Thread: The Asset - Avengers (Moon Struck Fox & Defiant)

Days. Weeks. How long had it been since he'd gotten away? He'd never bothered to count. Days never mattered. Missions mattered. It was what he was alive for. To accomplish missions. And he'd failed. Boy, did he fail. Not only had he actually let Steve Rogers live, he'd saved him. Pulled him from the water instead of just letting him drown. But Steve Rogers, Captain America, had filled his head with so much doubt and confusion he began to feel. He'd never felt something... emotional before. Not even doubt. He'd been sure to his purpose. Always. Until he'd been sent after Steve. And afterwards he couldn't return. Of course he couldn't return. They'd make sure to punish him for what he'd done, or failed to do. And now it was all falling apart. One had come for him. Told him it was time to return. He'd only meant to knock the man out but he knew he'd killed him. He didn't want them getting that close again. So he stayed on the move. The longer he stayed away, no guidance or whispered words, missions or direction, the more confused he became. He'd gone to the museum, the pictures and words of the Captain America exhibit had made sense. They collaborated with his memories, no matter how broken the memories were he knew he was this James Barnes. Bucky. But he didn't remember being him. Captain America had been coming after him too. But the star spangled captain had no idea Bucky wasn't two steps ahead, he was one step behind. He close. He needed answers. He needed direction. Everything was tearing at him, he couldn't focus but the good ol'Captain would help him out. He had the plan, he just needed to execute it. And he had to catch him alone. Sometimes he went running alone, when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. He would strike then but the last few mornings the other man had been there. He'd watched him, knew the route. Today he was alone. Today was the day. Bucky waited. He had the advantage, they were equally matched hand to hand and he had to make this perfect. He inhaled slowly when he heard the heavy footfalls of a runner. Running faster than the average athlete. He exhaled as he stepped around the tree and threw his arm out, the metal slamming against the solid muscle of the Captain's chest. His other hand was grabbing Steve's wrist and his leg shifted as he projected the Captain forward, face-first into the ground. He dove forward, his knees pinning the other man's arms as he lent forward, his metal arm slipping around his throat and the other hand locking the arm there. He held firm until he felt the tension and fight drain from the other before he stood, he quickly made sure Steve was still breathing before he hoisted him over his shoulder and moved quickly to the car he'd stole. He drove to the abandoned warehouse outside of the city limits, parked inside then carried the blonde to the furthest corner from the door. There was nothing there. Nothing he could use as weapon. He didn't bother to tie him up or handcuff him, they would do nothing to prevent him from escaping. He grabbed an old chair and moved it to sit in front of Steve, waiting for him to wake. He had a gun resting on his thigh, a basic 9mm but it would work if he tried to get away. He was about fifteen feet away, gun in plain sight as his blue eyes stayed on the only man who could unlock his past.