fossilised | HYDRA world AU

HYDRA world AU

The world changed the day that Steve Rogers went into the ice.

Troops that had been following his exploits across the Allied Nations lost hope and lost morale, thinking that if even a super soldier could be defeated then what was the good of them fighting? Conversely, the Axis Powers grew more confident, hailing the defeat of Captain America, and that became a symbol for them to rally around. Technically, the Nazi Party won that war, but they were only in power for a year before HYDRA grew tired of being merely a part of a whole and decided to subsume their former masters.

They, after all, had no real interest in eugenics or genocide, that was the way to rule a single country. They wanted world domination, and they got there through careful promises, through underhand dealings, and by convincing the public that the freedoms they were giving over were for the greater good. After all, how could HYDRA protect them without knowledge, without obedience?

Years turned into decades and what had begun as a tentative regime had become all-powerful and tyrannical as technology boomed and citizens were born into this new world order. Children were taught from a young age, scared with stories of the Soldier. A boogieman to most, a whispered secret of its actual existence to others, the Weapon sent in when all else had failed. At least fifteen organised rebellions had been quelled by its deadly presence alone, and now most feared to even try.

The Soldier was an obedient tool.

Until the day it disappeared.

It had been a fairly routine mission, just reconnaissance on a boarding school down in Texas to make sure that nothing subversive was being taught on the curriculum after rumours to the contrary had reached powerful ears. It had sat and stared down a scope for 72 hours and seen nothing, heard nothing, and so it left as ordered, neither disappointed or elated at not having to kill that day. Its next mission was to take out a tanker of supplies on the Arctic ocean, kill all souls aboard, and make it look as though one of their enemies to the East had done it.

Simple.

The Soldier didn't like the cold. It wasn't supposed to like or dislike anything, and so it carefully guarded that secret, but it didn't like the cold. It was reminiscent of storage, and of a place coated in snow that was synonymous with pain. But that dislike didn't cause any hesitation, and the Soldier dived into the frigid waters from its dinghy to swim toward the ship. But something stopped that progress. Something sighted under the water, something inside frozen ice. A face that caused more pain than even the freezing water, that made the Soldier believe its heart was about to stop dead. Something in its head broke, a reset button to the orders given, and suddenly nothing seemed more important than to collect that someone frozen in ice and protect him. Keep him.

It took nearly 40 hours to drag the ice floe to the surface and chip away enough to retrieve the body inside, and another 24 to get to shore. Even the Soldier's enhanced body was pushed to its limits from the prolonged exposure to the cold, and the extreme physical effort it took. But eventually the Soldier and its captive (Ste--?) were ensconced in a small abandoned building.

Steve would wake up naked, on the floor, and being stared at by a man all in black leather with a mask hiding his face.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"No. Howard and Maria Stark were eliminated in 1991 for arranging subversive meetings, speaking against the appointed HYDRA government, and connections with undesirables. I executed them."

James delivered all of that with a blank, non emotional tone. Though he had somewhat broken through his programming to rescue Steve, he was far from human again. He was still a weapon, and a weapon felt no guilt or sorrow over completing a designated task.

"I also tortured Tony Stark, their son, for 52 hours to determine his involvement. That's who we're going to see."

Any thrill, any amusement that might have been felt was now completely gone from Steve’s body. He stared at Bucky for much too long before he turned to gaze through the windshield. He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t have anything to say for once, either.

As he settled back, an alarm went off in the car since he had not put on his seatbelt, but having no frame of reference, Steve Rogers did what he thought best. This alarm could only be an alert about incoming hostiles from what evidently was a radar system inside of the car. A good piece of technology, translated from tanks and planes likely.

He went for the handle of the car door, to find that it would not open on its own. Self locking had not been invented in his time.

So, Steve did the next best thing he could and kicked open the car door before rolling out. It was very grand indeed, but luckily it occurred in an area devoid of most people. There were no cameras to catch the act, or to catch Steve looking for enemies like an idiot, car door still in hand in case he needed a shield.

What the fuck?

Instinct had him slamming the brakes on a second before Rogers kicked the door out and rolled onto the tarmac, so the car only stopped a short distance down the road. At first he thought they might be under attack and so he exited the car himself with a weapon in each hand, but... no.

"Why did you do that?"

Idiot.

Goddamn stupid idiot.

Even if his words were still locked behind the Soldier facade, understated and flat, his expression very clearly said that Rogers had never looked so punchable.

That was a look that Steve had seen many, many times. Bucky used to want to beat him senseless twice a week, mostly because Steve deserved it, and it was only because he was such a good fella that he didn’t kill his sickly, small, infuriating friend a thousand times over. Steve was no longer sickly or small, and Bucky had already punched him yesterday so they were off to a fine start at this new, impossible life they had together now.

Blue eyes turned sharp when Bucky approached, though he lowered the car door instead of lift it towards the man carrying two guns and stalking down the road in his direction.

“Your radar went off, but I think it’s not working,” Steve said, no longer worked up enough to try and sound out his words into a more Midwestern tongue. Neutral. Bland. God it was hard. “What can you tell me about their technology now?”

"That was an alarm to say you didn't have your safety belt on."

Even the Soldier, kept sequestered from the world, knew that. It was hard knowing that Rogers was from too far back to know this stuff, because James had been wiped too many times in the interim to really know what was modern and what wasn't.

Seemed like this would be a learning experience for them both.

"You saw me pull out the tracking system before we got in."

That was the wires he had tugged free to begin with. "Now we need another one."

Oh. Steve frowned, almost concerned. “Why would the car care if I was... uh. I guess that’s pretty clever...”. He ditched the door by throwing it across the street and it landed mostly covered by tall grass. Good enough.

There would be a lot of walking until they got to the next suitable car and this time, Steve clicked the belt into place as soon as he got inside the passenger door.

No need to cause a fuss with the safety system.

Traveling after that was more monotonous than difficult. Neither man needed to sleep that much and they could usually find abandoned buildings to sleep in as they took the back roads mapped out by a small television set inside the car. Steve was fascinated by it, and watched it more than he did the passing scenery.

When they needed to eat, there was more stealing. Steve didn’t feel too good about that though.

“These people look like they can’t spare it,” he complained. “Don’t you remember being hungry?”

Even if Steve found the road travel monotonous, the Soldier found it soothing. Though there was an ever present itch at the back of its head warning about how much punishment would come at the end of this off-script road trip, it was-- nice for once to be going somewhere with the intent of helping rather than harming.

That was an incredibly illegal way of thinking, though, so he tried not to think about it directly just in case there was something in his head that would be able to track his thoughts.

James merely continued to pack food away into his pockets and a small bag that had been in the back of their second car, without any guilt.

"Yes." Frequently. Hunger had been used as a punishment before, and the Soldier was only ever given enough to function and never enough to feel fully satiated thanks to the serum. "It's irrelevant. We require it for the mission, that's all that matters."

“People’s lives matter,” Steve responded. He was the guy that believed in the good of all, not the good of some. Or even the good of most. That had always been a sticking point between himself and those above him in the chain of command.

It was why he never played real well with others. Not even the people that called him their leader. Those days were likely really far behind him now.

Just as well.

Steve stood in the home of the people Bucky was stealing from, looking at photographs on the wall. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen them, these modern day photos. So realistic, like you could reach out and touch someone. He frowned at how happy these people looked and then followed Bucky back to the car.

It wouldn’t be long now before they hit civilization again, he was told. They were almost out of the wastes of Canada. There had been a bomb dropped here decades ago. It was safe enough, but no one had moved back. Perhaps understandable. It all just made Steve sad. And quiet.

Steve didn't understand.

If the people who lived in this house knew who was here, they'd empty their larders themselves. Everybody knew that the Soldier was to be obeyed, and if the weapon of HYDRA showed up then someone was about to die. Although they might not have recognised him like this, out of his combat clothing and without a mask.

Steve would begin to notice the real differences as they hit their first major city in America. There were flags, but none of what used to be the stars and stripes. This was the flag of the HYDRA nation. Two silhouettes standing side on, facing each other, making the HYDRA salute, they stood either side of the HYDRA emblem, the odd octopus skull creature. And in the top right corner of the flag, the Nazi swastika, as a remembrance of how they had formed.

Road signs and building names were in both English and German, and the gleam of camera lenses was everywhere. Technology, cell phones and transport and a million other things besides were everywhere, as people bustled about their lives. Occasionally stopping and saluting to one another.

The closer they approached civilization, the more that Steve wished they weren’t. This made the wastelands of Canada look appealing in all of the very worst ways, but to Steve Rogers, he couldn’t help but feel saddened by the things he saw from the window. It was more reason to look at what Bucky called their GPS system, but he forced himself to take note of this crazy nightmare dream he was forced to live in now.

“This isn’t real,” he whispered to himself, as if it could make it true.

Crossing into New York itself was even worse. The buildings were tall and beautiful. There were moving signs all over the place. Traffic was intense. Clothing was strange. The thump of the city, the vibe it gave off, was still the same despite the time that had passed.

“How much longer?” He was trying not to be disaheartened but two days of not speaking and experiencing this mess was ruining his usual cheer.

This was a dangerous place to be, it was a densely populated place and there were cameras everywhere that could catch a glimpse of him. The only piece of luck he had was that nobody outside of very high level operatives had seen him without a mask, even Tony Stark wouldn't recognise his torturer without a mask and combat leathers and the arm on display.

He had stolen them both an array of brimmed hats to hide their faces, and when he finally pulled the car into the docks of Stark Tower (Innovation for the Future of HYDRA), he was wound almost as tightly as Rogers.

"Stay behind me, keep your head down, and don't speak."

Two days hadn't done much to improve the accent.

Head down? What was the point of that. He had three days worth of scruff and surely, no one knew what he looked like. Especially without the uniform on. He gave Bucky half of a glance before deciding better than to tell him off for being a general asshole. It wouldn’t do a lick of good anyway.

Meekness did not come easily to Steve, however, and neither was he able to really keep a lid on his boyish wonder at the things he was seeing in the loading area either. Floating skiffs, boxes with green light pouring from them, vehicles he couldn’t even imagine—

Once they were on the elevator, Steve even came face to face (or voice to ear) with JARVIS, though he had no idea that the person speaking to them once the doors closed didn’t have a body. And wasn’t a person at all really.

“Gentlemen, please state your business? We have no record of a meeting this afternoon with either person matching your description.”

Steve frowned and leaned towards Bucky. “How can he see us...?”

“Because I have the software to do so,” JARVIS replies. “Please state your names, identification serial numbers and business or I shall contact the proper authorities.”

James had no experience with JARVIS, but there were AI security systems at a number of high level HYDRA bases (though he had no idea just how advanced this one was compared to most of them), so he didn't jump or give any indication that he was rattled. He only shot a brief scowl sidelong at Steve. He said don't speak, what part of that was hard?

Steve didn't have the right accent, and an unregistered foreigner with the wrong sort of accent might also alert the authorities.

This was the part of the plan that was the riskiest. He knew a lot of passcodes from high level HYDRA operatives. Not because he was supposed to know them as the Soldier, but because people rarely thought to guard their tongues around what was supposed to be a mindless weapon. One of them, he was sure, would gain them access without an appointment, and Stark would believe he was meeting some top brass from the organisation that ruled the world.

"Hail HYDRA," he began, his voice switching to a smooth fully German accent, not even hesitating over it. This was something he was trained to do, after all, infiltrate with the best. "Mr. Stark will want to see us. Tell him that I've come regarding his Uncle Bill's geraniums."

Steve did his best to keep his head down, as instructed, since obviously someone could somehow see him (what the hell?!) and scrunched his face up so he didn’t look recognizable. He had a feeling that he was really poorly suited for this sort of thing. Captain America didn’t infiltrate in secret. He did so with fists and shield at the ready.

This confined space was making him nervous, if only because he couldn’t read the body language of the man next to him and because he had no idea what was going on. He didn’t like being at a loss.

There was a pause from the AI, who answered back in German that Mr. Stark would be waiting. And then the elevator started to move. When it stopped and the doors opened, a man that looked so much like Howard Stark net them, head tilted, eyes jerking between the pair. “Hail HYDRA,” he started. That was only proper.

"Hail HYDRA."

James responded without hesitation, arms snapping neatly out in front of him and back to his sides. He really hoped that Steve mimicked him, but if not, then it would just be put down to bad manners. Or he would be assumed to be James' subordinate and therefore not important enough to greet Stark.

Hopefully.

The Soldier sort of vaguely remembered seeing a file once that said Stark's personal lab had dispensation to be free of surveillance equipment because highly classified work was done there and even lower level employees shouldn't know about it, but that it was inspected at random to make sure everything was still above board.

He really hoped that was still the case. He responded in German, since that was only polite when Stark had chosen the language.

"My associate and I have come to view your laboratory."

Tony couldn’t stop from rolling his eyes and making a gesture for the two to follow him. Did he think that the blond’s lack of response was weird? Not really. HYDRA had some real bullshit rules about who was in charge of whom and who got to do or so what. He expected that the taller man was likely here to be the strong, silent type. The muscle. He hated that. But he hated these randoms more.

“You guys were just here last week,” Tony muttered, taking the pair down the hall. The walls were made of glass, showing off the city, showing off other rooms. Steve was almost too awestruck to keep from gawking. And wouldn’t that have been a mistake! “I get the point of random, don’t get me wrong, but these are happening more frequently than random. Should I expect two more of you guys to show up next week too?”

These complaints were all in English, without any real accent at all. Steve at least felt better about that.

“And could you tell me now if you’re going to trash or take anything? I want to plan my weekend.”

This was different from how James remembered the man. Other than him being older now, obviously not a gangly teenager just having lost his parents, he was cockier. Arrogant, even. It triggered an urge in him to show deference, as was his proper place, but he shoved it deep down and merely followed along as if he had all the right in the world.

"I'm sure you've been told before that it's not for you to question these inspections. They're no inconvenience, surely, unless you have something to hide?"

Steve might be surprised at how easily the taciturn and emotionless James of the last few days had shifted into this new persona. Inflections, body language, tone, everything that perfectly portrayed a man in charge, doing his job.

"You'll remember, I'm sure, how unpleasant those sort of questions can be if they need to be asked."

“Yeah, Yeah,” Tony replied as if it wasn’t a big deal and he was used to these sorts of threats. “Like I said, just planning my weekend. I have a presentation on Tuesday and if you guys decide to break my reactor casing again, I’ll have to push it back. Again. Your bosses won’t like that.” He could give it as good as he got. He was haughty. And just as arrogant as Howard had been. Steve liked him and hated him at the same time.

And it made him miss Howard in a way he didn’t think was possible. Nostalgia was an odd creature.

Across the hall, something as tall as a man and looking a little like a crane crossed in front of them and Tony reached out to pat it in passing. “DUM-E, get the Scotch. The good kind, not the illegal import,” Tony said, brazenly glancing at Bucky like it was so big, amusing secret that he had access to things he shouldn’t.

Steve couldn’t help but pause to watch the robot go and Tony noticed the way he lingered instead of keeping in step with his superior. It made him tense up a little. He hated surprises.

And he made that clear once they were downstairs in his lab with the door shut and no record being made of their conversation. “Who are you two really?”

Okay, good.

At least they were inside the lab, that was a good step. Now he had to figure out how to play this, because Stark seemed to be insinuating that he had visits like this before. He could tell Stark outright that they were looking for the resistance, but it could be a trap, and any mention of it would get HYDRA called immediately.

Somehow, the Soldier had quite an aversion to going back, even after only three days of relative freedom.

So that left intimidation.

James allowed the plates on his metal arm to flex and expand, a useful little tool that was usually used for breaking out of restraints, but in this case it merely split the seams of his hoodie to show the gleaming metal underneath. His eyes were hard, deadly. Stark would remember this arm and the voice to go with it, even if nothing else.

"You know who I am."

He was fairly confident, in fact almost positive, that anyone outside of the top level of HYDRA wouldn't know the Soldier had gone rogue. They'd never risk that information getting out, it would be a disaster.

Tony looked like he was made of salt, like he had turned to gaze down upon Sodom and Gomorrah and was completely frozen in place forever. Steve had seen real fear in the eyes of men before, especially those whose guts had been spilled out and who were dying as dirt from shells filled their wounds.

He’d never, however, seen that particular fear immediately glazed over and replaced with a sort of solemn acceptance. Not even the done for men in the trenches had looked so at peace.

“Was wondering when I’d see you again,” Tony said, rolling his shoulders. “Out of curiosity, before you kill me, tell me what tipped them off?”

A tiny part of James' mind baulked at the fear he inspired, like he was looking upon a monster. But a large part of him still didn't care. He was a weapon, and at the moment his sole purpose was taking care of Steve Rogers (though fuck only knew why), and if that meant scaring or even killing people, then so be it.

"They suspect, they don't know. I'm not here to kill you."

He hesitated a moment, possibly the most human thing he'd done in decades when he'd never hesitated before.

"I need you to hide someone in the resistance."

There was perhaps no one with more animated a face than Tony Stark and Steve found this second transformation, from acceptance to outright surprise to be almost laughable. The man already had massive eyes. This just made him look like a child’s drawing.

“I feel like this is a trick question,” Tony mumbled, glancing for the first time at him, and Steve made sure not to look away. He’d been doing his best to hide and now he was just tired of it. “I thought you guys took care of the resistance...”

It wasn’t an attempt to back peddle, Steve realized. Tony wasn’t just playing dumb. He was actively protecting something. The way he breathed gave it away, though most people would never guess that by looking at him. His eyes could see more. See deeper.

“Please.” Accent and everything, Steve went for it. “We need your help. James and I.” Aren’t you proud of him, Buck? He didn’t use your nickname.

That, if nothing else, might clue Stark in to something very weird going on here. The Soldier didn't have a name. The Soldier was a weapon, that arm was proprietary StarkTech from when Howard had first designed it, before he had been killed. Not that the Starks had been allowed near it in decades, but the point was the same. This was not a man with a name.

Steve got a glare for that, poor man, not seeming to be able to do anything right.

"This is Steve Rogers, he needs to be hidden."

There was a subtle threat behind his words that said he wouldn't ask for much longer, he might move to other forms of persuasion that Stark would enjoy much less.

“I’m sorry. You stuttered,” Tony broke out immediately, once more taken aback. He had no idea what was happening here, but it wasn’t right. He could smell the trap. “Or I’ve gone temporarily insane.”

The man glaring daggers at him had tortured him for over two days. He’d been young then, younger than the Soldier appeared to be without change, but he remembered most of it.

The Soldier hadn’t let him sleep. He’d been an instrument. Not a man.

Tony wasn’t sure what he was looking at now. Whom he was dealing with. “What happened to you? Programming on the fritz or something?” Most people, Tony included, thought the Soldier was a robot in people skin. “Are you saying this is...” And Tony had to lower his voice here. “Captain America?”

“That’s right,” Steve said, thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. “Or had been. Steve Rogers. Good to meet you. I knew your dad.”

“Oh my god, I’m already dead, aren’t I?!”

James really needed to resist the urge to punch both of these assholes, tie them up, and do this his way. Steve Rogers clearly couldn't follow orders, and how he had survived this long was a goddamn mystery. And Tony Stark's refusal to believe what he was being told was, while understandable, something he didn't have time for.

Someone would have heard that password he gave, someone would have been checking if a person who should have that password was meant to be in Stark Tower, which meant someone would be investigating before too long.

He gave them half an hour. Tops.

His arm made a loud whirring noise and violence practically radiated off him, even if he kept his voice low and level.

"No arguments. No explanations. You take Rogers and hide him in the resistance, or I'll kill you now and we'll leave."

It wasn't even a threat, just a matter of fact explanation of the two options in this scenario. Because if Stark wasn't going to help them, then he was a witness and a danger, and therefore needed to be dealt with.

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