t help but wonder just how many of the heroes involved with their operation really knew there was a assassin in their basement. Her follow up question earned something resembling a smile, the corners of his lips ticking upward. “I heal quick. Nothing too bad. Cut out my tracker, but that was necessary.”  There hadn’t been time for games during his time with Hydra, and admittedly he didn’t really remember much from before. There were flashes now that he was away from his handlers and from their programming and conditioning, mostly serving as dreams that he couldn’t discern from fiction or reality, but things like video games certainly didn’t make the list. “I’d certainly give it a go, if it’s available. You don’t need to go out of your way or anything, I’m sure you’re busy.” And he was happy with any ways he found to pass the time, really. Her next question earned a slightly raised brow, and RJ took a moment to ponder. “Do you mean how long was I with Hydra?

RJ let the question hang between them for a moment, thick like fog and heavily weighing on the silence. She didn’t know, not yet, but that would change regardless of his answer here: most everyone in this place knew, he was sure there were case files and everything else that would give her all of the answers she needed. Would it be better, coming from him? Probably not, but maybe it would help his standing if he was honest. Couldn’t hurt, either way, from where he was standing, on this side of the glass. “I’m the second Winter Soldier. Part of the revitalized program by Hydra, the only surviving member of my class.” He could barely remember the others - they’d been around so briefly, deemed as failures, used as training material or discarded like trash. “I was trained to replace the original, Mr. Barnes. Well, to replace and then eliminate him, which is what landed me here. Finally had a chance to bite at that mission, it was a swing and a miss. Mr. Barnes brought me back here,” he gestured widely to the cell arounf him. “That’s the condensed version, anyway. Bit more complicated than that, but you get the gist.” RJ’s eyes focused on her hands, the two little animated dogs appearing and rolling on her palms. He listened with wide eyes fixed on her hands, looking back only to her face when the dogs vanished. “Is that what they look like? Is that what the game is like?” He nodded at her hands. 

... “I think at this point, it’s all I know how to do.” RJ paused for a moment there, fingers lightly drumming on the cover of the book he was still holding in his lap. “Fight, I mean. It’s all I’ve ever really done.” There had been so much fighting, so much death and destruction and blood on his hands. So much blood that he was practically drowning in it, could feel it surrounding him and lapping at him like ocean waves, sinking and going under. “Running wasn’t ever really an option. If it was, I think I may have run, too. I don’t think anyone could blame you for that.” Anything was better than the experiences they shared under Hydra’s control - the programming, the brainwashing, the training, the fighting, the blood. “I think I’m trying to make up for it, too. I’m just not really sure where to start. Kind of hard to figure out, you know.” Back to the books, and RJ drummed his fingers against the cover one more time as he mulled over the question. “I liked this one,” he said, holding up the copy of the Hobbit that was sitting on his nightstand. “I’d never read anything fantastical like this, about magic and different worlds. Definitely interesting. The theme at the center of it hits close to home, too.” 

“That’s probably for the best,” RJ began as he unfolded the bit of newspaper that M’gann had passed through, tone still light with an air of amusement. “For the both of us.” He knew his head was an absolute mess, a jumbled disaster that he had no idea of how to begin to sort through - an outside perspective would feel even more overwhelmed than he was, and he was living it. “That....may also be for the best,” he said, after a beat of hesitation. “Though I am sure there’s a full report at your disposal, somewhere. Or you could ask.” Though there would be no going back from there, and RJ wasn’t exactly sue what that would look like. “I like puzzles overall. Good for the mind. Keeps you sharp.” One of the few methods of entertainment he’d been exposed to, and even then it was limited. He knew the rules, had completed maybe a puzzle or three at the diner he’d gone to with Mr. Colt a few times, though that was about it. “I’m going to be honest, I don’t know what either of those things are.”

“It would seem as though you read my mind,” RJ said in a joking tone as he eyed what she’d sent through the slot. He was careful with the tray, setting it aside onto the table that was set beside his cot. “Thank you, by the way. This is...above and beyond.” And to be honest, RJ still hardly knew what to make of his treatment while under the care of the hero-set thus far. It was confusing, taking some adjustment, especially when it came to things like carefully put together meals. “Hydra didn’t care much about taste or presentation,” he began, tone still light and easy as he sat back dwon on the cot, “so this is a whole new world, what you and Wanda have introduced me to.” Reaching for the sudoku she’d passed through, he idly waved it in his hand as he lookd over it. “Anyway, I was going to ask for something like this, exactly. I’ve gone through the last set of books that Mr. Barnes brought down for me; I’m going through them faster than anticipated, but..” he gestured around the room with his empty hand, “not much else to do, y’know?”

Finding ways to keep track of time passing had been something that RJ had set as a priority from the moment he arrived - with differences in light, patterns in meals and faces appearing consistently, it had become easy for him to keep track of the days. He was unsure of how long he’d been unconscious before waking in the cell, though that was the only lost time since RJ’s arrival to the Mousehole. It had been several weeks since he’d arrived, and RJ found that he’d found more peace behind a cell wall than he could remember from any time before. He’d had plenty of time to think of that. His mind was still jumbled, pieces were being forced together or not fitting together at all like a jigsaw puzzle from hell where the ends didn’t line up properly, but it was a start. This face was a newer one, though RJ had become used to seeing her consistently. Right on schedule, with another meal prepared and delivered for breakfast. He’d made a routine for himself - had to, to keep things moving, considering he didn’t like the quiet much and needed to keep himself busy - and M’gann’s now familiar face had become a part of it. “Good morning,” he began as he set his book side, a piece of paper slid into place to mark where he’d been. “I’m not sure where exactly we stand on small favors, though if possible I’d like to ask for one.”

“That’s something else that we share, then.” RJ wasn’t sure that would ever get better; he wasn’t optimistic for the state of his thoughts, wasn’t sure there was getting any better than the way he was now. There was no undoing the conditioning done by his handler and by Hydra, no undoing the years he’d spent under their thumb and fully under their control and at their mercy. There was no undoing a childhood that was more of an inferno than any description of hell he’d read over the years. His conditioning might have differed greatly from the original Winter Soldier’s, though there was no denying that the methodology had been effective. “I’m...not sure I know details like that,” RJ began, exhaling long and slow. “Never gave it much thought, y’know? I didn’t think there could ever be anything else. This is all I really know. I mean, all that I remember in any case.” All he knew about his childhood was what his handler had told him; he didn’t remember the before, and he was sure that had been intentional on the part of his handlers. “I’d like to say I’d get far away. I mean, that’s the dream, right? The escape. But I think I’d be putting more energy into tryng to stop them.”

“Safe assumption,” RJ agreed. “Everything I learned suited their agenda, one way or another.” RJ had never fed into the Hydra manifesto, had been more of a weapon than a member of their ranks and so his compliance had mattered much more than his belief in their ideals. “I think I’d like that, sir. Most of what I’ve learned about the Avengers and the other hero teams was more about strengths and weaknesses, less about the people behind the masks so to speak.” No, his knowledge base was very specific: fighting styles, weaknesses, ways to gain the upperhand, ways to exploit and come out on top. Nothing about the person behind the name. “I can’t say I know much about how to take Hydra off the map,” RJ admitted, hesitantly. Was this their purpose? To use him as a means to an end, to send him right back to the hands of Hydra so to slowly eat away at the organization from the inside out, to cause them to rot from the inside? He wasn’t sure he held that kind of power; he was almost certain he didn’t. “I was mostly kept underground. Moved around a lot, but it was always the same faces. They made sure I only knew what I needed to. Better that way for them, I think.” Keeping him in the dark with consistent faces and very little interference from the outside suited their methods best in regards to his training. “I can’t say I’d make much of a spy. More of a soldier.” For the moment, as it was. “But I’m willing to work towards what you need from me. I’m not sure what that is exactly, but I’m willing to try.” 

“I’m not looking to escape, sir.” He had thought about it, when he’d first arrived. It had been an instinct more than a thought - to look for weaknesses in the cell, to quickly take note of the supplies on hand, to calculate how he’d gain the upperhand from this side of the glass. That was his conditioning coming to the forefront in a way that was reflexive and came without thought. But there was no point in escape. There was no where to go. “And if I was, I wouldn’t be going back to them.” Especially not now, with the tracker removed. He’d have to keep moving, wouldn’t be able to settle down, and it was likely they’d find him eventually even as he did his best to stay out of the stretch of their reach. “Especially not to my handler. Not to any of them, but especially not to him.” But that wasn’t the implication of Barnes’ question, and RJ knew that. There were several moments of hesitation, and RJ sighed. “I...don’t know, what I would do. That’s honest, Mr. Barnes.” He’d been more honest in this damned cell than he’d been in the past decade of his life. “Before I’d gotten to know her, I’d do as they asked with no hesitation. But now, I wouldn’t want to do it. I’m not sure if I could.” Well, he could but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself after. “It’s complicted. My head’s a bit of a mess, lately.”

The advice caught RJ a little off guard, and that would be clear from his expression. “I haven’t read much on that,” RJ admitted after a beat passed. “Just the after. Not much of the before. The after fit their narrative better, y’know?” After all, why would they want their second soldier to know what the first had been like before they’d gotten their bloody hands on him? They’d wiped away everything that RJ was prior to their conditioning, so knowing Bucky Barnes would not have benefitted them even slightly. “I’ll look into it. Do some research. Might need to ask someone else deliver the material, though,” RJ said, with something of a smile. “Not sure he’d actually bring me any of that if I asked for it.” RJ nodded in agreement, the movement short and slight though it was undeniable that RJ agreed with him. “That would...depend on the parameters, I think, sir.” And there were so many. “As a whole, I’m not really sure. More specifically, I think ending the Winter Soldier operation once and for all would do the world some good. Make sure Hydra is gone and stays gone. Make sure that no other kid ends up like I did.”

“That’s an understatement, yeah.” This whole situation was still so unreal, and RJ was struggling to roll with the punches. His training had been so rigid that there had been no room for conversations such as this, and now his life had been flipped upside down and sideways. His days consisted of this room (which wasn’t entirely different from his time at Hydra, the one closest similarity, though this ‘cell’ was fire nicer than any room he’d had before), of books that he was working his way through at a rate that surprised even himself, and..conversation. Conversation about things other than his mission, strategies and training. Conversations about things he’d never really thought could be real for him. “I didn’t know her connection to your operation until after I was brought here.” He would’ve figured it out, given time. Then Barnes’ questions would certainly hit a little different. While still under his handler’s thumb, he may have used her for information. He may have leaned into his training, may not have had another choice, may have used her to get where he was now under very different circumstances. His eyebrows pushed together, and he shook his head sharply at the questioning fired his way. “Not of my own volition sir, no. I wouldn’t lay a hand on her.”

It was easier to lean into the training than buck up against it. Refusing was instinctive when he was brought in - saying no to the expectations they set, to the orders that went against all of his morals even at the age of ten. It was not without repercussions, and serious ones at that - the nightmare he found himself living only became worse, and the first hard lesson he learned that it was easier to give his assent and buckle under the orders he was given. Easier to go with the current than against it. Like the sharp burst of electricity he’d encountered when he was five, when another foster child in the home had convinced him to plug a fork into an outlet to see what would happen. Like the electricity jolted through his body by his handler in an effort to make him more pliable and compliant, to wipe away the boy that RJ had been and begin to form the soldier he’d be under their thumb. The water was rising, the current was strong and rapid and overpowering: letting himself ride the wave and get dragged under was the only option.

“I don’t really think I’m reliable on what people are calling anything now, Mr. Barnes. She was my pop culture reference guide.” Was. Is. Complicated. So goddamn messy, the theme of his life. “Charlie’s one of the first people I met when they extended my leash a little bit. And she stuck.” Of course she’d stuck. She was bright and warm, bubbly and fun and so kind on top of it all. She’d only further proved that in the first time they’d spoken after his arrival, and every time since. She wasn’t giving up on him. Not yet, anyway. “Very different, sir. I’d been mostly kept underground, except for missions. I’d really only been around my handlers up until that point.” The world had been a shock to his system, Charlie the biggest one imaginable. A slight flush began on his cheeks, and RJ fidgeted with his sleeve. “I didn’t have much opportunity to speak to...anyone really, no.”