Since the attack on New York, which included the grand appearance of the Avengers as Earth's heroes, the Captain America history exhibit was as popular as ever. The discovery of the revival of the Super Soldier was an astounding spectacle to the public. With youngsters and elders alike, the place was crowded with people looking around various objects lived generations before. And now, chaos that occurred near the Potomac was rumoured to have Captain America involved in it, people flooded in to feed their curiosity about the national hero.
Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both school yard and battlefield.
Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country.
The mission was right.
The Winter Soldier's stony gaze was fixated, unblinking as a maelstrom of spontaneous horror and inexplicable relief permeated his senses. His stare was magnetised by the heroic memorial which stood proudly in front of him. His mind attempted to decipher the meaning of it and comprehend the alien emotions that were swirling rapidly, like the birth of a tornado, beneath his stoic mask.
He could feel his indifferent expression crumble slowly. His permanent impassive features softened imperceptibly: it was a sign of weakness; something he wasn't allowed to feel.
The Winter Soldier was designed to be a machine, engineered to only kill and serve. He was a tool; mere property, and he began to accept it with bitter acquiescence. Years of violent physical and torturous mental abuse thrashed the resilience out of him a long time ago. He'd learnt that co-operation with his handlers meant the sooner the better.
But he subconsciously welcomed it: the warming feeling that felt like an elusive drop of calmness in the confusing chaos he was imprisoned in inwardly. Familiarity shot through his veins as he continued to train his eyes on every inch of the photo that was covering most of the glass. However, his brain couldn't fathom how he, The Winter Soldier- a cold-blooded assassin- could be that man. That man children look up to with eyes gleaming of awe; chattering to friends about the soul of an old savior. That man who veterans would pay respects to for his audacious actions and patriotic symbolism. And that man grandfathers would retell stories of adventures and valiance of Captain America and his best friend in the 1940s to their inquisitive grandchildren.
Was that him?
His eyes flickered to a black and white photo of Bucky Barnes and Captain America, laughing at the camera with huge smiles, eyes beaming with youthful excitement. Instinctively, something made him think they were laughing at an inside joke.
The Winter Soldier pursed his lips. Logic seemed to constantly question the truth. Was that him once upon a time? (XD sorry I had to) He pondered silently, swayed by the piercing thought. Doubt grew like cancer when he read further on.
The biography engraved honourable showed the story of a noble man who sacrificed his life to help protect his country; it was a stark contrast to himself. Only they seemed to have the same face and the same eyes. The same occupation. But they lived different lives.
James Buchanan Barnes had a young handsome face, and The Winter Soldier's was aged prematurely from intermittent years of torment. Bucky's eyes were full of humour, optimism and determination; The Winter Soldier were full of regret, resentment and perplexity. Bucky had friends and family, but The Winter Soldier had orders and missions. The Winter Soldier is a deadly assassin; Bucky Barnes was a selfless hero.
After being relentlessly brainwashed from any precious fragments or inkling of recollection, he became nothing but a empty shell of his former self. HYDRA's downfall meant he was free; he had a choice, the miraculous chance to exercise his free will since his fall to evil (literally). But he could hardly remember life with free will; he didn't understand how to adjust to life that wasn't dictated by someone else. If anything, he felt entrapped by his bewildering past... but it was far from threatening.
Bucky: the name insistently scratched at the back of his mind. Since it was uttered, he knew automatically he should recognise the name. The first name other than "experiment", "weapon" or "asset" someone had called him in several decades. An actual name. But whenever he thought he almost grasped a small piece of his shattered memories, it would suddenly disappear into the dark depths of the abyss in his mind. Yet it still sparked something.
Like home.
Hell no, that little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight, I'm following him.
And it was that infinitesimal spark that, for the first time in nearly a century, made him realise what hope felt like.
In the midst of the mayhem he wasn't sure about who he was any more. He was not Bucky Barnes, the charming childhood friend of Steven Grant Rogers. But he didn't want to be The Winter Soldier, HYDRA's greatest and ruthless assassin. He didn't want to be coerced to hurt innocent people any more. But there was one thing he was certain about:
He knew Steve.
I'm with you 'til the end of the line, pal. He remembered.
I believe Sebastian Stan is a highly underrated actor! He's AMAZING. I really love how his face is so expressive! He's the perfect Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier.
WHO'S READY FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR? I KNOW I AM.
I hope you enjoyed reading this little story, and I would gladly appreciate it a lot if you left a review on your thoughts about this. Thanks!