The Boy Who Died

I walked into the museum,looking around every few seconds in case someone might recognize me. With a shaky breath I walked to the World War 2 exhibit and found him. Captain America, or Steven Rogers as his biography read. I read the description,how he was the first "super soldier", how he saved everyone and supposedly defeated Hydra. I walked around the exhibit some more,trying to find anything else of importance other than pictures of Steve. My heart skipped a beat as I saw a photo of..

Me.

I studied the photo, my hair was much shorter then. I wore an army uniform. I had a smile on my face. I read the description.

Name: James Buchanan Barnes

D.O.B: March 10, 1917

Gender: Male

Title: Sergeant

Bio: Sergeant James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes was a former soldier of the 107th Infantry Regiment and the best friend of Steve Rogers, since childhood. Barnes was conscripted and assigned to the 107th in 1942. His regiment was captured by the forces of HYDRA, but Barnes along with what remained of his regiment were rescued by Rogers, who had become Captain America during Barnes' military absence. Joining forces in the continuing war, Barnes and Rogers formed the Howling Commandos to battle the Red Skull's forces. During an attempt to capture HYDRA scientist Arnim Zola, Barnes was caught in an ambush and plummeted hundreds of feet from the HYDRA train. As no body was ever recovered, he was then presumed dead, but officially listed as MIA.

I felt as if my heart was going to come out of my chest as I kept reading,all this that he had...a family, a friend, and now it's all gone. Gone. Forgotten. No matter what I tried I would never get to bring them back. All because of Hydra.

Hydra.

I clenched my jaw. I hated it. I hated Hydra for taking away everything. I hated myself for not being able to remember. I hated that I wasn't strong enough. I stared at my picture for a long time, fighting the urge to break the glass into a million pieces. That young man who was looking at me had a life. He had everything and now because I wasn't strong enough he's dead. Dead. I stepped back and took a shaky breath before walking towards the exit of the exhibit but something made me stop. I didn't quite know what it was but something in my gut told me to turn around. I slowly looked behind me and a tall figure caught my eye. I couldn't see his face due to his hood but I cautiously walked towards him so I could see him but to where he couldn't see me. My heart stopped.

It was Steve..

I quickly walked back to the exit, not caring who noticed my quick retreat, I couldn't let him see me. I gave a breath of relief as I left the museum and made my way to my apartment.

Entering my room I took off my backpack and grabbed my notebook,the black leather was worn, the colored tabs sticking out everywhere. It wasn't the neatest but it was all I had. I opened it to a blank page, placing a new colored tab on the page and writing what I had learned about James..er Bucky..whatever people called him these days. After I wrote down everything I remembered put the notebook back and lifted up the loose floorboard near the door. Carefully, I put the backpack under it, and shutting it tight. I then sat on the mattress I had laid out on the floor,I thought of going to sleep but it was pointless to try,I was never able to sleep these days. I walked into the bathroom,looking at myself in the mirror.

I looked nothing like him. The boy in the picture at the museum. My hair was messy and tangled, draped over my shoulders. There were dark circles under my eyes from no sleep. I sighed, staring at myself, I almost felt pity for how messed up I was, but I shook it off. How I looked right mow didn't matter. I walked to the living room and sat on the mattress,the image of the boy, Bucky, kept coming to my mind, making my head hurt at the reminder of his death. I was exhausted but I fought to stay awake, because once I closed my eyes the memories flooded into my head,haunting me every night. Reminding me of what I did. But eventually my tiredness gave in and I drifted off to sleep.

*"Bucky!"

I saw Steve's horrified face as he held his hand out to me. I reached my hand out to him but he kept growing farther away from me. "No!" I yelled trying to reach him. "Come back." I begged. I didn't want him to leave. Looking around I realized I was falling. And then everything went black for a moment. My eyes opened only to find myself being dragged by someone,I couldn't tell who it was, my arm was gone, blood gushing everywhere, painting the white snow a bright red. I was dreaming. I had to be. When did this happen? What's going on? And once again everything went black. I was then in a lab,a scientist was saying something in german. My vision was blurry, I couldn't make out where I was,but then someone I knew all to well walked towards me..someone who no matter what they did to me I would never forget. Zola. The man responsible for my very existence. I struggled to escape,but it was no use, more scientists and guards held me back, one of them was attempting to inject something into me. Out of pure instinct I grabbed one of the scientists by the throat,throwing him against the wall. I stared at my new metal arm in shock,that was new..*

I woke up sweating on the floor, the lamp that was near the mattress I slept on was shattered. The floorboard next to the mattress had a gaping hole into it. Another nightmare. Great. I slowly sat up,shaking. Nightmares were something that happened on a regular basis and this particular one would happen quite often. Like my mind kept reminding me of how all this started. A boy falling off a train and getting taken away only to be turned into a monster. A weapon. Me. That's all I was. Nothing would take it away. Even if I died nothing would take away the pain.

I finally stood up, looking at the clock above the door. 9:00pm. Looks like I was going to have a long night. I left my apartment and climbed up the stairway to the roof. Finally on the roof I felt the cold breeze as it blew my hair into different directions. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It was calming up here,seeing the whole world down below. A world I hardly knew. But nevertheless it was beautiful, the city lights. The cars driving by, I sat down, my feet dangling off the edge. I looked at my hands, one of them was covered with a glove, my metal hand of course. It pained me to look at it, so much pain it caused. So much fear.

I stared at the world below me and wondered if I fell down how much it would hurt. It would probably only hurt for an instance and then that was it. I looked away and stared at my metal hand once more,taking the glove off slowly. I moved my hand around, as if it was my first time using it. The wind blew harder and the glove slipped put of my hand I reached for it but the wind carried it away. I frowned,it felt like the world was telling me I didn't need the glove. I didn't need to hide that I was the Winter Soldier....because everyone knew.

The next day I woke up on the couch,picking up my hair I walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge and ate a bowl of cereal. I thought about Hydra often,even though I hated everything about it with every fiber of my being. I wondered if anyone who worked under Hydra was still out there,many of them most likely survived. And they were probably out looking for me..

I shuddered at the thought of them taking me again. The only thing I could remember was the pain and suffering I went through at the Hydra base. The mind wiping, I would get punished just for speaking the wrong language, the beating,being put into cryo,being surrounded by scientists who are constantly injecting god knows what into your body. I tried to push the thoughts away as I finished eating but then I thought of Steve. What did he think of me? Did he hate me? Could he ever forgive me? Is he looking for me? No. He couldn't be looking for me. I almost killed him.

But what he said to me on the plane..

*"I'm not going to fight you Buck. You're my friend." Steve managed to say, his face full of blood.

"Your not my friend!" I yelled,running towards him,punching him with my metal arm. But something about hurting him felt different. It wasn't intentional more so I did it out of what I was programmed to do. "Your my mission." I said aloud reminding myself of what my job was. I had a mission. If I didn't succeed,I would suffer the consequences. And I couldn't go through that again.

"Then finish it.." He began,his breathing became more demanding, like he was struggling to find air. "Cause I'm with you...till the end of the line.."

I looked at him horrified. I've heard that before. Till the end of the line...*

I came back to that moment very often, pondering on what Steve thought of me now. He said 'Till the end of the line' right? That had to mean something. It had to. But then again, once he found out everything I did he would for sure hate me. And I am not Bucky Barnes anymore. Bucky Barnes died in 1945 when he was turned into the Winter Soldier. Into me. I killed him. Steve would never forgive that. How could he? I wanted to be Bucky Barnes again. I wanted to bring him back,but I didn't deserve it. After everything how could I? I couldn't be Bucky and be able to live knowing I hurt him in unimaginable ways.

I couldn't be Bucky Barnes. But maybe...maybe I can avenge him...

End Of Chapter 1