"No..Tell me you're lying," Steve pleaded, gazing around the room at the people standing around him. "He's dead. I watched him fall. No one could have-"
Tony cut in. "Sorry, Cap. But apparently your old war buddy is a deadly, murderous assassin. I looked through the files."
Steve felt like he had just been impaled. He made eye-contact with those standing in the room, which included Bruce, Natasha, Sam, and Rhodey.
Then, overwhelming guilt struck him like a train.
"God..Hydra got a hold of him..They-When he was captured..they must have did something to him that helped him survive the fall.." Steve muttered in realization. "I should have looked for him..- Should have-" Sam placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey man, it wasn't your fault. It's Hydra's. Who knows what hell he went through."
Steve swallowed and nodded.
December 10th, 1934
Steve was lying on the couch in his apartment, clutching the large blanket over his thin frame. His mother walked in to check on him, gently placing her hand against his burning forehead. He leaned into the touch.
He's been sick plenty of times, but he still couldn't get passed the weird feeling of being both hot and cold at the same time. His face felt like it was about to melt off while his body felt like he was just shoved into a freezer. His aching lungs along with having asthma didn't help. At all.
"You're still burning up, poor thing.." Sarah wiped a strand of hair from Steve's face. "I have to head up to the hospital, I'll send James over, okay?"
As much as Steve hated the idea of being babysat, he didn't mind Bucky coming over. It's been a few days since he's seen him anyway, so he just nodded.
His mother gave him a soft smile and placed a soft kiss on his forehead before she headed out the door. Steve watched as the door closed with a quiet click.
The next thing he knew he was asleep.
Steve seemed to be more keen to nightmares when he was ill. He never understood why, but they had sent him into asthma attacks more times than he could count.
He heard someone's voice, followed by a soothing hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. Though, he couldn't make out the words being said.
When he finally managed to squint open his eyes, he felt even worse than before. He was sweating and it felt like he was on fire. But, he did manage to make out Bucky standing over him, holding an ice-pack to his head.
"Buck..?" Steve rasped, squinting even more now, then blinking a few times.
"I'm here, pal."
Steve allowed himself to take a shaky breath and then lay flat again.
"You ain't looking too good, Steve," Bucky pointed out, removing the ice-pack for a few seconds to place the back of his hand against Steve's forehead.
He gave out a wheezy-chuckle. "I think that's pretty obvious..'m sick.."
Bucky nodded. "Mhm. I think that's pretty obvious too." He smiled when he saw his friend roll his eyes. At least he wasn't completely out of it like he usually was.
He then pat Steve's thin arm. "Get some rest, punk. I'll be here when you come 'round."
Steve wanted to protest, but his body was too tired to let out as much as an irritated groan. He fell asleep pretty easily.
October 15th, 1936
Steve dragged himself up the stairs toward his apartment. His eyes were bloodshot and he just wanted to go to sleep and then time travel back a few years.
He had gotten the call that his mum had passed just a few hours ago. It struck him hard. Of course, he did know that she was fighting tuberculosis, which was pretty bad and killing a lot of people, but he had thought she would get better..
Instead of trying to find the key to get into his apartment, he sat down against the wall, knees tucked against his chest. He lowered his head and started to cry, tears flowing down his cheeks.
He heard footsteps approaching him, then a hand on his shoulder. Hesitantly, he lifted his head, spotting Bucky knelt down in front him.
"Hey, pal..You okay?"
Steve swallowed and nodded. "'m fine.."
That was a lie. And Bucky knew it.
"C'mere, Steve.." Bucky shifted so that he was sat beside his friend, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close.
Steve buried his head in his friend's chest and let it out, sobs wracking his thin frame. Bucky let his head fall on Steve's shoulder, rubbing comforting circles on his back.
Present Day
The Winter Soldier stepped onto the road, gun in hand. He stared around with an emotionless gaze, searching for his target. From what he knew, the man had blonde hair and was also known as Captain America. The face of his target had been described as well, in case he did not have his suit with him.
He could not fail this mission. Or else he would be punished again, and he could not allow that to happen.
The emotionless blue eyes narrowed as the Asset walked forward along the empty street. Suddenly, a man matching the description of his target appeared. He wore a red, white, and blue shield, which was strapped to his arm. But other than that, wore casual, civilian clothing.
The man; Captain America, stared at him with a bewildered expression on his face, studying him.
The Asset stood there, surprisingly patiently, ready to unsheathe his knife if need-be. His gun was tight in his grip as he slowly lifted it up to aim at the man, who suddenly spoke.
"Bucky..?"
The Asset did not know of such a name, confused on whether or not it was referring to him. The Asset did not have a name. He was mainly known as the Winter Soldier.
"Who the hell is Bucky?" He pulled the trigger, watching as Captain America pulled up his shield to block the incoming attack. Feeling like this would not be an easy target, he threw the gun to the ground and unsheathed his knife.
The two men charged at each other. The Asset's metal arm collided with his target's shield, sending the man skidding backward a few feet.
He threw a few punches with his metal arm, the knife located in his right. The man was quite strong, and his moves seemed similar to his own. A sudden, confusing feeling of pride welled up in him. Though, he had no idea where it had come from.
The Winter Soldier body-slammed his target into the ground, metal fist going in for a blow to the head. But the man rolled and swung his feet out, tripping the Asset and kicking him into a vehicle.
That only made him more enraged. He fought with more determination; more force. He fought to kill.
His target landed a punch on the side of his head and sent him skidding backward. The Asset caught his balance before he could fall. He noted his slight disorientation, but quickly got back into his fighting stance, charging at the man he was ordered to eliminate.
Eventually, he got the upper-hand. His fist connected with the target's head and sent him sprawling onto the ground, where he managed to repeatedly throw violent punches into his face.
The sound of an approaching vehicle distracted him for a few moments and he looked up.
Wait what? He was never distracted so easily. Something must have been messed up in his programming..
Hydra agents stepped out of the vehicle and approached him. Pierce followed closely behind.
"Stand down, Asset."
The Asset obeyed and got to his feet, looking down at the beaten man. He took in his features, which seemed..strangely...familiar.
The man had an ugly bruise under his left eye and a gash next to his right. His lips were also cut and a few drips of blood rolled down his head.
There was something...strange about him..It also felt like there were large gaps in his mind where something should be..
He listened to the conversation as other Hydra operatives surrounded his target, making room for Pierce.
"Ah, Rogers. How wonderful to see you again.."
The blond-haired man stared up at him. "What do you want, Pierce?" He spat, going into a small coughing fit a few moments later.
The Asset winced and felt something he hadn't felt in a while start to bubble up inside him.
His target- Rogers, was yanked up violently to his feet. Pierce stared at him and smiled, pulling a small gun from its holster.
"I was going to have your friend here eliminate you, but I decided I'd rather much love to do it myself."
The Asset suddenly began to notice the sudden harsh change of tone in his handler's voice when he spoke those two words. It confused him. He had no idea why he was even thinking of all of these things or paying attention to them in the first place.
The Asset doesn't think. He just does what he is told and no more. He obeys.
The sound of a gun, followed by a pained yell, yanked the Winter Soldier from his thoughts. He didn't fail to notice the gunshot wound deathly close to Rogers's chest. He was fully aware this time when the 2nd gunshot went off, this time striking Rogers' where the Asset knew a lung was located.
The Winter Soldier winced, again, and a short flicker of a memory suddenly flashed into his mind.
A small, skinny, blonde-haired man laid beaten and bloodied in a back alley. It was the same man he saw now, he realized. A larger brunette knelt down and helped him to his feet.
It was over quickly, and then something clicked in his mind and something told him that he needed to protect this man, and that he couldn't be killed.
The Asset barely registered his own movements as he planted himself firmly, in front of Rogers. His flesh hand reached down to unsheathe a knife.
He turned, slightly, when Rogers fell to the ground, taking in desperate and wheezing breaths of air. The air he could get in anyway.
"Step aside, Asset," Pierce glared daggers at him, gun still raised.
The Asset- No..he had a name..Bucky? He didn't know who he was anymore..but he wasn't the Asset. So he supposed he'd go by Bucky for right now.
He stood firm, not responding to Pierce's command.
"Asset." Pierce said again. "Step aside. Now."
Before Bucky could process what was going on, he whipped out a knife and stabbed a nearby Hydra operative. He quickly went through the rest, knocking them down with his metal arm before he held his own gun to Pierce's head.
The man foolishly attempted to aim the gun around him, firing once again at the vulnerable Rogers, but Bucky's metal arm flew out to the side and blocked it.
Without thinking, Bucky dropped the gun from Pierce's head and slammed his metal fist into his face, knocking him unconscious.
He slowly turned around and walked over to where Rogers lay, badly wounded. The man was barely conscious, he realized, his glassy eyes barely following his movements.
He allowed himself, cautiously, to lower himself to his knees. He placed two of his flesh fingers against the man's neck, feeling a sluggish, but still there pulse. He felt largely relieved at this, which again, made him confused, but he decided to go with his instincts and what his mind was telling him.
They both made eye-contact. Rogers stared up at him, blinking sluggishly and about to lose consciousness.
"Buck-" the man swallowed painfully, voice shaking. "Bucky.."
Rogers's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he went unconscious.
An instant sense of panic rushed through The As- No. Bucky.
He found himself checking once again for a pulse, then lowering his head to Rogers's chest, listening to the erratic, but still there, sound of his heartbeat.
He raised his head with a sigh, which Rogers hopefully was unable to hear due to his unconscious state. The man needed medical attention soon.
Carefully, he lifted the unconscious man up into his arms. A sudden wave of protectiveness washed over him and he held the man tighter in his arms. He was still confused on what his life currently was right now, and who he was.
He figured a medical facility wouldn't be particularly safe, being worried that Hydra would be out looking for both of them. But if he didn't, Steve would die.
The name slipped into his thoughts as if it belonged there. He didn't question it, knowing that the name belonged to the man he was currently carrying. Steve. Steve Rogers.
The man was familiar. But all of his memories were scattered and it felt like hell to try to remember.
An idea suddenly popped into his mind. He changed directions and started walking toward a medical facility.
Part 2 coming soon.
