Bucky woke up in a cold sweat his fists clenched the thin blanket that was barely keeping him warm. It had been a few days after he went to see the exhibit about Steve Rodgers, the man he was sent to kill, and James Buchanan Barnes. The man shown in the exhibit was not him. The thought crossed his mind that it may have been him before. Hell it probably was. But it was not him anymore. He could not go back to the man that was depicted in the pictures and quotes that plastered the walls. He couldn't doubt that hydra had messed with his mind, and his body. Erasing all memories; or what they could at least of his old life. The thought of him turning into a monster compared to the man he was before scared him. And not many things could in fact, scare him. This scared him enough to stay up all night, thinking of all of the endless possibilities, and when he did get sleep he would often have night terrors. The dreams of killing no longer had a happy place in his mind. Bucky could now see through the mask of what he was before and for the first time he could hear the genuine screams of people. He heard the pleas for their lives ringing clearer than ever in his head now. Hundreds of innocent peoples voices in unison. But one stood out. The man that hydra told him was the most important mission he would ever partake in: Steve Rogers. A swelling rage arose in his chest as he stared at the peeling ceiling of the motel room. His existence was not only meant for killing. He was not a machine that followed orders anymore. Steve Rogers is; or was, his friend. They went into battle together or so was said. What had happened to him to get into the hands of hydra scientists? He only knew himself as the winter soldier, a ghost. He was merely a deranged experiment, poked and prodded by scientists to see how far they could push his limits. His heart was now pounding, and he could feel the sweat drip down his face. Tossing the blanket down he swung his legs over the side of the bed and checked the clock; 4:21, the time no longer surprised him. Mostly because he was used to camping out for 12 hours at a time just watching a target. Getting up and running a hand through his greasy long hair he made his way to the cramped bathroom and flicked on the lights. He stared himself the mirror. Dead eyes only stared back at him. Lifeless and emotionless. How many people have looked into his eyes asking to be spared from his terror? He had no compassion back then, would he ever be compassionate again? With his non-prosthetic arm he bunched his hair up trying to make it look shorter, trying to make himself look like James Barnes. As soon as it was pushed back enough he could see it clear as day how much he resembled the man. In the back of his mind he knew he was James Barnes, or Bucky like Steve had said. Letting his hair drop back to normal length he let his anger go, punching the mirror with his metal arm. The sound of breaking glass made him feel powerful. Now when he looked at himself in the mirror he only saw a broken man. He splashed his face with cold water before hearing a creaking sound come from outside of the bathroom. His instincts took over and he grabbed a chunk of broken glass from the mirror. He squeezed it tight ready to fight, not being sure if it was hydra that had found him or someone else. He flicked off the lights, now both people in his house were in the dark. He took a few moments to let his eyes re-adjust to the light then quietly exited the room. A figure of a man was standing in the doorway, the light from the moon outside cast shadows around the room and he could make out the face perfectly. It was Steve Rogers, un-armed and in casual clothing. The muscles in his neck tensed, Steve had picked a bad time to drop by. Instinct taking over he quickly walked towards Steve, the same dead look in his eyes that had only scared him a few minutes ago. Only hearing a quiet "Wait" before he grabbed Steve's shirt collar in his empty hand and spun him around backing him up quickly. His blue eyes bore into Steve's skull. "Why are you here?" He said in a menacing tone. With all of his strength he forced him onto the floor before Steve could answer, his metal arm pinning down Steve and in his opposite hand he held the piece of glass. A few drops of his own blood dripped onto Steve's shirt, the glass had cut his hand a while ago but he could not remember he was numb to the pain, the only thing on his mind now was his overdue mission. "Do you realize how hard it is to not kill you right here?" He asked again, now holding the glass up against Steve's neck roughly and it split a small part of delicate skin. "You saved me from drowning. Trust me and I can help you, Bucky." Steve croaked, struggling under Bucky's grip. Trust him? For a moment Bucky's brain snapped back, there was no more rage directed at Steve, only the scientists now. "From who I was before, my values are lost. I will never be the man I was before. Do you understand that the people I killed I did not see them as people I saw them as targets, merely cattle." He screamed backing away from Steve. "Just drop the glass Bucky" Steve said softly now getting up off the floor and rubbing the spot where skin broke on his neck. "I am not Bucky Barnes" He yelled again, this time throwing the glass violently on the floor. Bucky's motel room was a mess, there was broken glass and his own blood spattered on the floor. The easiest option for him now was to run, or kill. Both of which he did not want to do, but he knew he wasn't ready to talk to Steve. In a few weeks perhaps he would stop by, maybe cleaned up maybe not. This time he wouldn't be stupid enough to get a motel room that was easily traceable, staying on the streets was probably his best bet. "Bucky don-" Steve trailed off as bucky grabbed his mask and knives off of the table not too far from the door and fled into the darkness, with no intent on coming back.
Steve closed the motel door, it looked as though Bucky wasn't coming back. For a while at least. He rummaged through the drawers in the room to find a clue, anything to where Bucky might be going. O course there was nothing. He walked into the bathroom to check his neck and he stopped dead in his tracks. There was a blood written message on the shattered mirror. Steve's heart dropped as he read "JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES IS NOW A MONSTER". Steve touched the message gently with his finger tips a sadness heavy in his chest. "Oh Bucky…" He trailed off whispering.