A series of one shot chapters about Bucky Barnes mostly told in the first person by different people. Stories will reflect different times in the life of James Buchanan Barnes. This is PG rated and any sexual content will be kept to a minimum.
Mar...
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Author's note: It occurred to me that if the Winter Soldier was "reset" during a mission, he wouldn't be the Soldier anymore. He would be aware he was different. It seems logical that the serum, which constantly regenerated his physical injuries would likely regenerate his brain injuries during this time, restoring the synapses and brain cells that held his memories, allowing them to return. Imagining that the Soldier would take these opportunities to escape and try to get away from HYDRA, knowing in his core that they were evil and he wasn't, it seemed fitting that if he could find a community that was accepting of him (even the arm), that would welcome him, it could be a place where James Bucky Barnes could re-emerge. In 1971, there were already such welcoming communities springing up as young people sought a different life than what their parents had. What if he stumbled onto one and found an environment that sped up the healing of his brain, allowing more of his past to emerge? He would feel part of something good, until they realized his presence would put them all in danger.
The cover of The Hobbit in the photo collage is from the 1966 edition, with Tolkien's own drawing as the cover.
I woke up with a start, unfamiliar with my surroundings. It was dark, although a full moon was on the rise, and I was soaked. Understandable, considering I was lying on a sandbar in a river. Automatically my hand went to my side holster, finding it empty. My knife sheath was empty as well and I wondered what happened to my weapons. What happened to me? Calming myself I replayed what I could remember, tracking my target, lining him up in the sights, then just before I pulled the trigger an out of control car was on the bridge, aiming right at me and I jumped, landing a hundred feet below in the swift moving current that even with my strength was too much for me to handle. I had to abandon my rifle to stay afloat then the river bashed me against the bridge column, making my head ring like a bell. At that moment I realized something. The Asset wasn't there, it was just me, even though I wasn't sure who I was other than I wasn't him, and perhaps this time I could be free.
Quickly, I did a self-assessment, standing up and lifting my legs to see if there was anything too painful that would indicate an injury. Although I was sore there was nothing that felt broken. Whipping my metal arm around I felt it reset, then I looked at the sandbar I was on. It was long and narrow but near the end of it there was a gap of only ten feet or so to the shore. Stepping into the cold water I carefully waded through, pleased to see it was only a couple of feet deep in this location. It was easy to pull myself up into the brush along the river. Looking up at the night sky I located some constellations, smiling that I remembered them from my childhood. How did that memory suddenly come up? By their position it was after 24:00, if I was still in New York State. I knew that's where I was because they had programmed the optimal location to fire at the target while he had a drink in a golf course clubhouse beside the river, well within range of the rifle I was using.
I took stock of what my mission had been, trying to remember the details. The hit was supposed to be done by 20:00 and I was supposed to rendezvous with my handler at 21:00 at a clearing south of the bridge. The river flowed from northwest to southeast so I was east of my rendezvous site. A search party could already be looking for me. If I was going to get away this time, I needed to find shelter quickly, then deal with the food issue as I was already hungry.
