Hi guys! I want to apologize, I had accidentally uploaded the second chapter twice instead of the first and second. It should've updated by now, but if it hasn't and the first two chapters are almost exactly the same, that why. Thank you so much to MysteryintheShadows for pointing that out! You're the best! :) Also, thank you so much to Phyoaros for being my wonderful beta for this fic!

Warnings for minor character death/past death, brief violence, and a bit of swearing.

Disclaimer: characters aren't mine- they're owned by Marvel. Chapter title is from "Freak on a Leash" by Korn.

Enjoy!

Chapter Three: All This Pain (You Wanna See the Light)

The Soldier found itself perched on the fire escape, peering through the scope of a rifle. It was watching a man sitting down to dinner with his wife and four young children. He was discussing something with his wife, and by the smiles on both of their faces, it was something good. One of the kids said something and all of them laughed. They were all having such a nice dinner. Not for much longer, it thought, and felt a pull at its gut at the sentiment. It fiddled with the trigger for a second before taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Everything was in position.

Calmly and with an exactness achieved through years of training,The Soldier pulled the trigger six times. Six targets. Six bullets. Six deaths. The window shattered completely, but no alarms went off. It was too easy. It watched as each body dropped, making sure there were no survivors. As it glanced over at the father, the man's face morphed until it found itself watching a dying Steve instead.

"Bucky," Steve called weakly, and The Soldier could just hear him through the demolished window. "Why'd you do that? Why did you kill me? I thought we were friends."

"No," it whispered, staring down in horror. "No no nonononono-"

Suddenly, he was falling, falling in slow motion through the biting wind and flurries of snow. He was screaming, calling out. He could see Steve above him, face full of guilt and heartbreak, and three words forming on his lips, and all Bucky could feel was regret, regret that in his last moments he still couldn't bring himself to say those three simple words and-

Jamie jerked upright, panting and flailing and screaming for Steve. His heart was beating so quickly he feared it would explode and his skin was damp with sweat. It took him a moment to reorient himself. He wasn't falling; he was in the bed at the motel room he'd rented just a few hour ago. He forced himself to take a deep breath, but his lungs were refusing to expand. His heart rate increased even more as he struggled to draw in oxygen, gripping the bed frame as hard as he could. He had finally regained his breath when the wood he was gripping snapped loudly like a gunshot and sent him into another panic attack.

When he was finally calm and composed, Jamie took a shuddering breath and curled into himself. Every time he had tried to sleep since he escaped Hydra, he had been bombarded with nightmares. He almost wished to be taken back purely for the silence and dreamlessness of cryo sleep. He could still see the dead eyes of the children and the look of utter betrayal on Steve's face as his life left him, Steve's expression as Bucky fell and his own realization that he'd never see him again. He shut his eyes but that only enhanced the image, and he found himself staring at Steve's mouth, which was trying to tell him something, but it was blurry and as he tried to concentrate, it drifted further and further away. His shoulders shook as he let out a sob, and then another. The floodgates opened and he no longer could stop the tears as they streamed down his face. What kind of person would kill innocent children? What kind of person would murder hundreds of people? Would try to kill his best friend as well? What kind of person did that? The bad kind, his thoughts whispered. The wicked kind. Monsters.

Jamie cried until no more tears would fall, ignoring the voices in his mind ordering him to get a hold of yourself, Soldier, just pull the fuckin' trigger, unless you want to explain to Him how you failed your mission, you want to see what real pain is? Come over here and I'll show you, you sonuvabitch- The harsh words were cut off by a knocking at his door. He jumped and his hand immediately shot out and wrapped itself around the knife he'd left on the bedside table. Jamie held it out in front of him as he crept towards the door, flinching when there was another knock. He pressed himself against the door and peered through the peephole, and was greeted by the sight of a young man standing anxiously on the other side. He was in his pajamas, which didn't have pockets, so it was easier to check for signs of concealed weapons. The man didn't look like HYDRA either, so Jamie tentatively opened the door, holding the knife behind his back.

"Oh, good," the young man breathed a sigh of relief as soon as his eyes landed on Jamie. "I'm sorry, I had heard screaming and at first I thought it was- other things-" he blushed and Jamie frowned, trying to discern what he had been implying. "But then there was something that sounded a lot like a gunshot and I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He laughed uncomfortably. "Sorry for bothering you." He glanced down and Jamie watched his eyes lock on his Other Arm instead, jaw dropping at the glint of metal.

"Everything's fine," he replied tersely. "Thanks," he added as an afterthought before shutting the door. He returned to the bed and closed his eyes, but he was too on edge to sleep after the possible threat. The only way for him to sleep was when he was bone-tired, but even then he was usually woken by graphic memories in the form of nightmares. His body wasn't used to sleeping- there had been unconsciousness caused by Wipes and Calibration, and he had spent thousands of days in Cryo, but that was it. Sleep had never been a choice because it was never an option. Sleep was foreign and odd and left him disoriented and vulnerable to attack. Still, he had grown to understand how sleep helps him stay alert during the day, and makes his jumbled, fried brain a little clearer, just like food and water.

Jamie finally gave up on more sleep and packed his few belongings into the many pockets of his worn, tattered army jacket. He had stolen it from Salvation Army, and had pushed down the guilt with the reminder that it was meant for homeless people, and he was officially without a home. He left his second-to-last wad of cash on the desk near the door. Then he snuck out into the night and hotwired an old gray truck parked a few blocks down from the motel. There was some sort of built-in computer system, but he couldn't figure out how to work it, so he ignored it as he drove out of the small town and onto the highway just as the sun started to rise. He drove for a few hours more before getting back off the highway and searching for an ATM. Jamie finally found one and had just broken in when he heard a man shout behind him.

"Drop the money and put your hands where I can see 'em!" he ordered, and Jamie swore softly in Russian. The police. This wasn't good. When all the SHIELD and HYDRA files went viral, his did too. They would look into him and, when they found nothing, they would search further and find out just who he was. HYDRA would be on the lookout for any signs of him, and when They found out that the police station was holding him, They would come to take him back. He couldn't go back. He couldn't let himself be captured. Jamie refused to be taken prisoner without a fight. He could feel The Weapon rear its head, but Jamie pushed it down. That wasn't what he needed right now. The Weapon wouldn't hesitate to kill both of them (don't leave witnesses ino survivors no survivors kill every last one of them/i) but if Jamie killed two cops, he would become more of a priority than a simple car thief and ATM robber.

Jamie straightened, his back going rigid and muscles tightening. His jaw locked and his brain sharpened as adrenaline kicked in. With the agility and precision of a bird descending upon its prey, he leapt towards the first officer and disarmed him within seconds, using the officer's shock to his advantage. He knocked the man out with his own gun and eased him to the ground just as he heard the second officer radio in for backup. He avoided every shot she fired at him, and when he finally reached her, he deflected every one of her attacks. She was skilled in hand-to-hand, but he had decades of practice, so he quickly disarmed her and knocked her out as well, catching her as she fell and laying herdown gently. He knew that simply knocking them out instead of killing them would leave behind two eyewitnesses, but he didn't want to kill them. They were just doing their job.

Jamie cursed again, this time in French. Now, not only was he a fugitive from various government intelligence agencies, top secret organizations, and a fuckton of countries, but the police would be chasing him too. And if HYDRA caught wind of the Winter Soldier taking out two cops in De Moines, they would know not only that he was still in the states, but an approximate radius of where he was. If they tracked him down… Jamie shivered at the thought. He could never do that again. Not ever.

With his mind made up, Jamie walked for a few more blocks, abandoning the truck in exchange for an old mini van with no sign of a GPS tracking system that could alert the cops again. With a mind clearer than it had been all week, Jamie drove off, and the city of De Moines never saw him again.

I'm pretty sure that counts as "things happening". Poor Bucky, I just keep putting him through the wringer. Thanks so much for reading, and have a fantastic day! Feedback is much appreciated, and it makes my day! :D