Remember

|4| I Lost Myself Again

pov bucky~

I looked back at him like he was making it up. I'm serious. It sounded fake, legitimately. I mean, If he wasn't willing to explain every aspect of the story, then I don't see how he expects me to believe him.

"You're not liking what you're hearing, I presume," he said to me, reading my face clear as day.

"Look, Steve, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't make myself remember and I'm sorry I'm not the man I'm supposed to be and that I did all those terrible things everyone is telling me I've done but, at this point, it is what it is. I can't change it. All I can do is accept it," I blurted out. "Do you have any idea what I've been through? It's not like I've forgotten everything on purpose. Do you think I don't want to remember? Is that what this is? Are you mad at me for not remembering? At least I'm here. At least there's potential for me to get better. At least I'm telling you to help me because I lost myself again and this time, I don't even remember you."

"No, no, no, Bucky calm down. That's not it at all. I'm here for you, don't you see that? We're only trying to help you," he interjected.

"Well, I don't know who to trust anymore. There's just too much- it's all just too much for me right now. I've spent the last fifty some odd years trying to find a way out and now that I finally have, it's like there's nowhere to go. I feel more lost now than I ever did before," I explained. "This last time, the most recent time they wiped my brain, it felt different. It was so much more painful but I don't know why. The only thing about it that I really do remember is that I cried, Steve. I cried more than I feel like I ever have in the almost one hundred-something years I've been alive. It felt like- like someone was pulling at my oldest memories and ripping them to shreds right before my eyes."

His eye grew sympathetic as he saw me wipe a tear from my eyes.

"Do you wanna know what they did to me?" I paused.

He waited.

"Do you?" I asked again. "Fine, I'll tell you anyway. I don't exactly remember how it all began because that was so, so long ago. But there was this one time that you may have actually heard of; that you might recognize..."

It was late November 1963.

I was sitting in this metal torture chair and I had just endured the worst pain I've ever felt in my life... again. It felt like thousands of volts of electricity pushing through my body - enough to kill five men - but it would never kill me, no matter how much I had wished it would. I don't know how many times they've done this to me by now, but it's certainly been a lot more than I would like.

There was a man crouching before me. He was handsome, actually. At least this is what I had originally thought of him. Blonde-ish neatly styled hair, blue eyes, physically fit and in some sort of a uniform that matched the other men in the room.

"Did you hear me, солдаты?" he said plainly. When I looked at him blankly, he slapped me straight across the face. "Answer me when I address you. I'll say it once more. Did you hear me, солдаты (soldier)?"

"Yessir."

He nodded. "Now then, we're bringing you to Dallas. You only have one job, and a simple one at that. It shouldn't be a proble-" he stopped and stood as another man gave him a folder. It had a name on it.

CLASSIFIED:
Lee Harvey Oswald

"What is this, Rumlow?"

"It's information regarding the plans for today, sir. We'll be at Dealey Plaza in Dallas, Texas and soldier 3255-77038 will be stationed nearby," the other man, Rumlow, said while looking over at me. "We'll have some HYDRA agents to cover for him... one of us will be with a black umbrella and will be stationed down the street as a distraction, I'll stay with the United States military disguised as a secret serviceman with a machine gun just in case and the folder is for the last, he's the 'ordinary citizen' type, and he'll be the most important alibi for us."