Regeneration (Winter Soldier fan fiction)

Only A Crack

There.

There it was, rusted and cold.

Jame's breath fogged in front of his face in short white clouds of steam. He reached up and released the clips from his mask, and brought it down from his face. His reflection starred back at him from the frosted and cracked glass. Even though the surface was streaked with frosted grime, he could still see the reflection. It was not a pretty sight. Hallow eyes that were now grey bore at him, sending a shiver down his spine. They were full of anger and frustration that he could feel radiating from him onto the glass. But something else was there.

Guilt?

Regret?

Fear?

He grabbed his hair in frustration. It was too much to feel, it hurt to much. No, he hated it! Oh how he wanted the pain to stop, these aching feelings crawling through his chest. It felt like nothing he had ever expirenced before, but deep down, he knew he had. He refused to believe it, but he knew it be true.

He wanted to be dead, surley that was better then this, better then who he was, or even what he was. He didn't even know what he was. A mindless machine, used for killing.... If only they had seen what he had done....Stark's parents....

With a cry of rage, the glass shattered beneath his steel hand, flying through the center of the machine. Bits of it were in his tangled hair, on the floor, everywhere.

"Agh!" James grunted, specks of glass now littered in his cheek. Drops of crimson streamed down to his neck and onto his vest. Frustrated, he took off his leather gloves and bit down while he dug the glass out with his nails. His hand was now stained red, but this time with his own blood. Somehow, that made him content. His own blood for a change.

He streaked a red stripe down the rest of the machine.

What was this, tears?

"Anna..." his breath came out in a whisper, barley heard even by him. His breath fogged up in front of him.

"Bucky?" A soft voice, kind and sad spoke gently, scared of perhaps spooking the wounded.  James stayed quiet. It was too late, Steve had seen the tears, the facade of not letting anything through was already broken in front of him.

"Leave." James voice was cold. Steve did not belong in his own personal hell.

"No."

"It's been so long since I've seen your face" Steve's voice was begging.

James tightened his grip on his mask in his hand. He was getting uncomfortable. He looked down. "This is who I am now"

"No, its not Bucky" Steve sounded strained. "You saved me remember? All those times? You pulled me out of the river? And you brought us here, to save Anna. This is you. Not the person who hides behind the gun"

"She wouldn't be here if I had left her alone." James took a breath. "She's with HYDRA right now becuase of me"

"You can change"

"I can't change what has already been done" James looked at the machine. "This... is my legacy. This is what I am now. And I don't know if I can use it for the righteous path"

"What are-" Steve looked scared, becuase he knew what that meant. "You can't leave her after this. She's going to need you"

"Or she's going to want me dead" James smiled, a sad broken facade.

"Bucky...."

"Rest Captain." James was gone, back into his cave again. "You need strength for morning" And just like that, Winter strode past the Captain, clipping on his mask, the black covering the broken mirror underneath.