"What's your name?"

"I don't know."

"C'mon I just told you, what's your name?"

"I don't know."

The blond haired man sighed, his head tipping down as disappointment flickered behind his prematurely old eyes. For some reason, seeing that look in the other man's eyes caused a pang of heartache in the assassin's chest. Of course, that feeling had to be stuffed immediately. This man was a target, or at least he had been. He was no ally.

"James." His former target said quietly. "Your name is James Buchanan Barnes...Bucky...My best friend."

"Don't say that." He said through gritted teeth. His poor abused mind was still to raw to handle information like that, and the inability to cope with it made him feel helpless and angry. Steve fell silent for a few moments before his lips parted once again to speak.

"Do you remember who I am?" He asked, more out of formality than any real hope, but the long haired assassin answered instantly.

"Steve Rodgers. Captain America." he said, the last words coming out with a mixture of contempt and begrudging respect. The other man's head snapped up, his eyes alight with a flicker of hope. It was Bucky's conditioned instinct to crush that out. "You were assigned to me." He said coldly. "I'm going to kill you." Just as he expected, the hope in his eyes died, but it left in it's wake a hollow pit in the assassin's stomach. It was a long time before Steve spoke again, and when he did the words came out as a hoarse whisper.

"I don't want Fury to keep you here." He said, the sincerity of his words all too clear. Since his capture, the Winter Soldier had been kept, orderless, brainwashed, and confused, in a jail cell under Fury's new headquarters. The single room cell, with nothing but it's sink, toilet, and narrow cot, was hardly a conducive atmosphere for unburying old memories.

"I've been speaking with Directer Fury about moving you into my custody, but Bucky, you gotta help me prove to him that this is the right thing to do. He won't let me get you out of here if you're threatening to kill me all the time." Steve pleaded earnestly, stepping closer to the bars. He hated those bars, hated that he wasn't allowed through them. He hated them for separating him from his best friend, his best friend who was now lost, hurt, and confused, his best friend who needed his help.

"Just..." He started hesitantly, "Just say your name...please..."

The Winter Soldier looked at him evenly, torn between his instincts and the buried feelings that were starting to arise. Finally, he compromised between the two. "Barnes." He murmured simply. Steve had wanted him to say his full name, possibly even the nick name he had apparently bestowed on him, but the assassin was not yet willing to give that much ground.

Steve nodded sadly, a small smile touching his lips. "Okay...I'm going to keep pushing for you Buck...I'm going to help you get better."

The assassin turned and walked away from the bar. He left Steve standing there, his expression gentle with compassion, and drawn with grief.