Author's Note:

If you're wondering what's up with the writing style and grammar suddenly, there's an explanation at the end of this part. There's a good reason for this madness, I swear.

.

I'm always trying to improve my ability to pull a person into a character's headspace or feel their emotions, and your feedback will help me know if what I'm trying for is working or not. Even an emoticon or button smashing tells me something useful and can influence what I write more or less of.

I respond to all comments and it's always fun to hear your thoughts ^^

.

.

. ** .

.

22 bodies. 9 children. 6 women. 5 men. 2 dogs.

More than the usual.

Playground to the west. Food truck to the east. Fountain 7.53 meters in front of the bench I occupied.

Out in the open.

The trees' shadows didn't hide me.

Nervously, I pulled down my cap. I was too exposed. There were too many eyes. Needed to cover more of my face. Praying that nobody would recognize me.

So far, none have... yet.

That target still hadn't shown up here. It's been a week. The information said that she'd be here eventually. That she frequented the park. No one matched the picture in the file. Not even remotely.

Being still stuck in D.C... it wasn't pleasant. Every siren had my nerves on fire with dread.

Were they coming for me?

23 bodies.

A woman.

Not the one I was waiting for. One of the regulars of the park. She only did one thing, and one thing only. And she was already making a beeline for the food truck. Passing in front of me, she sent me the usual happy grin.

It unsettled my nerves.

What if she recognized me? What if she called the authorities?

Then I would lose my chance at the target. I'd have to leave D.C.

This time, she broke from routine.

Freezing midstep. Eyes staring right at me. Her head cocking to the side. Curiosity spilling from those pale gray eyes.

My muscle twitched. Ready to run.

Run fast. Run far.

"Somebody's hungry," she laughed, practically grinning from ear to ear. "I could hear your stomach from over here. You should try one of the sandwiches from the truck. The pulled pork is amazing.... I can't stop eating it."

That was why she came here every other day. Eating the same sandwich every single time.

I stayed on the bench.

She'd turn away. Give up. Continue on her routine.

Except she didn't.

She expectantly waited. Likely waiting for me to get up.

I didn't.

It was so jarring to be spoken to in such a manner. Friendly. Still so foreign to me. Though this was the first one to have no tension in her shoulders. Unfazed by my appearance.

"Menacing," one of the others who had interacted with me had tried to joke.

The librarian. The one whose muscles coiled every so often. Looking about ready to react to anything I did. Even when she was teaching me about computers.

There was also the man. The one who suggested the shelter and library. He was always on guard.

"Come on." Her voice was light, uncommanding and brimming with laughter. As if she didn't have a care in the world.

"I don't have the funds," I muttered.

I wanted to sink into the bench. I wanted to blend with the shadows. I wanted to disappear from her attention.

"Oh." Her face dropped for a fraction of a second before the grin was beaming again. Her shoulders shrugged. "My treat then."

Before I could refuse, she was already halfway to the food truck.

A small bounce in her step. A sway to her hips. A ponytail swinging wildly from side to side.

Nothing efficient in her movements.

I wanted to run. But the target could come today.

My head pounded. I couldn't decide what to do. Decisions were difficult. This one was too much. There was some autonomy with missions. But they were mostly planned out for me. Information gathered for me.

This was all new to me.

"Here you go." Her hand held out a wonderful smelling bundle wrapped in paper. Another one tucked by her chest.

The grin on her face grew when I carefully took the food from her with my right hand. The flesh hand. Couldn't risk her accidentally spotting the metal one.

"Enjoy."

I nodded. A gesture that escaped me. I couldn't understand why I did it.

She smiled in return. With a spin on a heel, her back was to me. Unguarded.

Close enough to reach up....

Snap the neck. Target incapacitated.

No one around could stop me. No one was looking.

Dead before she'd even realize it.

Far too easy to toss her body into the bushes behind me. One movement and nobody would be the wiser.

A quick and simple kill.

I hated where my mind automatically went. Death and destruction.

How many ways was there to kill a person. How fast it could be done. How easy it would be.

As her sandals slapped on the pavement, she made her way to the fountain. Her usual seat. Where she ate the sandwich like it was the best thing she's had.

This time though, those gray eyes locked with mine. Her head tilted with a grin. Then everything fell back into routine. She tore into the sandwich.

I looked down at the one in my hand. It smelled so good. Gingerly removing the metal hand from its pocket, I carefully peeled back the paper.

Pain shot up from my left shoulder. Random shocks. Damage left from the battle almost a month ago. It took a toll. I couldn't get it fixed.

Not without going back to them.

Forcing my brain to get the metal hand back into its pocket, I hoped that it would conceal the involuntary movements. To hide the pain I felt.

The young woman across the way was still staring. Her brow furrowing in question. Jaw chewing the food in her stuffed cheek.

I shook my head. Trying to shake out the pain.

Tentatively, I took my first bite of the sandwich. An explosion of flavor. It was so strong. It was nothing like the mush I've been eating.

There were different textures. Soft bread. Tender meat. Crunchy vegetables.

It was amazing.

It did wonders for the grumbling pit in my gut.

.

. ** .

.

"Another sandwich?" the young woman was back.

Almost like clockwork, though the time she came was always random. But she was here every other day, as usual.

I didn't respond. I shouldn't grow to rely on her.

"A different kind? I haven't tried the others. Got hooked on the first one."

Her head cocked to the side in question as she spoke. The feigned thoughtful pout broke into a carefree grin. A shoulder rose to almost meet her ear in a half shrug.

"Sure." It slipped out of my lips before I could stop it.

She nodded. Her hand came up to shield her eyes from the sun. They squinted just the slightest.

"Beef or... fish? Does that say fish? I think it says fish ta...co?" she questioned, reading off the menu.

I shrugged, glaring at her feet. Those toes wiggling as she rocked onto the back of her heels. I dare not look up.

"'Kay." She bounded over to the food truck.

A neon yellow disc flew from the east entrance towards the playground.

'What's that?'

It was spinning. Even hovered before rounding back.

It held so much of my fascination as to what it could be that I missed the large two colored dog dashing down the wide path. Not until it was in the air with a great leap.

It caught the disc in its mouth. Snatching it right out of the air. With its tail wagging, the dog excitedly trotted back to a man.

That was when my eyes fell on the young woman's frown. Furiously pacing the length of the truck. Her hands wrapped around a slim rectangular object that glowed on one side.

Something everybody seemed to be constantly interacting with. More than they did with anything else. More than other humans. Even in the shattered bits of my memory, the handlers used them.

Her shoulders drooped with a heavy sigh. Her hand shoved the device into a pocket with unnecessary force. Her fingers ran through the long dark locks. Color reminiscent of a deep pool of blood.

Those gray eyes darted up from the device and found mine. A smile graced her face once more. Her emotions changed so freely. Even giving a laugh going by her shoulder movements.

It wasn't long before she was walking over. Two sandwiches in hand. This time, she plopped down on the other end of the bench. To my right. Holding out the sandwich. "I got beef for you. Turns out the fish was really a taco...."

She seemed proud of the fact she could read it. Did normal people not have such clarity with their sight? My senses had likely been enhanced over the years. Or did she have an eye problem?

I hated how my brain automatically picked apart the morsel of information. It could come in use in the future.

I gave a small nod, taking the paper-wrapped bundle.

"I'm Valeriy."

A name. Her name.

The last name given to me via voice was my own.

Told to me by... St... St... the man in the exhibit.... The man from the Helicarrier.... The man... the man on the bridge...?

"You?"

I shrugged. I had no idea how to answer that.

They called me the Asset. The Winter Soldier. A weapon.

The exhibit called me Bucky. Best friend. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. A... a hero.

I didn't want to be the former and I had long lost the latter. I didn't know who I was, so I just dug into the sandwich.

Again, it was something different and the opposite of bland. This burned my tongue less than the other one. The meat was chewier. The vegetables cut differently. And something yellow. Yellow and gooey.

"Okay," she said with a shrug.

She didn't seem too put off by my lack of a response. She started her meal, enjoying it fully. If her expression was anything to go by.

The silence between was only broken by the rustling of the wrappers.

This was... pleasant.

To share a meal and not be alone. To talk to someone. To not be ordered around.

I finished my sandwich before she finished half of hers.

After some time, the young woman muffled a laugh. The back of her hand covering her mouth. Her eyes trained on an uncoordinated pup rolling on the dirt pathway. When she turned them onto me, I could see the mirth dancing in them.

I quickly looked away. Glaring at the dirt. I couldn't risk being recognized. Pulling the bill of the cap down to hide. To feel safer. Wishing I could sink back into the shadows of the leaves.

"Hmm?" she hummed. Her chewing pace sped up. After a few more seconds and a swallow: "What is it?" Gentle. Light. Neutral.

I could still feel her eyes on me. I couldn't help but shrink away. Hide under the hat. Hide under the collar.

"Just ask. If you want another sandwich. Sure." Her elbow lifted a little from the corner of my eye. Likely another one of her shrugs. "If you're going to ask about my sixth toe... I may not answer."

Immediately, my focus was on her feet.

The left. Five toes.

The right. Five toes.

All ten gave a playful wiggle. I looked up at her face that twitched a couple of times.

Bell-like laughter broke through the air. The young woman doubled over in giggles. Going as far as tears escaping her eyes. She struggled with a gasp. "Oh my go –! Hahahaha! I can't – I can't b-bre-breathe – Hahaha!!"

The half sandwich in her hand plopped onto the ground.

"Awww... Fuck.... Oh shit! No no no no no! Stop! Drop it! Spit it out! Damn it! I don't think you're supposed to eat – Fuuuuuu – ish...?"

As the disc catching dog ran off with her lunch, she waved nervously. Towards the playground at the various adults glaring her way.

She plopped down back on the bench. Her arms and legs crossed. One glance my way and a chuckle later, she was back to an uncontrolled bout of laughter.

When she finally calmed down with a sigh, I spoke up. "Your sandwich.... Sorry."

"Oh no no no." She waved her hand dismissively. "The expression on your face was completely worth it." The young woman lolled her head to the side, facing me. Grinning ear to ear. "So, what is it?"

"Why the food?" The words escaped right out of me.

I tore my eyes away from the friendly expression. Focused on the rest of the park.

The target still hadn't shown up.

"Hunger's no fun," she replied lightly with a grin after she swallowed.

"But why?"

Nerves lit. I spoke out of turn. I wasn't told to speak.

I watched her. Ready of punishment.

But her shoulders merely shrugged. She thought for a moment. Then a soft grin pulled at her lips. It was different. I couldn't figure out why, but it was different. Less bright, but... warming.

"I don't want anything in return. Don't worry about that.... Somebody... somebody did the same for me years ago. He helped me out more often than not and didn't want a thing from me. I learned a lot from him....

"So fuck being all judgey. Fuck the image. If someone's hungry in front of me, then I can damn well buy food. Just doing what I feel like. Nothing to it."

But it wasn't nothing. At least to me.

This was a shred of hope.

That I might be more than a weapon. That I might be... that I might be a... person.

"So..." she started, "what brings you to this park? I see you sitting here every time I come."

I tensed.

Did that mean she started coming around here at the same time I did? Had she slipped up? Was she here for me?

'Are you one of them...?'

Muscles coiled ready to fight my way out of this. Eyes darted to every face. Every movement in the park. To the cars driving by.

All the while, the warmth turned to ice in my veins.

"Well, except the first few times? I don't recall you sitting here."

I relaxed slightly.

She couldn't have known I'd be here. Not before I knew. Not before I found the information. The target.

"Waiting," I finally replied.

The target had yet to show her face. The information said that it was rare. But that she would show up here... eventually.

The young woman nodded. Grinning at the uncoordinated pup running after a butterfly. Another silence washed over us. Her toes wiggling against her sandals. With a soft sigh, she stood up. A gentle smile on her face. "I guess I'll probably see you in a couple of days?"

I shrugged. It all depended on the target. She could show tomorrow. Or tonight. Hopefully soon.

"See you around, Stranger." With that, she walked away. Barely dodging a horde of racing children.

.

. ** .

.

Author's Note:

So this is technically the "first chapter." (Well, the first part of it. Wattpad's buggy system can't handle longer parts so my chapters are split into parts in hopes to avoid the deleting bug.... I guess this is why they call hem "parts.")

The Prologue's mainly there to show that I do have grammar skills since Bucky's chapters are so choppy and broken. My way of showing how broken his mind is, being that this chapter is written in his point of view. To show his fragmented mind via fragmented sentences. The way the sentences are broken up is a wordless way to let you know how his state of mind is doing at that particular moment, as well as unsettling the grammar loving side of us to mirror how unsettled he is with himself.

He'll get better. He'll get better someday.

Chapter titles will contain the name of whose point of view it's written in. 

.

P.S. - As for the unit of measurement Bucky used at the beginning of the chapter being meters, it's because, I think, Russia uses it, at least according to Google. (Please correct me if I'm wrong about this.)

And if any Canadian speeling leaks through in Bucky's chapters, sorry. He's supposed to have American spelling. I don't think Hydra would brother messing with spelling....

.

If you enjoyed this part, please consider leaving a vote. They're very much appreciated. ^^