Hello Sergeant (Bucky Barnes)

Return to me

Winter's POV

I woke up to see that I was physically restrained in a metal and glass cell. My first thought was: they're afraid of me. I didn't blame them; I knew how dangerous I was capable of being, but right now I could barely keep my eyes open. Whatever they'd given me was strong enough that my serum couldn't completely fight it off.

I heard the safeties click off of several weapons as the large blond man from earlier approached me slowly, having noticed I was awake. I studied him through the haze the drug gave my vision; he had intense cobalt blue eyes set in a classically handsome face with a firm jaw. His short blond hair was mussed, like he'd run his fingers through it. He was heavily muscled and slightly taller than me. I was aware of other people around me, but the way my cell was designed made it so I couldn't see them.

"Bucky, it's me, Steve," he said in a pleasant baritone. "Do you remember me?"

I closed my eyes, not wanting to answer questions right now. My body ached and my head was pounding; I couldn't focus on what he was saying. The only time I knew I'd seen this man, I'd been fighting him; my orders were to stop the intruders.

"I'll take that as a no, then. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I've always known you as Bucky."

I'd heard those names before; the woman my handler had called Evans had said them; she'd mostly called me James. I cracked my eyes open to glance at Steve, listening to what he was saying.

"You're from Brooklyn, New York, but we're currently going to Washington, DC."

I had nothing to say to that; those places meant nothing to me. He talked some more, but I didn't understand half of what he was saying. An unexpected brightness made me open my eyes again and I saw they were unloading my cell from the jet. I could see for miles from up here and I looked around the city, realizing I knew I'd been here before – wherever here was.

Ahead of me, two men were carrying a stretcher. A third man held up a bag of fluids to continue gravity feeding them into whoever was on the stretcher. They turned enough that I got a glimpse of a small, pale brunette woman in a dark suit laying very still and wearing an oxygen mask - the woman from earlier. Her eyes were open and her bruised, beat up face was turned to me. I could see her weakly lift her hand out to me, but a dark skinned man moved closer to her and took it in his own hand briefly before setting it back on the stretcher. I resented him for being in the way - I couldn't see her anymore. 

"What happened to her?" I asked the smaller blond man next to my cell, making an effort to speak English as that was the language everyone was using. He looked at me briefly, studying my face intently before deciding to answer.

"We don't really know yet," he said brusquely.

"Who is she?" I asked. "I know her."

"Her name is Sarah Evans," the blond said. "She's your fiancé."

I looked at him sharply, but there was no trace of humor on his open face – only...sympathy? I had no recollection of asking a woman to marry me; I doubted that I would have been allowed to do so considering I wasn't even given a real name, just Soldier or Winter.

"You aren't yourself right now; you really don't remember any of us?"

"No. You seem familiar, but I know nothing about you."

"I'm Clint Barton," he said with a sigh. "We're taking you down for a scan and testing. Unfortunately, this isn't the first time you've lost your memory."

I fought to stay conscious as we entered an elevator and then exited it on an interior floor. Everything about this place seemed familiar and I wished I knew why. We stopped in a room that was clearly a lab of some sort, but there was none of the equipment I expected – no cryo chamber or wiping machine.