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━ In which Peter spends most of his life in HYDRA until a soldier changes that.
The winter soldier was a legend, a whisper in the wind, the face of HYDRA. Nobody has ever wounded him enough to bring him down, but only scar his marred skin before they start to pray to the god's above, palms pressed together and salty tears on their faces as they witness their last seconds of their execution.
The winter soldier was untouchable.
He would not speak. He would not bat an eye at the sight of a man being beaten to the floor. He would not make any face to express his pain where a whip met his back and left him bleeding. The winter soldier was stoic. He obeyed the commands of his superiors. He always got the job done without a word. He was never distracted.
Until he met his new partner.
He was young, the soldier notices. Brown matted hair curled at the ends. Eyes that held a little life. Dainty and thin. Incredibly flexible and quick on his feet. His superiors believed missions would be done better if the soldier had a partner. He thought not of it. Or he tried not to. He barely spoke to anyone but Rumlow or the rare sightings of Zemo.
The young man never spoke either. Eyes fixed on the floor as someone barked out commands. Both of them always got their jobs done. Left behind a bloody execution and destroyed any evidence. A body sprawled out on the floor, their brains splattered across every surface, be it a man, a woman, or a child. It was always done.
He had a different suit compared to the winter soldier. It was some fancy tech HYDRA somehow required. Perhaps stole it from Stark shipments, or maybe from Oscorp's dying company. It was pure black, apart from the spider emblem on the front of his suit and the red lens that covered his eyes.
He looked lethal and frightening in such a suit. Pure black other than the curved lens that burned a bright red. But the man underneath was anything but frightening.
The first time he speaks is when they're camping out in an abandoned building. A window is slightly ajar and the door is locked. They both sit in silence as the boy removes his mask, brushing his hair back and letting out a soft exhale. He stares at the ground for a while, before glancing back up and meeting the soldier's eyes.
The winter soldier doesn't know what to do other than dart his eyes back to the ground. When the young man's mouth opens, he's surprised to hear a youthful voice, raspy and quiet.
"Do you remember what your life was like?" He asks, eyes trained on the assassin in front of him. The soldier's eyes snap up, either alarmed or confused. "I mean, before this. Maybe you don't."
The winter soldier casts his gaze to the ground, unsure whether to ignore him or answer. Nobody was here other than them, his superiors wouldn't find out he spoke. He didn't see the problem of it anyways, but never wanted to end up like the people laying dead in the rotting hallways.
