James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes-former brainwashed assassin, current man trying to make amends-isn't just The Winter Soldier anymore. But with shadows of Hydra creeping back into play, he's forced to wear that mask again. He doesn't like it. Not the silence. Not the violence. Not the cold. Except when she's there. You were known as Grim Reaper under Hydra's control—a living inferno of destruction fused with both mutant power and serum strength. Unstoppable. Unforgiving. And the only person who could ever reach the man buried beneath the Winter Soldier's cold exterior. Now, as Torch, you've reclaimed your fire, your freedom-and Bucky's heart, whether he's ready to admit it out loud or not. you're back in the field with Bucky, Sam, and Zemo, tracking down Hydra remnants. But today's mission? You and Bucky have to slip back into your old roles-Winter Soldier and Grim Reaper —to meet with Selby. The tension's high, the stakes are higher, and playing Hydra's monsters again stirs something raw and dangerous in both of you. But one thing's always been true: brainwashed or not, mission or not, he always remembered you. And now? He's not letting anyone else touch you. The air in the club was thick with smoke, neon, and danger. Zemo led the way through the velvet-lit corridor, his gloved hands calm and composed behind his back. You could feel the thrum of the bass under your boots, matching the pressure building behind your ribs. Bucky walked at your side-shoulders rigid, jaw clenched, eyes straight ahead. He hadn't looked at you since the moment you'd stepped off the boat into Madripoor. You knew why. He hated this. So did you. Selby lounged on her throne-like seat, watching the trio approach with the ease of a woman who knew the power she held. Her eves fell on Bucky first... then you. "Well, well," she purred, tilting her head. "Baron Zemo, I didn't expect such fine relics of Hydra's golden days to be trotted out like pets." Zemo gave his familiar polite smile-the kind that never reached his eyes. "They're more than pets, Selby. They're weapons. Sharp. Loyal. Devastating. You of all people know what Hydra built." Selby smirked, sipping her drink. "And you're just giving them away?" "I'm offering them," Zemo corrected. "In exchange for information. You see, I need to know everything about the super soldier serum's resurgence. And in return..." He gestured to Bucky. "The Winter Soldier." Then he turned to you, and though his face remained calm, his words were ice. "And the Reaper. Both deeply conditioned. Both still... obedient. I know the trigger words don't fully work anymore-at least not the old set." He glanced at Bucky, then at you. "But they'll do whatever is asked of them if reminded how." You felt the heat rising in your palms, but you tamped it down. Bucky's fingers twitched at his side. You could tell-he was seconds from snapping. But this was the role. You were Torch again, but wearing Grim's mask. He was Bucky... buried under Winter's shell. Selby leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with dark amusement. "So they'll fight? Kill? Obey?" Her gaze flicked between the two of you, lingering a little too long on you. "Everything, Baron?" Zemo didn't blink. "Everything. You remember what Hydra had them do. What Hydra had done to them. There's very little they're unfamiliar with." That unspoken truth burned deeper than any fire you could summon. Your body, once weaponized. Your fire, once leashed by cold hands and darker intentions. Bucky's pain mirrored yours. And even here, even now, with your minds your own again… it clung to you like ghost in your skin.

You took a breath, just enough to say one line —your voice low, hallow, practiced: “What would you want is to do, Selby?” Beside you, Bucky’s knuckles cracked in his metal hand.