CHAPTER 2
A Call To Action
After hours of aimlessly traversing the streets of the enormous city, Bucky leaned up against a stop sign to rest before figuring out what he was going to do next.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back onto the pole.
Scenarios ran in his mind.
What if someone came up from behind and attacked, if I turned fast enough I could get enough momentum to break their jaw.
What if a car swerves off the road, could I propel myself off of this sign with enough force to clear the car?
No, stop it. He scolded himself internally. You're thinking like a soldier, you're thinking like, that monster.
Bucky opened his eyes and surveyed the area without moving his head. Confident that nobody was around, Bucky pulled off his gloves. He glanced at the metal hand, and slowly moved each finger. He never really took a long look at his hand before.
Then it happened, the event that changed everything forever.
It all happened so quickly, the girl called out for help. Bucky looked for the person she was calling to but nobody else was around. When he didn't respond to her she ran towards him.
Desperate to reach Bucky, the girl bolted out into the street, but despite the stop sign, a driver, who was obviously drunk off his ass, sped down the road at top speed.
The screech of tires compelled Bucky to turn around. The girl would never make it across the road before the car reached her. Something inside of him clicked, and Bucky sprang into action.
He pounced onto the girl and, covering her head with his metal arm, they rolled out of the car's path.
Bucky, still lying on the side of the road, let go of the girl.
She looked at him with large grey eyes.
"Bucky? Bucky Barnes?" Her eyes brightened as she spoke and Bucky winced at her words. The girl grabbed his metal hand and held it in her own. Desperate, Bucky pulled his hand away and looked around wildly for his gloves, they were gone.
She moved closer and took his hand again, his human hand this time.
Bucky let her hold his hand as he desperately played more scenarios in his head.
The two sat on their knees at the side of the road for what seemed like an eternity, the girl looking at Bucky and Bucky looking at their hands.
After awhile she yanked her hand back, and Bucky jerked into reality. He looked at his hand and noticed blood streaming out of his sleeve.
He grabbed his arm with more force than he meant to and flinched at the force he had applied to his wound. A million thoughts now swirled around in his head.
I can't take off my jacket.
What if she tells someone about me? How will I take care of my arm, I can't let it become infected.
Among the millions of thoughts he was wrestling with there was one that kept coming back more often than the others: Did she say my name?
"You're hurt Bucky." The girl said to him.
Bucky looked up and spoke out loud for the first time since he bought his train tickets in Washington D.C. almost two weeks ago. "What?"
"You're hurt, there's blood on your hand and its dripping down from your arm." The young girl said, this time with an urgency that was almost commanding.
Her tone shocked Bucky, all of his memories, that Hydra had let him keep, involved taking orders from someone.
He had been bossed around by Alexander Pierce, Zola, and various doctors and scientists, but never had he received orders from a child.
She stood up on skinny legs, her green cargo shorts rustling as she stood. Her large white t-shirt was stained with blood.
The girl pulled Bucky up with her as she stood and now the two of them were standing and staring at each other.
One looked up with disbelief in her eyes, the other stared down, doing his best to keep all emotion out of his expression.
Grabbing Bucky's cold metal hand, the girl pulled him along behind her as she navigated through alleys and intersections. Bucky's body followed the girl but his mind was somewhere else.
His mind had drifted to the last time someone had called him that name.
"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes."
That one small sentence had been battering Bucky's sub conscience non-stop. There wasn't a moment of the day when those words weren't echoing in his head.
After fifteen minutes of walking, they reached a dingy brick building. The girl opened the door and pulled Bucky inside.
Bucky looked around, an apartment building. I remember one of these, but from where? From when?
"My name is Elizabeth by the way, you can call me Lizzie."
Bucky just stared at the girl.
"Or if you prefer you can just not call me anything." She added, staring at him quizzically. Bucky thought for a moment then spoke "Sorry, I'm..." Bucky paused and struggled to find the words he wanted, "I mean, if you want, you can call me-"
She cut him off, "It's okay Bucky."
Lizzie took his hand again "You don't have to introduce yourself to me, I know all about you."
This sentence shocked Bucky and sent him into a frenzy. He grabbed Lizzie's shoulders and pulled her towards him
"Please," he pleaded desperately "what do you know about me?"
Lizzie shied away, and Bucky released her.
"I'm- I'm sorry." He stuttered.
"You apologize too much Bucky." Lizzie said as she motioned for him to follow her.
They walked up four flights of decaying steps until they reach a door slathered with faded red paint.
The smell of alcohol wafted from under the door and filled Bucky's nose.
"Welcome to my home." Lizzie said pulling the door open.
