TACTICAL EVALUATION

Operations deck of Insight Helicarrier 3. No exterior walls, allowing unimpeded enemy access. Adequate maneuvering room. Support girders and buttresses providing sufficient cover. Computer core centrally located.

Threat estimate: Five targets incoming, four male, one female. Threat level maximum.

The Soldier watched like a bird of prey from his concealment on the helicarrier deck. He was patient, but he also knew he wouldn't have to wait much longer.

He spotted Iron Man first, carrying Banner. They flew overhead in a wide arc, circling, trying to view the Soldier's location from the air. It was a wasted exercise. The Soldier had been careful while selecting his cover. Iron Man landed on the deck and set Banner gently on his feet. "We know you're here." The digital voice was resonant and amplified. "What say we don't drag this out and pretend we did?"

He leaped from cover and grabbed Banner by the clavicle. His metal fingers sunk into the flesh, circling the fragile bone and feeling it snap in his hand. As the man screamed and his eyes began to glow green, the Soldier pitched him from the carrier and into the open air. Banner would transform into the raging Hulk on the way down and survive the impact, but it would take time for him to complete the fall and get back to the deck. Before then, the Soldier would eliminate as many enemies as possible and be gone.

Iron Man raised an arm and fired a repulsor. The Soldier had predicted this action and was already in motion before the force beam left the plate. The expanding blast cone passed harmlessly behind him. He lashed out with his prosthetic arm and ripped the power cell from the middle of the armored chestpiece. It sparked and began to overheat in the Soldier's grip. Iron Man fell to his knees, defensive flares popping. The Soldier dodged them easily and kicked hard, toppling Iron Man from the edge. This would buy him some extra time against Banner as well, if the monster chose an attempt to save the now helpless Iron Man instead of returning directly to the fight.

He heard the arrow before he saw it, and turned his metal arm to shield himself. The projectile pinged harmlessly from his shoulder and deflected into a girder where it began to fizzle and hiss. He caught the second arrow in his right hand, noting its trajectory and the probable location of the archer. Hawkeye had sacrificed cover for a can't-miss shot at the Soldier, and technically hadn't missed. He quickly calculated the archer's most likely escape path and speed, and fired four times, expertly leading his target. The bowman took three of the bullets in his skull as he ran, and the fourth as he fell.

Something hard plinked against the upper part of his prosthetic. Lances of electricity spiked up and down, overloading the circuits in his arm. The pain was nearly blinding, but he pushed it aside. It would take a few seconds for the back-up controls to boot, but the hydraulics were still functional and he didn't need precise aim. He hurled the super-hot arc reactor from Iron Man's suit into the origin point of the Widow's Sting. Black Widow's options were suddenly reduced to two…stay in place and be killed when the reactor's containment failed in a few seconds, or run. She elected to run, weaving and leaping. She was an elusive target, but the Soldier bided his time. When the reactor burned through its core shield and exploded, she altered her pace to compensate for the blast and took the tiniest misstep. He unloaded the rest of his clip into the central mass of her body.

"Bucky, don't do this."

He whirled and glared at Captain America. He had no idea who Bucky was, and he didn't care. His pistol was empty, so he threw it aside and drew his blade. They circled each other warily, until Captain America slowly raised his hands. "I'm not going to fight you, Bucky."

The Soldier kicked out his opponent's legs with a vicious sweep and drove his boot into the downed man's gut. He rotated his weapon through his fingers to change his grip as he dropped his armored knee into Captain America's chest.

"I won't fight you," Captain America wheezed. Blood frothed and bubbled from his mouth. "You can make up your own mind. You don't have to do this."

"Hail, HYDRA," the Soldier scoffed, and plunged the knife through the thin bone of the frontal sinus above the target's left eye.

He awoke in the middle of a drawn-out scream.

He had fallen asleep on the couch. He wrapped his arms around himself and drew his body in, shaking and drenched in sweat, making noises that he could never have hoped to control. Steve was immediately at his side. More people were in the room, but he had no idea who, and he was not brave enough to look up. "Shhh," Steve soothed, patting his back. "You were asleep. You had another nightmare. It's all right."

This was different. The dream hadn't paralyzed him as the others had. It wasn't all right. He could have…

He needed Steve more than he needed air at that moment, but he tore himself out of the encircling safety and comfort and ran like hell. He ran the forty-plus flights of stairs to Steve's floor and threw himself under the desk in his room.

JARVIS' voice was modulated with a note of concern. "Bucky? Captain Rogers is at the door…"

"Don't let him in!" He laced his fingers through his hair and bumped his back several times against the wall. "Tell him I'm all right."

"You are obviously not all right."

"Tell him!"

There was a pause as JARVIS complied. "I have informed Captain Rogers. To paraphrase his response, he says that if you are not out of there in ten minutes, he's coming in."

"Understood."

It took several minutes before he had regained enough control to breathe evenly and stop trembling, but he was still shaken and frightened by his dream. He had not plotted to kill anyone in several days. He assumed it was because he had become more familiar with his surroundings, and had already calculated most of the available methods of killing them. This was more real, more visceral than simply creating mental neutralization plans. The pressure of his fist driving the blade through the resistance of the bone had been…

He reached frantically for a plastic bag, feeling more sick than he had ever been.

Steve's muffled voice reached him through the dividing door. "Bucky? Bucky?"

"I'm all right," he mumbled. Then he crawled out from under the desk and sat on the floor near the bed, his back supported by the frame. "JARVIS?"

"I'm here, Bucky."

"Record message for Steve?"

"Indicate when you are ready to begin."

-Begin message-

-Begin recording-

"Steve… I'm…not all right. I'm not. I dreamed I killed all of you. I know it is not real, not likely, but might not always be a dream. I could fight you, any of you. Could be asleep and not know. It scares me, Steve. Don't want to, but if I can't control…? It's not all right.

I will keep trying to remember and have bad dreams, I promise. I will be good. But please…please, if I damage anyone here, kill me. Don't let me… Kill me. Please?

-End recording-

-End message-

After JARVIS had relayed the message to Steve, the door splintered and hurtled outward, torn off its track. Before he could react, Steve had gathered him into his arms and was holding him tight. "I can't promise you that. I won't make you that promise if I don't know if I could follow through."

If he could have wept, he would have then. You would do this for a dog, why not for me? Why not for me?

"I don't think you would do that to any of us. But if you're afraid of it, we'll deal with it. I'll make sure you don't hurt anyone. I'll stop you. I'll stay with you every minute, and I won't let it get that far."

Steve was crying again. He'd made Steve cry three times. He nodded into Steve's shoulder to accept the compromise, because hurting Steve was the nightmare made real.