Interference

All characters belong to Marvel Comics

(Special thanks to my amazing editor)

"I just want you to forget about me," Bucky scowled, turning his eyes away in disdain. "I'm not worth it."

"You're worth more than that, Buck." Steve could barely contain the tears pricking in his eyes. He enclosed his arm over the torn material of his uniform, stopping the blood from pouring out. "You will always be my friend…" He took a heavy breath, and leveled his firm stare on the brainwashed assassin. "My best friend."

"It doesn't matter anymore…" Bucky seethed, his deep voice threatening to crack. His obscured blue eyes, so astray with light yet guarded, just stared down at the super-soldier. His body was motionless, no expression on his face. His full lips were pressed into a tight line; clearly he was fighting off the pain erupting from his broken arm.

"I need to go…" He shifted his gaze systematically towards the direction of the thick, wild shrubs, and released a strained breath that he had been holding.

"It's not safe for you to be around me. I'm dangerous," he warned quietly, and then he paused in his words; and sloshed over in his wet boots to the shore. He bent down slowly, wincing, and picked up the shield with his metal hand. Steve grimaced as he listened to the metal plates contort into a solid mass of alloy and watched the silent assassin carefully inspect the red and silver painted rings.

A twist of Bucky's chilled lips revealed to Steve that he remembered the circular offensive weapon.

"Do you remember how it happened?" Steve asked, slowly easing his back off the muddy ground. He gritted his teeth, and clamped his eyes shut for a moment. "How you died, Buck?"

"I thought I was already dead?" Bucky said in a low despondent grumble, averting his nonchalant glare from Steve. Tears sat in his glassy blue eyes. He took another involuntarily step back, and released a deep breath. Snapping his eyes down, he withheld his tears; his lips slowly parted, he hesitated momentarily and then cleared his clogged throat in short breath, "I remember falling into snow, and listening to man's voice screaming out my name as I descended through the ice. After I awoke… Nothing really stayed with me."

"That's not true, Buck." Steve digressed, grinding his back teeth, as his vision blurred into a gray haze. "They might have taken your mind, but never your heart. You're a good man…No matter what they've done to you, James Barnes."

"There are no more good men left," Bucky growled back, the sharp clench of his lightly stubbled jaw revealing his indignation as he cradled his broken arm against the leather of his vest. "Everything I've done seems like it means nothing…Almost as if I wasn't the one pulling the trigger."

Steve felt his heart sink.

"I feel nothing…" he breathed harshly, wiping the smears of blood from his chin. "There are just the strings holding me down. I know that I will never be free."

"Don't you dare say that, soldier!" Steve affirmed, lifting his body off the ground. "Freedom will always live in men like us…Zola may have taken your mind, but never your heart." He pointed a trembling gloved hand to his shield. "I know there is still good inside you, Buck. You just need to believe that I will find a way to cut off the strings…"

Bucky didn't want to be free. He just didn't. He was programmed to live as a merciless weapon with HYDRA's hardware attached to his flesh. Everything was shaking out of control. Pieces broke off from the red veil shrouding over his vision. He was barely functioning as a human being. It had been so long since he spoke without the condemning eyes breaking his voice with painful mistreat. It felt good to finally grasp the feeling of being a man again- even though his mind was fried into scrambled mush against his skull. He tried to forget the part of his life; the nightmares and the amounts of targets- lives he had taken under HYDRA's influence.

He tried to find redemption within himself.

Maybe he would find his peace within the eyes of a friend?

"Forget about me," he shot back coldly, the stale blood curling down his throat. His voice turned into shuddering pitches of breath. "I don't deserve to be saved… I don't deserve anything."

Steve coughed up more blood, his voice weak, "You deserve to know the truth, Buck."

"What is that?"

"You're my friend… My brother. I will never stop fighting for you." Steve declared with a firm cadence in his dimming voice. "You can push me away and break me, but I will just keep on picking myself up."

"Why?" he growled with the vicious edge of the Winter Soldier.

"That's what friends do, Buck. They never give up on each other."

He flicked his eyes downward and felt the urge to spew bile, the pressure in his abdomen was becoming unbearable to contain. The bullets were sinking further into the muscle and open tissue. Pain begun to surge in his veins, and he pressed his hand over his stomach, halting the blood flow. "I will never back down for you, pal." he screwed his eyes shut and hissed out a painful groan. "We may be soldiers who fight with valor and follow orders, but we're also more than that Bucky…"

Bucky felt his knees gave out from exhaustion, and crashed to Steve's side, "I never meant to hurt you," he said with desperate gleam in his pale blue eyes. "I was just following their orders."

"I know," Steve gave him a small nod. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize," he repeated softly, and extended his hand to grip Bucky's plated shoulder. "I know."

"No…!" Bucky screamed out in a spineless voice, he recoiled back, making Steve's hand slip from his arm. His heart was collapsing, pounding as violent flashes of red invaded his eyes. He tossed the shield into the trees, and lowered his head down, strands lashing over his cheeks as his fierce composure strained with emotions.

Steve had predicted how Bucky would react, memories being triggered, and HYDRA's control breaking. He had to stay close to his friend, no matter how much the price cost. "Bucky, I'm right here for you, pal." he spoke as still silence ripped from his lungs and tears cascaded over his bruised cheeks. He was fading, his head pounding with trepidation and ribs throbbing as he fought against the anguish weaving through his heart.

"I DON'T NEED YOU!"

Bucky growled darkly, his eyes stark blue and livid with uncontrollable emotions. He clenched his hand into a fist, and pounced on Steve, his wounded arm tucked under a strap as his metal hand raised and aimed directly over his opponent's skull. He rammed his knuckles into Steve's face, marking the skin and allowing more blood to seep out from the gashes. He was on a wild and uncontrollable rampage. His face contorted with pain, and teeth gnashed as he pounded his anger; jerking Steve's head until his hands were painted with red.

Everything was spinning. Steve tried to ease his full weight off the ground, but it was hard. He had been stabbed in the shoulder; the combat knife was still lodged in his muscle; dark maroon leaked from the wound. His mouth opened and blood spewed out as he tried to regain his voice.

"Bucky…" he gasped, praying for his friend to respond. "This isn't you… You know this isn't right." His weakened tone contained a sense of urgency as he looked up, his crystal blue eyes filled with the sting of tears, and jaw line smeared with blood. He stared at the merciless weapon, HYDRA's construction, made from the flesh and bones of his best friend. He stared into the soulless and confused gaze of the infamous Winter Soldier. A ghost that haunted him each time he closed his eyes.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes…" Glimpses of memories began to stir in Bucky's mind at those words, images of two young soldiers in uniform laughing and sipping whiskey filtered like a picture show. Then came a burning pain. A grim fragment of a lifeless body lying in the snow, left arm marred and skin white. The soldier was dead and left for winter to bury him with heavy snowfalls. He was frozen for years-waiting to be awakened, but he was never truly free from his nightmares-half alive. "You loved baseball, dames and daring me… You loved life itself, Bucky."

"Stop calling me that!" Bucky seethed out in a monstrous growl, his voice raised to heated levels of rage. Tears glossed over his steel azure eyes. He tore his enraged glower away; and raised his hand once more, threatening to aim the gleam of his knuckles at the silver star in the center of Steve's broad and armored chest. "You made me fail my mission…" he barred his redden teeth, dribbles of blood rolled over his heavy jaw, "You made me…INTO THIS!"

"I'm sorry, Buck." Steve broke down, biting down on his split lip, unable to stifle the sniffles. "I tried to reach for your hand-I just needed to move one more inch and I would have saved you from falling."

"What they've done to me can never be undone!" Bucky spat out with cold and resentful words. "Maybe I was this Bucky Barnes-Now, I'm the Winter Soldier. That is my existence and you're just someone just standing in my way… A target."

"Listen to yourself, Buck," Steve replied with urgency, trying to evoke a sense of humanity back into his friend. "You know that I will never hurt you."

Bucky chewed on his bottom lip, his hand fumbled over his soaked combat pants, and removed a knife from a pouch at his side, and he flipped it into the air and pointed the blade at Steve's throat.

His defensive barrier rose up again, blue eyes glinting as a savage expression transformed his face. "I don't know you," he whimpered. Terror filled his heart. His fingers curled tight over the handle of the knife and he felt the urge to kill.

"Then kill me, Bucky," Steve sucked in a deep breath, his voice distorted from tears. His face was drenched with blood. "End your mission like good soldier."

"I'm…I'm not good..." he stammered, drowning with choked sobs. "I'm bad…A monster. That's who I am."

"Prove it. Take your knife and finish me." Steve shouted, his heart pounding with irregular beats. He had one chance to reach his friend.

Better make this count, Rogers.

Tension was growing thicker. Death started to become impending to him.

Bucky hesitated in his thoughts; the hold on his weapon was slipping as his metal fingers twitched.

Make a move. Make it count.

Before Bucky stuck the blade into his throat, Steve, with a quick response of reflex, grabbed Bucky's wrist, twisting the metal arm upwards, and prying the knife from the assassin's clutch. He reeled himself up, crunching his stomach, and wrapped his arms around his friend's body. Steve held onto Bucky in a tight embrace, proving his brotherly love to the remorseless assassin. It had been a long time since he hugged his best friend.

At first, Bucky froze. He tensed with panic, and then thrashed and writhed as he tried to free himself from Steve's arm lock. In a moment of complete and utter confusion, he buried his head into Steve's shoulder, inhaling the stench of blood as he closed his eyes and cried against Steve's chest.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry," he sobbed in a wild screech of building anguish. He released long withheld emotions with every tear.

Steve lightly curved his lips into feeble smile, stroking his hand over Bucky's back. Strength was deserting him and he fell backwards, choking on the blood trickling down his throat. "Bucky…"

Bucky placed his metal hand underneath him, holding him close to his chest. Steve's body sagged completely. "You don't have to talk. I know what you're going to say…" He paused and looked down at his hand; his fingers were literally smeared with blood. He lifted his hand up, and stared at the black and sleek chopper slicing through the black fog hovering over the river. "Your friends are coming for you."

Then, he looked down at Steve for one final time, and said in a broken whisper, "If I am anything like the real James Barnes…I feel that he would say that he will always with you little punk…He will always have your back..." He eased himself to his full height and nodded, "Don't follow me…"

Steve shook his head in a slow motion, "If you walk away from this, Buck, I will follow you." he closed his heavy lidded eyes and he started to drift. "You can count on it."

Bucky lightly upturned his lips into a faint smirk, and then he limped away into the shadows, he never looked back at Steve. He just kept on walking, and felt familiar warmth enter his heart. He started to remember, and whispered, "It never stopped you before punk…"

Turning his eyes to the shield, Steve managed to hold a weak smile on his lips, "No it didn't, " he eased out a breathless sigh. "Jerk."