The Choices of Staff Members of Hydra

EPILOGUE

AMENDS

2023

Bucky hesitated as he stood at the door to the large townhouse in Georgetown, Washington D.C. It was a beautiful historical neighborhood and each of the townhomes was well maintained, keeping the old-fashioned touches that drew tourists and residents to the area. It was a very bright, sunny late spring day and he felt out of place wearing long sleeves, gloves, and the dark colors he preferred. It would be worse if the metal left arm was visible, even though the bright silver one was long gone, the vibranium arm still drew attention. He had no desire to endure the looks from the people who wouldn't know who he was, even though they'd just be curious looks. Worse was the look of fear on the faces of other people who may know who he was, even if they had no idea what had happened to bring him to where he was, the length of the journey in time, deeds and struggles that was not yet over.

Do the work. Sam's words echoed over and over again in Bucky's mind. He had been grateful to Sam for pinpointing what he needed to do to really make amends, even if he'd known deep down that it was what he had always had to do. It was different hearing those words from someone else, especially someone who understood exactly what Bucky had been, and how he'd made it to where he was. He had never failed to work hard, ever, from childhood, to working the docks in New York City before the war, to fighting in the war itself and even when he was the Winter Soldier. He could do the work. He didn't have to be eager to do it, but he would do it.

He'd crossed a few names off of his list since the conversation with Sam and after the end of the prolonged battle with the Flag Smashers. Those conversations with the families of those he'd killed when he was the Winter Soldier hadn't been easy for him or for the people he'd met with. The conversations had been short, which he'd come to expect. How much actual conversation would anyone want to have with the person who'd killed their loved one or ones? He'd been a different person, forced to do those things, but he'd still done them, and the people he'd spoken to were right to see him as a murderer.

There'd been so many victims of Hydra, from the targets themselves, to bystanders, witnesses, family member who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, or who'd found out too much. His current list was relatively short, considering how long he'd been the Winter Soldier. The small list, was, in and of itself, a source of discomfort to him. It was an example, in many cases, of just how thorough he'd been as the Winter Soldier. Too many of the victims had no family left alive, either as the result of time or being eliminated by him, to be sure there were no loose ends.

Yet, not every death he'd caused as the Winter Soldier weighed on him. Most were innocents, but there were others who were as far from innocent as one could get, and those did not trouble him like the others. He could see all of them when he closed his eyes, each and every face of every person who'd met their end at his hands, on orders from Hydra. There were too many of those who'd not deserved their fates, but some he could shrug off, like the murderer by proxy Arnold Corliss. Bucky could not find in Corliss' death anything to mourn, he had needed to be eliminated for the good of others, a rare moment when Hydra had done the right thing. Of course, they'd put Corliss in a position where he could cause harm, so they'd only done the right thing out of extreme self-interest. Those like Corliss did not require any amends at all. It was the weight of each innocent life that had been destroyed at his hands that at times threatened to crush him, but he refused to give up. By continuing to move forward and reclaim as much of his humanity as he could was the ultimate final act of defiance against Hydra, the organization he once been willing to give his life to defeat. The monsters who'd denied him death and instead forced him to serve their cause and made him a monster in return.

He took a deep breath and finally knocked loudly on the door. He caught himself hoping no one was home, but he already knew the person he needed to speak with was there, he'd made sure of that. He might have reclaimed his identity, but he would never lose the skills he'd gained in the seventy years as the assassin and intelligence operative for Hydra. Those skills had to be used for better purposes, even if it was automatic for him to use them to find anyone he needed to find.