"You're dismissed." The asset nodded, immediately picking up his duffle bag from the floor as he took a step outside. He was in pain, after months of being out of the facility–he was finally back. Weirdly enough, this place had become his home. Despite the sterile smell, or the stench of blood lingering, it was his home. It was all he had ever known since they took him and shaped him as the one and only, Winter Soldier.

Being the Winter Soldier, Bucky remembered faces. The doctors, the technicians, and his caretaker. The only person he could tolerate was his caretaker; a man who was far too old to be taking care of him. Hell, with his enhanced physique, Bucky might as well be older than his caretaker.

All he wanted to do now was get patched up by that old man and hibernate in his small cot in the lab. Bucky quickly opened the door to the lab, expecting to see his caretaker sitting down on his usual desk, with papers scattered around.

But how wrong he was. All there was in the lab was someone unfamiliar. Again, Bucky remembered faces–and yet, he couldn't remember yours. He stood in front of door, feeling the unfamiliarity of the person in front of him, immediately pulling out a gun from his bag as he pressed it on your forehead.

"Who are you?" Bucky asked, studying you from up to down. He couldn't remember your face because he hadn't seen you before. You were young. Contrary to his old caretaker, you were too young to be here.

The asset didn't move an inch as he repeated his question. "I asked, who are you?" His voice was laced with venom, waiting for your answer.