Battlefield ★ Bucky Barnes

XVIII. Mission Report

He could see them. His mind was trying as hard as it could to piece together the scattered memories floating around inside his brain, but it was difficult, so difficult. He wanted to remember so badly; he wanted to know why the man and the woman he had been sent to eliminate had provoked so much emotion inside him, not to mention emotion he wasn't even aware he could feel.

Several glimpses of what he believed to be old memories played on a loop inside the soldier's mind.

He could see a girl—the same girl from the bridge. Her long brown hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and her lips were painted a bright red. Her dress was of floral print, while she wore a pair of oxfords on her feet, rather than a pair of heels. She was so vibrant and exuberant, and for some reason the soldier couldn't help but feel a strange sense of comfort and belonging because of it.

The brunette turned around to look at him, her smile wide and bright. There was a strong emotion in her big brown eyes as she looked at him that the soldier couldn't seem to figure out, no matter how hard he sifted through his mind to do so. The soldier could see himself moving toward her, and in a split second he had her wrapped up in his arms, eliciting a giggle from the petite brunette.

"Bucky, no," she laughed as he picked her up off the ground.

The picture inside his head disappeared quickly, and the soldier sucked in a breath because of it.

Seconds later, a new image was flashing inside his mind. This time, the man from the bridge was the only one he could see. He was hanging on to the side of what appeared to be a train car with his hand stretched outward; the soldier could only assume the man's hand was outstretched to him, and his assumption was only confirmed the moment the man uttered the same words the girl had in his last memory: "Bucky, no."

A wave of anger washed over the soldier as the images disappeared from his mind, and without thinking, he swung his metal arm at the man tending to him, knocking him clear across the room. The S.T.R.I.K.E. team members raised their weapons at the soldier, more than ready to shoot if they were provoked. The soldier was unstable, that much they knew, but the reasons as to why he was were very unclear, even to the soldier himself.

He had spent so many years with absolutely nothing on his mind except his drive to kill and his drive to complete the missions he had been assigned to complete. It annoyed him terribly to know that two people, two of his missions, nonetheless, had sparked something inside him he'd never known, or at least remembered knowing. Deep down inside of him, he knew that he knew these two people, and he knew that he cared for him. What he couldn't seem to figure out was why—why did he know these people, and why did he care about them as much as his muddled mind was leading him to believe?

The soldier sat in his seat, staring at nothing, when Alexander Pierce appeared in front of him. Normally, the soldier would have given him his full attention, but at the moment his attention was elsewhere, much to Pierce's annoyance.

"Mission report," he spoke to the soldier.

No response.

"Mission report now," Pierce repeated.

Again, no response.

Pierce moved closer to the soldier. He studied the dazed state he was in for a split second before raising his hand and swinging it. A loud smack could be heard as Pierce's hand made contact with the soldier's face, followed by a grunt from the soldier himself.

The soldier turned his head slowly to look at Pierce, his blue eyes filled with confusion. "The man and the woman on the bridge. . .who were they?" the soldier questioned Pierce as more images of the two of them flashed inside his mind.

Pierce could see the emotion sneaking into the soldier's eyes. He was slowly figuring things out, and Pierce refused to let that happen. He could not let a seventy-year-old emotional attachment jeopardize everything he had worked so hard to achieve. "You met them earlier this week on another assignment."

"I knew them," the soldier told Pierce quietly.

Pierce grabbed a chair and sat down in front of the soldier. He could see the emotion growing stronger and stronger in his eyes as his mind continued to work out the details of his scattered memories. "Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos, and tomorrow morning, we're gonna give it a push. But if you don't do your part, I can't do mine, and Hydra can't give the world the freedom it deserves."

The soldier's eyes glistened with sadness. "But I knew them."

Pierce let out a sigh and stood up, turning his attention to one of the soldier's caretakers. "Prep him."

"He's been out of cryo-freeze too long," Pierce was informed.

"Then wipe him and start over," Pierce order before taking off.

The soldier could only sit back as they took away what little piece of himself he had left.