The dumpster isn't where it should be, there's no business using or paying for it here, most of the buildings are abandoned. And yet, it's not nearly dilapidated enough to be abandoned: it looks it, sure, but anyone with a trained eye can see that that's just window dressing. There's also the way it seems to be mostly obscured from view, hidden in a spot uninviting even to the squatters.
It's absolutely too perfect in its isolation to be anything but deliberate.
Approaching it is safe enough. So is opening it. Bucky will even find a nice "reward" waiting inside: someone has been using it as a shelter and there's a nest of blankets, some clothes (too small for Bucky), and a stash of packaged sweets. Sticky buns, cosmic brownies, twinkies, cans of soda... someone apparently has a sugar craving. Not that the someone in question appears to be there.
No, the moment they sensed someone approaching they scaled the wall of the half ruined building behind their makeshift shelter, hiding inside a busted second story window.
The Asset is no longer the Asset. Not exactly. He failed his mission. He hasn't returned to base. He hasn't been debriefed. He hasn't had maintenance. He's been sneaking through the back streets and suburbs of DC. He's thrown stolen clothes on over his tac gear, but he still looks kind of homeless and suspicious and probably a little out of his head. He might, in fact, be a little out of his head. He doesn't know what else he is.
What he is, at the moment, is hurting and empty and afraid. The bleeding stopped, but something inside still grinds painfully, and there's a pounding in his head and a hollow feeling in his stomach. That's all temporary. He hopes. The uncertainty about what to do and where to go now doesn't feel temporary.
The clearly not abandoned dumpster catches his eye, and for a moment his shaken brain says "safe". He creeps towards it, listening closely for any sound inside, then when he determines it must be empty, lifts the lid to peer inside.
The dumpster is, as stated before, clean and well stocked with blankets, (too small) clothing, and sweets, but otherwise empty.
The occupant watches from above in silent panic as the asset himself proceeds to raid their hideout. How did HYDRA find them? Did they make a mistake when they chose to stay here for more than a night? To have a more permanent hideaway?
Fuck.
They duck out of sight, reaching out with their mind to see if they pick up anything from his thoughts.
What's in his mind is... a jumbled mess, really. It's clear he's not here on any kind of orders. It's clear he has spent the past few days desperately avoiding any kind of orders. It's clear, too, that without those orders he's adrift and confused. Not much else is clear at all, not even how he's actually feeling.
Finding the dumpster empty, after all, he just stares in it for a moment, then reaches in for one of those sweets. He sniffs it cautiously, tweaks the wrapping, then puts it back. Edible but not fulfilling. Not enough calories. Not that he's really sure what "enough calories" entails, exactly, but it's not that.
He steps back, looking around warily. Whoever is staying here isn't here, and probably wouldn't want him here when they return. They might attack him, and he would have to kill them. He... doesn't want that. He thinks. Maybe. Wanting is confusing.
That's not ...that doesn't feel like he's looking for them. It doesn't feel like he's looking for anything.
What it does feel like is the way they felt when they first escaped.
He picks up a sweet and they grit their teeth to avoid snarling. Figures the asset would be a bread thei-no he's putting it back. Curious? They wonder if he's ever seen snack cakes before. Had to have. He's Human-
CRACK!
At some point, they'd gone back to staring down at him from the window. At some point, they'd stopped noticing as they leaned further and further out. And now something has broken under their hand-
"Ah!" And they come falling out with a shriek.
"Oww..." It's a piteous sound: two stories is easily survivable but it's still a bit of a fall.
At the sound of the crack above, the asset leaps back, knives appearing in both hands from their hiding places in his clothes. He might not want to kill anyone (maybe) but he will if he has to.
Except the person who lunged out of the window above isn't attacking. They're just laying there. A normal human falling two stories out of a window is unlikely to be in any condition to be attacking, he thinks. The knives stay in his hands anyway, and he doesn't approach. He doesn't flee, either, though. Something about that person is... familiar?
There are, in fact, people who can jump two stories and keep moving. Those are planned jumps though, by people who know what they're doing.
"Fuck."
They did not plan this fall, though they did at least manage to avoid hitting their head. They roll over, clutching their arm (it's not noticeably broken, but it's entirely possible that they've got a small fracture)... and that's when they make eye contact with the asset and freeze.
Eye contacts lasts for a couple seconds before the asset is backing up another step, eyes unfocusing and sliding just to the left side of their face, instead. He isn't being attacked. That means he doesn't have to kill them. Right?
Why do they look familiar? Former handler maybe...?
If that's the case, he really needs to leave, but he's not sure that's the case. This person isn't really acting like a handler. There's no barking orders or threatening with guns or shock batons.
"No!" They catch that thought and immediately need to correct it, it's so inherently offensive to them.
"Not... a handler." Well, them responding to his thoughts might at least give them some clue as to what they are. Telepathy is a valued trait among Hydra's new artificially created infiltration units.
That gets them a startled twitch, and the knives coming back up in alarm. He hadn't said that out loud. Had he?
No-- wait, there was another project. He remembers. New assets. He doesn't know if he's worked with them before. He can't remember that much.
But he is also pretty sure this particular asset isn't on mission. They fell out of a window, for Chrissakes. And he thinks that dumpster might be theirs. It would make sense.
The knives finally comes all the way down again, hands at his sides. Maybe they're not a threat after all. But he doesn't know what else this asset might be, instead.
"You ...ran away? From them." They practically spit the last word, the venom clear even beneath the pain.
They try to move, to sit up. Their pain gate makes it possible but--fuck! They grit their teeth at the twinge of pain that rockets up their arm even as they manage a sitting position.
He flinches, too, at the question, the vitriol, the clear pain, all of it. "I failed my mission," he says uncertainly. "Going back was. Ill advised." Then he might be made to try and complete the mission again. He doesn't want that. That want is firm, not wavering. He does not want to hit that target again.
It's still uncomfortable, but it is not something he will give up on either. So here he is, orderless, not entirely sure how to get by in a world he doesn't really remember much about.
"Are you injured," he finally asks. Because they fell out of a window and that looks like pain.
They look at the Asset cautiously. He's the asset, and that's probably bad if they want to stay hidden. Can't imagine Hydra not looking for him. But helping him is the right thing to do. What a hero would do.
...They want to be a hero, right?
"Broke my arm, I think. You got anywhere to go?" They doubt he does.
"I have an attic." Which is to say, no, not really. It's not a comfortable space. Of course, it's better than living in a dumpster like this person seems to have been doing. At least it's enclosed and secure, even if it smells like a animal droppings and there's not exactly running water.
He hesitates, then offers, "I can set it. The arm. If it needs setting. It will hurt, though."
He at least approaches cautiously, and very clearly telegraphs when he holds out a hand for their arm, waiting for them to put it into his hand rather than reaching out to take it. "Where is it broken?"
They appreciate that, feral and wary creature that they are. Still, they hesitate, uncertain about placing themself in any sort of vulnerable position with someone so notorious as the Asset.
Can he really be trusted? He feels as lost as they are, but he could be trained to fool them. A wolf in sheep's clothing. Or in this case, a hunter in runaway's clothing.
"Forearm. One of those two." One of the two bones, they mean. They hold out their arm for him, pulling up their sleeve a bit so he can see the spot. Examination will show it doesn't appear to be a bad break, but still, they seem a lot less bothered than a human would be.
He lets the hand rest on his metal arm, and feels along the bone gingerly with the flesh one. There. That's the break. "Not quite hairline. But not bad. Setting it in one, two, three."
And on three he snaps the bone back into alignment. It will hurt, probably a lot, but the asset's own understanding of pain is definitely fucked up, and it seems like perhaps theirs is, too.
He leaves the metal arm there, support, and adds, "It will need a brace and sling."
The asset is already turning away to see what he can find in the other dumpsters, to try and make one for them himself. At least a makeshift one for now, until something better can be made.
He comes up with some pieces of wood, from a broken crate, and someone's torn t-shirt. "Here," he offers.
They follow at a short distance and watch suspiciously as he digs through the trash for what they'll need. They don't sense any ill intent from him, but he's still the Asset, enforcer of HYDRA's will.
...Huh. Okay, those things do make sense for a brace and sling. Even if the wood pieces remind them, briefly, of the handler's baton.
"Alright." They'll reach out to take the stuff with their good arm. It might be difficult to fix up their own arm like that but they intend to try. They're not very trusting: even accepting just this assistance has them worried that they've compromised themself.
The asset backs off a few steps, watching warily, and maybe with some veiled concern.
"You are living in that dumpster," he says after a moment of watching them struggle with the makeshift brace and sling. It's a little bit of a question, but mostly sounds like a statement. The dumpster showed very clear signs of being lived in.
The attic does seem better than a dumpster. Safer, too.
They're doing ...surprisingly well for themself with the whole sling thing. They've been on their own for months now and have become used to having to do everything without help, a fact that might seem sad... but Hydra is so much worse the difficulty of their current existence doesn't even register, a fact that is also true when it comes to living in a dumpster.
"...Yeah." Their eyes narrow slightly in suspicion at his statement. They don't reveal where they live to humans. Even when they're not ...ill-intentioned, they get worried. They don't understand why. It's shelter. It's so much better than the cell they were kept in that the flaws of living in a dumpster aren't even apparent to them. Who gives a fuck about running water when the price for it was freedom?
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timeasmymeasure
AU Starter for Bucky
Date: 2024-02-08 09:00 pm (UTC)It's absolutely too perfect in its isolation to be anything but deliberate.
Approaching it is safe enough. So is opening it. Bucky will even find a nice "reward" waiting inside: someone has been using it as a shelter and there's a nest of blankets, some clothes (too small for Bucky), and a stash of packaged sweets. Sticky buns, cosmic brownies, twinkies, cans of soda... someone apparently has a sugar craving. Not that the someone in question appears to be there.
No, the moment they sensed someone approaching they scaled the wall of the half ruined building behind their makeshift shelter, hiding inside a busted second story window.
no subject
Date: 2024-02-11 10:09 pm (UTC)What he is, at the moment, is hurting and empty and afraid. The bleeding stopped, but something inside still grinds painfully, and there's a pounding in his head and a hollow feeling in his stomach. That's all temporary. He hopes. The uncertainty about what to do and where to go now doesn't feel temporary.
The clearly not abandoned dumpster catches his eye, and for a moment his shaken brain says "safe". He creeps towards it, listening closely for any sound inside, then when he determines it must be empty, lifts the lid to peer inside.
no subject
Date: 2024-02-18 03:52 am (UTC)The dumpster is, as stated before, clean and well stocked with blankets, (too small) clothing, and sweets, but otherwise empty.
The occupant watches from above in silent panic as the asset himself proceeds to raid their hideout. How did HYDRA find them? Did they make a mistake when they chose to stay here for more than a night? To have a more permanent hideaway?
Fuck.
They duck out of sight, reaching out with their mind to see if they pick up anything from his thoughts.
no subject
Date: 2024-02-24 03:48 am (UTC)Finding the dumpster empty, after all, he just stares in it for a moment, then reaches in for one of those sweets. He sniffs it cautiously, tweaks the wrapping, then puts it back. Edible but not fulfilling. Not enough calories. Not that he's really sure what "enough calories" entails, exactly, but it's not that.
He steps back, looking around warily. Whoever is staying here isn't here, and probably wouldn't want him here when they return. They might attack him, and he would have to kill them. He... doesn't want that. He thinks. Maybe. Wanting is confusing.
no subject
Date: 2024-02-25 12:27 pm (UTC)That's not ...that doesn't feel like he's looking for them. It doesn't feel like he's looking for anything.
What it does feel like is the way they felt when they first escaped.
He picks up a sweet and they grit their teeth to avoid snarling. Figures the asset would be a bread thei-no he's putting it back. Curious? They wonder if he's ever seen snack cakes before. Had to have. He's Human-
CRACK!
At some point, they'd gone back to staring down at him from the window. At some point, they'd stopped noticing as they leaned further and further out. And now something has broken under their hand-
"Ah!" And they come falling out with a shriek.
"Oww..." It's a piteous sound: two stories is easily survivable but it's still a bit of a fall.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-06 07:59 am (UTC)Except the person who lunged out of the window above isn't attacking. They're just laying there. A normal human falling two stories out of a window is unlikely to be in any condition to be attacking, he thinks. The knives stay in his hands anyway, and he doesn't approach. He doesn't flee, either, though. Something about that person is... familiar?
no subject
Date: 2024-03-09 06:36 pm (UTC)"Fuck."
They did not plan this fall, though they did at least manage to avoid hitting their head. They roll over, clutching their arm (it's not noticeably broken, but it's entirely possible that they've got a small fracture)... and that's when they make eye contact with the asset and freeze.
Shit. Fuck.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-11 07:33 am (UTC)Why do they look familiar? Former handler maybe...?
If that's the case, he really needs to leave, but he's not sure that's the case. This person isn't really acting like a handler. There's no barking orders or threatening with guns or shock batons.
no subject
Date: 2024-04-10 02:00 am (UTC)"Not... a handler." Well, them responding to his thoughts might at least give them some clue as to what they are. Telepathy is a valued trait among Hydra's new artificially created infiltration units.
no subject
Date: 2024-04-16 07:26 am (UTC)No-- wait, there was another project. He remembers. New assets. He doesn't know if he's worked with them before. He can't remember that much.
But he is also pretty sure this particular asset isn't on mission. They fell out of a window, for Chrissakes. And he thinks that dumpster might be theirs. It would make sense.
The knives finally comes all the way down again, hands at his sides. Maybe they're not a threat after all. But he doesn't know what else this asset might be, instead.
no subject
Date: 2024-04-18 07:52 pm (UTC)They try to move, to sit up. Their pain gate makes it possible but--fuck! They grit their teeth at the twinge of pain that rockets up their arm even as they manage a sitting position.
no subject
Date: 2024-05-10 03:31 am (UTC)It's still uncomfortable, but it is not something he will give up on either. So here he is, orderless, not entirely sure how to get by in a world he doesn't really remember much about.
"Are you injured," he finally asks. Because they fell out of a window and that looks like pain.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-01 03:02 am (UTC)They look at the Asset cautiously. He's the asset, and that's probably bad if they want to stay hidden. Can't imagine Hydra not looking for him. But helping him is the right thing to do. What a hero would do.
...They want to be a hero, right?
"Broke my arm, I think. You got anywhere to go?" They doubt he does.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-21 04:51 am (UTC)He hesitates, then offers, "I can set it. The arm. If it needs setting. It will hurt, though."
no subject
Date: 2025-11-21 08:37 am (UTC)What's an attic? Why does it seem like he finds it better thsn a dumpster? And how did he get one?
They flinch a bit at the offer. They don't really want to let the asset--or anyone--lay hands on them. But ...can they even fix it on their own?
They look down at their arm and swallow. "Alright."
no subject
Date: 2025-11-24 04:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-11-26 06:19 am (UTC)Can he really be trusted? He feels as lost as they are, but he could be trained to fool them. A wolf in sheep's clothing. Or in this case, a hunter in runaway's clothing.
"Forearm. One of those two." One of the two bones, they mean. They hold out their arm for him, pulling up their sleeve a bit so he can see the spot. Examination will show it doesn't appear to be a bad break, but still, they seem a lot less bothered than a human would be.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-30 05:12 am (UTC)And on three he snaps the bone back into alignment. It will hurt, probably a lot, but the asset's own understanding of pain is definitely fucked up, and it seems like perhaps theirs is, too.
He leaves the metal arm there, support, and adds, "It will need a brace and sling."
no subject
Date: 2025-12-02 08:54 am (UTC)They take their arm back, cradling it gingerly.
"Alright." Can they make those? They think so. They can't go to a doctor.
no subject
Date: 2025-12-12 05:10 am (UTC)He comes up with some pieces of wood, from a broken crate, and someone's torn t-shirt. "Here," he offers.
no subject
Date: 2025-12-17 07:42 am (UTC)...Huh. Okay, those things do make sense for a brace and sling. Even if the wood pieces remind them, briefly, of the handler's baton.
"Alright." They'll reach out to take the stuff with their good arm. It might be difficult to fix up their own arm like that but they intend to try. They're not very trusting: even accepting just this assistance has them worried that they've compromised themself.
super belated, sorry. holidays happened and this got buried :(
Date: 2026-01-07 05:24 am (UTC)"You are living in that dumpster," he says after a moment of watching them struggle with the makeshift brace and sling. It's a little bit of a question, but mostly sounds like a statement. The dumpster showed very clear signs of being lived in.
The attic does seem better than a dumpster. Safer, too.
LMAO it's fine, shit happens
Date: 2026-01-08 01:49 am (UTC)"...Yeah." Their eyes narrow slightly in suspicion at his statement. They don't reveal where they live to humans. Even when they're not ...ill-intentioned, they get worried. They don't understand why. It's shelter. It's so much better than the cell they were kept in that the flaws of living in a dumpster aren't even apparent to them. Who gives a fuck about running water when the price for it was freedom?