Rusted
Things have started to come back. I remember the person I used to be. But that person is so different than who I am now, they may as well be a stranger. I have no doubt that Steve is still trying to find me. Even after two years. But how can I say that his best friend is dead? They died in that ravine. He's just chasing a ghost. Just like how I chase the ghost in my memories.
Excerpt from Bucky Barnes' journals. Submitted to evidence by Anti-Terrorism Task Force in the Vienna Bombing Case. 2016.
….
2014. Paris, France.
Steve studied the file. Thanks to Sharon's help, he had been able to access the newest files in the search for remaining HYDRA agents, including the Winter Soldier. One incident currently drew his attention. Francois Beaumont, a scientist for HYDRA, had turned up at the police station, tied up and gagged. Pressed against his chest was a manila folder, listing all of Beaumont's transgressions with the organization. Besides the man wetting himself, he was fine. Not even a bruise on him.
A vigilante it seemed, turning in HYDRA agents. But what drew Steve's attention was the project that the man was associated with. He had been involved with Project Centipede briefly, but then was one of the higher ups in Project Clairvoyant. Since it was a fledgling study, there wasn't much on it from the leaked files. But it was clear what it was for. Mental conditioning. Brainwashing.
It had to have been Bucky. It had to.
So he pulled up all he could on Project Clairvoyant.
…..
Steve, before the whole super soldier thing, always got sick. Any shift in the weather would affect him. He would always bundle up as much as he could, so layered with clothes that he looked like a snowman. Along with a scarf and hat, the only thing you could see was his eyes, narrowed as if to challenge anyone to say anything. Though he would always catch the cold anyway. But there was one time that I thought he would die. The cold that year had settled deep into his lungs, filling them with fluid. Every breath was a battle, the rasp in his chest threatening to become a death rattle at any moment. I couldn't remember a time I felt so scared, besides when the 107th shipped out.
Whenever he mentioned enlisting, all I could think of was that fluid-filled rattle in his chest when he got sick. There was a good reason why they kept rejecting him. And even as I shipped out, I prayed that he would never be sent over. His body wouldn't be able to take it.
But what worried me even more was what War does to a person. I was never that great a person to begin with, so all it would do is bring out what was already there.
But Steve? That guy's a class act. He's too good for War. It would chew him up with its bloody fangs and spit him out, mangling him into something unrecognizable. And that would be worse than him dying.
Excerpt from Bucky Barnes' journals. Evidence from the Anti-Terrorism Task Force in the Vienna Bombing Case. 2016.
…..
2014. Berlin, Germany. Club Nyx.
The nightclub throbbed with the music, flashing lights illuminating the dancing throng around him. The Winter Soldier pushed his way through, his eyes trained on his target. A young man took up residence on an ornate chaise, lining up shots for his compatriots around him. Ulric Schmidt. Very distant relation to Red Skull, but he took every chance to flaunt it, according to the files online.
Flashes of another mission, in an eerily similar nightclub, bloomed behind his eyes. He shook his head, trying to blink them away.
He just needed to get the target alone. Then he could end Project Clairvoyant once and for all.
But just as he neared the group, a young woman approached dressed in a form fitting dress, the red complimenting her dark skin. She said a few words to Ulric. It didn't take long for the HYDRA agent to go with her. Throwing a knowing smirk to his friends, the two left to disappear into one of the many more private hallways.
He paused. Giving enough time for a young woman to prowl up to him, her hand sliding up teasingly from his arm to his shoulder. She didn't notice the rigidity of his metal arm as she gave him an inviting grin.
"Hey. Want to dance?" she asked in German.
"No thank you," he replied in turn, tracing the pair's path with his eyes.
"Bat for the other team then?" she tilted her head.
He didn't understand the reference. What did baseball have to do with dancing? Didn't matter.
"Have a good night," he answered, and went after them. It didn't take long to find them. The young woman had Ulric pinned against the wall, pointing a gun at his throat. Whoever she was, she was no assassin. She couldn't hold the gun properly, and from what the Soldier could tell, the safety was still on.
"Where is Cedric? I know you took him."
"I'm not telling you anything."
"Oh, so it's a coincidence that the last person he was seen with, was you? I knew from the look of you that you were some shady son-of-a-"
With a silent sigh, he snuck up on the pair, taking off the glove that hid his metal hand. In one motion, he plucked the gun from the girl's hand and pushed her away. He flicked off the safety and pressed it into the man's jugular. In the corner of his eye, he could see the girl scramble for something in her clutch.
"Don't move," he growled at her. Her eyes roved over him, widening in realization. He turned back to Ulric.
"You know what I want," he hissed in German. "Project Clairvoyant. Where is the lab?"
"You're looking for the lab too?" the girl asked.
He glared at her. "Leave. This is none of your business."
"Well it is my business. It's my tech they stole for Project Clairvoyant. And they kidnapped one of my lab mates to finish it."
Ulric looked between the two of them. His body tensed underneath the Winter Soldier's grip. He was going to make a getaway. His metal arm caught Ulric's, wrenching it hard behind his back. He screamed as the force of it dislocated his shoulder.
Pulling a pair of zip ties from his pocket, he quickly restrained the HYDRA agent.
"Doesn't matter. I have what I need. Go before I change my mind."
"No. You're not listening. I'm coming with you on this. My lab mate was kidnapped by these Nazi freaks, and there's no way I'm letting them use it for some evil world-denomination plan."
"Why would I let you help me?"
"You need someone with an in-depth understanding of how Project Clairvoyant. I can hack into their computers, delete the plans before they can do anything with him. There's also the fact, that oh I don't know, that I can call the police and tell them where you are?"
He gritted his teeth. "Fine," he ground out. "Let's go."
"I have a car."
"No. We need to take one. If anyone catches wind that you are with me, they will track down everything under your name. They will find us right away."
"Then what about his car?"
He thought about Ulric's movements. He had been watching him. Since the fall of SHIELD and HYDRA, he's been making quick work of spending his hefty inheritance on alcohol, drugs and the like. Typically, he was a frequent denizen of the red-light district in Berlin, and always stopped at the nightclubs, surrounded by his companions for the night. Then he would drive his car, still feeling inebriated, back to his mansion on the outskirts of the city. It was a miracle he hadn't killed himself in an accident yet.
Luckily, or unluckily more like it, all of the servants of the house had gone missing once HYDRA's secrets were outed. "Missing". HYDRA's polite definition of killed. So they would have the mansion to themselves.
Shoving Ulric into the back of his Lamborghini, a spare sock stuffed into his mouth, he and the woman got into the front.
"So why are you going after this, Sergeant Barnes?"
He clenched his jaw. Sergeant Barnes. That wasn't him.
"Don't call me that."
"Then what do I call you?"
He thought of what Captain America called him. Bucky. It belonged to him more than Sergeant Barnes, or James. But it didn't fit quite just yet.
"Just call me the Winter Soldier," he answered gruffly.
"Riri Williams. Masters student at MIT."
….
Sometimes when I have dreams, I see two versions of myself. One is the face of James Buchanan Barnes, before the war. The other is the muzzled face of the Winter Soldier. One of a hopeful, arrogant boy. The other a barely restrained animal.
Which one is my true face?
Excerpt from Bucky Barnes' journals. Collected as evidence by the Anti-Terrorism Task Force for the Vienna Bombing. 2016.
….
2014. Berlin, Germany.
Stark Industries was sponsoring a conference, encouraging research in engineering and tech to show off their latest inventions. Several universities had set up booths, with tables being allotted to specific research labs.
Steve and Sam split up, searching for the MIT booth. After asking around, they converged onto Dr. Anders' booth. An exhausted undergrad saw them first, carrying a tray of coffee. Eyes widening in surprise, the poor girl tripped over her feet, sending the tray flying. Sam caught her, while Steve managed to rescue the coffee. The girl, blushing in embarrassment, straightened her hair.
"How can I help you today?"
"We are looking for your supervisor, Dr. Anders. As well as two of your graduate students; Cedric Platel and Riri Williams."
She looked down, biting her lip nervously. The pair looked at each other. Something was definitely going on.
"Well, I know I'm not supposed to say anything, but since Captain America is asking," she lowered her voice, the two men nearing to hear her over the crowd.
"Cedric is gone. Near the beginning of the conference, he said he had to go do something, to prepare for the lecture he and Riri was going to give. But then he disappeared. So Riri had to give the talk by herself. Soon after that, she disappeared too."
"Anything unusual about how Riri was acting?"
The girl shifted on her feet. "Well, her and Cedric work closely together. The project was Riri's idea, and Cedric helped her out with the finer points of the wiring or designing the processor for the chip while he worked on his own Ph.D. thesis. Riri is only a Master's student so she couldn't give the talk by herself. At least according to Dr. Anders. Anyway, she thought it was weird how Cedric disappeared. Apparently, he was sick, but when we both visited his room, it was empty."
"How come you haven't gone to the police?"
"I sent an anonymous tip to the police. They searched and apparently, he went back to the States, so they considered the case closed. I don't know. It just seemed so odd."
"Is there a problem over here?"
The group turned to find Dr. Anders. The small woman paled as she recognized the two. Both men could read it in her body language; the way she tensed, her eyes flicking to the nearest exits. She was going to make a run for it.
Before the two men could react to it, the student slightly lifted her foot tripping the older woman in her attempt to escape. The men quickly surrounded her, and took her off to the side, the student quickly trotting after them. They smuggled the woman to a private room, shoving a door into the door handle.
"Tell us what you know," Steve ordered, his voice brokering no space for argument.
Dr. Anders narrowed her eyes. She glared at the undergrad. "Miriam, you will not receive any recommendation letter from me if you do not get security right now."
The girl raised her eyebrows. "If you have nothing to do with Cedric's and Riri's disappearances, I don't see why I need to get security."
"Listen to me, you little ingrate-"
"Hey," Sam interrupted. "Don't talk to her like that. Now tell us what you know."
…
When I think of what I was like before the war, or hell, during the war, I seemed to be this shiny new toy, full of life and luster.
But now, I'm just a rusted old thing, bearing little resemblance to what I was before.
That's what Steve doesn't understand. He's missing the old me.
He doesn't want what I am now. And the sooner he realizes that, the better. He has to stop searching. I'm getting tired of moving.
I just want to stay still.
Excerpt from Bucky Barnes' journals. Collected as evidence by the Anti-Terrorism Task Force in the Vienna Bombing. 2016.