"Love is the only thing capable of turning an enemy into a friend."

-Martin Luther King Jr.

She wasn't dead.

She couldn't be.

She was thinking.

She was aware.

Forcing her eyes open, Ophelia saw a blur of blackness and dark blue combined. Taking a moment to let her eyes adjust and adapt, the blur took shape; Steve and Bucky were still fighting.

Blood pooled around her, and she gasped as she lifted her head off of the ground to watch the fight happening around her. Below her she could see the water that was underneath them; the carrier had lifted quite high in the air now. She was able to get onto her hands and knees despite the pounding in her head and the sharp bouts of pain everywhere else. The blood, she discovered, was her own.

Her eyes focused on Bucky as Steve grabbed his arm and pulled it backwards at a hyperextended position. She could see his muscles straining against the flesh surrounding them, but she could only imagine the pain.

"Drop it!" Steve shouted, demanding Bucky to release the chip that was in his grasp.

When he gripped it tighter, Steve wasted no time and popped his shoulder out of the socket. Steve was running out of time, and running out of options. Bucky's scream caused Ophelia to wince, she just wanted all of this to be over. She knew they would face something like this when she agreed to help, though, she never imagined it would be this difficult. She knew that this man in front of her was not Bucky, and might very well never be Bucky ever again; that made it harder to watch.

Even after having his arm popped out of the socket, that sound having been heard by Ophelia a few feet away, Bucky still held onto the chip. So Steve flipped him onto his back and wrapped his arms around his neck to choke him into unconsciousness. Ophelia felt the tears mix with the blood that pooled from her left temple; surprisingly it was only a minor head wound, likely a concussion, but she was alive.

Steve's leg wrapped around Bucky's metal arm, holding it down so that he could finish what he started. Ophelia could hardly bear to watch as Steve strangled Bucky, telling herself over and over that this was not Bucky in front of her. Steve wasn't planning on killing him today if he didn't have to, and was avoiding that possibility at all costs.

When his body went limp, Steve grabbed the chip and ran for the control panel. Ophelia dragged herself along the glass, glad that it was slick with her blood as it made it easier to bring herself towards Bucky. The risk she was taking by getting closer to him could mean her life, but she needed to see his face once again. Rolling him over took all of her remaining strength, and though she managed, she was wheezing at the end of it, coughing up blood onto his black shirt. Gaining control of her weakened body, the searing pain blinding her again for a moment, Ophelia looked upon Bucky's face.

He had the appearance of serenity for the first time ever.

He looked so peaceful.

She brushed a strand of his brown hair out of his face; the scruff on his cheeks tickled her bloodied wrist. As she pulled herself over him slightly, in almost a protective manner, she wanted to press her lips to his as she had in the snow. Of course he would be non-responsive, she knew that he would not wake like in some fairy tale. He would not remember who she was, and he would not have a change of heart like she had so desperately hoped.

In all her past experiences with Bucky, she had never endured such chaos. It used to be too easy to find Bucky, and that was why she was continually making mistakes that got herself abused to the point of nothingness. Instead of kissing him, she drew back; her tears fell upon his cheeks, sliding down and making it look as if he were crying. The Winter Soldier didn't feel emotion like that, at least she didn't believe that.

"Bucky," she whispered, as if he could hear her. "Show me you are still in there."

His eyes darted open and for half a second she thought he might have heard her, that she got through to Bucky beneath the Winter Soldier. The combination of pain and desperate hope might jostle his mind into remembering. His blue eyes focused in on her, and she smiled gently. When his hand shoved her away from him, she cried out in pain, rolling over onto her back and shaking.

Bucky stood up, looking down at her, studying her. He shifted quickly to a kneel and pulled the pistol from her holster; he did so without a care about her pain, grazing his hand over her right hip where the wound was and causing it to light up with pain neurons. He held the gun over her. As his finger ghosted over the trigger, he parted his lips as if to say something. As he hesitated, Ophelia brought her gaze to his, staring deep into his blue eyes that once showed her the meaning of humanity.

"Just do it," she said, tears still siding down her cheeks.

"Who are you?" he asked, a flicker of faint and distant recognition in his eyes.

Before she could answer, a noise came from above and Bucky was lightning fast, shooting up at Steve. Steve had been climbing when Bucky shot him, and he disappeared from sight as he rolled onto the walkway. He was so close. Ophelia was on her back and stared at the scene unravelling above her. Bucky was still trying to kill Steve, even with his arm limp at his side he didn't give up; that was what he was made for. He was still the perfect soldier. When he fired his next shot, Ophelia knew that he had gotten Steve; the satisfied smirk on his face gave it away.

Seconds seemed to drag by like a river of molasses, and Bucky began to remember that there was someone else to deal with. He turned his head and looked at Ophelia, an animalistic feeling about his movements; they seemed so effortless and flawless, and yet disjointed. He lifted the pistol towards her and didn't hesitate this time to pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He was out of bullets.

Ophelia wasn't sure if this was good or not; he had more strength than she did, and he could kill her without a gun. That was a far worse way to die than bullet to the head. More likely than not, she would have died instantly. Being strangled with the face of someone you love looking down at you, that sounded like the worst way possible to go. She didn't know how to brace herself for that, and simply continued to stare; only a few seconds had gone by since he pulled the trigger, but it felt like hours.

"Charlie lock," Steve said at last over the ear pieces.

"You failed," she said to Bucky, though her voice was nothing more than a dull croak.

He didn't seem impressed by her words, and he threw the gun to the ground and took a stride towards her. Ophelia's advantage came when she felt the blast hit the carrier, and a large portion of the ship began to fall down upon her. She wanted to warn Bucky, but it was his life or hers. She wanted to live; she could do good in the world. She rolled out of the way just in time, and the beam landed right on Bucky, pinning him to the bottom of the sphere. He glanced dangerously at Ophelia, but he could not hurt her.

Steve dropped down from the control panel as the ship continued to fall apart. Half of the glass was smashed, and below them was the water. She could jump, she would survive that fall no doubt, but she knew that she did not have it in her to swim.

She rolled onto her side, watching as Steve lifted the debris from pinning down Bucky. A terrible idea, she knew, but she understood exactly why Steve did it. When Bucky was freed, Steve stared at him with a look that showed his true roots. A kid from Brooklyn who just wanted to do good in this world, staring at his best friend who was too far gone.

"I'm not gonna fight you," he told his best friend, dropping his shield through the carrier and into the water below. "You're my friend."

Bucky didn't take much time to process what had been said, and lunged at Steve, bringing him down upon the glass. Steve had been shot several times, the blood at his middle suggested that, and he did not have the strength to fight Bucky. Bucky only had a dislocated shoulder and a few other wounds, so he was in far better condition than Steve and Ophelia, even combined.

She thought about what she had accomplished in her lifetime; most of it evil and leading to so much death. Having been able to complete this one task, knowing that she had helped Steve succeed today, she had to face the fact that not all battles could be won. It was harder accepting that she would never see Bucky again than it was knowing she was going to die today.

"You're my mission," Bucky growled over top of Steve, who was no longer fighting back. Bucky had a crazed look in his determined eyes before landing several blows to Steve's face. "You're. My. Mission!"

"Then finish it," Steve said, his voice pained, "because I'm with you... to the end of the line."

Bucky raised his fist, but couldn't bring it down. Ophelia watched in sheer terror and shock as she realized that maybe he could come back from all of this; she couldn't die today, because she might be the only hope to bring him back.

There was no time to think about that, though, as a large piece of the ship came crashing down. Ophelia tried to warn them, but it was too late, the words were not able to escape her. The glass was crushed underneath Steve and Bucky, sending Steve down into the watery depth below. Bucky remained on the carrier, the glass below him remaining intact enough, and he stared down at his friend as he disappeared into the dark water.

This was her chance.

Her chance to save Bucky from The Winter Soldier.

"I'm gonna get you out of there, Bucky," she said, the words not loud enough over the crashing of the carrier.