[Lane Boy]
"Bucky, no!"
His eyes blinked open slowly. Bright lights assaulted him, making it painful to fully focus on his surroundings. He squeezed his eyes shut again, grimacing.
Bucky didn't know where he was or what was going on.
What he did know, however, was that he was still alive, which was a surprise for him. In those fleeting moments right before he hit the side of the mountain he knew that he was a dead man. No one could survive a fall like that.
But, apparently he could.
He shifted slightly on the hard cot that he was lying on. Bucky strained his memory as he tried to remember what had happened after he had hit the mountain. Nothing. He was met with an annoyingly blank set of memories.
His left arm twitched slightly at his side, pulling him from his thoughts. Just like that, Bucky suddenly remembered it all. He remembered Steve calling his name, falling, being dragged through the snow, his left arm bloody and half missing.
A burning in his arm, which had been a dull throb when he first woke up, suddenly spiked and Bucky's eyes flew open again.
A small, bald man, with round glasses stared down at him filling his vision, a pinched smile on his face. "Sargent Barnes."
Bucky glared at the man without speaking. He would have held his gaze, but the burning in his arm demanded to be felt, and he tore his eyes away from the small man to his arm. Silver metal met his gaze, and Bucky felt his chest tighten with both pain and fear. His entire left arm was encased in metal. It looked wrong lying against the white sheet that covered his body. Hell, it didn't just look wrong, it felt wrong. Because that was the thing, Bucky could feelit. He felt the metal like it was part of his body, because now it was.
He swung his gaze back around to meet the eyes of the bald doctor. Bucky struggled to hide the emotions that he was sure were plain to see on his face.
"It's a shock, I'm sure." The man said to Bucky in what was supposed to be a sympathetic voice. "Don't worry, the pain should fade with time." He gave Bucky a thin smile, which did nothing to alleviate Bucky's fears.
A man in a white coat hovered at Bucky's side, a clipboard clutched in his hands. He saw that Bucky was awake and leaned over him, taking small notes.
Mistake, Bucky thought grimly. His metal arm obeyed his command and snatched the unfortunate man's neck in a tight grip.
The man choked and struggled in Bucky's immovable grasp. It wasn't until someone stabbed Bucky with a needle that immediately started to put him to sleep did he let go.
Bucky's eyes hazily moved back to the bald man, who smiled again and said. "You are to be the new face of Hydra."
Bucky's vision darkened, but not before he heard: "Put him on ice."
When he woke again, he couldn't remember anything. Not his name, not where he was, not what he was. Nothing.
He was surrounded by men in white coats and sometimes grim looking men with guns. He felt weightless as they did their tests on him, talking among themselves in excited whispers.
He didn't know what his purpose was, though he felt like he should be doing something. He was useless if he didn't have a purpose, this much he knew.
"Hey, eyes on me." Fingers snapped in front of his face, forcing him to focus on the suited man, who crouched before him. "Listen up, soldier, I'm sure you're feeling a little lost right now, but I need you to relax. We're going to show you the way. We're going to give you a purpose." He gave him a smile that seemed forced.
He nodded slowly because he knew that's what the suited man expected of him. He didn't know what was coming next, but at least now he had a reason and a purpose. That had to count for something.
The man had called him soldier. Perhaps that was his name and occupation now. Soldiers followed orders; they had purpose. They created order and sometimes chaos. He wondered which he would be ordered to do; chaos or order.
A/N: Thank you cairistiona7 for reviewing! I appreciate it, and my sister does too.