Hi, everyone! I know. It's been ages since I've posted anything at all! But on the bright side, I'm all moved into college now, I've got a job, and everything's working out. And plus, here we are with yet another psychological fanfiction. This time based off of the Marvel Cinematic Universe's Bucky Barnes.

What to expect: A series of short chapters that are mostly introspective. I start with the last time Bucky's memory got erased: towards the end of Captain America: the Winter Soldier, and then we end with all of Captain America: Civil War.

Trigger warnings: I will say that this gets just about as depressing as the Loki fanfiction I did called "The One Scepter". There are some suicidal thoughts and disjointed thinking. I really don't want this to hit too close to home with anybody, so if reading this gets too overwhelming for you, please close the story.

Anyways. Hope you all enjoy!

Through a Soldier's Eyes

Chapter One

Bucky! No!

"Strastnoye zhelaniye."

I'm with you to the end of the line, pal.

"Rzhavyye."

This isn't payback is it?

"Semnadtsat'."

You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?

"Rassvet."

Nah. That little kid from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight. I'm following him.

"Pech'."

Just go! Get out of here!

"9."

No! Not without you!"

"Dobrokachestvennyy."

How can I? You're takin' all the stupid with you.

"Vozvrashcheniye domoy."

Why am I in so much pain? And who is that screaming?

"Odin."

Who was that kid?

"Gruzovoy avtomobil'."

Something releases my head, and I pull myself up as best as I can, but the searing pain is too debilitating. Despite that, there's an odd calm in my mind. There's nothing.

"Soldat?"

I look up and find a man, a red book with a black star in his hand. I have no idea who he is, but he wears colors of high rank. He is my commander, and though I don't know exactly where I am, I know what to say. "Gotov k vypolneniyu." (1)

"We have a new assignment for you. Three targets. Level six," a low voice interjects.

A short, fifty-year-old blond man in a brown suit comes into view. He reaches behind him, and a soldier with a large, military-grade gun slung over his soldier hands him something. The blond man turns back to me and holds up the paper he was handed. It was a photograph of young man-early thirties, maybe?-with short blond hair and shield that-combined with his bright, militaristic uniform-made it look like an American flag threw up on him. The picture was taken in the middle of a battle, and the featured blond man was standing in the rubble of a ruined city. He was bleeding and bruised, like he had just finished fighting a war. I had never seen him before, but something tugs at the corner of my mind, making me feel like I know him.

"Soldier?"

I look up at the source of the sound and find the older man staring at me with a mixture of anger, curiosity and worry.

What is his name, anyways? I'm not supposed to ask questions, but I would still like to know.

"This man is the main target. Take him out before going after the others. His codename: Captain America," the suited man continues.

Captain America? What kind of a name is that?

Then again, what kind of name is Soldier? If that is my name at all. Soldier is a job, not a name.

"Pierce," a different man in a lab coat calls, catching the older man's attention. "A minute, please?"

Pierce must be his name. It's certainly better than Soldier.

Pierce and the lab coat-clad man move away from me and go to a corner of the room, meeting up with a dark-skinned man with shaggy black hair and body armor.

Some tension inside of me releases once the three of them become absorbed in their conversation, but I don't know why. Looking at them fills me with ice cold fear, but they had never done anything to me.

I think of the picture Pierce had shown me to take my mind off of the fear. I know that I've seen that...kid somewhere before, but I don't know where. I try to force myself to think back, but there's nothing beyond a few minutes ago. Nothing but blackness and pain. I know there used to be something in the pain-something I saw-but I can't remember what.

"Not a good idea," the lab coat man whispers. The sound is so low that I can only make out part of the conversation. "Memories can…He might not...He might…"

"...suggest we do….best we've got...give...run for...," Peirce responded.

"Agreed, but…" The three fall silent for a moment, and the black-haired man glances back at me before turning back to the others. "He's a brainwashed toy soldier. To see what we did to him, it would break his Captain's heart." (2) He raised his voice a little, like he was making sure that I heard him.

What did he mean "brainwashed"?

My head pulses so terribly that my eyes water. I move my hand to try and massage my temple, but my arm doesn't move. I glance down at myself and find thick metal cuffs latched around both of my arms.

The restraints suddenly release themselves as Pierce walks back up to me. "We know the general area of where he will be, but apart from that, you have to find him yourself. Security will be extremely high, but we have many people on the inside."

"I'm one of them," adds the armored man Pierce talked to. "I can keep some men off of your tail."

"The other two targets are highly skilled, as well," the lab coated scientist warns. "An African American man and a Caucasian woman: Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff. Wilson uses a machine that allows him to fly, and Romanoff is deadly with hand-to-hand combat."

"Rumlow and I have to go to the SHIELD compound sooner than you," Pierce continues. "Those here will prepare you for your mission."

Pierce quickly turns and walks out of the door to the tiled room, the black-haired and armored man-Rumlow, apparently-following closely. Rumlow glances back at me as he leaves with a look in his eye that I can't make sense out of.

The man in the lab coat walks up to me again with two others behind him. "Hold out your left arm," he ordered, though it wasn't in English. Evidently, I can understand Russian.

I comply to the order, and another man takes my silver arm and opens a panel, revealing wiring and other inner-workings. He works on it with a tool that makes sparks come out of it, and after a few moments, he closes the panel and locks it shut, nodding the the others.

There are three men around me, and their left arms aren't silver. Why is mine? I'm not wearing a shirt, so it's not a sleeve or other clothing.

The same man who talked with Pierce and Rumlow takes my right hand and pulls a needle that belongs to an IV drip out of my skin before ordering in Russian, "Soldier, stand."

I stand, and the other two men rush off, returning with a black uniform that had only one sleeve. The men unfold it and come towards me. My entire being fills with and ice cold fear as the approach me, but I remain where I stand, automatically holding my arms out for them to slip the black uniform over. Once the men finish, they back away again, but I am still afraid. I keep the emotion out of my expression and try to calm down, but the hard tightness of the uniform makes it difficult to breath deeply.

One of the men turns to the doctor who took the needle out of my hand and mutters in Russian, "Do you want the mask this time?"

The doctor responds in the same tongue, "No. The Captain won't want to hit him if he sees his face."

The soldiers nod and run off again. They are gone for longer than before, and they return with a variety of weapons. They present two handguns to me, and I automatically take them, attaching them to the utility belt around my waist. I take knives, a grappling hook and a grenade from them before grasping the assault rifle, barely feeling it.

"Let's go," a soldier orders, turning towards the door.

I follow close behind him, and two other soldiers come behind me. They lead me to a windowless, armored black van and slide open the back door. I go in and take a seat on the barren floor, placing the AR at in front of me. One of the soldiers comes in and slides the door closed behind him, lowering himself onto the bench built into the wall of the van. The sound of doors opening and closing reach me through the thick walls of the van, and then the van shudders as an engine roars to life.

As the van starts to move, I flex my left hand slightly, keeping it in full view of the soldier in the van. The feeling of flexing it is so dull, like it was barely even happening. I have to focus on it entirely to feel it at all.

Thoughts of my arm eventually fade, and I think of practically nothing at all as the van moves. There's nothing in my mind to think about except that I have to kill the three targets. After what feels like hours, the van slows to a stop. "This place is in chaos, but don't let anyone get in your way," the soldier with me says in Russian. "Kill the Captain."

The door slides open and reveals the two other soldiers standing on a tarmac. The one in the van with me gets out to stand by the others, and I get up after him, exiting with the assault rifle in hand.

"Stop!" a voice shouts in English. "Are you HYDRA?" the voice demands as a woman in full body armor and another rifle reveals herself. "Tell me who you are!"

She is not the Captain, but she is an obstacle that prevents me from reaching him.

I raise the rifle and fire off a quick shot that lands in her neck. She shouts as she falls, blood springing from the wound.

Hearing the shot, more and more soldiers appear, aiming towards us. Before they could shoot us, I fire on them. One after the other, they fall, and I fire until the bullets in the rifle run out. I didn't shoot them all. Several run up towards me, but duck their punches and return them with the frame of the rifle itself.

The three soldiers who brought me here must have run off during the shootout. I am on my own from here.

(1) I translated Bucky's trigger words from English to Russian, and these are the pronunciations-according to Google Translate. My apologies if anything is wrong. I don't speak even a word of Russian.

(2) This is a quote I found on Pinterest that someone used in an edit with Bucky. I have no idea what it's from, though.

Hope you all liked that and will come back soon for chapter two! I can't promise that it will be posted soon because I'm in college now, but I can promise that I will try. Fingers crossed!