Now Bucky was jumpy. He'd been afraid that line of questioning would lead down this path. He took a steady breath and lifted his gaze to meet Daryl's. This wasn't going to be fun for either of them.
"I don't know." The answer was honest. "I was a sniper in the war. But..." Barnes shifted, subconsciously moving a bit further away from Daryl, as if he wanted to run. He'd become very good at running from his problems lately. First HYDRA, then Steve, now... "I was captured by the enemy." He flexed the metal hand, pulling the arm close to his chest. "I was erased and turned into a weapon. Since then, I couldn't tell you how many people I've killed for them. Periodically, I was erased over and over again to keep me blank. Controllable."
He edged backwards, foot hitting one of the dislodged panels. The scraping sound made him flinch, sharp to his enhanced hearing. "I'm not--they don't control me anymore. I'm not their assassin. I'm James Buchanan Barnes, Sergeant of the 107th Infantry. I was born March 10th in Brooklyn. 3-2-5-5-7-0-3-8. 3-2-5-5-7-0-3-8. 3-2-..." He breathed in sharply, closed his eyes, and focused on calming down.
"S-sorry... I'm sorry..." There might be a bit of PTSD there, Daryl.
no subject
"I don't know." The answer was honest. "I was a sniper in the war. But..." Barnes shifted, subconsciously moving a bit further away from Daryl, as if he wanted to run. He'd become very good at running from his problems lately. First HYDRA, then Steve, now... "I was captured by the enemy." He flexed the metal hand, pulling the arm close to his chest. "I was erased and turned into a weapon. Since then, I couldn't tell you how many people I've killed for them. Periodically, I was erased over and over again to keep me blank. Controllable."
He edged backwards, foot hitting one of the dislodged panels. The scraping sound made him flinch, sharp to his enhanced hearing. "I'm not--they don't control me anymore. I'm not their assassin. I'm James Buchanan Barnes, Sergeant of the 107th Infantry. I was born March 10th in Brooklyn. 3-2-5-5-7-0-3-8. 3-2-5-5-7-0-3-8. 3-2-..." He breathed in sharply, closed his eyes, and focused on calming down.
"S-sorry... I'm sorry..." There might be a bit of PTSD there, Daryl.