AN: I re watched Winter Soldier last night and was hit with a huge need to write my own post Winter Soldier in depth Bucky recovering himself story. So i did! Hope you guys like it!

The Soldier stared at himself in the mirror. Just starred. Into the deep blue eyes, past the bruised and battered face, trying to see what the target had been saying. If he saw a real human being behind his eyes, perhaps the other man could be correct?

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes!"

The words continued to tug at the Soldier, torturing his completely barren mind until a phrase he swore he had once repeated broke into his head.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, 32557038.

He closed his eyes and shuddered, brief flashes of him weakly, desperately, repeating those words over and over again flew past his closed lids and it made the blood in his body run cold.

He clenched the frail bathroom sink in his metal hand until he felt it shatter beneath his fingers, crumbling to dust on the floor. He jerked back, pulling the offending limb away from the destruction and cradled it to his chest, almost like an infant.

He had to remember to be careful. So careful. Recapture was not an option anymore. His handlers would never control him again. Everything he did from this point was to protect himself. And the other man. Captain America.

The Soldier knew the Captain needed protecting, and he knew that before he could do anything to help the man he had to find out more, find out if Sergeant Barnes and he were really the same man, despite knowing deep down in his heart that they were.

He knew despite the terror that thought brought. He knew because when he closed his eyes, he saw flashes. A warm smile, caring eyes, and a spirit too big for a little body. Every little thing that came together to create that man. The Target. Rogers. Steve. His best friend who he had just tried to kill.

The Soldier bit back a sob and collapsed onto the cold floor. Not caring about his injuries, his pain, or lack of clothes. Only caring for the deep sense of guilt, running through his veins.

'Weapons don't have guilt. You're a weapon, Soldier, get over it!' He screamed to himself.

'A man does! And you were a man first.' A voice whispered into his mind.

"No!" he yelled out loud, barely stopping himself from punching a hole into the wall.

'You are. You're a man, with hopes and dreams. And memories.'

'Lies!'

'Suck it up Barnes, its true.'

"That's not my name!" he cried, pulling his knees to his chest and holding them tightly against him. "I'm not! I can't be anymore. I'm a monster now, a weapon, a tool!"

He couldn't hold back the tears any longer and let them fall in thick water droplets that clinked almost audibly against the metallic forearm.

He sat perfectly still and sobbed for what felt like hours, heavy breath stealing sobs. The tears finally brought him to the point of exhaustion and he collapsed there, falling into an unrestful fit of sleep on the linoleum floor.

When he awoke hours later everything hurt. There was a sharp pressure on his chest where he had fallen asleep pressed into metal. His neck was twisted in an odd angle and his legs were so cramped he could barely move them.

The pain was strange to him. He had been injured so many times he began to not even notice pain. Gun shots, stab wounds, broken bones, pulled ligaments and any other ailment he had ever had meant nothing to him. So why did sleeping like a curled up armadillo bother him?

'It's average pain.' The back of his mind supplied. 'Mundane human stiffness that you aren't used to.'

'I don't get human stiffness.' The Soldier growled back at the part of him he was beginning to realize was what was left of Barnes. 'I'm not allowed that sort of luxury.'

'Maybe not before, but you're free. Hydra has its claws out of you. It's time to remember who you are James.'

'I'm not James anymore!'

'Denial does not suit you.'

He groaned and stood with terrified thoughts of his strange subconscious being correct, or more accurately incorrect. Did he even have the ability to be James Barnes again?

'You have to. For him. For Steve.'

Somehow the Soldier knew he was right. The Captain needed him, and if he was completely honest with himself he needed The Captain.

'I can't be Barnes again without knowing who he really is. Who both of them are, Rogers as well.' He thought.

'The museum.' The little growingly obnoxious voice in his head supplied. 'The one you're too terrified to enter. Go. Now.'

He begrudgingly agreed and quickly made himself presentable, but also being as inconspicuous as possible. With his hair in a bun and a hat on his head, dressed simply in jeans and a dark jacket he prayed it was enough to keep attention off of him.

He stuck his hands into the deep pockets and slowly made his way to the Smithsonian, not having too far to walk having had the foresight to stay close. He knew that at some point he would be drawn to the exhibit.

'Didn't think it would be so soon.' He practically grumbled in his mind.

'Admit it you're chicken shit and you know it. Too damn afraid to have anything resembling Steve around you.'

'Stop calling him Steve!'

'It's who he is. Steve Rogers, and you love him.'

The Soldier halted his movements in a jerk, wishing he could glare at himself.

'Shut the fuck up Barnes. I'm a weapon, and weapons don't love.'

'You're James Barnes too you know. And you love his scrawny little ass.'

'He's not scrawny anymore.' He bit back and then glowered. He was beginning to agree with Barnes, to partially understand the words he said and it scared him not knowing why. The Soldier needed answers, and now.

He quickened his movements and all but ran the rest of the way, slowing only to casually enter the building. He paid with stolen cash and then kept his head down as he made his way to the Captain America exhibit.

His eyes widened the moment he entered, and his heart clenched tightly, a strange feeling shooting through him, as he took in the sights around him. It was intimidating and fight or flight instincts where telling him to hightail it out of there.

'Grow a pair.'

He resisted the urge to growl at himself and made his way to the corner, the one dedicated to James Buchanan Barnes.

He froze again at the giant copy of his face staring at him. It was most certainly his image, only gentler, freer. A proud look covered his features, his eyes strong and head held high. The Soldier recognized the basic appearance, the face, but the expression was foreign.

His chin was the same; minus a scar he couldn't remember receiving. The strong jaw held the same angle, with the same freckle right under the bone. But the lips, they couldn't possibly be the same. The Soldier never remembered smiling like that. A little cocky tilt of the mouth that was almost unnoticeable. Yet it was still a smile and as far as he knew, his own had never made that motion.

His nose was the same, which surprised him because he was certain the break along the ridge had happened on a mission at one point.

'It was broken so many times defending Steve's punk ass that nothing Hydra threw at you could damage it anymore.'

He shuddered at Barnes's words, the feeling of recognition and the fact that he knew it was true without any sort of doubt filled him with unease.

He pushed the feeling down and concentrated on the image again, passing by the structure of his cheekbones to stare into the proud eyes. Happy eyes. The ones that had seen love. He stared into the frozen grey orbs that he knew where really a sharp clear blue and begged anyone, anything, to let him know how that felt, what it looked like, just one more time.

A crowd leaving an adjoining room pulled his attention away. He glanced from the hanging and his gaze caught a small screen to his right. He took a step closer to see it more clearly and frowned down at the images.

A snippet of video was playing. It was of him, Barnes, as well as Rogers. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, and the brightest happiest smiles possible were on their faces.

The Soldier closed his eyes and was immediately sucked into his mind with pictures of that day flooding his thoughts.

He was laughing, his forehead almost resting on The Captain's broad shoulder. The man on his side lifted the arm and tossed it over his shoulders with a grin to the camera.

"He's definitely the closest person to me, right Buck?" Steve had asked giving him a pleased smile.

"Absolutely! I know I'll always be stuck with this punk here, no worries there!"

He received an even wider smile and a tight squeeze to the shoulders, genuine happiness spreading through his body.

The Soldier gasped and almost collapsed where he stood. Had that been real? The feelings of joy and love that he had felt looking at The Captains smile?

'Of course. I told you, you love him. Always have.'

The sudden urge to get out, to find his Captain and make sure he was safe flooded him and he almost sprinted out of the museum. Instead, he took a deep breath and calmly left, only to instantly hurry into the first shadowed alley he could find.

Once there he slid to the ground and stared in front of him, utterly lost as to what to do.

'You can't find him yet. Not while you still consider yourself The Soldier. Still unsure. Steve must remain safe!'

He completely agreed with Barnes. Nothing would ever happen to his Captain by his hand again. What could he do in the meantime? Sit in a hotel and beg memories to return?

'Help him?'

'How?' He snarked angrily.

'Destroy Hydra? Find help? Become James again? Any of those are good options.'

He snorted and shook his head. 'The Captain doesn't want James. He wants Bucky.'

'Same thing really. James is Bucky, and they are both you. Steve just wants you, but you have to feel like you first. Understand?'

He hesitated and then nodded to himself. He was made into the Winter Soldier, but deep down he was who the Captain had said.

"You're name is James Buchanan Barnes! You know me!" The voice resounded in his head and he stood, squared his shoulders and clenched his fists.

'My name was-'

'No is!'

He shook his head and hesitated before whispering out loud, "My name will be James Buchanan Barnes again, and I have always loved you."

With new determination he quickly headed back to the hotel. There was no way he could take back what he did to his Captain, but he could sure as hell help him. The only place he knew to start was by taking down the nearest Hydra base, to start the process of finding himself by knowing how he had become The Soldier. Only after knowing so could he hope to reverse it, and that was what he planned to do.