Hellbird

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Hellbird P.O.V.

A slight creak alerted me to the door opening the rest of the way. I didn't move from my spot leaning against one of the molding walls of the dirty apartment. It was a sad apartment really. A pathetic attempt at a home.

A figure stepped out of the hallway, his stringy brown hair hanging in his face. He was wearing a jacket and gloves but I recognized him regardless. He glared at me, but something about it seemed halfhearted.

"I'm not going back," he said, "I'm never going back."

That made my job much easier. I had assumed as much and pulled a knife out of the sheath strapped to my thigh. In the blink of an eye I threw the knife at his chest. His left arm shot up and he caught the knife, the tip barely an inch away from his heart.

He tossed the knife to his right hand and lunged at me. I spun out of the way, whipping my wings open and slashing them around me in a whirlwind of razor sharp metal feathers. It was a signature move of mine and worked quite well.

I stopped spinning, a good couple feet away from him. A few slashes appeared on his face. A slash above his left eyebrow dripped blood into his eye and he wiped it away, presumably so it wouldn't disrupt his vision.

He ran at me again, swinging his metal left fist at my face. I ducked and shot my right arm out, grabbing his ankle out from under him. Gravity did the rest and he slammed into the musty wooden floor.

I straddled him, sitting on his chest and punched him in the face. Pulling another knife from a sheath strapped to my thigh, I held it to his throat. They really would be happier if I brought him back alive.

That moment thinking cost me everything. He brought one of his arms up and slammed it into the side of my head. I tumbled off of him, my knife leaving a small slice at his throat, but nothing life threatening. He jumped to his feet, grabbing my first knife off of the floor.

I jumped to my feet as well, my head throbbing from the hit. Sirens brought both of our attention. I turned towards the window that looked out over the street. To my right The Soldier did the same.

He turned after a minute and bolted for the door of the apartment. I spun on my heel and followed. He crashed into the door, nearly throwing it off its hinges. I followed him into the stairwell were I could hear heavily armed people climbing up from the first level.

We quickly climbed the stairs, both too focused on escape to do much in the way of attacking the other. We burst out onto the rooftop of the apartment building. The Winter Soldier kept running, running towards the edge of the rooftop.

He jumped, landing on the rooftop of the building next to this one. I followed quickly. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop across the city as I followed, flying above him. He was extremely fast, which shouldn't have surprised me. Behind us, I heard the armed men burst out onto the rooftop only to find we were already gone.

A figure dropped from another rooftop. He and The Soldier were just a rooftop ahead. For a moment I thought I could take them both on, but then another figure landed, and another. I couldn't take them all on.

My wings tilted as I changed course. I soared away, returning to the base. I knew what awaited me for a mission failure. But The Winter Soldier was as good as dead in their hands, or so I thought.

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3rd person P.O.V.

Captain America landed on the rooftop. The former Winter Soldier slid to a stop. He looked at the Captain, something nearing recognition flashing through his eyes. A burst of memories flashed through his mind. A robotic red suit landed beside the Captain, Iron Man. Falcon landed on his other side.

The Captain glanced at the two. They were a last resort, in case Bucky didn't remember him and tried to run again. They weren't supposed to hurt him, but Bucky didn't know that, and they obviously set Bucky on edge. The Captain gestured at them. Falcon took a step back but Iron Man stubbornly remained in his position.

"Bucky, do you remember me?" Captain America asked quietly.

He pulled his mask off his head, revealing more of his face. Steve watched Bucky's face for any flash of recognition. The moment of silence stretched out, spanning the rooftop gap between them. Steve found himself holding his breath.

The emptiness in his friends eyes hurt him beyond belief. He remembered the flirtatious man from the 40's. Somewhere in his heart he knew Bucky would never be that man again, but he could still be his friend.

After a long moment Bucky nodded shakily. "Steve,"

Steve moved forward, embracing his friend. He stepped back after a long hug to study his friend. Bucky looked tense and a bit startled, like he hadn't expected a kind greeting. The reaction sent a sharp pain through Steve's heart but he pushed it away. He had his friend back.

"We'll bring you back to the tower, you'll have to meet the team." Steve said. "We took a quinjet here, it's a little ways out."

The small group returned to the quinjet with Bucky and boarded it. The pilot took off and they began flying back to Manhattan and the rest of The Avengers.

———

3rd Person P.O.V.

Steve and Bucky were the last two off of the quinjet. They stepped out onto the landing pad of the tower. Steve guided Bucky into the tower.

"You'll get your own room in the tower. J.A.R.V.I.S. can guide you there. Then you can meet the rest of the team." Steve said, smiling kindly at Bucky.

He nodded at Steve and then looked around. "Who's J.A.R.V.I.S.?"

Steve chuckled, "He's the tower AI. Hey J.A.R.V.I.S."

"Yes Captain Rodgers?" The robotic voice answered from the ceiling.

"Please guide Bucky to his room," Steve said and then smiled at Bucky before walking away.

J.A.R.V.I.S began giving Bucky directions to his new room in the tower. He looked around for a moment, trying to find the origin of the voice before just sighing and following the directions.

His hand rested on the cool metal door handle. He finally opened the door and stepped into the room. It was pleasantly bare. It didn't bring back a rush of memories, which was both comforting and disappointing.

He knew he could've used the memories, especially if they were of his friends. But at the same time, he didn't want anymore horrible memories. He didn't want to relive the things done to him, but he absolutely dreaded reliving the things he did to others. He cautiously sat down on the bed at the center of the room.

He breathed deeply and let it out, trying to calm himself before standing up. He knew Steve would want him to meet the team. He stepped back out of his new room and into the hallway.

Just as he realized he didn't know where the team was.

As if it knew what Bucky was thinking J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke up. "Sergeant Barnes, the team is waiting for you in the living room." he said and then began to give Bucky directions.

"He's a hundred year old assassin! We can't just act like that's nothing, he's you guys responsibility." Tony Stark's voice could be heard loudly.

Bucky stood outside the doorway to the living room. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore his racing heart. He let the breath out and stepped into the living room.