Okay, so I just saw "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" today. I came home, went straight to the computer and started writing. What can I say? Complex characters are like catnip for me, I can't help it. I saw that character in dear Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier (played by Sebastian Stan, who did amazing by the way). I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this, so we'll just have to see.

I don't own Captain America: The Winter Soldier or it's characters. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.

"Cause I'm with you till the end of the line," was his reply, as he stared through his daze at the man above him. With those words, the Soldier stops, his arm freezing up in the air. There was a split second where he could hear another voice echoing those words, in a time long ago.

Suddenly the falling ship cracked, and the man's shirt he was gripping slipped out of his fingers. Captain America was falling, falling, falling down into the water. The Soldier paused, his arm slowly coming down to grip at the broken metal beneath him. The water was cloudy, and there was no sign of the Captain coming back up for air.

That was it. Mission accomplished. The Soldier takes a deep breath, then winces. The metal bar landing on him had done a number on his ribs. Why didn't he feel satisfied? His mission was over, Captain America now drowning in the water below was a testament to that. There was some feeling tugging in his chest, a small voice in his head whispering at him. He saved you. He took your punches.

"You know me!" a cry goes through his mind, echoing what Captain America had said to him from before. He didn't know the man. All he knew was his missions, the people he was to kill. Then why does he feel so familiar?

The Soldier pauses one final time before the tugging pushes him off the falling ship and into the water. His instincts were screaming at him to swim up for air and to get far, far away. His ribs are stretching uncomfortably as he swims down further into the water. Before he even realizes it, his metal arm reaches out forward and grabs something.

Pushing back up to the surface with everything he has, the Soldier bursts into the fresh air, Captain America in tow. He pulls the man closer as he pushes his way through the crashing waves towards the beach. The ship falls into the water behind them, sending water scattering over the pair.

As they got closer to the beach, his metal limb started twitching. It was telling him to let go of the body next to him, to finish off the mission. To get it all over with so he could disappear.

The Soldier grunts as he kicks his legs powerfully, propelling them closer to the shore. Pain was radiating through his body but he pushes it away. He was used to pain. There was a dull throbbing in his skull that couldn't be ignored though, and uncalled thoughts swirled up.

"Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone on Coney Island?"

"Yeah, and I threw up?"

"This isn't payback is it?"

"It's me. It's Steve."

"Steve?"

"Come on."

"Steve."

"I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were smaller."

The Soldier shakes his head, his shaggy hair sending water flying. Those weren't his memories. That was someone else. Not him. Not him.

"Bucky."

His kicks in the water grow more frantic, as if they could take him away from all the mashing emotions and thoughts in his head. When he can finally feel sand under his feet, he stands up. Water drips from his clothes, weighing him down. His metal arm still has a firm grip on Captain America, pulling him through the water. He trudges up the shore, dragging the dead weight behind him. He kept trying to shove all his thoughts away that were telling him how wrong this was.

You're a killer. You're not supposed to be saving people. You're a weapon for people to order around. You murder.

Waves of pain were now sending shivers through the Soldier's body. His brain was in agony. He felt like he shouldn't be able to think this much.

"But I know him." Screams. Agony. More screams.

He shouldn't be remembering these things. He feels like he was a completely different person, watching the man in the chair screaming. Screaming. Always screaming. Too many questions, and more screaming.

STOP IT! He is shaking, pulling himself and Captain America farther out of the water.

He pulls the man up out of the water onto the wet sand. The Soldier stares hard at the still man below him, and he almost kneels down next to him to check his pulse. But he's a killer, and he shouldn't care. He shouldn't be saving people.

Captain America's mouth opens a bit, expelling some water. The Soldier turns then and walks away.

He needed to get far away from this man who was bringing him so much pain. He was bringing back memories that shouldn't be there.

He trudges through some bushes, heading towards the road. Soon the smoke from the destroyed ship clears from the air, and his sharp eyes can detect buildings not too far away.

Hydra was not destroyed, he knew that much. Those thoughts were pounded into his head. Those one's he knew were true.

You cut off one head…

The Soldier shakes his head again, trying desperately to quiet all the raging thoughts in his mind.

There was something inside of him telling him not to go back to Hydra. Telling him that no matter how much he hurt right now, if Hydra found him, he would hurt worse. But he also couldn't let the man whose life he just saved find him either. He wasn't Bucky. He wasn't who Captain America wanted him to be.

His strides are getting smaller as his fatigue catches up with him. His ribs were screaming with pain, and his head was getting worse by the second. With each flash of memories, and echo of voices, his brain pounded.

Even with his extensive training and power, he knew that he couldn't stay on his feet much longer. Before, when his missions were a little harder to pull off, he would go back to Hydra and the doctor would fix him up. Now that wasn't an option.

Raised voices reach his ears, and he quickly crouches down in the high grasses.

"Does anyone have eyes on Captain America?" someone says, the noise of their shoes on the ground coming closer.

"Not yet," a crackly voice replies.

"Romanoff, what about the Winter Soldier?" another voice says. The Soldier tenses in the bushes, listening intently to the words.

"We don't know what happened to him. If that smoking ship in the distance is any sign, he might be dead," a woman says. The name Romanoff tickles in his mind, bringing forth an image of a redhead, running away from him. His other mission. The woman he was to kill before. His hand twitches to the knife tucked away in his belt. He draws it out, and moves to jump out of his hiding place, but again something stops him. He was in no condition to fight. Another searing thought making its way through his brain testifies to that.

"You're my friend."

"You're my mission!"

The sound of the steps slowly grows fainter, and the Soldier drops his knife into the dirt and straightens up. He walks quicker, away from the wreckage. As soon as S.H.I.E.L.D. found Captain America, they would come looking for him.

But he couldn't let that happen. He didn't want to found. He wanted to leave it all behind. He wanted to forget all of it.

He clutches his ribs with his good arm and breaks into a jog. He was going to get far away, to some place where no one could find him. Especially the man who kept insisting he was Bucky.

No. He wasn't that man.