He supposed that he knew that there might be a time when there wouldn't be a losing battle, when he would no longer drown and be pushed into the next mission. He thought the only way that would happen would be catastrophic failure where he lost his life, and he wasn't so certain that the failure would be unpleasant. The release might finally bring him peace because he didn't know what that felt like. However, those who kept him were always intent on keeping him alive, functional and willing to serve.

Yet he looked at her and tipped his chin up. "Even when you win, you never realize what you lost until it's gone," he murmured. A faulty memory, a path down a dark road where the killing never stopped, a loss in the faith of humanity. Why should he protect anyone when people were foul enough to do such things to each other? That was James though; the deeper and far more rooted Winter Soldier didn't care. He was a blade laid bare ready to strike at the next ordered target.

His blue eyes narrowed at her idea that she would die, but he knew that wasn't true. He would see that she didn't die. "No, you won't," he replied stiffly, turning his head aside as he considered all the steps that he would do in order to keep her alive.