The Soldier is waiting on the bridge, gun in hand, when the mission appears. The man was running at first but he slows and stops, staring at the asset. His eyes are full of something that hurts to look at, that makes the feelings worse and the English voice louder. The mission's hands are at his sides, body exposed. The Soldier could take a shot. He thinks he is fast enough to fire before the mission can raise the shield.

[I know that shield I know that man he saved my life]

The asset does not move.

"People are gonna die, Buck," the mission says. It is the name he heard in his mind

[MY NAME]

and to hear it reaffirmed sends hesitation through him, from the center of the chest and out. This is his mission. There can be no hesitation. This is his

[FRIEND]

purpose, to do as HYDRA commands. And HYDRA has commanded.

"I can't let that happen," the mission continues. But the asset stands between the mission and whatever the mission has come to accomplish, and the asset will not—cannot—move.

He tries not to hear the mission's words. But if he does not listen to the voice, all he can do is stare at the man, and the man's uniform

[You're keeping the outfit, right?]

is something that he cannot look away from. It's as if the Soldier has never seen colors before, as if his eyes are malfunctioning to make the red, white, and blue so vivid. It looks as if the mission has stepped straight out of one of the films HYDRA used to show the asset, films he did not remember before just now, about how repulsive and selfish and stupidly loyal to their government Americans are. He wants to feel sick. He feels

[Hey! Let's hear it for Captain America!]

dizzy and his breathing is heavy even though he stands still. It's not the right kind of sickness. It will not help him fulfill his objective.

The mission shakes his head. "Please don't make me do this."

Убей его, the Soldier commands himself, and why has he not killed him already?

[BECAUSE I KNOW HIM]

Нет, no, no he does not. He has never seen this man before today, he has never spoken to him or served with him or protected him or any of the impossible things he is thinking. He—

The shield is flying through the space between them and he barely has to move to deflect it, but the mission is advancing while the Soldier aims his gun and his shots are deflected. He is moving backward as the

[FRIEND STOP DON'T FIGHT HIM]

mission swings the shield, firing and spinning, blocking the man's blows, but he is backing up. He is on the defensive, and the asset is never on the defensive, never spotted until he's already fired and what is wrong with him? He cannot be this weak. He fires again and the blow must glance because the mission cries out, and

[NO]

when he launches himself forward to take the advantage of that, to take the offense, the shield knocks him back and the gun is flying, and enough. His teeth are bared as he pulls out the knife, and shut up, stop it, this is his mission and he will succeed and there will be no more weakness and crying inside his mind. But the mission is blocking his attacks and the ones that do land aren't debilitating as they should be. His body is holding back and he wants to scream, slam the metal arm against his own head until everything is quiet and running efficiently, but he doesn't have time to stop and recalibrate.

The mission knocks him backwards, runs to the console, and begins to interfere with the machinery inside. Did he do that to me? the asset wonders—why in English?—as he gets back to his feet, charging. Is that what's wrong?

[NO HE FOUND ME HE SAVED ME]

Before he can reach him, the mission has turned and again he finds himself on the defensive, finds himself weak. The human hand holds the knife and the Soldier forces it not to shake as he braces the stronger arm against it, shoves, tries to drive the blade into the

[FRIEND]

mission, the body, that's all he is. But the Soldier is kicked back, the knife lost, and the mission is at the console a second time, and no. No, even if his body is malfunctioning, the mission cannot succeed with his task. He charges, drives his fist into the shield.

The asset braces his feet against the floor, but it doesn't prevent him from being shoved back. He hears himself panting, grunting, making

[human]

sounds that his targets produce when he is eliminating them. As if he is a person. The mission's fist strikes his face and he screams, diving forward. They are both flying over the guard rail, the mission's shield hurtling away from them.

He doesn't feel the impact as his body slides down, only pulls himself back up and rushes at the mission. There is a hail of blows between them and the Soldier is not perceiving correctly. He should see each strike, focus on the most damaging and effortless placement, but instead his mind is full of

[he hit me he's my friend no he attacked me no I know him I trust him but he HIT me but]

chaos. He backhands the mission, sends him flying back, slides after him, and as he descends he sees the mission grab hold of a computer chip. He doesn't understand the significance of the object, but once the mission is back up, the Soldier knocks it from his hand and further below in a rush of

[spite?]

feeling. There is screaming in his mind

[YOU HIT ME YOU CAN'T HAVE IT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE MY FRIEND]

but it is not the voice begging for the fight to stop, because that voice is still shrieking in the background. It's his own voice, and English again, and he doesn't understand when or why he began thinking in that language.

The mission's elbow strikes his face and the asset is falling over the edge despite the scramble his hands make to hold on.

He sees the mission jump down and run straight for the object without a glance toward the Soldier. The asset's vision is going red at the corners, body heated and shaking with an emotion he cannot name. He can't name any of them and they're overwhelming and he feels as if he could collapse.

Grabbing the shield, he stands, sends it flying. The metal strikes the mission in the back, right between the shoulders, and he goes down.

[he deserved it NO HE'S MY FRIEND he hit me]

The Soldier fires over and over, the shield blocking every shot, and when the shield goes flying at him again, his arm effortlessly knocks it away. Retrieving a second knife, he runs toward the mission. That voice is still pleading, but HE HIT ME repeats in his mind over and over and repetition of MY FRIEND does not prevent him from driving the blade into the mission's shoulder. The mission slams his head against the asset's, once, twice, and the Soldier shoves him aside without a look back, eyes falling to the computer chip on the floor.

It is precious to the mission. The asset dives for it, because his body malfunctions when he tries to kill the mission, but he can take this, grind it to dust. The weak hand—his hand—closes around the chip just as the mission grabs him, and then he is in the air, the mission's hand clenched around his throat. His scream

[MY FRIEND HE'S HURTING ME MY FRIEND IT HURTS]

is choked and brief. He is thrown back down, body striking glass, one of the mission's hands shoving at his face and the other pulling his arm back. "Drop it!" the mission orders, and the Soldier can feel his hand

[human useless weak]

begin to loosen at the order until he forces it to clench again, striking out with the strong arm simultaneously. The blow is ignored, the mission shouts "Drop it" a second time, and there is a resounding crack as his arm is forced from the socket.

The pain is immense. That which accompanies it

[DON'T HURT ME WHY ARE YOU HURTING ME YOU'RE MY FRIEND SAVE ME YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND YOU CAN'T BE IT HURTS WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS]

is worse.

His arm is dangling in the mission's hold but his hand stays tightly shut and he tries to knock the man away but only succeeds in falling backward on top of him. The mission's arms wrap around his throat, squeezing, and his vision and hearing are going dim. The Soldier's mouth contorts, desperate for air

[HE'S KILLING ME HE'S MY FRIEND HE'S KILLING ME WHY STOP DON'T]

and the stronger arm grabs at the mission's hand, trying to save himself, but the mission forces the metal down, wraps his leg around it. The asset is pinned, struggles going weaker as his thoughts begin to drift.

[friend…you're my friend…why…]

He can feel his hand loosening just before things go dark, when he has no power to prevent it.

When he comes to, the chip is gone from his hold and the mission is flipping himself back up, headed for the console. He won't make it. The Soldier is a perfect shot, and the space between them isn't more than thirty feet. He

[a sniper didn't I used to be a sniper I saved him once I know I did]

aims with the metal hand. It is less precise than the weak one, but from this distance, it won't matter. He fires.

The blow glances the mission's leg and the asset doesn't understand how he missed a fatal shot, why he aimed at the leg.

Another shot. He means to strike the head but finds himself aiming for the arm. Why is he so broken this way? He is failing HYDRA, failing the world, falling to pieces.

[he's my friend]

Friends, the asset knows, without knowing what a friend is or how he knows anything about them, do not strangle each other. They don't dislocate limbs. And weapons don't have friends.

He changes his position, fires a third time. This shot strikes the torso.

He lowers his gun as the mission falls. For a moment, the Soldier feels as though he is watching from a distance, as if he's just woken from cryo and is in the strange period when feelings surface and nothing seems real.

He needs to reach the console, injuries notwithstanding. He needs to shoot the head or slit the throat, be sure of success.

But then the voice that had been stunned into silence is shouting again.

[MY FRIEND I KILLED MY FRIEND HE SAVED MY LIFE I'M KILLING HIM HE SAVED ME HE FOUND ME HE KNEW MY NAME I KILLED HIM MY FRIEND]

The shot will prove fatal if unattended. He has succeeded in the mission. Why does success hurt?

He stands, numb, blank, paralyzed, even as the helicarrier shakes and explodes around him. He does not know where the shots are coming from. The asset does not care. By the time he sees the beam crashing down upon him, crushing him, it is too late to move. He doesn't try. He is stuck, screaming, and when he sees the mission staring down at him from the platform, he wonders if the man will finish him off.

He thinks that death is quiet, and quiet would be welcome.

A/N: I initially intended this chapter to cover everything from the start of the bridge fight to the shore of the Potomac, but that would have been ridiculously long and I didn't like the flow of trying to write it all at once, so I decided to end here for now. Also there's only so many times I can watch this scene for research in one go without collapsing into a puddle of feelings and sobbing over Steve and his WWII uniform to try and help Bucky remember, and God bless you, Steve Rogers. And as someone who dislocated her shoulder twice as a toddler and can still remember the pain of it, that fight is just brutal to watch.

Translations for the Russian are as follows:

Убей его = kill him

Нет = no