A/N: So this is it; the first three chapters of the story (one full chapter on AO3). Now I have to go write the next chapter for AO3, Goodness only knows how long that one will be and how many chapters it will equate to here. I'm hoping it won't be as long as this one was.

Glossary:

Edgy = nervous

~You Walk This Earth Alone~

Bucky didn't know, nor did he really care, how long he stared at Isaac's dog tags. He didn't know how many times the mission ran through his head, or how many times he saw flashes of that last glimpse of Isaac's faces he got before leaving him behind, the other man's reassuring smile trying and failing to mask the uncertainty in his eyes. He didn't know how many times he allowed his guilt, anger, and loneliness to gnaw away at his insides, causing the gaping hole in his chest to widen.

What he did know, though, was that now that that hole was bigger, he had less of a chance of getting any sleep.

He kept trying to convince himself of what the others had been saying to him since it happened; it wasn't his fault. There was nothing he could have done to prevent it. But all that kept getting drowned by the other voice screaming at him, telling him that it was his fault, and that there was more he could, and should, have done. He should have tried harder to get the door open. He should have tried looking for another way to get in, and made sure that Isaac got out safely.

He should not have just left him there!

Great, now the hole was even bigger. He was definitely not going to be getting much sleep tonight. But he knew he had to give it a go. He would at least try to sleep, even if nothing came out of it.

As if forcibly pushed by a pair of invisible hands, Bucky flopped down on the cot, slipping the cap back under the pillow. He placed the dog tags on the pillow next to him, keeping his hands on them and imagining that it was one of those rare nights Isaac spent with him; imagining that he was feeling his warm, solid form next to him, rather than that lifeless, cold metal.

Bucky sighed, feeling that hole widen as he clamped his eyes shut.

Meanwhile, on the dirt road

The sun had long since set, leaving him completely smothered in blackness. While there was half of a moon in the sky with a sea of stars, it was not enough to provide any sufficient amount of light, especially since the trees moved in thick patches above him, sometimes blocking out the light completely, taking a tiny shard of hope with it each time.

He must have been wandering up this dirt road for hours. At least that's what it felt like. It could have only been a few minutes. He had no way of knowing. His sense of time had become nothing more than a blurred smear, stripped of any discernible shape or form, since the sun had set. The only thing he had the mental capacity to focus on was where his feet were going, and following the road. A long, sluggish yawn crawled out of his throat. He was tired beyond any reasonable thought. Any other man would have stopped and found someplace to sleep, but he didn't know where to even begin to look for one. Besides, he was too afraid to stop, just in case some enemy found him, so he kept walking. At this point he felt like a reanimated corpse trudging through a black abyss by sheer will alone. He kept waiting and expecting the ground under his feet to just dissolve, leaving him either falling, or floating through an endless void. That did not happen, of course. But what did happen was that the dirt road suddenly stopped and T'ed off into another dirt road.

For a moment, he just stared at the road, the gap in the trees letting in just enough light for him to see it. Great; another choice. He really didn't have the focus to really make a reasonable decision, so he went to the right. Why right? He wasn't really sure. It just felt...right. God, what a terrible joke! Nevertheless, he found himself laughing out loud to it, which lasted a full minute before stopping abruptly. Had he been thinking straight, he would have seen that as a huge sign of how badly he needed sleep.

How long did he wander up this new road? His best guess was a half an hour? Forty-five minutes? An hour? He could only guess, and most likely be wrong. Anyway, some undetermined amount of time later, that new dirt road ended as well, and T'ed off into yet another road. He paused and stared at this newer road, a little longer than he did with the last one. It didn't look like a dirt road. It was wider and appeared to be a lot more used than the dirt roads he had been on, and there was more of a gap in the trees above, letting in plenty of light. It looked more like a main road, yet not like the ones used in the cities.

His first thought was to go to the left and follow the road in that direction, since it would send him North again (he believed). His second thought was one laced in dread. This road had no doubt been far more used than the dirt roads had, so there was no telling who was currently using it. Enemy, ally, or civilian? Should he turn back? No. If he turned back, he could run into them. He wanted to get as far away from them as he could. So, he turned left, heading North (he thought) up the road. He made sure to constantly look over his shoulder, and to be prepared to jump out of view should he see headlights.

It was a truly awful feeling, isolating and constricting, to endlessly feel like your life is in danger; to have to look over your shoulder all the time. To not feel safe anymore. You would think that he'd be used to not feeling safe, being a soldier and all. But being a soldier meant he had some way to fight back against what made him not feel safe. It was nothing like now, where he felt like a mouse being chased by, not a cat, but a lion, leaving him outmatched and hopeless! It was nothing like being hunted!

How did he even get here? What happened to him that led to this? He tried to remember. He tried to remember the exact moment that God chose to abandon him.

4 Months Earlier

Isaac watched Bucky's retreating figure through the bars of the door. The farther away he got, the lower his stomach seemed to sink as the possibility of him not seeing him again pranced around in the back of his mind. He had tried, and no doubt failed, to look and sound reassuring to Bucky. To appear courageous, like he believed his own words about how everything would be all right. He knew he had failed, because he saw that Bucky was not convinced. Well, he was just going have to make sure that he did exactly as he promised, and meet Bucky outside as he said he would.

Without really knowing why, he patted the left side of his coat breast, where Oshiro's journal was safely located. "You better have some good information in there," he said. "I'm gonna be pretty upset if we ended up busting our tails here for nothing."

Returning to the map on the wall, Isaac once again looked over his escape route, doing so a total of three times before turning to leave, to make sure he had it well imprinted in his memory. He then tried contacting Gabe and Dernier, but they wouldn't answer. He stood there for a minute, trying two more times to reach them, but again, no success. He called Bucky, who also couldn't reach them. Bucky then called Steve, but they were unsuccessful as well. There was no other option left; he was just going to have to go down and meet them without letting them know first. He hoped that nothing would go wrong.

He tried his best to ignore the corpses of the HYDRA soldiers who had died in the explosion of the grenade, delicately stepping over them and even quickening his pace once he was clear of them, trying to put some distance between himself and them before he accidently let himself feel any kind of guilt.

The alarm was blaring wildly as he cautiously made his way down the hallway, keeping his footfalls soft and steady. So soft and steady, in fact, that his heart would drop an inch every time he heard some other noise beside the alarm, even if it was a noise he made himself. Over and over again, he repeated the route he needed to take, to make sure he didn't forget. The stairs to the engine rooms were some ways off, so it most likely would take him a little while to get there. He paused for a moment and turned on his radio to make one last attempt.

"Gabe, Frenchie, can you hear me?" he asked. He was instead greeted by a loud, sharp static whine. "Ah!" he exclaimed in pain as he instinctively ripped the radio receiver out of his ear. "Yeah, thanks for that, Stark," he muttered as he shoved the radio receiver into his coat pocket.

He immediately clapped his hand over his mouth when he heard multiple footsteps up ahead coming right for him. Looking around frantically for a moment, he quickly tucked himself under the arch of the nearest door, pressing his body as far into the shadows as he physically could. The footsteps got closer and soon a group of several HYDRA soldiers went jogging past him down the hall, not seeing him hidden in the shadows. One of them was giving orders to the others, partially in English and partially in, what he guessed was German. From what he could understand, they were investigating the explosion caused by the grenade. Figures.

As they went past, Isaac leaned forward to watch them until they were out of sight. However, he leaned a little too far, causing his hand, which was resting on the door frame for support, to slip slightly, drawing a small involuntary yelp for his mouth. The HYDRA soldier who was on the tail end of the group suddenly stopped and looked back, forcing Isaac back into the shadows, holding his breath. The soldier turned to his companions and shouted something in German, waving his hand. His companions kept going, so Isaac guessed that he told them to go on without him. The soldier in question then turned and started walking back to where Isaac was with his hand on his weapon, just in case. Isaac could see that he had one of the more…abnormal weapons; the ones that were powered by the Tesseract and glowed blue. He hated those kinds of weapons; they made him nervous, at the very least.

Isaac remained completely frozen as the soldier slowly made his way back down the hall, walking right past Isaac without seeing him. He paused just past Isaac's hiding spot and stood there for a moment, waiting and listening. Isaac peeked out from his hiding place, careful not to be seen by the curious soldier. Seeing that the soldier's companions were no longer around, nor was anyone else, Isaac quietly stepped down from his hiding spot and tip-toed up behind the soldier. The soldier miraculously didn't notice Isaac was right behind him, so Isaac made sure that changed. He tapped the soldier on the shoulder. The soldier spun around to see Isaac standing right behind him, who flashed a friendly smile.

"Hey, how are ya?" he said cheerfully.

The soldier hardly had a chance to even lift his weapon, because two seconds later his face was greeted by the butt of Isaac's rifle, sending him crashing to the floor. Not taking any chances, Isaac placed his knee on the soldier's chest, grabbed his collar, and brought his fist down hard on his jaw? Nose? Eye? He didn't really know for sure. All he knew is that he hit the guy twice, which was more than enough to knock him out. Seeing that the soldier was out cold, Isaac winced and flicked his hand a couple times. He looked behind himself to make sure that his little stunt didn't draw the soldier's companions over.

"Please God, don't let anyone hear that," he muttered under his breath as he set his own gun on the ground and picked up the soldier's glowing weapon.

It looked like some kind of assault rifle but it, of course, wasn't a normal one. It wasn't terribly big; probably about the same size as his rifle, but it no doubt packed a powerful punch. Along its barrel was the eerie glow that made Isaac's skin squirm. He never understood this whole Tesseract business, and if he could he would stay as far away from it as possible. The whole thing made him edgy. It was all too unnatural, too alien, like those science-fiction comics he used to read. He always told himself that none of that was real. After all, it was called science-FICTION, not science-reality. But as he looked at the gun -whatever it was- in his hands, he felt like an idiot to even apply the word 'fiction' to it. It was as if the illustrations on the comic page had materialized into reality in his hands.

"Just one," he repeated as he inspected the weapon, as if he would just figure out how it worked by looking at it. "One is enough. Sheesh, these things make me so nervous. Dugan might like this, though."

As he looked over the weapon, his touch tentative for fear of accidentally pressing something that might set it off, his attention was suddenly drawn by the sound of approaching footsteps coming down the hall right toward him. He looked up, his heart almost stopping for a second at the sound. However, as soon he saw who the footsteps belonged to, that second of panic was quickly replaced with a mounting hatred.

It only took him a moment to recognize the man hastily walking down the hallway toward him; that lanky little Japanese man, draped in a long dark coat and clutching a brown leather briefcase to his chest. His head was down and he didn't appear to be paying attention to what was right ahead of him, until he looked up and spotted Isaac.

Upon noticing the young soldier kneeling over the unconscious body of one of HYDRA's soldiers, Dr. Oshiro stopped in his tracks. He stared wide-eyed at Isaac, who slowly stood up as their eyes remained locked. Isaac glared at the Doctor with such intense hatred that he could physically feel his eyes burning. But that was most likely his body remembering the sensations hacking through every vein and muscle when Oshiro had him strapped to that table in Austria.

The glare Isaac was dishing out clearly was working, as the Doctor began to tremble at the sight of it. He trembled so hard that he rattled the briefcase right out of his hands, causing the loose clasp to pop off and its contents to scatter on the floor. Frantically, Oshiro stooped down and attempted to gather up all the papers and files that had dropped and splashed everywhere as fast he could, his panicked breathing coming out in gasps.

Isaac didn't hesitate. As soon as the Doctor dropped to his knees, he raised the HYDRA weapon and pointed it at Oshiro. "Stop!" he shouted, causing the Doctor to look up at him and drop the briefcase altogether.

Isaac ran up to him with the weapon still pointing at him. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Or, for Oshiro, it went back and forth between him looking at Isaac and looking at the weapon in his hands. He was trembling even more now, and slowly started to rise with his hands raised defensively. Seeing him slowly standing up, Isaac suddenly reached forward and grabbed the Doctor by the collar, shoving him up against the wall with the weapon still pointed at him. The Doctor let out gasp, his expression, a contorted mix of surprise and fear.

"Don't move!" Isaac growled. "Just for the record, I don't entirely know how to use this thing. So try not to make any sudden moves or I might accidentally push something and vaporize you! And as much as I would like that, we need you alive, so don't make me have to kill you."

"OK, OK," Oshiro pleaded. "I'll cooperate. Just please, don't hurt me."

"Oh, good," Isaac replied sharply. "You can speak English. That'll make interrogating you that much easier." He took a moment to give Oshiro a once-over, getting a chance to get a good look at the Doctor, since last time they met he was more focused on the pain the Doctor was inflicting on him. "You're Dr. Oshiro? You're really the one in charge here?" he said rhetorically. "Dear God. You're just a kid."

Upon hearing that, Dr. Oshiro's fearful expression switched to one of almost comical offense. "Excuse me! I'm twenty-eight years old!"

"Still," Isaac said. "You're only a few years older than me."

"Ah, of course," the Doctor said with an ugly smile. "And such a strong one you are; a fine specimen. Still as fresh as you were back in Austria. Maybe even fresher."

Shock instantly mixed into Isaac's glare as Dr. Oshiro spoke those words.

"Oh yes, good soldier," Oshiro said with a dry chuckle. "I remember you. I never forget a face, least of all yours. I could never forget you in my lab, strapped to the table, your screams echoing against the walls. It was glorious!"

Isaac shoved Dr. Oshiro harder against the wall. "Shut up!" he snarled.

"You can still feel it, can't you?" the Doctor asked. "That burning under your skin? Oh, the plans I had for you."

"I said shut up!" Isaac snapped, pointing the HYDRA weapon directly at Dr. Oshiro's head, wiping the smile right off his face. "You have a gun that can vaporize you pointing at your head, Doctor. I don't think provoking me is the smartest thing to do right now. So save your breath. You can brag all about your plans when we regroup with the Allies. I'm sure they'd love to hear what you've got to say."

"You won't get a word out of me!" Oshiro said. "I refuse to talk."

"Oh, you will, Doc. We have ways of making you. So whether you like it or not, we're leaving, and you're coming with me," Isaac said, never moving the gun away from Oshiro's face.

Dr. Oshiro struggled hard, trying to wretch himself out of Isaac's grip, and no doubt make a run for it. But the scientist could not match the strength of the young soldier, who tightened his grip and shoved him harder against the wall, drawing a pained groan from him. Oshiro eyes darted between Isaac's burning gaze and the gun in his hand, which hadn't moved from his face. Just then, his gaze stopped darting and rested on Isaac's face (behind him, actually, as Isaac realized later), and a devious smile crossed his lips.

"It seems, good soldier," he sneered. "That there is something you have failed to consider." Isaac tilted his head in confusion. "I am not a soldier, as you are," Oshiro went on. "So I cannot match you physically."

"So?"

"So how on Earth do you think I defend myself?"

The question on Isaac's tongue, asking what Oshiro meant by that cryptic remark, went unasked, as it was answered a second later by an enormous hand clamping down on his shoulder with a grip that threatened to rip his arm right off. The soldier didn't have a second to react before that enormous hand picked him up and flung him against the opposite wall. The weapon was snatched from his hands and he screamed out as his body hit the wall with a skeleton rattling crash, sending shock-waves through his body that seem to vibrate his organs into mush.

He shook his head, trying to regain his eyesight back. Once he could see well enough, he looked up and saw the brute of a man who had thrown him, now standing next to Oshiro with the HYDRA weapon clutched in his hand. He appeared to be over six feet tall, with a frame that obviously consisted primarily of muscle. His hair was ink black, and his eyes were even blacker, framed by folded lids, which showed him to be of Asian ethnicity, no doubt Japanese, like the Doctor. There was a nasty scar that ran down, almost completely vertical, from his hairline to his left eyebrow, and couldn't even be hidden by the creases in his forehead. He was wearing blue-grey coveralls, like that of a janitor or mechanic. He couldn't really make a solid guess at how old the guy was.

"He has a bodyguard. Fantastic," Isaac muttered before letting out a pained groan.

The Brute in question sneered and raised the weapon, pointing it right at Isaac, who noticed that he had accidentally left his rifle next to the unconscious body of the other HYDRA soldier. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Suddenly, Dr. Oshiro shouted at the Brute in Japanese, and he reluctantly lowered the weapon. Using this momentary distraction, Isaac grabbed his pistol out of its holster and pointed it at the Brute. Unfortunately, the Brute had quicker reflexes, shouting at Isaac in Japanese, pointing the weapon at his chest, while Dr. Oshiro shouted at the Brute in Japanese as well. Isaac froze with his pistol still raised as he and the Brute stayed there with their weapons pointed at each other, only just realizing how pointless his action was. How could have been stupid enough to think that his tiny pistol would make any difference against a weapon powered by an otherworldly power source; one that could vaporize him with one minuscule squeeze of the trigger?

"It is pointless, good soldier," Dr. Oshiro said. "You will be disintegrated long before you even have a chance to pull the trigger. So if you value your life, hand your weapon over."

For a moment Isaac didn't move, his gun still pointed at the Brute. Eventually, it began to sink in that the Doctor was right. There really was no point. He was out-matched, both physically and weapon-wise. His heart sank to the ground and his throat started to clamp as he racked his brain for some kind of plan to escape. As he did, his hand acted on its own and lowered his pistol onto the ground. The Brute stepped forward and kicked the gun aside until it was well out of Isaac's reach.

"There, that's better," Dr. Oshiro said. "Oh, by the way, good soldier, this is Kaito." He pointed to the Brute. "He is my right hand and most trusted guard. We are one being, him and I; brain and brawn. The perfect duo. Now, your knife, if you please, and no tricks."

Isaac's heart sank lower as he looked up at the Doctor before sighing in defeat and reaching down, pulling his knife out of its sheath. He held the knife in front of him as Dr. Oshiro and his Brute, Kaito, waited expectantly. Isaac hesitated, not wanting to give up the knife. His brain was in chaos as he tried to think of a plan. He had one idea, but it was a wild one. Still, it was all he had. Very slowly, he made a move of lowering his knife to the ground. Suddenly, he lifted the knife and threw it in Kaito's direction. The knife hit its target, embedding itself in the barrel of the HYDRA weapon, causing whatever held the blue glow to crack and start sparking. Kaito dropped the weapon with a cry of pain and surprise, providing a perfect distraction.

Isaac dove for his gun; the one Kaito had kicked aside. He only managed to get about a foot from the gun before he felt Kaito grab him by his collar. It was a very clumsy grip, however, and the collar slipped from his hands. However, Isaac felt something thin and metallic, like a chain, wrapped around his throat, causing him to gag and choke. It only took him a second to realize that it was the chain of his dog tags, which Kaito had succeeded in getting a hold of and was trying to use to hoist him up. Isaac fought his attempts, using as much strength as he could to pull against the chain. Finally, the chain either snapped or unclasped, and Isaac felt the pressure against his throat release. Kaito staggered back at the sudden loss of resistance, and then looked at the dog tags in his hand before tossing them aside with a growl and charging at Isaac, who was once again scrambling for his gun.

This time, Isaac succeeded in getting hold of the gun, and flipped over on his back to fire it at Kaito as he charged at him. But as he did, the Brute grabbed the gun and forced it away from him, causing the bullet to be fired into the wall instead. Kaito yanked the gun from his hand and chucked it behind him, where it landed right by Dr. Oshiro's feet. Thinking fast, Isaac swung his foot forward and kicked Kaito in the gut, causing him to double over and let go of him. Isaac tried to crawl fast to get his gun, but he wasn't able to get it quick enough before Dr. Oshiro sprang forward and grabbed it, right as he reached for it.

"Don't move!" he ordered, pointing the gun at the young soldier.

Isaac froze, staring wide-eyed at Oshiro, namely the gun in his hands. He raised his right hand in defense, trying to say something but nothing came out. He frantically jabbed at his own brain, attempting to find some way he could get out of this. Just then, the Doctor looked up at Kaito, and shouted something at him in Japanese.

Using the momentary distraction, Isaac charged at Oshiro, forcing him back against the wall as he attempted to pry the gun from his hand. However, for a lanky guy, Oshiro put up one hell of a fight, even against someone so much stronger than him. He just refused to let go of the gun, but that didn't stop Isaac from trying. However, his effort to get the gun was aborted by something hard hitting him on the back of the head, sending him crashing onto the ground.

Isaac groaned and tried to get up, only to be grabbed by the collar again. Through wobbling vision, he looked up and saw Kaito glaring down at him, his narrow eyes even narrower. Then, he saw his fist come flying at his face at high speed.

There was a jolt.

A crack.

Then nothing but darkness.

He didn't remember much else after that.

Everything flashed back and forth between complete blackness and either blurry or mostly clear images. He was pretty sure that whoever had him (Dr. Oshiro, no doubt) had him drugged most of the time. He couldn't even tell which of the things he remembered were real or just drug induced dreams. He only could recall that he was in a moving vehicle at one point, at least. Then there were bright lights and he couldn't move, feeling what felt like straps on his ankles, wrists, and possibly his chest. It was a similar sensation to when he was being tortured in Austria, except it didn't feel like typical torture. What did Oshiro do to him?

He tried to dig deeper into his mind to try and remember more details. But all that did was make his head spin more and his vision blur. To add onto that, his stomach felt like a black hole collapsing further and further into itself, and his mouth felt like the Sahara Desert. He had been so preoccupied with avoiding danger that he hadn't become aware of it until just then. When was the last time he ate or drank? He couldn't remember, but it felt like a decade ago. He also became aware that he was shivering. The air had a rather vicious nip to it, which was further enhanced when he suddenly realized that he wasn't wearing a coat.

Odd.

It really shouldn't be this chilly. The last thing he remembered, it was June, and the nights were often warm. Not anything like it is now. This sudden connection of time instantly ignited a spark of panic inside his chest. How long had he been held captive? Was it still the same year? He knew it couldn't be the same month, but there was no telling just how many months have passed since he was captured. He tried to focus harder on the few memories and images he had of his captivity, hoping that maybe he would remember a calendar or a clock that he saw that might give him some idea of what the date was.

But all that did was make his head spin even faster. It was like the more he tried to concentrate on those memories and images the more they were absorbed by the blackness of the night around him. The heaviness of his eyelids, the sinking hole in his stomach, the dryness in his mouth, and the burning in every muscle of his body, especially his legs, didn't help at all either. In any other situation he would stop for rest, but...he just couldn't right now! So he pushed himself forward, hoping to find some sort of reprieve; not even knowing where he expected to find it.

But it seemed that with each step he took, the blackness became deeper and denser.

Finally, what he had been waiting for earlier happened, and the ground underneath his feet dissolved, leaving him falling rather than floating into the darkness.

Or, more appropriately, his legs gave out from under him. The exhaustion, hunger, thirst, and fatigue had taken its toll and stole the bones from his legs, sending him tumbling down into the ditch that bordered the road. He let out a groan as he hit the bottom, but it was only half-hearted. With heavy limbs he willed himself to try crawling up the side of the ditch, but the cold and the tiredness in his eyes numbed his senses into pure unwillingness. Finally, his desire to persist vanished, and he succumbed to the weight on his eyelids. His head slumped down onto the cold grass, his eyes slowly closing as the darkness around him bled into his head, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

And as he fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep, a pair of headlights emerged through the blackness on the road, heading right in his direction.