Disclaimer: I do not own or claim Captain America. I do own my OC, Beni Arlet
Notes: You should have seen me fangirling and chuckling when I wrote the outline and told Clockwork's Apprentice. You'll find out later...I have a prank chapter...
Enjoy!
~SoN~
War Stories
Prologue
Third Person:
Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.
Some know him as 'The Asset.' Others as the Winter Soldier. And very few know him as Bucky.
But he doesn't know what he should go by. Not yet, anyways. For years he's just been a weapon and nothing more. And asset. Never a human being. He may have a metal arm, but that shouldn't mean he's a full machine.
He hunched down, pulling his ball cap lower as he looked up at the once familiar face. He was at the Smithsonian. The Captain America exhibit if you want to get specific.
It frustrated him. He came here for answers, and he got a few. But they weren't the answers to the certain questions he was asking the most. He wanted to know what he did, what time he came from, how he ended up with the Russians, then HYDRA, and he wanted to know why Captain America thought they were friends. Over the past couple of days there had been an itching in the back of his brain. Like his brain was healing itself after all of the abuse it had gone through. The bigger the itch, the more of a single memory he gained.
When he slept he got nightmares. The one he got the most is the one where he's staring at Steve Rogers, reaching out to him. It's cold and windy and suddenly he just...
Falls.
Once Steve goes out of his line of sight he always wakes up. And it is always in a cold pile of his own sweat. And after each time, he keeps moving. He thought it a little ironic. He remembered he used to love sleep, and it came as naturally as breathing. But now?
Well, now it's a foreign necessity. Just like eating and using the bathroom. And it always took him forever to go to sleep. He was always just lying there in a well hidden spot, eyes and ears more awake than a normal persons. And the fact that it was summer didn't help. He had gotten so used to the cold that it's difficult to fall asleep without it.
Former Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes looked away from Steve's picture. He zipped up his hoodie a little more to hide the point where his arm met his neck. If he didn't hide it properly then people would automatically know who he was. He didn't want or need that kind of attention.
So he left.
He made a decision. He was going to leave the museum. He was going to forget about all of his bad memories. He has already left HYDRA, for the most part. Then all he had to do was breath in the dry, city air and smell freedom.
He almost found that amusing. Freedom isn't actually free. Many people pay for freedom, whether it be over seas or in your own home. Or his case, perhaps, but that was highly unlikely to happen again, whether it be him or someone else. He would try and stop it. His targets were branded into his brain. The names and faces of the people who were linked in the Winter Soldier Project one way or another was going down. Well, the ones he remembered anyways. He would go after every single one of them. If they were old, had kids, diseased, he didn't care. Not when it came to HYDRA, because HYDRA took everything away from him, and the only thing they've given in return is a metal arm with the communism star on it.
His hands turned to fists in his pockets as a big ball of anger grew in the pit of his stomach. That would probably be at least half the reason it was growling at him right now. When was he last time he ate? Or slept properly? Or just slept for that matter? He sure as hell didn't know. Two days at least. But he has a gut feeling that he's gone further with less.
He was Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th, best friend of Steve Rogers, former Winter Soldier, and very confused. But he's also the man that's gonna go on one hell of a ride.