Bucky's Diary

December 28, 2009

Shattered – Trading Yesterday
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Dear Diary,

This morning was slow, I almost expected to be sent off to training with the guards by daybreak, but that was not the case much to my surprise.

Then, as hours passed, I expected it might happen after lunch. When that didn't happen either and I spent most of the day alone in my room doing nothing, I realized something was not right and that there was something in the works about which I had yet to be informed. Something distracting every worker here away from me and onto something else that was clearly more important.

Again, I was wrong. It wasn't something 'more important,' it was still me in the end.

The agents were in and out of so called 'meetings' all day to figure out what they were going to do with me. As far as I'd been informed, everyone they wanted killed had already died by my hand. I'd done everything they'd asked of me without question and now, seeing as they had been so ahead of schedule, they very literally did not know what to do with me.

In the later afternoon I was dragged from my room, still in my soldier's uniform, to the cryo-chambers that remained next to everyone else who'd been frozen for who knows how long.  I nearly felt bad for them before I remembered what they meant to me, how terribly they had once thought of and treated me. They saw me as a superior to them because of my arm, so they hated me for it together despite my efforts.

I seemed to be the only one who understood that the only constant thing in our lives was going to be one another. Guards would change and HYDRA agents would die off eventually, but we were lost in time somewhere untraceable. We went unnoticed and undetected, but still together. They knew it as well as I did, yet they still didn't care.

Perhaps it was because I was cruel. They saw me as a ruthless killer, a machine that worked perfectly and always fulfilled tasks in a timely manner as well as execute missions without hesitation. I was everything they built me to be and the exact description of what HYDRA wanted in their soldiers. I was the favorite the other would never be, even though I'd never tell them that.

Rumlow was there as the cryo-technicians set me up for an unknown amount of time on ice. He didn't say a word, he just looked at me like perhaps he wanted to scream at me loud enough for the whole room to hear, or maybe that's just what he looked like when he couldn't take advantage of me as he wanted.

I looked away from his eyes and ran back to my thoughts about myself, not wanting to drown in his never ending terror before suspended animation. I thought about my now inherent evilness and the fact that I was a natural born villain of sorts, an anti-hero at the very least. I'm a hitman, a metal fist and perhaps I deserve an eternity here in and out of life like some sort of lab rat.

And, while I can admit to the fact that I've lived a life of pain and loss and sorrow and fear, I can't help but feel as though the terrible things that happened to me didn't make me this way; I simply always was.

~ cолдат 3255-7038