Authors Note: So, here's a short on The Winter Soldier because I was having a case of the feels this morning. I whipped it up quickly, so I apologize if it's a little rushed or scrambled. Anyway, Hyrda builds a time machine, sends Bucky in it to kill Steve before he gets strong and what not. However, they can only send him back so far before it kills him.
Thank you
They told me to find Steve Rogers. Find him and kill him. They said not to kill Bucky Barnes who would most likely be with my victim. Why shouldn't I kill him? It doesn't matter. A mission is a mission. You don't ask questions.
They put me in a machine. Every cell in my body tried to escape, burning me from the inside. I was blinded by redness for a very long time. But it ended abruptly, and then there was cool air and I was lying on the ground.
Once I was oriented, I stood. It was dusty. Buildings stood about.
Children had been playing the street, but now looked at me in terror. None were Steve Rogers. I had been shown what he looked like, so I knew.
I glanced around. Kill Steve Rogers and anyone who gets in the way, except for Barnes.
I began walking down the street, passing the children who ran from me. Something I'm used to.
As I walked further, a police officer stopped me. I tried pushing past him, but he grabbed me. So, I took him by the neck and squeezed.
Kill Steve Rogers and anyone who gets in the way.
The police man was beginning to go purple when someone shouted.
"Let him go!"
I glanced over my shoulder and saw a small boy. Anyone could have mistaken him for a child, but I knew he was eighteen. That's what they told me anyway.
I heard the snap of bones after gripping the man's neck harder.
The man crumpled to the ground as I released him. I slowly turned my head and saw him standing down the street. He was small. Short and skinny with a look of fear and boldness. A strange combination. I suppose he wasn't expecting that I would kill the man.
"What are you doing?!" He shouted, voice quaking.
Yes, that was him. That was Steve Rogers.
I advanced towards him. It would be so easy. He was so small, it would be like crushing a child.
The boy took a step back, but his facial expression became more determined. His lips pressed together and his brows furrowed.
"Who are you?" He called out again. Of course, I gave no answer. There was no need to.
I was so close now. I stretched out my hand towards him, took a few steps more, and grabbed at him. He dodged me, however, and stepped to the side.
"Hey! How-How is your arm like- like that? What on earth are you trying to do?"
I turned to him and gave him my first answer.
"Kill you."
Steve's eyes widen and he backed away.
"Wha- you don't mean seriously..."
But I reached out again and he knew I meant it.
"You can't. My friend, Bucky. My friend is coming here. He'll get help and you won't be able to."
Bucky. That was the one I wasn't supposed to touch. But he wasn't here. Yet. I'd have to hurry.
I reached out. Steve dodged away again, but I was ready this time and grabbed him with my other hand. I slammed the cold knuckles of my silver hand into his jaw. He cried out and staggered to the wall of a building. I took a short step up to him and slammed him against it and pushed him up by his neck.
"Don't," He slurred, swinging a limp fist at me. I grabbed his wrist and slammed his arm against the wall. He cringed in pain and squirmed against my hold.
My hand around his neck began to squeeze harder. He struggled wildly for breath. His dangling legs kicked at me, but I hardly felt it.
A voice cried out.
"Steve!"
My victim who was soon to be dead managed to wheeze out a single word.
"Bucky!"
And it triggered a distinct memory. This happened sometimes. I'd hear something that reminded me of something from my past... But I wasn't supposed to. It was a fault. All the same, it happened.
A small blond boy tied to a little oak tree. Probably bullies again.
Again?
He was wheezing. For some reason I knew that meant he needed his medicine.
Of course.
And then he looked at me and grinned.
"Bucky!" He wheezed out.
I snapped back and stared at him. He stared back, eyes wide and surprisingly scared for the Steve I usually knew as brave.
No. I didn't know him. Not at all.
But as I stared at those eyes, the puzzle began to slowly piece itself back together.
Steve stared at me. And then his mouth dropped slightly.
"B-Bucky?"
My own eyes grew wide. And before I could stop it, another answer left my mouth.
"Yes."
Steve's face twisted in confusion.
"But you were my friend," He choked.
I couldn't listen to it anymore.
I pushed him harder against the wall, and gripped his throat tighter. He stared right into my eyes before he fell limp in my hold.
"Steve, NO!" The voice screamed behind me.
Footsteps running fast.
And I began to feel something strange. In the pit of my stomach and in my heart. It was a dull ache. A throb.
Steve's body fell to the ground. I knelt beside him and pulled him into my arms, confused with myself.
What was I doing?
What was I feeling?
His still face was staring up towards the sky.
The footsteps neared. I now heard heavy breathing beside me. I turned and saw Bucky Barnes running at me, tears flooding down his face.
"Steve! Get away from him, you evil bastard! Steve, no!"
I dropped the body back down and rose. Bucky was now behind me. I turned to him.
He looked terrified, glancing to me and back to Steve Rogers, tears rolling down his cheek and off his clenched jaw. His lips were pressed tightly together in attempt to stop crying.
I turned away and began to walk.
Then I heard devastated sobbing behind me. Apparently I had done my job.
Bucky Barnes began calling for help in desperation and denial. I began to feel the ache stronger now. It was a strange feeling for having succeeded in such an important mission.
