My Name Is Bucky

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Shots rang out from both sides of me. I felt the hot, sticky blood pour down my leg from the wound. It was only getting worse. From across the field, in the midst of it, somebody desperately cried out "MEDIC!"

I wasn't a medic but I did my best to hobble over there. The man lay in the trenches, soaked in his own blood with a hole in his neck. I carried him closer to the outskirts so he would be one of the first rescued. I quickly tied a bandage around his neck, applying pressure.

More screams filled the field. I didn't know what to do. Who to save. If I would live. I dove down as a bullet soared past my ear, clipping it and causing it to bleed. I grabbed my gun and a dead guys ammo and started firing. I took down five of them before the seemed to have the advantage.

We were losing. I looked around, and our men were down. They were slunk over the bodies of their friends and brothers or they may dead in the field. Maybe fifty men remained standing. The wounded cried out for help.

"Surrender now, and live." I locked eyes with a soldier from across the battlefield. He looked over to his wounded friend. If we surrendered there was a possibility that we would get medical assistance.

He stood up slowly, placing his hands in the air. Others followed, one by one. I know I should have just surrendered then and there. Instead, I made the stupid mistake of pulling out my gun and making on last charge. The life of one of their soldiers was not worth the experimenting they did on me next.

The soldiers quickly disarmed me, hitting me over the head with the butt of my gun and grabbing my arms. They may have shot me again, I'm not sure.

"Let this be an example," one of the others yelled "of what happens when we give you charity, and you rebel. You rebel against all peaceful, all prosperous ideas."

They dragged me to their building, throwing me in a cage with the rest of my squadron and throwing away the key. They did tend to our wounded, but very hastily and without care. Two days later, three men opened the door to our cage and dragged me out. I struggled against them, but I was hungry and cold.

They beat me with sticks until I couldn't see or breathe. I heard one talking in a language I didn't understand to somebody else. Then I was loaded on the table, and I felt many spikes gauge into my cheekbone and bicep. I screamed as a plea for help.

A German accent snickered above me. "Sergeant Barnes, nobody is coming to help you now."

I shot up in bed, gasping for air. It was too hot. Too hot too hot too hot. I turned to get out of bed, but jumped again when I saw Steve. He held a pillow tightly to his chest, his breathing seemed shallow as if he were still the twig from Brooklyn.

My head pounded with thoughts. I climbed over Steve, eventually making it out of the bed, and searched for my journal. It lay open on the desk, although that's now how I had it. I flipped to the war section and scribbled down all that I remembered from my dream. The details were still a stained memory in my mind, yet I couldn't see them too clearly anymore.

It went under the war section, everything I could remember. I muttered things to myself as I scribbled down the dreams details. It would help me connect the dots.

But sometimes I couldn't tell what was real or not. For all I knew, this dream was something HYDRA put in my head to scare me. To give me a false hope or security. They would do that.

Something touched my shoulder. I snapped around, grabbing the arm with my left and squeezing before shoving it between the persons shoulder blades. Steve winced in pain.

"Sh*t," I quickly let him go and stepped back, hiding my journal in my bag again. "Sorry, I didn't know it was you."

Steve looked at me, trying to read my frightened eyes. I didn't even know what was happening with me. If he figured it out, he knew me better than I did.

Everything happened too fast. My memories flooding my head, my anger boiling up. I fell from the train, then suddenly I was dragged, beaten, tortured, used, enslaved. It snapped. The one prince of sanity I had left broke.

"You didn't even come after me!" I screamed in his face. I regretted it almost instantly. Fear and pain struck Steve's face. He reached out for me. "You didn't even come back! I fell into their arms because of you!" I screamed.

Steve held back tears. "Buck," I hated it. Why did he say that now? "I- nobody could've survived that fall."

"And you knew I did!" My throat started to burn. I wasn't upset. Why was I yelling? "You found out on that mission! And you didn't look for me!" My head pounded with the fear I felt throughout those years.

Steve didn't hold it in anymore. "You don't think I think about that everyday? I'm the reason your life ended up like this and I'm trying to do anything I can to help you. Please, please, Buck. Understand."

I turned my shoulder to him. "You left. You left me and Sam to talk to the lawyer alone. You didn't come back until-" I couldn't even finish my sentence, because I knew it proved I was wrong. The fact that Steve only reappeared when I needed him.

I pushed past him and walked out of his room, my head pounded and mind racing. I couldn't keep my balance. The floorboards moved out of my way when I tried to step on them. I heard him come behind me, and he caught me when I almost collapsed.

"She never even looked my way. Not once." I smiled gently.

A muscular Steve, not like the other versions I've seen in my memories, smiled to himself. "Better get used to it, Buck."

I stared at Steve, my mind racing. "Did you mean it?"

His pain and grief shown on his face. He attempted to hide it when he looked at me. "Mean what?"

"'Til the end of the line," I whispered, hearing the faint words echo in my head.

Steve hugged me tightly. "Every word."

We ended up sleeping on the couch, Steve held me tightly as to make sure I didn't leave him again. I could only sleep for a little bit, maybe an hour, when the headaches came. I should've woken Steve, but I felt too guilty over the past days events.

These memories weren't like the others. These were fake, planted in my head by HYDRA. They had a shiny quality to them and I knew exactly where they came from. But the memories brought on the most painful headaches I'd ever had. They were trying to do something.

I groaned quietly as I tried to deal with the pain. The thundering that happened in my skull didn't stop. I held down screams and tears alike. I think this is the moment when I realized that I was not alone. They weren't giving me up so easily.