Steven G. Rogers.
He mouthed the name and let it roll around in his head, but nothing caught.
Steven G. Rogers. You're my friend.
The Captain America exhibit was crowded, even for so early in the morning, but no one paid any attention to him as he circled the displays until he found the one he was looking for.
Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You're my friend.
He stared at the display, at the picture of James Buchanan Barnes posted there. He listened to the audio descriptions. '…Steven G. Rogers and Bucky Barnes, inseparable in the schoolyard and the battlefield…' That couldn't be him. The accompanying description spoke of a friend and soldier and man who chose to put other people's welfare before his own.
That wasn't him. He wasn't Bucky Barnes. He couldn't be. He wasn't a friend; Steven G. Rogers lying broken and bloody in some nearby hospital was proof enough of that. He was assigned missions; he never chose them. He was an assassin, not a soldier. He was a machine; he wasn't a man.
He turned away from the display, feeling a heaviness on his shoulders and in his chest that he was beginning to realize had no true physical cause. Even if he had ever been Bucky Barnes - he wasn't him now. He didn't remember that man. He couldn't remember how to be that man.
As he turned, he saw the video display. Film footage of Bucky Barnes. Every scene James Buchanan Barnes was in, Steven G. Rogers was in as well, as though they were connected, as though they were a team.
Inseparable on schoolyard and battlefield…
That made sense, he thought. That was why Rogers wanted him back now - he wanted the soldier, he wanted the team, he wanted -
And then the scene came up of them laughing. Bucky was laughing hard, harder than Steve, but they were both laughing at something. They were together. They were happy. They were laughing.
A bright memory crawled out of a dark abyss. Two boys walking down a street, half eaten apples in their hands, thin bundles of books slung over their shoulders.
Hey, Steve - who's bigger? Mrs. Bigger or Mrs. Bigger's baby? It's Mrs. Bigger's baby. He's just a Little Bigger…
And then they laughed.
Best friends since childhood…
He remembered laughing.
He watched that video replay five times, trying to let his mind open up to other memories ~ friends, laughing, inseparable ~ but the gut reaction of expecting to be punished for remembering drove the elements of memories back into the abyss.
Finally, he turned away from the exhibit and towards the front door of the museum. He passed a water fountain and he stopped and stared at that a moment. It occurred to him that he hadn't eaten anything or had anything to drink in at least a day. He never thought about it before. He'd never had to think about it before - he ate and drank when it was given to him. When it wasn't, he didn't.
But now - no extraction team, no extraction, so no food or water that he didn't provide for himself.
After briefly considering the logistics of it, he approached the water fountain. He pressed the lever with his right hand and took a drink of water. A very long drink of water. It tasted good and wet and made him realize that he hadn't realized how thirsty he was.
He finished his long drink, wiped his mouth and gave one last look to the Captain America display ~ you're my friend, you've known me your whole life ~ then walked back outside.
He felt like he was leaving a giant piece of himself behind, stretched like a rubber band pulled too far. He scanned the streets and sidewalks and rooftops, instinctively expecting an extraction team to be near and waiting for him. He shook his head to clear that thought. They weren't there. They weren't coming. He wouldn't go with them even if they were.
Wanting to stay in the vicinity of the museum and the exhibit, he searched the neighborhood for potential locations he could conceal himself. Alone in the quiet, maybe his memories would emerge. Maybe he could remember being a friend. Being a person. Being a man.
Close to the Metro station, he turned down an alley and found a small brick building, with a big sign across the facade, "KEEP OUT - TO BE DEMOLISHED." That would do.
A collapsible gate was pulled across the front of the building and padlocked in place. He reached out with his robotic hand and ripped the lock off and pushed the gate aside enough to slip behind it.
It was then that he saw two young boys, stopped dead in the alleyway, staring at him. Both their mouths hung open and the smaller of the two raised a hand to point at him, but the other one, the taller one, grabbed his shoulder and they both ran away.
When they were gone, he pushed his way past the gate and boarded door and into the dark, damp interior.
To be continued
(next chapter, he and Steve find each other - with help)