[There's never been a good way to inform someone of his past, of how many lives he snuffed out. Screams echo in his mind, begging for mercy in a dozen languages, crying for their children, spouses, anyone. They meet various fates. In one, metal fingers curl around a windpipe and crush it. In others, the victims are gunned down without remorse, without feeling. Some are taken from a distance, through a scope, picked off like dotting an eye.
Other faces may be more familiar- Sam plucked from the sky, wings broken, and then kicked out into open air. Or beating Steve to a bloody pulp. And Sam again, though from third person as Bucky thins his profile and shoots, as metal fingers close around Sam's throat to strangle him.
In his mind's eye, he tells Steve he doesn't do that anymore, but hours later he's killing innocents in Berlin.
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Other faces may be more familiar- Sam plucked from the sky, wings broken, and then kicked out into open air. Or beating Steve to a bloody pulp. And Sam again, though from third person as Bucky thins his profile and shoots, as metal fingers close around Sam's throat to strangle him.
In his mind's eye, he tells Steve he doesn't do that anymore, but hours later he's killing innocents in Berlin.
And he lets it all flow over the link.]