The chaos outside reached a fever pitch. The ground shook beneath me as more Chitauri soldiers poured into the streets, their alien ships whizzing overhead, firing indiscriminately. The Avengers were barely holding on, but they were fighting with everything they had. Steve Rogers—Captain America—was at the heart of it all, his shield raised, his eyes filled with that same determination I'd always admired.
But in the middle of his fight, I saw it. A Chitauri soldier was sneaking up behind him, ready to strike, its weapon raised high. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't let that happen. Not again. Not with everything at stake.
Without thinking, I drew my pistol and aimed through the window, steadying my breath as I took the shot. The bullet tore through the air, finding its mark in the Chitauri soldier's skull. The creature collapsed, crumpling to the ground with a sickening thud. The moment it fell, Steve turned, his shield ready to deflect any incoming attacks, but when he saw where the shot had come from, he hesitated for only a fraction of a second.
His eyes scanned the street, searching for the source. I didn't wait for him to see me. I didn't need to be seen. I needed to stay in the shadows for now.
I bolted out of the motel, sprinting down the alleyway, staying low and out of sight. My instincts guided me, leading me closer to the battlefield. I was ready for this—ready to face what was out there. There was no turning back.
As I emerged from the shadows and into the fray, I caught sight of Steve again, his shield blocking blows left and right. But he didn't look like the Captain America I remembered. His movements were slower, wearier. This fight had taken its toll. I could feel the urgency in the air—the Chitauri were relentless, and the Avengers were stretched thin.
Before I could get closer, another Chitauri soldier lunged at Steve. The strike was swift, but Steve deflected it with his shield. But there was no time to recover as another soldier raised its weapon, preparing to deal the final blow. I couldn't let it happen.
I ran, moving faster than I thought possible, my feet pounding against the pavement. I reached them just in time. As the Chitauri soldier lunged, I was already there—slamming into it with a powerful shoulder check, knocking it off balance. Without a second thought, I drew my knife, slashing across its throat. The Chitauri gurgled, dropping to the ground in a heap.
Steve turned, his eyes narrowing as he spotted me. "Bucky?" His voice was strained, filled with a mix of confusion and surprise. "Is that really you?"
I didn't have time for his questions. The battle wasn't stopping. I could see more Chitauri closing in, and they weren't going to wait for us to catch up.
"There's no time for that," I said, my voice cold but resolute. I didn't have the luxury of a reunion. I was here to survive, to fight. To keep both of us alive. "We've got work to do."
I didn't wait for him to respond. I was already moving again, my body in sync with the chaos around me. I leapt into action, my knife slashing through another Chitauri soldier, blood spilling onto the street as it crumpled to the ground.
Steve's voice came from behind me, and I knew he was following. "Fine. But we're talking later," he said, determination burning in his eyes.
I didn't need to look at him to know he was ready. We both had our roles to play in this fight. We were both soldiers. We didn't need answers. Not now.
The battle raged around us as the Chitauri pressed forward, but we held our ground. I could hear Steve shouting commands to the other Avengers, coordinating their moves, keeping them in sync. But as I fought, I could see how drained they were. The numbers were against them. And every second counted.
I slashed my knife through another Chitauri soldier, feeling the blade sink deep into its body, and twisted to face the next one. They just kept coming. More of them, everywhere. It was like an endless tide.
But I wasn't going to stop. I couldn't. Hydra had made this mess. They had to know this was coming. It was all part of their plan. And while the Avengers fought their battle, I was going to make sure the ground was cleared for them to win.
A flash of movement caught my eye, and I turned just in time to see another Chitauri soldier springing toward Steve, its weapon raised. Without hesitation, I lunged, knocking the creature off course. My fist connected with its jaw, and I heard the satisfying crunch as it crumpled. Steve didn't hesitate—he followed through with a clean strike of his shield, sending the soldier flying.
"Thanks," he said, breathless but focused.
I didn't respond. There was no need to. We were in the middle of a war. Words didn't matter. Action did.
The next few minutes were a blur—my knife moving in and out, my fists meeting alien flesh, the sharp crack of my gun firing. The battlefield became a symphony of chaos, but somehow, we kept pushing back. We kept fighting.
In that moment, I didn't think about Hydra, or the past. I didn't think about my missing memories or my identity. There was only the fight. There was only surviving long enough to make sure we all made it out of this.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but think—maybe, just maybe, I wasn't alone in this fight anymore. Maybe Steve was the one person who could help me navigate the chaos.
But there was no time for answers. Not yet.
Not when the Chitauri were still out there, and Hydra was still lurking in the shadows, waiting for their moment.
We just had to survive long enough to see the end. And that was all that mattered.