PROLOGUE

The Soldier had a new mission. No. Not The Soldier, he wasn't that anymore. He didn't really know who he was, but it didn't matter, the mission came first.

An old notebook was clenched tightly in his metal hand, he tried to relax his hold on it, but the arm didn't respond as well as it did before the helicarrier. In his other hand he held a picture, old and frayed around the edges, but his most important possession. A girl with big round eyes stared at him from the picture, full lips stretched in a smile, her hair in big soft curls against her shoulders. If he concentrated hard he could almost feel those curls slipping between his real fingers, remember their softness and their sweet smell. She was sitting in the snow, laying back against a rock, with a semi-automatic rifle lying beside her. He didn't remember how he had gotten that picture, but he knew it had always been his. On the back there was a number, coordinates, and two letters: S. R. Maybe, when he found her, he would take her there. Maybe there they could live in peace.

A small noise brought him back to the present. He pulled his cap lower, so it hid more of his face, and looked down from his perch on the fire escape. Must have been a rat, he thought. He opened the notebook and secured the picture inside. He had no time to lose, so he looked at his list for one last time before leaving. His messy handwriting filled the page: his first task was finding Bucky Barnes, that was what the men on the bridge had called him, so it must be important, perhaps finding Bucky could help him find her; his second task was finding a Hydra safe house where he could look for information, and destroy whoever was there, then he could finally go looking for her.

I have to find Bucky. Bucky Barnes. Who the hell is Bucky? His mind was in shambles, but he knew that in order to find Bucky, first he needed to discover what was his relationship with his last mission. Rogers, his handlers had called him. He felt like he had met him before, but he couldn't be sure. He couldn't be sure of anything. He'd had flashbacks in which the face of that man was prominent, but he didn't look the same, how could he know for sure that it was the same man?

He jumped from the stairs and landed silently on the alley, it was time to start looking for information on Rogers. That would take him to Bucky. It had to.

So he was Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. A Howling Commando. Captain America's friend. Or at least that was what the exhibit said. They said he was a hero. But he didn't know Bucky, didn't recognize himself in those pictures. The story felt familiar, even seeing Steve before the serum was familiar, but his mind couldn't reconcile the idea of Barnes and the Soldier being the same person. He thought that having more information would be of help, but the only thing it was doing was giving him a headache.

He had decided to leave the exhibit when he saw her. For a second he believed she was there, right in front of him, but it was just a picture. Why was she here?

"Sorry sir, we are about to close for the day, you need to leave".

The woman, a museum worker, had startled him so much he almost got the gun from his jacket. It's just a civilian, relax. He turned around and left as quickly as he could without calling attention to himself.

It hadn't been what he expected, at all, but the exhibit had been useful. He had info on Rogers, on himself. Only know he couldn't get that picture out of his head. She had looked different, younger, happier.

His mind was racing, his heart almost beating out of his chest. God, his brain was killing him. The not knowing was too much. He was too lost, if he wasn't able to relax himself, his training would take over. Perhaps that would be better. The Soldier would find her, he was more effective than Bucky or whatever he was now.

No. He had to get home. Then he would adjust the plan. If he wasn't on top of his game he would make mistakes, and making mistakes might be deadly. He wouldn't allow that. He had to find her.

His apartment, if one could call it that, was a dingy, dark thing on the outskirts of DC. Nobody would look for him here. The building had been abandoned mid-construction, so it wasn't the most comfortable, but he could defend himself there, that was the important part. Some wooden boards under the bed were loose, under them, he kept the basics: money, fake IDs, everything Hydra had had of him… and now a pamphlet from the exhibit with a picture of Steve Rogers in the cover. Pulling everything carefully inside again, he paused to inspect the only part of his file he'd had the guts to read. It said that they wiped his mind after every mission.

That's why my brain is fried, literally. His chuckle echoed in the almost empty room. It seemed he had started to remember something during his last mission, something about Steve, but Pierce had seen to it, making them wipe his memories again. However, there were things he didn't forget, even if they were hazy, some things never left his mind. The Morrígan was one of those things. That was what they called his partner. He now knew that the name didn't belong to her, it was something from Irish mythology, some kind of war goddess. He thought it was fitting, she was good at killing.

He shook his head, trying to expel her from his mind, if only for a few minutes. He had found Bucky, now he was going to find Hydra and then he was going to find her.

It was time to start hunting.

A/N: Hi! This is my first time posting here so I'm not sure if I did it right, it was a bit confusing. This story is a work in progress, but I will try to update as often as I can. English isn't my first language so if something sounds weird, please tell me! I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Marvel, I only own the OFC and her storylines.