A sudden heart rush. The man jerked and gasped for air, just to taste the stench of himself and something familiar, too familar to skip. He moved awkwardly, getting used to all the hurts he has developed. He touched his own face, and groaned quietly. Blood, his own blood.
He closed his eyes for two seconds, just to maintain a so-so inner peace. It was just a nosebleed. They warned him about some side effects. One of THEM told him in a secret... Long time ago...
Bucky blinked, trying to assess where the hell he was. He started to be affraid of his own mind, that the brainwashing and all these... circumstances, maybe they just drove him staright into a mad house and he was being stripped to a stretcher. Just hallucinating all this. A stretcher could be so much more familair.
Voices and noises from not that far awoke his inner soldier. These were no hallucinations, not this time. Hallucinations were telling him things directly.
Bucky crouched when a police car stopped at an old, lonely house at the other side of the street. Until now he didin't realize how much exposed he was. Emotions totally took away all the best he kept in himself.
At least his unconcious mind was smart enough to withdraw from the direct light of the street lamp. He was lurking in the shadows, close to some forgotten bushes. How far did he walk since he left Smithsonian? Wasn't that just less than an hour? He couldn't remember. Bucky shook his head in a slight disapproval.
„What a fool." He would say to himself but his ears focused to hear a bits of important words.
An older, chubby woman came out to greet the policemen standing in the sharp lights of a car. They've been chatting for a moment now. Bucky narrowed his eyes when she pointed almost directly from where he was watching.
„That's the spot officer..." She said with gritty voice and raised it, obviously excited. „I swear, I've never heard anything like this! It was like a, like a - devil himself! Officer, you sure you don't want to call animal control?!"
The man hiding in the darkness sighed. So that what he has become now? An animal? He's been an animal, or maybe even less. All what was human was ripped off his soul countless times. He fought, god knows that he fought. Always to the last moment before passing out.
Bucky moved his head abruptly to the side and squeezed his eyelids almost shut. Not now, not now!
Zola, Rogers, some importantly - looking Russian man of a name he couldn't remember. Faces of people he never knew or wasn't supoposed to recognise anymore flew into his inner eye without any warning.
A needle in his organic arm. „It won't hurt." A soft voice lying.
The soldier muffled his own scream. Did they hear it? He was weak, he needed help... help? He winced at this odd word, he just remembered...
Barely seeing where he was going, Bucky rushed through the bushes on all fours. It should not be happening like this! He was wanted. He forgot about his... mission? He should keep a low profile!
If they won't find him, thay may find blood... The nosebleed felt pretty bad. Bucky shook his head to chase way a sudden dizziness.
„Who the hell is Bucky?" He mumbled, not aware how faint his own voice was.
Shrubs cut his face when he pushed with his bionic arm to break an obstacle on his way. He kept on tasting more blood. Mixed noises from outside of his head sounded bad. As if there were people behind him. Yes... the police men... Pulsating pressure inside of his ears became almost unbearable.
„You! Don't move!" A sharp voice hurt him. Just now he noticed a big stain of light and a shadow of messy hair on the grass in front of himself.
He froze, all his instincts switching on instantly.
He's just one – thought the soldier. One man with a weak gun. Bucky tasted blood coming down from his nose, and maybe gums.
He had to fight.