(If you're wondering what's up with the writing style suddenly, there's an explanation at the bottom. )
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(Edited 2018 05 11)
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Chapter 2: Bucky Barnes - Pulled Pork Sandwiches
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22 bodies. 9 children. 6 women. 5 men. 2 dogs.
More than the usual.
Playground to the west. Food truck to the east. Fountain 7.53 meters in front of the bench I occupied.
Out in the open.
The trees' shadows didn't hide me.
Nervously, I pulled down my cap. I was too exposed. There were too many eyes. Needed to cover more of my face. Praying that nobody would recognize me.
So far, none have… yet.
That target still hadn't shown up here. It's been a week. The information said that she'd be here eventually. That she frequented the park. No one matched the picture in the file. Not even remotely.
Being still stuck in D.C… it wasn't pleasant. Every siren had my nerves on fire with dread.
Were they coming for me?
23 bodies.
A woman.
Not the one I was waiting for. One of the regulars of the park. She only did one thing, and one thing only. And she was already making a beeline for the food truck. Passing in front of me, she sent me the usual happy grin.
It unsettled my nerves.
What if she recognized me? What if she called the authorities?
Then I would lose my chance at the target. I'd have to leave D.C.
This time, she broke from routine.
Freezing midstep. Eyes staring right at me. Her head cocking to the side. Curiosity spilling from those pale gray eyes.
My muscle twitched. Ready to run.
Run fast. Run far.
"Somebody's hungry," she laughed, practically grinning from ear to ear. "I could hear your stomach from over here. You should try one of the sandwiches from the truck. The pulled pork is amazing…. I can't stop eating it."
That was why she came here every other day. Eating the same sandwich every single time.
I stayed on the bench.
She'd turn away. Give up. Continue on her routine.
Except she didn't.
She expectantly waited. Likely waiting for me to get up.
I didn't.
It was so jarring to be spoken to in such a manner. Friendly. Still so foreign to me. Though this was the first one to have no tension in her shoulders. Unfazed by my appearance.
"Menacing," one of the others who had interacted with me had tried to joke.
The librarian. The one whose muscles coiled every so often. Looking about ready to react to anything I did. Even when she was teaching me about computers.
There was also the man. The one who suggested the shelter and library. He was always on guard.
"Come on." Her voice was light, uncommanding and brimming with laughter. As if she didn't have a care in the world.
"I don't have the funds," I muttered.
I wanted to sink into the bench. I wanted to blend with the shadows. I wanted to disappear from her attention.
"Oh." Her face dropped for a fraction of a second before the grin was beaming again. Her shoulders shrugged. "My treat then."
Before I could refuse, she was already halfway to the food truck.
A small bounce in her step. A sway to her hips. A ponytail swinging wildly from side to side.
Nothing efficient in her movements.
I wanted to run. But the target could come today.
My head pounded. I couldn't decide what to do. Decisions were difficult. This one was too much. There was some autonomy with missions. But they were mostlyplanned out for me. Information gathered for me.
This was all new to me.
"Here you go." Her hand held out a wonderful smelling bundle wrapped in paper. Another one tucked by her chest.
The grin on her face grew when I carefully took the food from her with my right hand. The flesh hand. Couldn't risk her accidentally spotting the metal one.
"Enjoy."
I nodded. A gesture that escaped me. I couldn't understand why I did it.
She smiled in return. With a spin on a heel, her back was to me. Unguarded.
Close enough to reach up….
Snap the neck. Target incapacitated.
No one around could stop me. No one was looking.
Dead before she'd even realize it.
Far too easy to toss her body into the bushes behind me. One movement and nobody would be the wiser.
A quick and simple kill.
I hated where my mind automatically went. Death and destruction.
How many ways was there to kill a person. How fast it could be done. How easy it would be.
As her sandals slapped on the pavement, she made her way to the fountain. Her usual seat. Where she ate the sandwich like it was the best thing she's had.
This time though, those gray eyes locked with mine. Her head tilted with a grin. Then everything fell back into routine. She tore into the sandwich.
I looked down at the one in my hand. It smelled so good. Gingerly removing the metal hand from its pocket, I carefully peeled back the paper.
Pain shot up from my left shoulder. Random shocks. Damage left from the battle almost a month ago. It took a toll. I couldn't get it fixed.
Not without going back to them.
Forcing my brain to get the metal hand back into its pocket, I hoped that it would conceal the involuntary movements. To hide the pain I felt.
The young woman across the way was still staring. Her brow furrowing in question. Jaw chewing the food in her stuffed cheek.
I shook my head. Trying to shake out the pain.
Tentatively, I took my first bite of the sandwich. An explosion of flavor. It was so strong. It was nothing like the mush I've been eating.
There were different textures. Soft bread. Tender meat. Crunchy vegetables.
It was amazing.
It did wonders for the grumbling pit in my gut.
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"Another sandwich?" the young woman was back.
Almost like clockwork, though the time she came was always random. But she was here every other day, as usual.
I didn't respond. I shouldn't grow to rely on her.
"A different kind? I haven't tried the others. Got hooked on the first one."
Her head cocked to the side in question as she spoke. The feigned thoughtful pout broke into a carefree grin. A shoulder rose to almost meet her ear in a half shrug.
"Sure." It slipped out of my lips before I could stop it.
She nodded. Her hand came up to shield her eyes from the sun. They squinted just the slightest.
"Beef or… fish? Does that say fish? I think it says fish ta…co?" she questioned, reading off the menu.
I shrugged, glaring at her feet. Those toes wiggling as she rocked onto the back of her heels. I dare not look up.
"'Kay." She bounded over to the food truck.
A neon yellow disc flew from the east entrance towards the playground.
'What's that?'
It was spinning. Even hovered before rounding back.
It held so much of my fascination as to what it could be that I missed the large two colored dog dashing down the wide path. Not until it was in the air with a great leap.
It caught the disc in its mouth. Snatching it right out of the air. With its tail wagging, the dog excitedly trotted back to a man.
That was when my eyes fell on the young woman's frown. Furiously pacing the length of the truck. Her hands wrapped around a slim rectangular object that glowed on one side.
Something everybody seemed to be constantly interacting with. More than they did with anything else. More than other humans. Even in the shattered bits of my memory, the handlers used them.
Her shoulders drooped with a heavy sigh. Her hand shoved the device into a pocket with unnecessary force. Her fingers ran through the long dark locks. Color reminiscent of a deep pool of blood.
Those gray eyes darted up from the device and found mine. A smile graced her face once more. Her emotions changed so freely. Even giving a laugh going by her shoulder movements.
It wasn't long before she was walking over. Two sandwiches in hand. This time, she plopped down on the other end of the bench. To my right. Holding out the sandwich. "I got beef for you. Turns out the fish was really a taco…."
She seemed proud of the fact she could read it. Did normal people not have such clarity with their sight? My senses had likely been enhanced over the years. Or did she have an eye problem?
I hated how my brain automatically picked apart the morsel of information. It could come in use in the future.
I gave a small nod, taking the paper-wrapped bundle.
"I'm Valeriy."
A name. Her name.
The last name given to me via voice was my own.
Told to me by… St… St… the man in the exhibit…. The man from the Helicarrier…. The man… the man on the bridge…?
"You?"
I shrugged. I had no idea how to answer that.
They called me the Asset. The Winter Soldier. A weapon.
The exhibit called me Bucky. Best friend. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. A… a hero.
I didn't want to be the former and I had long lost the latter. I didn't know who I was, so I just dug into the sandwich.
Again, it was something different and the opposite of bland. This burned my tongue less than the other one. The meat was chewier. The vegetables cut differently. And something yellow. Yellow and gooey.
"Okay," she said with a shrug.
She didn't seem too put off by my lack of a response. She started her meal, enjoying it fully. If her expression was anything to go by.
The silence between was only broken by the rustling of the wrappers.
This was… pleasant.
To share a meal and not be alone. To talk to someone. To not be ordered around.
I finished my sandwich before she finished half of hers.
After some time, the young woman muffled a laugh. The back of her hand covering her mouth. Her eyes trained on an uncoordinated pup rolling on the dirt pathway. When she turned them onto me, I could see the mirth dancing in them.
I quickly looked away. Glaring at the dirt. I couldn't risk being recognized. Pulling the bill of the cap down to hide. To feel safer. Wishing I could sink back into the shadows of the leaves.
"Hmm?" she hummed. Her chewing pace sped up. After a few more seconds and a swallow: "What is it?" Gentle. Light. Neutral.
I could still feel her eyes on me. I couldn't help but shrink away. Hide under the hat. Hide under the collar.
"Just ask. If you want another sandwich. Sure." Her elbow lifted a little from the corner of my eye. Likely another one of her shrugs. "If you're going to ask about my sixth toe… I may not answer."
Immediately, my focus was on her feet.
The left. Five toes.
The right. Five toes.
All ten gave a playful wiggle. I looked up at her face that twitched a couple of times.
Bell-like laughter broke through the air. The young woman doubled over in giggles. Going as far as tears escaping her eyes. She struggled with a gasp. "Oh my go –! Hahahaha! I can't – I can't b-bre-breathe – Hahaha!"
The half sandwich in her hand plopped onto the ground.
"Awww… Fuck…. Oh shit! No no no no no! Stop! Drop it! Spit it out! Damn it! I don't think you're supposed to eat – Fuuuuuu – ish…?"
As the disc catching dog ran off with her lunch, she waved nervously. Towards the playground at the various adults glaring her way.
She plopped down back on the bench. Her arms and legs crossed. One glance my way and a chuckle later, she was back to an uncontrolled bout of laughter.
When she finally calmed down with a sigh, I spoke up. "Your sandwich…. Sorry."
"Oh no no no." She waved her hand dismissively. "The expression on your face was completely worth it." The young woman lolled her head to the side, facing me. Grinning ear to ear. "So, what is it?"
"Why the food?" The words escaped right out of me.
I tore my eyes away from the friendly expression. Focused on the rest of the park.
The target still hadn't shown up.
"Hunger's no fun," she replied lightly with a grin after she swallowed.
"But why?"
Nerves lit. I spoke out of turn. I wasn't asked to speak.
I watched her. Ready of punishment.
But her shoulders merely shrugged. She thought for a moment. Then a soft grin pulled at her lips. It was different. I couldn't figure out why, but it was different. Less bright, but… warming.
"I don't want anything in return. Don't worry about that…. Somebody… somebody did the same for me years ago. He helped me out more often than not and didn't want a thing from me. I learned a lot from him….
"So fuck being all judgy. Fuck the image. If someone's hungry in front of me, then I can damn well buy food. Just doing what I feel like. Nothing to it."
But it wasn't nothing. At least to me.
This was a shred of hope.
That I might be more than a weapon. That I might be… that I might be a… person.
"So…" she started, "what brings you to this park? I see you sitting here every time I come."
I tensed.
Did that mean she started coming around here at the same time I did? Had she slipped up? Was she here for me?
'Are you one of them…?'
Muscles coiled ready to fight my way out of this. Eyes darted to every face. Every movement in the park. To the cars driving by.
All the while, the warmth turned to ice in my veins.
"Well, except the first few times? I don't recall you sitting here."
I relaxed slightly.
She couldn't have known I'd be here. Not before I knew. Not before I found the information. The target.
"Waiting," I finally replied.
The target had yet to show her face. The information said that it was rare. But that she would show up here… eventually.
The young woman nodded. Grinning at the uncoordinated pup running after a butterfly. Another silence washed over us. Her toes wiggling against her sandals. With a soft sigh, she stood up. A gentle smile on her face. "I guess I'll probably see you in a couple of days?"
I shrugged. It all depended on the target. She could show tomorrow. Or tonight. Hopefully soon.
"See you around, Stranger." With that, she walked away. Barely dodging a horde of racing children.
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18 days.
I've been sitting in this park for two and a half weeks.
There hadn't been a whisper of the target. The information said that she would show. It said that it'd be rare. But that she would definitely show.
I could feel myself doubting the information I found. It was irking.
Then, there was the young woman. Munching hungrily on a pork sandwich. Practically inhaling it. As if she hadn't eaten in days.
She'd pop into the park every other day. There'd be a small greeting from her. She'd ask what I wanted. A shrug was always my response. She'd return the gesture, skipping away.
Five meals she'd bought for me now.
It was no longer just her routine. It was becoming ours.
It was nice.
The silent meals. The small exchange of words. It gave me hope. That I could do this. That I could overcome this. Whatever that was done to me. For what I've found out to be decades.
They had me for 70 years.
"That hit the spot," the young woman laughed. Sitting back against the bench. Tossing the balled up wad of paper and sauce right next to the trashcan. Her lips pursed into a frown. Long legs kicked out to bring her onto her feet. "Damn. You're better at this."
A small game between us.
I had never missed the can. A simple shot. Helped that I was closer than she was.
Her dainty finger snatched up the wrapper. Only to miss again. "Oh come on! I'm right next to the fffff…ish…?" Her voice faded.
Her eyes followed a pint-sized blond child racing past her. Gray eyes rolled. Slim shoulders sagged. She picked up her garbage once more. Properly disposed of it with a hand on her hip.
"You look exhausted, Buddy. Have you been sleeping well?"
I shrugged.
I haven't.
The nightmares. The faces. Faces that were familiar. Faces that were splattered with blood. Faces frozen in horror. The faces of the dead I left in my wake.
A question passed over her features, but she shook her head.
That was when I noticed it. Something over her shoulder. The little blond boy who had cut off her words. He was running up to a black SUV with a blonde woman seated inside.
I shot up onto my feet.
But the door had closed. The car was driving away.
I couldn't chase after it. Not without raising questions from strangers. I haven't seen people run that fast. Not since the man on the Helicarrier. I doubt most people could run that fast.
Then there was the weapon fused to my shoulder. The damage done to it. The pain would only hinder me. If only it could heal. Like my once dislocated shoulder.
The blonde woman. It could have been her. She could have been the target.
A barely familiar feeling of lightness invaded my chest. Hope. There was still hope. Hope that I could be free.
That she actually came to this park. Just as the information said. That I wasn't wasting time.
"What's wrong?" The young woman whirled around. Scanning the surroundings. Seemingly systematically. Her head tilting to the side.
Doubtful she would find anything. She didn't even know what I was waiting for.
She turned back to me. A brow raised in question.
I shook my head. Eased back down onto the bench. Spend a bit of time here. Sort out my thoughts. Before heading back to the shelter to clean off the day's grime.
With a shrug, she dismissed the whole incident. "Alright. I'll try not to be so late next time." She laughed rather nervously. Glancing at the now closed food truck. Packing away for the night. "See you around, Stranger."
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'This has become a routine,' I couldn't help but think.
The scrunched up ball of paper flew from my fingers and straight into the garbage can.
It's been another week.
Of waiting for the target. Of eating sandwiches. Of watching the park goers.
My eyes chased every blond boy. But they've settled on one. One that came almost every day. Between 1536 and 1721.
The blonde woman wasn't with him. He was accompanied by a darker skinned one with black hair. Always following the boy. Chiding him when he fell. Bandaging up the knee with care.
I doubt that woman was his mother.
"How the hell are you not boiling under all that?" questioned the young woman next to me. Her back twitched. "I'm feeling cooked just looking at you."
She wasn't too off. It was sweltering. The sun beating down on everything. But I needed the layers. There was no other way to hide the arm. It would give me away. So I was stuck in the heat. Bearable compared to the cold. The snow. The ice.
"What else do you eat?" I tried warily. Working the rarely used muscle of my voice. She hadn't yet lashed out when I spoke. Not yet.
"Uhh… well… once in a while, I'd have a proper meal at a restaurant…? But usually, it's all the unhealthy stuff you can think of. Mostly fries and donuts. Junk food."
"Donuts?" I repeated.
It sounded almost familiar. But what memories I could have had of it… it was easier to catch smoke.
"Diabetes in the form of a round bun with a hole in the middle? Donuts." Her grin grew wider and wider. "I'll bring some next time. How's your sweet tooth, Buddy?"
I shrugged.
I never knew how to answer her questions. It felt as nice as it did frustrating when she asked. To have my opinions considered.
But I didn't have any.
I didn't know what I liked. I didn't know what I wanted. I barely even knew how to make a choice.
I left it to her to make it for me. Though she left it to a coin. Flipping one before she ordered as of late.
She had taken the fish taco off the list she'd ask me. I was glad that she no longer considered that as an option. I preferred the other two. I still shrugged every time.
The woman tossed her wrapper. It went in this time. With no fuss. She pulled out the little black device. Her eyes widened. She was on her feet in a second. "Shit. Why is this a dead zone in the middle of a bloody city? I got to go, Stranger. Donuts next time," she spewed out. Half running away.
A calm tune started emitting from her. A device flew from her grip with a yelp. She tried to catch it. She pivoted on the ball of her foot. Caught it against her calf. Her finger slid across the surface and brought it up to her ear like I have seen others do.
"…Hello…?"
Her shoulders were tense. Her body curled into itself. Standing stock still. She was scared. She flinched away from the device. The other hand came up to rub at her ear. She stared at it with slight horror.
I could make out some soft screaming coming from the device. The words too blurred to make out.
That was unusual for her. The easy happy bounce in her step, gone.
'What's happening?'
She even stopped walking.
A deep breath in and she pressed the device to her ear again. "Yup. Yup. I'm listening…. He's not budging…. He doesn't want money. What am I supposed to do?"
Her hip jutted out to the side. Her free arm wrapped around her midsection. Irritation clear in her body language.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll try to figure something out…. 'Kay, 'kay. I will figure something out. I still have two weeks before he leaves D.C…."
Again, she flinched away from the device. A scowl on her face. She shoved it into her back pocket and pulled out something small, inserting it into her ear.
"Eve?" she called out softly. She continued on her way out of the park. "Could you gather everything on Wegner? His work. Projects. Family. Anything. Everything…. I hope it works out. I hate doing this…. Hmph. Everybody has a price…. 'Kay, thanks."
With that, she turned the corner. Out of sight. Voice fading out of earshot.
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I couldn't believe my luck.
Three and a half weeks of waiting.
24 days.
And here she was. The target. With the boy. The very blond boy I've been watching the past week. Had to be her son.
Though their eyes were of different colors. Hers were green. His were blue.
With her entrance, the woman had brought five other bodies into the area. She sat down on a bench by the playground. One of the men with her opened a briefcase. Handing her papers. She wasn't going anywhere soon.
I took the time to watch the other four men of hers. They were Hydra. She worked for Hydra. They had to be Hydra. Her bodyguards.
The information was correct. She was someone. Someone of importance to them. Someone worth protecting.
One was a trained agent. With the way he held himself. Eyed the surroundings. It was clear he was an agent… and a familiar face.
Dread winding its way into me. I wasn't going back there. I couldn't go back there.
Not when I was free. Finally, free.
But that wasn't true. I never could be truly free.
Learned that the night I came to in the abandoned bank vault. And before that, when they were abandoning it. When I only spared one of them.
They've done something to me. If I slip, I'd walk right back into their hands. I'd disappear again. I had to figure a way out. I needed a way to get them out of my head.
I want to be free.
My teeth ground in frustration.
I had to stay hidden. Forced myself to stand. Every step felt like fire eating away at me.
That woman. She could have answers. That's what the information said. It's why I've been waiting in the park.
But if I was recognized… I'd be finished. This would be over.
I'd be running from the authorities. From them. Hydra. The target would change parks. This wouldn't be safe for her to go to. Not if they knew I was here. Waiting. Watching.
I had to trust the information.
That she'd come back again. A third time.
The target would come back.
She had to.
Hopefully with other men. Men that I haven't seen before.
But that wouldn't put me at ease. I had no way of knowing that they wouldn't know my face. The world knew my face. Plastered in museums.
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AN:
So that's technically the "first chapter."
The Prologue's mainly there to show that I do have grammar skills since Bucky's chapters are so choppy and broken. My way of showing how broken his mind is, being that this chapter is written in his point of view. To show his fragmented mind via fragmented sentences. The way the sentences are broken up is a wordlessly way to let you know how his state of mind is doing at that particular moment, as well as unsettling the grammar loving side of us to mirror how unsettled he is with himself.
He'll get better. He'll get better someday.
Chapter titles will contain the name of whose Point of View it's written in.
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PS. As for unit of measurement Bucky used at the beginning of the chapter being meters, it's because I think Russia uses it, at least according to Google.
And if any Canadian spelling leaks through in Bucky's chapters, feel free to let me know. He's supposed to have American spelling. I don't think Hydra would bother messing with spelling...