Light in the Shadows

All characters belong to Marvel Comics

I own nothing.

His disobedient heart thuds to a stop and falls three levels from his chest; his torn soul becomes pieces of butchered emotions as he stares down at the trails of blood staining over the cement. He feels trapped in a division of choice and abandonment, everything around him turns into a crimson haze.

-Mission report-

The Soldier races down the alley, his heavy combat boots sloshing through clusters of puddles-he disobeys the commands engulfing his mind and he allows every thought of Hydra to fall into a void as he exhales heavy pants of breath, his chest begins to constrict, bruised rib cage throbs and heart becomes speared with the pain as he advances to a darkened area of familiar sanctuary.

He vaguely remembers the detail of brownstone and the cold stench of rust from heating the contortion of heating pipes hanging near a window. He vaults up; lifting his heavy combat boots off the slick ground and grips the fire escape latter with firm ease of his metal hand.

Clenching his jaw, he pushes himself up, straining the muscles of his abdomen and broken arm, the humid breeze flows through his tousled, dark chin-length hair, whipping the drenched strands against his chiseled, ashen cheekbones and jaw line. He felt the blood streak out from his split lip, creating a macabre brush stroke of sticky maroon over his broad chin and down his Adam's apple.

-Mission report-

He scales the fire escape quickly with feline grace, his metal fingers clutch over the rusted steel, he heaves out a deep breath, baring his teeth against the tantalizing pain surging through his slender frame. He grunts in anguish, lifting his tenebrous steel-azure eyes as tiny squares of light from the hazy moon become captives in his darkened gaze. He hoists all of his body weight up and smacks his boots on a cement perch-a vantage point.

He crouches down on the edge, positioning his shoulder blades into a striking stance, his feral eyes lock on a shattered window and he focuses his sharpen vision on the smudges of blood encasing over the jaded pieces.

"Mission was unsuccessful." he growls under his breath in a firm, unnatural voice to his ears, he lifts up the window pane carefully above his head and slips inside the darkness. With a forceful grunt, he rolls on the floorboards and removes his gerber yari ii tanto knife, his fingers curl over the handle as he straightens to his boots, with systematic strides, and he stalks over to a corner.

Glass crunches under his weight, the Soldier pulls over his sweater's hood, concealing his youthful and hawkish features and his eyes glint in the darkness as he trains his gaze on a limp figure sprawled inches from his elusive, menacing presence.

"Target survived." he whispers with a soft cadence in his baritone.

He bends his stiff knees, balancing steady on the reinforced soles of his heavy boots as his body veils. He narrows his eyes and stares intently on the battered face of Captain America, the blue helmet cracked with the leather strap barely hanging off the man's strong jaw line...

"I failed my mission-I spared his life." the Solider expels out a defeated breath, he listens to the conviction and hardened remorse scrape against the walls of his raw throat. He settles his flaming blue embers on the tattered spangled uniform and reaches out his shaky hand; he touches the helmet and gently eases it off the face. "Why did I fail to kill you?" he questions, he searches for a logic truth in the encroaching darkness cloaking over his injured frame.

"What do you mean to me?" he grits, air cutting against his lungs. He brushes his metal digits through Steve's ruffled and sweat drenched, blonde hair, he leans in closer-his blue chasms peer at the closed eyelids shut, concealing the dazzling and stern cobalt irises beneath and his smooth full lips swollen with a large smudge of dry blood on the corner and smeared to his sharp cheekbone. He reeks of exhaustion, and his mid-section engraved with deep bullet wounds and bruised muscle.

"I sorry-I did this to you." The Soldier's distressed voice cuts through the dense air. He gazes down at Steve with a dismal gleam masking over his daunting blue eyes. "I want to know if what you called me is my real name?" he lets out a broken exhale. "Do you know who I am?"

He burns his gaze at the blade clutched in his hand, he unleashes a carnal growl and drops the knife to the floor. "Do we know each other-Капитан Америка?"

Steve slowly rouses from his unconscious state, his eyelashes flutter as he peels open his eyes and stares up at the familiar, disquieted face hovering above him like looming wraith. He lifts his glove hand and firmly grips the Soldier's shoulder, feeling the metal plates under the material of the sweater.

"I know you never meant to hurt me," he breathes out, voice is hoarse. "They made you it -they made you believe that you didn't exist." he swallows and meets the azure orbs hidden underneath tresses of straggly long hair. "I know the truth-you have always been my friend."

Biting on his bottom lip, the Solider wrenches away. He shakes his head with solemn motion. "I want to remember who I am," he reveals quietly, almost fearfully. "I want to know the truth." He continues to stare at Steve, before trailing his disbelieving eyes on the blood stained uniform. "I don't know if it's a lie?" his voice cracks in a low, distant monotone.

Steve shakes his head, "It's not a lie." he grits, tasting the coppery tang trickle down his raw throat. "Everything Hydra said to you-that was a lie." he said, looking up at the displaced wraith who was his friend, the empty vessel of ice wanting to recover his existence, to restore his soul and finally live out of the darkness.

The Soldier lifts his head back up; his crystal blue eyes mirror Steve's trusting and familiar gaze. "Even though I don't remember you-I feel safe when I'm with you." he recoiled back, straightening up to his boots and extended out a hand. "I don't what it means but I think something that friend's do..." his voice drifted as he lightly chews on his lip and looks resentfully down at the puddles of blood. "I want to help you, Фрейнд...Friend."

Steve feels a layer of tears prick his eyes; he winces as the pain in his chest feels like hammer pounding on his ribs. He extends out his and he clasps it tight over the Soldier's metal hand, and squeezes as a gesture of assurance and trust. "I guess I'm no longer your mission?" he breaks his swollen lips into a light, misty smile.

"You're still my, mиссия." the Soldier replies, his voice gruff and hesitant as he coils his fingers over Steve's knuckles, hoisting the super-solider up and off the floor. Steve's chest collides against his as he reacts to warmth invading through his ice encased bones. "I'm not going to kill you-I'm going to экономить...I'm going to save you."

Steve's face falls and he looks at the Soldier with a crestfallen, heart wrenching, his blue eyes fill with tear that he fights to conceal. And he swallows a thick lump of pain as his fragile emotions threaten to betray his commanding, stern exterior.

"I'm the one who is supposed to save you," he feels a smudge of guilt seep over his heart. And sadness drowns over him.

"I'm not a person to save." the Soldier replies with conviction in his voice, clenching his jaw.

Steve grasps the dark hood and pulls it off and stares at the ghostly illusion of his friend for a long moment, and there he was the real, suave Bucky Barnes, trapped in the shafts of Hydra's malice and darkness-handsome, brave and defiant.

His eyes embers of blue steel, his lips soft with the arch of his Cupid's bow breaking the grim frown and his broad and chiseled features full of rich youthful. His dark, thick hair parted and groomed off his forehead. He looks angelic as he curves the edges of his full lips into a big radiant smile.

"I thought I lost you, Buck." Steve releases his tears, and keeps on staring beyond the harden layers of the Winter Soldier. "I thought you were dead."

The Soldier blanches away, his blue eyes gleaming with disdain. "No, I'm not him." he mutters out, his voice damaged. "I'm not Bucky-Stop calling me by that name." he cries, small tears gather in his haunted eyes, he staggers backwards from Steve. His heart slams against his rib cage, he crashes into a chair and doubles over to his knees and he pulls over his hood, covering his glistening eyes.

He pants out heavy, his feels himself suffocating as the darkness tries to consume him, swallowing him back into the void of emptiness and the onslaught of tears blinds his vision as he shakes his head. "I'm nobody to save."

Steve trudges closer, his strides are slow and his legs are weak. He eases himself down and kneels in front of his friend; he reaches his head and pulls off the hood once more, "You never have to hide from me, Buck. You're my friend."

The Solider gazes up at him with teary blue eyes at Steve, his hand moves closer and metallic fingers grip the other man's shoulder. "I want to remember you-I know your face but it's too hard to remember your name."

Steve clamps his eyelids shut, "It's alright," he manages to say in a serene voice against the tears rolling down the chiseled lines of his pale and battered cheeks."You will one day, pal."

The Soldier smiles for the first time, he slowly moves his metal hand up and wraps it over Steve's upper back and sinks into a secure embrace. He closes his watery eyes and feels himself slowing being awaken by the soothing warmth of a friend—-a visage of hope against the darkness.