AA here, Hi! Sorry for the long wait. School has been killing me recently, but I kept chugging along with this thing and here we are.
I didn't initially intend to go in the direction that I did. But some dark part of me whispered awful things in my head and I couldn't resist the temptation. Just know that this is still intended to end up as good day for the Asset.
Before I continue I would just like to reiterate that:
Some of you may have noticed a similarity between Asset Management and many of Dsudis's works. This is not a coincidence. I was hugely inspired by their stories such as 'Dinner for Two', 'A Thread of Light' and their currently ongoing AMAZING 'All These Burning Hearts in Hell' series. Dsudis is truly the giant on who's shoulders I stand. They were the one who introduced me to the breathtaking dumpster world. If it weren't for them, I would never have started writing Asset Management. If you like hurt!Bucky being comforted by heartbroken!Steve, but haven't read their stories then head over to Dsudis at http://dsudis.tumblr.com Or http://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis For amazing feels, top notch writing and the friendliest space you will ever find this side of the internet.
I just wanted to give proper credit where it is deserved.
Thank you all!
------
The elevator ride to the tower roof is silent. Everything is silent with the ear buds in. Up until the Asset's stomach makes a small jump, then when the doors don't open right away Handler Rogers says, “It seems we weren't the only ones who planned on enjoying the good weather. Doctor Banner is leading Natasha and Sam in a yoga exercise on the grass field, so we'll have to take the sun chairs instead.”
The Asset gulps. Agents Black Widow and Falcon are on the other side of the still closed elevator doors. Along with Subject Hulk. It hadn't expected seeing anyone else quite this soon, practically right out the gate.
There is a reason the doors haven't opened yet, the Asset realizes. Why Handler Rogers saw fit to share the information he most likely just now received from JARVIS. He wants to test the Asset, see if it can control itself.
The Asset rolls its jaw, muzzle shifting comfortably with the motion. Fists flex, toes curl, cage and lock secure, the leash hangs slack in an arch from Handler Rogers's hand to the Asset's collar. It is safe.
It doesn't hear itself say, “The Asset is safe, Sir,” but Handler Rogers does. He leans its head against his thigh with a steady hand. The Asset breathes in the scent of warm skin, bathing shorts and sunscreen. The words “Good job,” reverberates down his strong leg into the Asset's skull.
“You'll be safe with me. You won't do anything to them, and they won't do anything to you.” after a moment Handler Rogers wraps the lead around his hand, shortening the slack so that the Asset won't be able to get more than a foot and a half away from him without pulling the leash tight. A reminder and promise both.
The Asset does not look up. It has to be on its best behavior now that it's around people. Or else Handler Rogers might let someone else punish it while he relax in the sun. It's never come to that before with Handler Rogers, but Hydra often had people who volunteered to punish the Asset.
The Avengers are an unknown. It doesn't have a psyche profile on any of them, It doesn't know if one of them might be a sadist, so it has to be on its best behavior. Disappointing Handler Rogers is bad enough because he isn't a sadist, so he doesn't enjoy punishing the Asset, but that just means it makes him that much more unhappy when it is bad.
The elevator doors open, revealing the bright morning sky. Smog-filtering blimps drift in the clear blue, proudly proclaiming ‘Stark Industries New Green Initiative’. The outside wind tousles their hair.
Handler Rogers step forward. The Asset spies the other Avenger members to the side as it follows him. They are gathered on the grass like Handler Rogers said, sitting cross-legged on light grey gymnastic mats. The asset refrains from pointing out the purposeless waste of space if they aren't even going to sit on the soft grass directly. If Handler Rogers still wants to use the Asset as a recliner like last time then it will endure the hard deck floor without complaint.
The roof terrace is beautifully arranged with curling walkways of cobble and combed white sand areas. There's a peanut shaped swimming pool and a hot tub with an infinity edge overlooking the side of the building. There's even a shaded bar with swiveling high stools.
The agents had to take the circular patch of lush grass for their yoga mats though.
Handler Rogers walks up to the deck chairs, and motions for the Asset to stay at the foot end. When he sits down on the seat and leans back. Something inside its chest shrivels, the Asset hangs its head: it doesn’t deserve to serve Handler Rogers like it did on the grass.
Handler Rogers had been lying on the bare grass resting his head and shoulders on the Asset's stomach where it lay perpendicular to him. He had been smiling in the sun just like he does now. If Handler Rogers doesn't want to use the Asset it will wait obediently for him to find a use. Handler Rogers always finds the best uses for the Asset.
Then Handler Rogers props his feet on its back. The Asset looks up, startled. It sees Handler Rogers put his hands behind his head. His smile warms the Asset more than the sunlight bearing down on it. For a moment the Asset can't look away. Handler Rogers is so beautiful when he smiles it becomes paralyzed like a deer in headlights.
The spell breaks when Handler Rogers looks away, attention called by something the Asset can neither see or hear, but he nods in the direction of the grassy area so the Asset assumes one of the agents said something. It turns its head back to the ground, the warmth staying with it.
It did good. The grass doesn't matter. The yoga mats don't matter. The agents don't matter. The only thing that matters is that the Asset can please Handler Rogers just like this. Taking a shower, putting away dishes, applying sunscreen, even just something as small as being a footstool for Handler Rogers is enough. It doesn't even have to move anywhere or do anything.
It's so easy to please Handler Rogers, to earn smiles, gentle touches like hugs and even rewards. The Asset doesn't deserve Handler Rogers. Worse, the Asset is selfish and greedy for 'wanting’ to stay with him when it knows he deserves better than a used-up Asset not even good in a fight.
...
There's someone standing over the Asset. An intruder? Handler Rogers hasn't moved, possibly asleep, unaware and vulnerable. The target hasn't moved further, hesitating? The Asset can drop them to the floor, establish a headhold in the crock of its elbows, twist its arms and break the target's neck.
A dark skinned hand slowly places a glass of pale yellow liquid with a straw in front of the Asset's face. The Asset looks up sharply. Agent Wilson pulls his hand back as if burned. Though he keeps a wary smile as he meets the Asset's gaze evenly. He opens his mouth to say something but the Asset looks away, turning to Handler Rogers to wake him up.
It finds Handler Rogers wide awake, taking in the scene with calm interest.
Only then does the Asset realize what it nearly did.
With a jolt, the Asset pulls back out from underneath Handler Rogers's feet. Turning over the drink in front of it by accident. The breaking glass, though soundless, is enough to drive the Asset into a blind panic.
It bolts away from from the tall dark man and the spilled drink and the grasping hands and the cutting whips and electric batons and too wide toys splitting it in two as the people laugh-
The leash goes taut and tugs the Asset back with a yank that sends it spinning. The Asset scrambles like an insect flipped on its back. Once it manages to get the right side up again the Asset looks back at what it was fleeing from, disoriented.
Handler Rogers lies halfway underneath an overturned deck chair, end of the leash tied around his wrist and looped around one of the chairlegs. He moans a weak “Oww..”, and the Asset's blood drops to Sub-Zero degrees in an instant.
As fast as possible, the Asset crawls forward and flings the furniture off Handler Rogers body. When he looks up into the Asset's eyes it crumbles to the ground, incoherently begging for forgiveness with a voice it can't control or hear.
It doesn't so much as flinch when Handler Rogers gathers the Asset up in his arm and starts rocking it.
There's more water running down its cheeks, ragged breaths scraping its throat raw from the inside. Meanwhile Handler Rogers murmurs gentle words into its hair, telling it that, “Everything is alright,” and “I'm not mad,” “It was just an accident, the leash got snagged on the seat,”.
Slowly the Asset calms down, but it never stops trying to say, “Sorry, sir. So sorry. Sorry, sir. So sorry,” but it's not sure if the words come out right or in one long slur.
“Hey, can you hear me, Asset? Are you with me?” The questions ring clear in the Asset's ears. Handler Rogers expects an answer. Handler Rogers is giving it a chance to serve, to show a willingness to make up for the bad behavior. The Asset must answer.
The asset can't hear itself when it tries to say, “Yes, sir. T-the Asset is ready to receive its next mission, sir.”
“O-okay,” comes the faint response. “Good job, Asset. You're doing such a good job for me. Give me a status report.”
After a quick survey it says, “The Asset is unharmed and fully operational within standard safety parameters, sir.”
“G-good job.” Handler Rogers clears his throat with a wet gurgle. “Do you remember what just happened?”
The Asset nods. A wavering “Yes, sir,” silently leaves its lips.
“Alright. Can you tell me what was going through your mind? Right now I'm a little bit confused on the details.”
Handler Rogers is willing to listen to the Asset before agents Wilson, to hear its side of things. The Asset doesn't deserve that. It was bad, almost attacking an avenger. It is bad for clinging to Handler Rogers like it's the victim, like it's a person deserving the comfort.
It must do right by Handler Rogers.
“Permission to speak, sir?”
“Yes, of course! You can alwa-I mean, permission granted, Asset.”
Handler Rogers probably just stumbled over his words so the the Asset ignores the first part of that. “The Asset is not secured, sir.”
Handler Rogers goes still. “What do you mean?”
The Asset just shakes its head. “The Asset is not secured, sir!”
The next moment they are both moving. Handler Rogers carries the Asset in his arms as he rushes to the elevator door that open for them automatically. A quick sucking sensation in the belly tells the Asset that the elevator almost drops them completely into a free fall. With another dizzying stomach flip a second later the doors open to their floor. Once they’re inside Handler Rogers pushes the door closed with a shoulder, not letting go of the Asset for a moment.
“The Asset is secured, sir.” It murmurs shyly.
Handler Rogers takes a deep breath, sagging against the door. “Good.” The relief is palpable in his voice. “Let's talk on the sofa, okay?”
The Asset suddenly realizes Handler Rogers still doesn't understand the gravity of the situation. It had expected punishment right away, but it never explained why that was. After Handler Rogers finds out will he be angry with the Asset? Will he push it away? Tell it that it can't have the special reward?
None of that matters. Only Handler Rogers matters. The Asset must be good for him, even when it has been bad. Especially when it has been bad.
They’re by the sofa in no time. The Asset puts its chin where Handler Rogers pats his thigh, kneeling once more before him.
“Okay, let's take this from the top.” The Asset doesn't know where to start. It goes to open its mouth but nothing comes out. Mercifully, Handler Rogers seems to understand. “It looked like Sam startled you, is that what happened?”
The Asset nods. “Yes, sir. But…” it falters.
“Okay then. That means it wasn't your fault. I'll be sure to warn you next time.” Handler Rogers smiles as he says it, stroking its head like a dog. The Asset's head spins, ‘next time’? Handler Rogers is giving it one more chance to prove itself useful outside? “And the other part? What was the other thing you wanted to say?” Handler Rogers prods, curious but not angry. Though he surely will be soon.
It can't look him in the eyes. “The Asset broke a rule, sir,” it whimpers.
Handler Rogers stops petting for a moment, holding his breath. “Which rule?”
This is torture. Handler Rogers always asks questions right before a punishment. Like amputating a limb in the most gentle and careful way possible still hurts just as much when you don't have any anesthetic.
Handler Rogers isn't a cruel handler like the ones from before. He's caring and fair, but his punishments are ten times as horrible simple because they don't really hurt the Asset either. Punishment is supposed to hurt. The fact that Handler Rogers never hurts the Asset in any meaningful way just puts the Asset's place in perspective. A reminder that it doesn't deserve him.
Nothing could possibly drive the Asset to obey more than that, yet it still fails at every corner.
“‘The Asset is not to be utilized for combat purposes’, sir. The Asset attempted to attack agent Wilson, sir.”
“What do you mean? You were wearing the safety gear, weren't you?” Handler Rogers asks, confused.
Here it comes. Handler Rogers will be disgusted with the Asset. He'll reject it and make it sleep on the floor like last night. The day is ruined, the Asset has been bad.
“The Asset was only partially restrained, sir. It would have wrestled agent Wilson to the ground and broken his neck using only its arms, sir.” The Asset doesn't even try to sound regretful, nothing could ever convey how sorry it is for the innumerable transgressions it has made.
“Oh.” Handler Rogers doesn't sounds angry, just so, so disappointed. The Asset 'wants’ to sink through the floor and disappear. “I-I’m so sorry, B-...Asset. That was my mistake.”
Handler Rogers made a mistake trusting the Asset around people. Water starts pouring out of its eyes like a broken floodgate, unstoppable. A wretched sound escapes it's throat, as horrid and raw and ugly as the Asset itself. It can't control itself. There's a cold-burning knife in its chest.
Handler Rogers gathers the Asset up in his arms once more, rocking it to sleep.
Fill: Asset Management 7/?
Hi! Sorry for the long wait. School has been killing me recently, but I kept chugging along with this thing and here we are.
I didn't initially intend to go in the direction that I did. But some dark part of me whispered awful things in my head and I couldn't resist the temptation.
Just know that this is still intended to end up as good day for the Asset.
Before I continue I would just like to reiterate that:
Some of you may have noticed a similarity between Asset Management and many of Dsudis's works.
This is not a coincidence. I was hugely inspired by their stories such as 'Dinner for Two', 'A Thread of Light' and their currently ongoing AMAZING 'All These Burning Hearts in Hell' series.
Dsudis is truly the giant on who's shoulders I stand. They were the one who introduced me to the breathtaking dumpster world.
If it weren't for them, I would never have started writing Asset Management.
If you like hurt!Bucky being comforted by heartbroken!Steve, but haven't read their stories then head over to Dsudis at
http://dsudis.tumblr.com
Or
http://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis
For amazing feels, top notch writing and the friendliest space you will ever find this side of the internet.
I just wanted to give proper credit where it is deserved.
Thank you all!
------
The elevator ride to the tower roof is silent. Everything is silent with the ear buds in. Up until the Asset's stomach makes a small jump, then when the doors don't open right away Handler Rogers says, “It seems we weren't the only ones who planned on enjoying the good weather. Doctor Banner is leading Natasha and Sam in a yoga exercise on the grass field, so we'll have to take the sun chairs instead.”
The Asset gulps. Agents Black Widow and Falcon are on the other side of the still closed elevator doors. Along with Subject Hulk. It hadn't expected seeing anyone else quite this soon, practically right out the gate.
There is a reason the doors haven't opened yet, the Asset realizes. Why Handler Rogers saw fit to share the information he most likely just now received from JARVIS. He wants to test the Asset, see if it can control itself.
The Asset rolls its jaw, muzzle shifting comfortably with the motion. Fists flex, toes curl, cage and lock secure, the leash hangs slack in an arch from Handler Rogers's hand to the Asset's collar. It is safe.
It doesn't hear itself say, “The Asset is safe, Sir,” but Handler Rogers does. He leans its head against his thigh with a steady hand. The Asset breathes in the scent of warm skin, bathing shorts and sunscreen. The words “Good job,” reverberates down his strong leg into the Asset's skull.
“You'll be safe with me. You won't do anything to them, and they won't do anything to you.” after a moment Handler Rogers wraps the lead around his hand, shortening the slack so that the Asset won't be able to get more than a foot and a half away from him without pulling the leash tight. A reminder and promise both.
The Asset does not look up. It has to be on its best behavior now that it's around people. Or else Handler Rogers might let someone else punish it while he relax in the sun. It's never come to that before with Handler Rogers, but Hydra often had people who volunteered to punish the Asset.
The Avengers are an unknown. It doesn't have a psyche profile on any of them, It doesn't know if one of them might be a sadist, so it has to be on its best behavior.
Disappointing Handler Rogers is bad enough because he isn't a sadist, so he doesn't enjoy punishing the Asset, but that just means it makes him that much more unhappy when it is bad.
The elevator doors open, revealing the bright morning sky. Smog-filtering blimps drift in the clear blue, proudly proclaiming ‘Stark Industries New Green Initiative’. The outside wind tousles their hair.
Handler Rogers step forward. The Asset spies the other Avenger members to the side as it follows him. They are gathered on the grass like Handler Rogers said, sitting cross-legged on light grey gymnastic mats. The asset refrains from pointing out the purposeless waste of space if they aren't even going to sit on the soft grass directly. If Handler Rogers still wants to use the Asset as a recliner like last time then it will endure the hard deck floor without complaint.
The roof terrace is beautifully arranged with curling walkways of cobble and combed white sand areas. There's a peanut shaped swimming pool and a hot tub with an infinity edge overlooking the side of the building. There's even a shaded bar with swiveling high stools.
The agents had to take the circular patch of lush grass for their yoga mats though.
Handler Rogers walks up to the deck chairs, and motions for the Asset to stay at the foot end. When he sits down on the seat and leans back. Something inside its chest shrivels, the Asset hangs its head: it doesn’t deserve to serve Handler Rogers like it did on the grass.
Handler Rogers had been lying on the bare grass resting his head and shoulders on the Asset's stomach where it lay perpendicular to him. He had been smiling in the sun just like he does now. If Handler Rogers doesn't want to use the Asset it will wait obediently for him to find a use. Handler Rogers always finds the best uses for the Asset.
Then Handler Rogers props his feet on its back. The Asset looks up, startled. It sees Handler Rogers put his hands behind his head. His smile warms the Asset more than the sunlight bearing down on it. For a moment the Asset can't look away. Handler Rogers is so beautiful when he smiles it becomes paralyzed like a deer in headlights.
The spell breaks when Handler Rogers looks away, attention called by something the Asset can neither see or hear, but he nods in the direction of the grassy area so the Asset assumes one of the agents said something. It turns its head back to the ground, the warmth staying with it.
It did good. The grass doesn't matter. The yoga mats don't matter. The agents don't matter. The only thing that matters is that the Asset can please Handler Rogers just like this. Taking a shower, putting away dishes, applying sunscreen, even just something as small as being a footstool for Handler Rogers is enough. It doesn't even have to move anywhere or do anything.
It's so easy to please Handler Rogers, to earn smiles, gentle touches like hugs and even rewards. The Asset doesn't deserve Handler Rogers. Worse, the Asset is selfish and greedy for 'wanting’ to stay with him when it knows he deserves better than a used-up Asset not even good in a fight.
...
There's someone standing over the Asset. An intruder? Handler Rogers hasn't moved, possibly asleep, unaware and vulnerable. The target hasn't moved further, hesitating? The Asset can drop them to the floor, establish a headhold in the crock of its elbows, twist its arms and break the target's neck.
A dark skinned hand slowly places a glass of pale yellow liquid with a straw in front of the Asset's face. The Asset looks up sharply. Agent Wilson pulls his hand back as if burned. Though he keeps a wary smile as he meets the Asset's gaze evenly. He opens his mouth to say something but the Asset looks away, turning to Handler Rogers to wake him up.
It finds Handler Rogers wide awake, taking in the scene with calm interest.
Only then does the Asset realize what it nearly did.
With a jolt, the Asset pulls back out from underneath Handler Rogers's feet. Turning over the drink in front of it by accident. The breaking glass, though soundless, is enough to drive the Asset into a blind panic.
It bolts away from from the tall dark man and the spilled drink and the grasping hands and the cutting whips and electric batons and too wide toys splitting it in two as the people laugh-
The leash goes taut and tugs the Asset back with a yank that sends it spinning. The Asset scrambles like an insect flipped on its back. Once it manages to get the right side up again the Asset looks back at what it was fleeing from, disoriented.
Handler Rogers lies halfway underneath an overturned deck chair, end of the leash tied around his wrist and looped around one of the chairlegs. He moans a weak “Oww..”, and the Asset's blood drops to Sub-Zero degrees in an instant.
As fast as possible, the Asset crawls forward and flings the furniture off Handler Rogers body. When he looks up into the Asset's eyes it crumbles to the ground, incoherently begging for forgiveness with a voice it can't control or hear.
It doesn't so much as flinch when Handler Rogers gathers the Asset up in his arm and starts rocking it.
There's more water running down its cheeks, ragged breaths scraping its throat raw from the inside. Meanwhile Handler Rogers murmurs gentle words into its hair, telling it that, “Everything is alright,” and “I'm not mad,” “It was just an accident, the leash got snagged on the seat,”.
Slowly the Asset calms down, but it never stops trying to say, “Sorry, sir. So sorry. Sorry, sir. So sorry,” but it's not sure if the words come out right or in one long slur.
“Hey, can you hear me, Asset? Are you with me?” The questions ring clear in the Asset's ears. Handler Rogers expects an answer. Handler Rogers is giving it a chance to serve, to show a willingness to make up for the bad behavior. The Asset must answer.
The asset can't hear itself when it tries to say, “Yes, sir. T-the Asset is ready to receive its next mission, sir.”
“O-okay,” comes the faint response. “Good job, Asset. You're doing such a good job for me. Give me a status report.”
After a quick survey it says, “The Asset is unharmed and fully operational within standard safety parameters, sir.”
“G-good job.” Handler Rogers clears his throat with a wet gurgle. “Do you remember what just happened?”
The Asset nods. A wavering “Yes, sir,” silently leaves its lips.
“Alright. Can you tell me what was going through your mind? Right now I'm a little bit confused on the details.”
Handler Rogers is willing to listen to the Asset before agents Wilson, to hear its side of things. The Asset doesn't deserve that. It was bad, almost attacking an avenger. It is bad for clinging to Handler Rogers like it's the victim, like it's a person deserving the comfort.
It must do right by Handler Rogers.
“Permission to speak, sir?”
“Yes, of course! You can alwa-I mean, permission granted, Asset.”
Handler Rogers probably just stumbled over his words so the the Asset ignores the first part of that. “The Asset is not secured, sir.”
Handler Rogers goes still. “What do you mean?”
The Asset just shakes its head. “The Asset is not secured, sir!”
The next moment they are both moving. Handler Rogers carries the Asset in his arms as he rushes to the elevator door that open for them automatically. A quick sucking sensation in the belly tells the Asset that the elevator almost drops them completely into a free fall. With another dizzying stomach flip a second later the doors open to their floor. Once they’re inside Handler Rogers pushes the door closed with a shoulder, not letting go of the Asset for a moment.
“The Asset is secured, sir.” It murmurs shyly.
Handler Rogers takes a deep breath, sagging against the door. “Good.” The relief is palpable in his voice. “Let's talk on the sofa, okay?”
The Asset suddenly realizes Handler Rogers still doesn't understand the gravity of the situation. It had expected punishment right away, but it never explained why that was. After Handler Rogers finds out will he be angry with the Asset? Will he push it away? Tell it that it can't have the special reward?
None of that matters. Only Handler Rogers matters. The Asset must be good for him, even when it has been bad. Especially when it has been bad.
They’re by the sofa in no time. The Asset puts its chin where Handler Rogers pats his thigh, kneeling once more before him.
“Okay, let's take this from the top.” The Asset doesn't know where to start. It goes to open its mouth but nothing comes out. Mercifully, Handler Rogers seems to understand. “It looked like Sam startled you, is that what happened?”
The Asset nods. “Yes, sir. But…” it falters.
“Okay then. That means it wasn't your fault. I'll be sure to warn you next time.” Handler Rogers smiles as he says it, stroking its head like a dog. The Asset's head spins, ‘next time’? Handler Rogers is giving it one more chance to prove itself useful outside?
“And the other part? What was the other thing you wanted to say?” Handler Rogers prods, curious but not angry. Though he surely will be soon.
It can't look him in the eyes. “The Asset broke a rule, sir,” it whimpers.
Handler Rogers stops petting for a moment, holding his breath. “Which rule?”
This is torture. Handler Rogers always asks questions right before a punishment. Like amputating a limb in the most gentle and careful way possible still hurts just as much when you don't have any anesthetic.
Handler Rogers isn't a cruel handler like the ones from before. He's caring and fair, but his punishments are ten times as horrible simple because they don't really hurt the Asset either. Punishment is supposed to hurt. The fact that Handler Rogers never hurts the Asset in any meaningful way just puts the Asset's place in perspective. A reminder that it doesn't deserve him.
Nothing could possibly drive the Asset to obey more than that, yet it still fails at every corner.
“‘The Asset is not to be utilized for combat purposes’, sir. The Asset attempted to attack agent Wilson, sir.”
“What do you mean? You were wearing the safety gear, weren't you?” Handler Rogers asks, confused.
Here it comes. Handler Rogers will be disgusted with the Asset. He'll reject it and make it sleep on the floor like last night. The day is ruined, the Asset has been bad.
“The Asset was only partially restrained, sir. It would have wrestled agent Wilson to the ground and broken his neck using only its arms, sir.” The Asset doesn't even try to sound regretful, nothing could ever convey how sorry it is for the innumerable transgressions it has made.
“Oh.” Handler Rogers doesn't sounds angry, just so, so disappointed. The Asset 'wants’ to sink through the floor and disappear. “I-I’m so sorry, B-...Asset. That was my mistake.”
Handler Rogers made a mistake trusting the Asset around people. Water starts pouring out of its eyes like a broken floodgate, unstoppable. A wretched sound escapes it's throat, as horrid and raw and ugly as the Asset itself. It can't control itself. There's a cold-burning knife in its chest.
Handler Rogers gathers the Asset up in his arms once more, rocking it to sleep.
------