Zeitgeist

by Emily_Erasteon_107th

Summary:

Of 32 women captured by HYDRA in 1939, Lucille “Lucy” Opal Baker is chosen to become a weapon labeled “Decay '', used to aid the Wehrmacht in World War II. After she receives a serum allowing her to see and change molecules, HYDRA deems Lucy ready to fight on the frontlines.

But she refuses to kill.

After a year of captivity, Agent Elizabeth “Peggy” Carter, undercover as Nurse Elizabeth, rescues both Lucy and Dr. Erskine from Schmidt’s clutches. They travel to Camp McCoy, where Lucy strikes up a friendship with James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes while making a name for herself as an SSR agent.

When Project: Rebirth produces Captain America, HYDRA is suddenly at her heels and Lucy realizes their spotlight is not only pointed at her, but also on James Barnes.

Suddenly, Lucy is very susceptible to compromise.

Chapter 1: 0

"Humanity cannot be trusted with their own freedom.”

Bavaria, Germany

1939

LUCY AWAKES TO THE click of the first lock. Her cell is vacant and she uncurls from her position on the cold floor when the second lock clicks. She blinks the drowsiness out of her eyes as the third lock clicks. When the fourth lock clicks she’s pushing herself onto her feet, fatigued body leaning heavily against the wall. 

 

She is expected to stand to attention between the first lock and the fifth lock, regardless of injuries from the prior day. 

 

The final lock clicks and she stumbles into the center of the room, a tattered hospital gown barely clinging onto her aching body. She holds her hands in front of her, open-palmed, and when the heavy metal door is pushed open she drops her gaze. Her eyes remain glued to the ground as an unnamed scientist examines the room for stolen items. He orders her to drop her hands and she does. He steps out of the cell, and she follows wordlessly, eyes attentive. Guards surround her as she is led down the narrow hall. 

 

They always turn right, where she sees other women escorted in the same manner as herself- they are all blonde haired, blue eyed, tall. They file into two lines, eight on either side, and she finds herself at the very front. The scientists and guards escort them into a large room with twenty hospital beds. 

 

Four women have died, four beds will remain empty.

 

She walks to her designated bed, and robotically pulls herself onto the fabric. Her back presses against the frame of the bed as sixteen nurses enter the room. She watches mindlessly as a nurse inserts a needle into her forearm, connected to an IV drip with a clear substance. 

 

The nurses leave and the lights turn off. The women are submerged in darkness. 

 

Twenty minutes later the lights turn on and another nameless scientist walks inside, followed by different nurses. They pull the IV needles out of the women’s forearms, and the scientist orders them to stand. 

 

Lucy feels weak but she swings her legs over the bed and plants them firmly into the concrete before standing. She almost stumbles, knees buckling, but she retains her balance and straightens her back, shoulders squared as she waits for further instruction. Her heart thumps against her chest as she hears the sound of knees hitting concrete. Her head threatens to snap to the side as Subject 009 and Subject 006 at the furthest side of the room kneel on the ground, hands clasping their heads as they cry. 

 

Tension fills the room in seconds and the scientist beckons two guards inside. The women know they are the cleanup crew. The two women who fell beg for their lives, but their pleas fall on dead ears. The guards snap their necks brutally, and their bodies fall to the ground. They are dragged like dead pigs and Lucy feels her stomach twist in a knot.

 

She watches another woman across from her vomit and she receives a broken wrist from the scientist. She cries and is removed from the room. The scientist regards the others with a threatening stare and Lucy stops bile from climbing her throat.

 

They are escorted from the room, surrounded by guards once again. They enter a vast training room where piles of clothes are folded carefully across mats. Lucy changes efficiently and straightens as Subject 015 does. She glares and Lucy remains calm. The scientist puts them in pairs before they are instructed to fight when he whistles. Lucy is paired with Subject 012 and the scientist whistles. Lucy pins her to the mat before she can touch her. The scientist is pleased and she knows she has climbed the ranks once again.

 

Training ends and the guards surround them again. They enter an open shower room with ten separate shower heads. Five women step under the shower and ice cold water bursts from the faucet. Lucy lets the water trickle over her head as goosebumps litter her skin. They stand beneath the shower heads until the water is abruptly cut off. 

 

The eight women who had waited step under the shower heads and Lucy enters a changing room with the first eight. She wears a hospital gown, alongside the women besides her. They remain silent, but Lucy can see their eyes are dull of life. She tells herself she will hold onto her humanity until she dies. 

 

The women who have managed to survive another day are escorted to sensory deprivation tanks, built for each woman based on height and width. Lucy steps inside of hers backwards, head brushing against the ceiling of the tank as her arms press against her sides. She can barely breathe, much less move, and the scientist smiles at her as the door is shut, and she is succumbed by darkness.

 

A light inside flashes every ten seconds, and Lucy does not fall asleep. She thinks of her childhood, her family, her job, and her friends. She does not let negative thoughts crumble her sanity. 

 

When the door opens Lucy’s eyes snap open and relief floods her veins. She sees the other women cling to the other scientists who open their doors, filled with relief and thankful towards the very ones who put them inside. Lucy is relieved, yes, but she does not grab the scientist in front of her, to his distaste. She steps outside- her legs wobble- then she is standing like a soldier once again.

 

They are led from the sensory deprivation tanks towards an empty cafeteria with plates of food lines in front of each seat. This is when they are finally left alone- the guards and scientists leave after locking the doors. Lucy takes her plate of food, a bland tasting soup with vegetables, and avoids the others. Some talk to each other in hushed whispers, others become violent. Lucy walks to the corner of the room and eats as Subject 011 tries to strangle Subject 010. 

 

When the cafeteria doors open Subject 010 and Subject 011 are thrown apart and are told they will be punished for misbehavior. They are taken to their cells, and the rest of the women are taken to the room with hospital beds once again. Pints of blood are taken from each of them, but Lucy is not aware of most of it.

 

She comes back to herself when they are taken to another room with an assortment of knives. There is an instructor, who shows them what to do. He trains them to be silent and calls the knife an extended limb. Lucy is careful to not cut herself, and she practices with dedication. She pleases the instructor as well, and she knows she has moved up the ranks, again.

 

Afterwards they are taken to a gun range, where they see agents training with each other, laughing and grinning as they challenge each other. Lucy’s head tilts to the side when a hushed silence erupts after they are walked inside. The agents are now engrossed in the newcomers as they are given guns. Lucy shoots with perfection- hunting with her father had paid off- and the knock back of each weapon she uses does not affect her. Subject 014 shoots and her gun flies through the air. 

 

A sharp whistle stops the gunfire and Lucy is aware of the ringing in her ears. The same scientist strolls towards Subject 014 with the posture of a colonel and they wait patiently as she is pistol-whipped in the face. Blood trickles down her cheek but she makes no move to hold her face and the gun is returned to her hands. He whistles and the women consecutively turn their heads and face their faux targets. Lucy pulls the trigger to her gun.

 

When the order is given to drop their guns, they do, and metal clatters against concrete. The women are separated into pairs. Lucy is paired with Subject 015 who seems to despise her. They are escorted by the colonel of a scientist himself, and Lucy knows they must be the top two amongst the others. They are taken into a room where two men are on their knees, hands tied behind their backs, a sack pulled over their heads. 

 

Subject 015 is handed a gun and is ordered to shoot. Without hesitation she pulls the trigger three times. Lucy is disgusted in her compliance. One bullet hits his head, the others hit his chest. The man falls to the ground, nothing but a bleeding corpse. The man besides him starts to struggle but he cannot escape, Lucy knows this.

 

HYDRA is not something you can escape.

 

The scientist hands her a gun and she takes it. Her hand is steady as she points it at the man who is now her target. He sobs behind the sack pulled over his head and Lucy’s eyes grow colder than they are.

 

She pulls the trigger three times.

 

Three bullets hit the ground besides the man’s feet and he jumps, but remains unscathed. Lucy is ordered to drop the gun, and it hits the ground. The scientist is outraged, and he glowers at her. She does not respond as he curses her angrily. Then her hair is grabbed and she is pushed to her knees. His other hand backhands her hard across the face and she swallows blood. Subject 015 is quietly escorted by the other guards, who regard their colleague with caution, and Lucy is left along with the man.

 

Lucy let’s him punch her across the face, and her lip bleeds. He yells at her for making a mess, and she can hear the target, who is still alive, begging to save her life. She finds the situation ironic, since she has almost killed him. The scientist grabs the gun and shoots the man point-blank. Lucy does not make a sound, but her eyes are filled with defiance as the scientist points the gun at her face.

 

She assumes failure to kill is worse than the failure to shoot, and she waits to be killed like Subject 009 and 006, or pistol-whipped like Subject 014 then shot.

 

She waits, unmoving. 

 

He pulls the trigger and Lucy hears the bullet crack against the wall behind her. He claims she is too valuable to kill, and with sudden calmness, he escorts her back to her cell. She walks inside, hands open-palmed, not in surrender, but to show she has nothing in her hands. He sneers as the metal door slams shut.

 

Her back presses against the wall when the first lock clicks. She slides onto her knees when the second lock clicks. Her eyes flutter shut and she leans her head against the floor as the third lock clicks. When the fourth lock clicks she wraps one arm around herself, tucking the other beneath her head as a makeshift pillow. 

 

She is expected to fall asleep between the first lock and the fifth lock, regardless of injuries from the day. 

Chapter 2: One

Notes:

Forgot to mention that this is an old fic I've been recommended to post here! This was also on Wattpad as "Zeitgeist", and is a four book series.

“Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth.”

Bavaria, Germany

November, 1939

LUCY’S HAIR WAS GOLD, tied in a taut ponytail. Strands of it hung loosely at the sides of her head, brushing gently against her jaw. Her pupils were dilated, a vibrant sapphire hue which swirled with the currents of the ocean. The storm of emotions brewing in her gaze was carefully concealed, eyes fixated on her opponent. 

 

She wore a white tank top with black shorts, socks pulled right beneath her ankles accompanied by a pair of low-ankle combat boots. Her back was as straight as a board, shoulder’s poised eloquently, reminiscent of a soldier. She shifted her feet so they were about a foot apart, head level with her opponent’s gaze. If she were to put a ruler beneath her nose, it’d be flawlessly horizontal to the ground.

 

She was in a windowless room, dull, with an unreachable ceiling that glowed vibrantly with lights, air vents too high to reach. She had tried to break the walls months ago, when escape was a feasible thought, but the metal was made of titanium, and it proved to be a formidable force. 

 

Her fingers curled tightly into clenched fists, facing Subject 015. 

 

She has a name, Lucy knows this, but they are tagged like animals groomed for slaughter and Subject 015 will remain a number until she is deprived of oxygen, denied the permission to exist. Her name before HYDRA does not matter, and the number she is given will remain so unless she reaches the highest rank. She will be worth a name, then, and they will give her one. 

 

It is a privilege, they say, but Lucy knows her name and it will be the last thing she loses.

 

Subject 015 had been ignorant, and believed HYDRA was worth fighting for. She had volunteered, and Lucy vaguely pitied her stupidity. You do not volunteer for HYDRA, HYDRA takes what it wants, when it wants. They do not know consent and they never will- Lucy had learned that the hard way. 

 

The universe had thrust no warning in her face and she’d been snatched off the street like prey wandering mindlessly in the wilderness. She didn't have the best of luck, but she also didn't have the worst of it either, so she never suspected abduction would be on her list of untimely demises. It wasn’t a thought she pondered on, especially when she’d awoken to a picture perfect morning, catching sight of a sunrise worthy of films. That day she’d cooked a fine egg, sunny side up with yolk running off the sides of her buttery toast. 

 

Her white button up bonnie blouse had been remarkably spotless, and her suit jacket in pristine condition. She had ironed a plaid skirt- smooth over her hips with a slight flare at the hem, hovering right above her knees and cut wide enough for comfortable movement.

It’d been November, and the year had been gifted with an early snowfall. Ice crystals had landed harmlessly on her shoulders and the wintry sun had pierced through the blanket of white covering the sky. She’d taken the same taxi to work everyday, but- for whatever ridiculous reason- she didn't bother to find the same car and entered the first yellow taxi to approach. 

 

She would never make it to her four hour shift at the factory, much less her home.

 

Subject 015 clenched her jaw tightly, anger brewing in her eyes. She squared her shoulders and slid her leg across the titanium floor, widening her stance, appearing threatening. Her lips curled into a snarl, breath sharp and deliberate. 

 

Lucy remained indifferent to the gesture, the anxious twitch in her lip unnoticeable. 

 

Neither opponent commenced in combat and Lucy could see the impatient spasm in Subject 015’s jaw. Her eyes flickered to the three scientists standing besides the glass entrance, before returning her animalistic gaze to Lucy. 

 

The scientists were dressed in white lab coats, consisting only of men.

 

The shortest of the three adjusted his round-rimmed glasses, blue eyes regarding the pair curiously. They called him Dr. Arnim Zola, an intelligent biochemist of Swiss ethnicity, who was hired by Schmidt as a geneticist, promising to deliver serums of extraordinary strength. Clumps of blonde hair clung to his head and his brows were furrowed with interest. He held a clipboard in one hand, the other gripped tightly around his pencil, which scribbled across his clipboard fervently.

 

Besides him stood an older man who Lucy knew as Dr. Abraham Erskine, a Jewish scientist of German ethnicity, and a remarkable genius. His frail white hair was combed neatly across his head, flecks of gray adorning his beard. He too wore a pair of round-rimmed glasses, sitting on the bridge of his nose. His lips were pressed in a grim frown, eyes flickering from his clipboard, to Lucy, then the entrance, which also served as the only exit. His gaze would return to his clipboard, then he would shift on his feet nervously, spinning the pen in his hand habitually. His gestures repeated routinely- clipboard, Lucy, entrance- and Lucy found it grimly alarming at how obvious his anxiety was. 

 

He was a displaced man who did not morally agree with the scientists standing on either side of him. He attempted not to let his empathy show, pen still swinging between thumb and forefinger, but it was only that- an attempt. 

 

He didn’t belong here. 

 

The tallest- but youngest of the three- was Dr. Schaffer, a psychological analyzer of German ethnicity and former colonel of the Wehrmacht, demoted due to unjustified violence. He held a timer in one hand, thumb hovering above the button which would click once the order to attack was given. His muscles rippled beneath his coat, earthy brown eyes lacking emotions, sharp and bright with years of youth. A skull with tentacles curled into a pin was clipped to his chest, chiseled jaw tilted a fraction of an inch. His lips were stretched in a proud pleasant smile.

 

Lucy’s chest rose and fell in an even rhythm, heart drumming against her ears with an orchestral hum. Subject 015 failed to remain still, feet sliding millimeters left and right. 

 

The muscle in Dr. Schaffer’s jaw ticked as he curled his tongue at the center of his mouth. His lips bunched together and a shrill whistle left his lips. 

 

Lucy’s muscles tensed instinctively and she jumped into action. She pushed back on her left leg and closed the space between them. Her opponent was well-practiced in hand to hand combat and Subject 015 merely sidestepped her. She tilted her head in a cocky manner, emotions bleeding through her expression. Her eyes flitted across Lucy with an amused and underestimating look. 

 

Lucy envied her as she swung her fist beneath her chin. 

 

Subject 015 did not need to learn compliance through torture. She acted on her own impulse when Lucy would be punished for doing so. Lucy knew anyone who willingly fought for HYDRA had the mental capabilities of a cow, and was thoroughly perplexed. She fought to survive, not for world domination, and her envy quickly morphed into a healthy dosage of pride. 

 

She threw her foot out and caught Lucy in the stomach. Pain exploded throughout her abdomen and she staggered backwards, crouching to the floor as Subject 015’s other foot flew towards her head. Lucy jumped to her feet as Subject 015 tried to kick her in the side, and Lucy’s fist collided with her opponent’s torso. 

 

To her surprise, she hit fingers instead of pure muscle. 

 

Lucy noted Subject 015’s hands could not hold the momentum she’d burdened her with as her opponent skidded backwards. Her opponent relied on the strength of her legs rather than the strength of her arms, and her choreographed dance was riddled with flaws. 

 

They did not expect anything less than perfect from Lucy, but reaching perfection was impossible. 

 

Subject 015 roundhouse kicked her in the side and Lucy jumped into the air, avoiding her leg once again. She spun and Lucy used her back as a ramp, twisting in the air and landing swiftly on her feet. She sneered at her with annoyance, but Lucy remained expressionless. This time, when Subject 015 used her leg to front kick Lucy in the stomach, she was ready. Lucy held fast to her opponent's combat boot, narrowly stopping the blow. She twisted Subject 015’s ankle and she gritted her teeth. A punch was thrown to her jaw, and Lucy’s head snapped to the side. 

 

But she endured the pain and refused to let go of her opponent's foot, grip tightening.

 

Subject 015 raised her fist to punch her again, as Lucy simultaneously lifted her own hand. She caught her opponent's gaze, horror flickering between her eyes. Lucy didn’t hesitate, her hand snapping against the ankle joint between her talus and smaller fibula. 

 

A crack sounded and a strangled cry escaped Subject 015’s lips. 

 

Lucy let go of her opponent’s useless leg, and she glared with heated rage. Lucy’s indifference seemed to frustrate her, and she slammed her fist into her face. 

 

Something flickered between her eyes but it disappeared before her opponent could catch the emotion. The hit landed straight on her cheek and her jaw clenched as an inaudible crack resounded in her ears. With anger fueling her arms, Subject 015’s punches were strong enough to hurt, and Lucy let satisfaction wash over her opponents face.

 

She dodged the next punch, however, and drove her fist into her abdomen harshly. She let out a pained hiss and Lucy slammed her other fist between her eyes. Subject 015 staggered backwards and failed to catch her balance. Lucy did not give her another chance to stand as she put one foot on her chest, the other pressed firmly against her arm. 

 

She wrapped her hand around Subject 015’s neck and flexed her fingers. Her opponent gagged and Lucy watched as her face grew disturbingly blue. Her legs kicked furiously beneath her as she tried to evade Lucy’s hold, but her grip merely tightened. 

 

“Arzt Schaffer. . .” 

 

Doctor Schaffer. . .

 

Dr. Erskine trailed off hesitantly.

 

Lucy successfully did not hurl her stomach onto the room’s silvery floor. 

 

“Arzt Erskine.” 

 

Doctor Erskine.

 

He replied curtly, lips curling into a sneer.

 

Subject 015 started to grow desperate, and her nails hooked into the side of Lucy’s arm, tearing into skin and drawing blood. 

 

But Dr. Schaffer hadn’t whistled and Lucy was not permitted to stop unless he did, so she kept her grip tight against Subject 015’s neck. 

 

Seconds ticked by and Lucy felt her indifferent facade crumble as anxiety flickered between her eyes. Her hand trembled as Subject 015’s rhythmic heartbeat increased rapidly but grew weaker. She clasped a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp of horror as Subject 015’s clawing hand weakly slumped against the ground. 

 

Dr. Schaffer had taught her everything she needed to know in order to incapacitate someone. An average person could only go without oxygen for four to five minutes before they became brain dead. She risked a glance at the unpredictable man, only to find his eyes fixated on his hand-held watch. 

 

Sickening realization settled in her stomach and her hand recoiled from her opponent's neck. Subject 015 remained unresponsive and Lucy’s hands trembled, the thought of killing someone twisting her stomach in a knot.

 

“Das reicht, Henry.” 

 

That’s enough, Henry.

 

Dr. Zola snapped, his pencil sharply hitting the side of his clipboard. 

 

Ten seconds passed before Subject 015 gasped awake, breathing in gulps of air. A breath of relief left Lucy’s lips as she staggered backwards, her hand gripping the other with disgust and sheer terror. 

 

“Arnim. Es ist genug, wenn ich mich entscheide.”

 

Arnim. It is enough when I decide.

 

Dr. Schaffer replied calmly. 

 

She hit the ground with a thud, wincing at the pain shooting up her tailbone. 

 

For a tense moment they stared at each other and Lucy refrained from asking if she was alright. 

 

Then, as if she hadn’t almost been strangled to death, Subject 015 lunged across the space between them, knocking the air out of Lucy’s lungs. Her head hit the ground with a sickening crack and she groaned in pain. Blinking stars out of her eyes she grew vaguely aware of the hand tightening around her neck. 

 

“Henry. Dies ist ein Gruppenprojekt. Sie werden diese operation nicht gefährden.”

 

Henry. This is a group project. You will not jeopardize this operation.

 

Dr. Zola said harshly.

 

She blearily looked at Subject 015 who’s eyes burned with distaste. 

 

A shrill whistle interrupted the two, and Subject 015 grumbled as she pulled her hand off Lucy’s neck. She stood and Lucy rolled onto her stomach, coughing as she rasped. She massaged her neck, wincing at the bruises she knew had formed. 

 

She pushed herself back onto her feet, stumbling forwards and barely catching herself. She avoided Subject 015’s gaze as she stepped a few feet to the left of her. She stood to attention once again, eyes flitting across the floor. 

 

“Also hast du deine Wahl getroffen, ja?”

 

So you’ve made your choice, yes?

 

Dr. Schaffer said with a calculating tilt of his head.

 

Dr. Zola adjusted his glasses once again, a confident smile on his lips. He stepped in front of the pair and Subject 015 lifted her head. Lucy inhaled, held her breath, then exhaled slowly, counting her wildly beating heartbeats. They wanted her to kill someone and she’d almost done it- not hyperventilating was near impossible.

 

“Subjekt 016, sind Sie sich bewusst, dass Sie Ihren Wangenknochen gebrochen haben?”

 

Subject 016, are you aware you’ve broken your cheekbone?

 

Dr. Zola questioned and Lucy had to remember he was addressing her.

 

She nodded once.

 

“Warum hast du dich Von ihr schlagen lassen?”

 

Why did you let her hit you? 

 

He asked gently.

 

Subject 015 let out an unamused noise and Dr. Schaffer scoffed at the claim.

 

Dr. Zola carefully concealed the annoyed twitch in his eyelid as he forced his perfect smile to remain. He appeared encouraging, and Lucy lifted her gaze from the ground for a second, before lowering it once again. She swallowed thickly, and her fingers tapped against her thigh in a rhythmic pattern- one, two, pause, one, two, three, pause. She realized Dr. Zola was patient enough to wait for a verbal answer.

 

If she lied, it would slightly frustrate Dr. Zola, but enrage Dr. Schaffer. Dr. Erskine would remain nervous and empathetic. But if she answered honestly Lucy would have to be careful with her words, otherwise the same result would occur. 

 

“Ich- Ich habe es verdient.”

 

I-I deserved it.

 

She said with a labored breath, eyes flickering back and forth. 

 

Dr. Zola hummed and tucked his clipboard beneath his right arm.

 

“Weil du Ihr den Knöchel gebrochen hast?”

 

Because you broke her ankle? 

 

He clarified and Lucy hesitated, before nodding again.

 

Dr. Zola’s encouraging smile melted into that of triumph and he gestured towards Subject 015.

 

“Und wie fühlen Sie sich zu Subjekt 015?”

 

And how do you feel about Subject 015?

 

He questioned and Lucy bit the inside of her cheek, unsure of what to say.

 

She wanted to sympathize with the woman besides her but animals were not something she could relate to. They’d taken Subject 015’s humanity and remade her, reducing her to nothing but a bloodthirsty animal. Lucy wondered if there was any thought behind the angry eyes of Subject 015, and if there was, the only proof was the slight flicker of pride dancing behind her blazoned eyes.

 

At the very least, she was empathetic towards the woman, but their situations varied immensely so the emotion was minimal. Lucy calmly breathed through her nose as her heart drummed against her ears. 

 

“Ich. . .” 

 

1. . .

 

Her head snapped to the side in a nervous tic.

 

 “. . .weiß nicht.”

 

. . .don’t know.

 

If Dr. Zola’s smile could widen further, it did, and he adjusted his glasses once again.

 

“Tut mir Leid-”

 

I’m sorry-

 

He started, and Lucy was thoroughly surprised he apologized.

 

“- lassen Sie mich genauer sein. Fühlst du dich wütend?”

 

-let me be more specific. Do you feel angry?

 

He said.

 

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, the gesture disappearing from her face quickly. She repressed a frown and shook her head firmly. Dr. Zola clasped his hands together and Lucy flinched, her eyelid twitching. He glanced at her apologetically before turning to Subject 015.

 

“Fühlst du dich wütend?

 

Do you feel angry?

 

He asked and Subject 015’s jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes.

 

“Ja. Ich bin. Haben Sie jemals einen Knochen gebrochen, Doktor?” 

 

Yes. I am. Have you ever broken a bone, Doctor?

 

She all but sneered.

 

Dr. Zola’s smile strained and he turned to Dr. Schaffer with a pointed gaze. 

 

“Ich habe meine Wahl getroffen.”

 

I’ve made my choice.

 

He paused. 

 

“Und du? Hast du einen auserwählt?”

 

And you? Have you chosen one?

 

Dr. Schaffer merely tucked his timer into his pocket, adjusting his lab coat. 

 

“Ich habe.”

 

I have.

 

Dr. Schaffer met Dr. Zola’s gaze and the pair shared a silent conversation, lips tilting upwards in a consecutive smile.

 

Dr. Zola turned to Dr. Erskine, gesturing towards Lucy, who tried not to recoil from his hand.

 

“Dr. Erskine, ich vertraue darauf, dass Sie Subjekt 016 ohne Komplikationen auf Zimmer P-TD begleiten können?”

 

Dr. Erskine, I trust you can escort Subject 016 to room P-TD without any complications?

 

Lucy shifted her gaze to meet Dr. Erskine’s, who nervously stopped swinging the pen in his hand. He clipped it to his clipboard as he caught Dr. Zola’s passive aggressive stare, Dr. Schaffer sneering not too far behind.

 

“Ich-“ 

 

I-

 

He stopped, hand trembling as his hand tightened around his clipboard.

 

“- kann. Ja.”

 

-can. Yes.

 

Dr. Erskine gave him a strained smile, then turned to Lucy, a well hidden look of disgust flickering between his eyes, pointed towards his dislikeable colleagues.

 

“Wenn Sie mir folgen könnte, bitte.”

 

If you could follow me, please.

 

Dr. Erskine said kindly, stepping out of the room. 

 

Lucy silently followed, eyes flickering towards the guards standing at the exit. She hurriedly lowered her gaze to the floor as Dr. Erskine walked briskly down the hall. He shuffled in front of her as they passed several office doors and she fell into step behind him, footsteps echoing. He stopped in front of a metal door with a singular glass window and Lucy’s heart thumped against her rib cage.

 

She watched as Dr. Erskine fiddled with a ring of keys in his hand, clipboard pressed beneath his arm. He looked conflicted, eyeing the door like it was poisoned, and Lucy knew it wasn’t the keys troubling him. Whatever was beyond the door wasn’t something he wanted to expose her too, and Lucy wasn’t sure whether or not she should be grateful for his attempt to prolong her unavoidable fate. 

 

She was quite possibly walking to her death and Lucy found herself surprisingly numb. 

 

Dr. Erskine pressed the key into the door, letting the lock click before he pushed the door open. He dragged his feet across the floor as he stepped inside, and Lucy followed. He shut the door and paced down the corridor before halting without warning. Lucy narrowly missed slamming into him and she breathed in sharply.

 

Dr. Erskine mumbled a quick apology as they stood unmoving in the hall empty of guards. Lucy lifted her head, shifting her gaze to Dr. Erskine who fiddled with the keys in his hand. 

 

“Tut mir Leid, dass dir das passieren muss.”

 

I’m sorry that this has to happen to you.

 

He said, removing his glasses and cleaning it with the loose end of his coat.

 

His apology rang odd in her ears and the cautious part of her wondered if Dr. Erskine was capable of malice. He seemed meaningful, but Lucy had been here long enough to know it could just as easily be sarcastic. The thought was unlikely, so she decided to test the waters, hoping she’d be permitted the freedom of speech. 

 

“Warum-“

 

Why-

 

She hesitated.

 

“Warum bist du heir?”

 

Why are you here?

 

She asked, a shuddering breath leaving her lips.

 

Dr. Erskine placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose and looked at her with a dejected look, hands fiddling with the cuffs of his lab coat.

 

“Früher habe ich in Augsburg, Deutschland gelebt, bevor ich von den Nazis gefangen genommen wurde. Ich bin jetzt hier und entwickle unfreiwillig ein genetisches verbesserung serum.”

 

I used to live in Augsburg before I was captured by the Nazis. Johann Schmidt found interest in my scientific work. I am here now, involuntarily developing a genetic enhancing serum. 

 

He said bitterly, head shaking with distaste. 

 

Lucy had only heard of Johann Schmidt through rumors which were bound to travel across the walls. She knew he was the leader of HYDRA, and she also knew he was a tyrant who was terrifying, even towards the people who shared his ideology. 

 

Dr. Erskine cleared his throat and lifted his gaze hesitantly.

 

“Und Sie kommen aus-?”

 

And you’re from-?

 

He questioned gently, and Lucy rubbed the sides of her elbows nervously.

 

“Weimar, Deutschland.” 

 

Weimar, Germany. 

 

She inspected him for a moment before cautiously adding- 

 

“Als ich sechs war, zog ich aus Brooklyn, New York. Meine Mutter war Amerikanerin. Mein Vater ist deutscher.”

 

When I was six I moved from Brooklyn, New York. My mother was American. My father is German.

 

Dr. Erskine’s lips twisted upwards in a rueful smile, the implication of ‘was’ heavy in the air. Lucy wondered if he thought she was taken in a violent manner, leaving her mother dead in the process. Sometimes she wished she had, then her mother’s death would’ve been memorable- murder was more eye catching then tuberculosis- and she wouldn’t think of how chillingly calm her abduction had really been.

 

“Mein Frau war Schweizerin.”

 

My wife was Swiss.

 

He muttered, before taking a heavy step towards the only door at the end of the hall. 

 

Lucy stepped behind him as he entered the room. He shut the door behind him and placed his clipboard on a small table besides it. Lucy scanned the room and was sickened to find a steel table at the center of it’s barren walls, accompanied by metallic straps. Various medical equipment surrounded the table almost innocently. At the far end of the room was a chute besides a furnace, which was wide enough to fit a person. A shiver travelled up her spine and she turned to Dr. Erskine, whose face had grown incredibly pale with horror.

 

She watched, unmovingly, as Dr. Erskine fiddled with the cuffs of his lab coat uncomfortably. He avoided her gaze as he shuffled towards the equipment with hesitance. 

 

“Werde ich sterben?” 

 

Am I going to die?

 

Her voice was remarkably steady as she shifted from one foot to the other.

 

If it was possible, Dr. Erskine paled further, and shook his head so fast it was a wonder he didn’t receive whiplash. He swallowed thickly and clasped his hands together, lips pressing against his knuckles as his brows furrowed stressfully. 

 

“Nein. Sie wurden ausgewählt um das Zerfall serum zu erhalten. Für Sie hat es eine Erfolgsquote von 88 Prozent und eine Ausfallrate von 12 Prozent.”

 

No. You’ve been selected to receive the Decay serum. For you, it has a success rate of 88 percent and a failure rate of 12 percent. 

 

He explained, fiddling with his fingers as he hovered besides a cart with medical gloves and various sterilization tools.

 

“Es muss etwas geben, was ich tun kann.”

 

There must be something I can do.

 

He muttered to himself and Lucy let out a long breath as she heard what probably wasn’t meant for her.

 

Without instruction she walked towards the metal table, dragging her feet across the floor. She swiftly pulled herself onto the table, goosebumps littering her legs as metal touched flesh. Her heart beat rapidly as she maneuvered around the straps, not yet brave enough to lay down completely.  

 

“Was machst du- Was machst du?”

 

What are you- What are you doing?

 

Dr. Erskine exclaimed, appalled as he hurriedly pushed the medical cart out of the way. He reached out to grab her hand and pull her off the table but Lucy flinched at the sudden movement, shoulders drawing inwards instinctively. He hastily pulled his hand back, horrified at the action's insinuation.

 

Lucy swallowed thickly and clicked the heels of her feet together, legs swinging slightly.

 

“Du willst Leben.”

 

You want to live.

 

She stated and Dr. Erskine lowered his head, shoulders slumping with an emotion she didn’t quite catch. He nodded in confirmation and she drew in a long breath.

 

“Dann werde ich tun, was notwendig ist.”

 

Then I will do what is necessary.

 

She said and Dr. Erskine lifted his head, lips tilted downwards in a conflicted frown. He wanted to refuse, Lucy could see it in his shimmering eyes, but she didn’t need his death weighing on her conscience. 

 

She gripped her forearms and rubbed her fingers against the goosebumps unfurling across her skin. It was drastically warmer than the cold metal beneath her, and it reaffirmed her humanity. 

 

“Leben zu wollen ist kein Verbrechen, Arzt-“

 

Wanting to live is not a crime, Dr.-

 

She muttered, head tilting to the side as she gazed at the furnace nestled in the corner of the room. Now that death wasn’t looming over her head, it was less daunting than before, reduced to nothing but a hole in the wall. 

 

“Abraham. Bitte, Ruf nenn mich Abraham.”

 

Abraham. Please, call me Abraham.

 

He said, bringing a hand beneath his eye as he stopped tears threatening to fall. 

 

He sniffled once, and hurriedly wiped his nose with his sleeve. If he was any other scientist Lucy would have the vague desire to jeer at him, but he was the only person with an ounce of humanity in this facility. It could’ve been a manipulative tactic, but the skeletal frame of his body was reflective of a tortured man and the dark circles beneath his eyes were ghastly. It was a wonder his cheeks hadn’t sunken yet. 

 

“Du und ich wollen nicht hier sein, Abraham.”

 

You and I do not want to be here, Abraham. 

 

She spoke softly for the first time in months, with an unwavering confidence she’d suspected had been beaten out of her.

 

“Was auch immer mit uns beiden passiert, ist nicht deine eigene Schuld.”

 

Whatever happens to both of us is not your own fault.

 

She continued calmly, and Abraham blinked harshly, pulling his glasses off his face once again. He vigorously cleaned the spotless lens, speaking hesitantly.

 

“Ich bin nicht nur ein Zuschauer-“

 

I am not just a bystander-

 

He paused, tongue darting across his lips unsurely.

 

“Lucy. Mein name ist Lucille, aber ich bevorzuge Lucy.”

 

Lucy. My name is Lucille, but I prefer Lucy.

 

She supplied and Abraham nodded gratefully, clearly not wanting to refer to her as a number.

 

“Ich will nicht für Schmidt arbeiten, Lucy, aber ich arbeite immer noch für ihn. Schuld ist unvermeidlich.”

 

I don’t want to work for Schmidt, Lucy, but I still work for him. Guilt is inevitable.

 

He shook his head and Lucy frowned. 

 

Her hand grasped one of the straps on the table, fingers trembling as she fiddled with the lock. She breathed deeply and gave Abraham a thin-lipped smile.

 

“Lassen Sie diejenigen, die es verdienen, schuldig zu sein, so bleiben. Du behandelst mich wie einen Menschen, und Freundlichkeit ist hier selten.”

 

Let those who deserve to be guilty remain so. You treat me like a human being, and kindness is rare here.

 

She said and Abraham nodded, seemingly to himself as he grabbed one of the medical gloves, hands shaking as he tried to pull them over his fingers.

 

“Es ist unsere Pflicht, Menschen so zu behandeln, wie wir behandelt werden möchten.”

 

It’s our duty to treat people just as we would like to be treated.

 

He affirmed and Lucy played with the fabric of her tank top, tilting her head. 

 

“Sie sagen, ich bin ein Tier.”

 

They say I’m an animal.

 

She hummed and Abraham adjusted his glasses as he lifted his head to look at her. His lips tilted into a deep frown as he wiped his gloved hands with isopropyl alcohol.

 

“Krieg tut einem Mann viele Dinge, aber Sie bleiben ein Mann. Du bist nicht so anders.”

 

War does many things to a man, but they remain a man. You are not so different.

 

He said firmly, and Lucy wished she could believe it with as much confidence he had.

 

She didn’t reply and the bitter expression on her face slipped away as voices travelled down the hall beyond the entrance. when the door opened with a metal clang. Her back straightened and she held her hands out open-palmed. 

 

“Du gehst auf Wolken, Arnim. Wo ist dein Selbstbewusstsein?”

 

You walk on clouds Arnim. Where is your self- confidence?

 

Dr. Schaffer said, walking inside with a scowl on his lips, dragging a metal cart behind him. 

 

Lucy watched silently as Dr. Zola stepped inside behind him, waving the clipboard in his hand enthusiastically, eyebrows furrowed in an angry grimace.

 

“Abwesend, denn es gibt nichts, worauf man sich verlassen kann! Sie sind egoistisch, wenn Sie denken, dass das biegen der Regeln das Ergebnis nicht beeinflusst.

 

Absent because there is nothing to be confident of! You are selfish if you think bending the rules does not affect the result.

 

He retorted, tossing his clipboard on the desk besides the door. It clattered loudly and Lucy winced as the sound rang in her ears. 

 

Dr. Schaffer scoffed and the wheels to his cart squealed as he shoved it towards Abraham. He breathed in sharply and skittishly caught it before the cart could slam into him. Two menacing hypodermic needles clattered against each other and Lucy caught the vivid colors of red and blue travelling within the syringe. She swallowed and suppressed the urge to frown as Dr. Schaffer turned on his heel, cocking his head to the side as he looked at Dr. Zola.

 

“Hat mich noch nicht getötet, Arnim.”

 

Hasn’t killed me yet, Arnim.

 

He shrugged and Dr. Zola narrowed his eyes.

 

“Das sind Worte eines Narren.”

 

Those are words of a fool.

 

He stated, strolling past him and towards the metal tray Abraham had been standing by. He grabbed medical gloves and pulled them over his hands without any hesitance, sterilizing them silently.

 

Dr. Schaffer’s scowl deepened and Lucy dropped her gaze as he turned to look at her. He narrowed his eyes and waved his hand towards her open-palms. She lowered her hands carefully and pressed them against the metal table as he joined his colleagues. 

 

“Hinzulegen.”

 

Lie down.

 

Dr. Schaffer ordered as he pulled on gloves. 

 

Lucy’s grip on the table tightened and her heart thumped rapidly against her chest. She lowered herself and shivered as her back made contact with metal. 

 

Abraham stepped besides her, lips pulled in a tight grimace. She regarded him with pity as he clicked the straps over her chest and torso. She counted her seconds of inhale and exhale, heart rate remaining as calm as possible. 

 

Dr. Zola stepped to the otherside of her, putting one hand beneath her head, and lifting it upwards. She flinched at the contact and that same apologetic look he’d given her before crossed his face- it was a look that made her feel incompetent. She gripped the sides of the table as he tilted her head, exposing the veins of her neck. She squirmed instinctively and Dr. Zola frowned. He gripped the muscle beneath her jaw at the top of her neck and she froze. 

 

“Ist das notwendig?”

 

Is this necessary?

 

She heard Abraham mutter and Dr. Zola’s eyes narrowed into the first glare she’d ever seen on his face.

 

Abraham shut his mouth and turned towards the tray holding syringes, hands surprisingly steady. He pulled the protective caps off and the sharp needles shined against the ceiling light. He flicked the needles and she shut her eyes.

 

“Nein, nein. Augen offen.”

 

No, no. Eyes open.

 

Dr. Zola said, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

 

She flinched and pried her eyes open, looking up at Dr. Zola who smiled, nodding in an approval she didn’t want. She focused on the reflection of his glasses as Dr. Schaffer bent down beside her, wiping her neck with a cloth soaked in disinfectant. 

 

She felt Abraham pinch at the side of her neck, seemingly finding the right vein. She blinked harshly to stop herself from closing her eyes completely, and she waited for the needles to pierce her skin.

 

A few seconds of silence passed and she felt the sharp tip of the needles brush against the surface of her skin before they hit the metal table with a clatter. She winced at the echoing sound and turned her head. Dr. Zola didn’t push her back in place, and Lucy wished he had.

 

Abraham had cold sweat trickling down his forehead, eyebrows furrowed in a determined manner. His hands continued to tremble as he shook his head at Dr. Schaffer, who’s vein threatened to pop from his forehead. 

 

“Was zum Teufel machst du da?!”

 

What the hell are you doing?!

 

He snarled and Lucy felt her heartbeat quicken as Dr. Schaffer grabbed Abraham by the collar of his shirt. She felt her jaw clench instinctively and Dr. Zola moved his attention to her as she watched the pair.

 

“Ich kann das nicht tun. Du weißt es nicht-“

 

I can’t do that. You don’t know-

 

Abraham started with a shuddering breath and Dr. Schaffer backhanded him across the face. 

 

Her blood ran cold and she looked at Dr. Zola with frantic eyes, failing terribly at concealing her horror. Her lips formed in a silent plea and he tilted his head in thought. After a moment he let go of her head and turned to his colleagues.

 

“Henry, seien wir rational. Sie wird in Panik geraten und ihre Herzfrequenz wird zu hoch sein.”

 

Henry, let’s be rational here. She’ll panic and her heart rate will be too high. 

 

Dr. Zola said calmly, lips tilted in a firm smile. 

 

Dr. Schaffer turned to him with a sharp glare, hand still harshly gripping onto Abraham’s lab boat. A bruise was forming over the older man’s cheek and Lucy cringed, knowing how strong the other doctor was. 

 

Dr. Zola stood his ground and Dr. Schaffer swallowed his anger, shoving Abraham, into the wall. 

 

“Es.”

 

It.

 

Dr. Schaffer corrected as he stepped besides Lucy, grabbing the fallen syringes and holding it towards Abraham with an aggressive smile.

 

“Du hast außergewöhnliche Fähigkeiten, Jude. Tun Sie es, oder ich werde, und ich könnte nur die richtige Vene verpassen.”

 

You have extraordinary abilities, Jew. Do it or I will, and I might just miss the right vein.

 

His teeth shined threateningly and Lucy lowered her head against the table, a long breath escaping her lips.

 

Abraham’s hands trembled but he didn’t hesitate, swiping the needles from his hand. She remembered to keep her eyes open as Abraham gently pressed the needles into her neck. She winced at the slight pinch, then relaxed when the cold metal disappeared from her skin.

 

“Öffne deinen Mund.”

 

Open your mouth.

 

Dr. Zola ordered and she hesitated.

 

Without warning a burning sensation ripped from the back of her head and a soldering heat climbed it’s way down her spine. She writhed, head threatening to loll from side to side. Dr. Zola held her head with a firm grip as she opened her mouth to scream. He placed a metal mouth guard above her tongue and her jaws ached as her teeth crashed on metal. 

 

“Sie sollte dafür nicht wach sein!”

 

She should not be awake for this!

 

Abraham cried in outrage, and Dr. Zola breathed through his nose with annoyance.

 

“Ihr Körper erhält Anästhesie als Gift, Arzt Erskine.”

 

Her body receives anesthesia as poison, Dr. Erskine.

 

Dr. Zola said as he kept her head in place.

 

Lucy’s heart thumped in her chest unnaturally, lungs constricting as she tried to breathe. It was like her body was eating itself inside out, and her blood was tearing through muscle. It burned like she’d poured hot oil over her organs.

Her screams were muffled and tears slid down the sides of her face. 

 

“Du bist okay. Du musst nur atmen.”

 

You’re okay. You just have to breathe.

 

Dr. Zola soothed in a soft voice, hand brushing against her face.

 

She could see Abraham in her peripheral vision, and he was leaning heavily against the wall, hand clutching his lab coat where his heart was. He was hunched over and looked seconds from throwing up.

 

When the pain started to thrum at a less painful pace she let out short gasps and jerked her head towards Abraham with meaning. Dr. Zola’s brows furrowed in confusion before he shifted his gaze towards Abraham, who started to cough.

 

“Bring ihn hier raus, Henry. Und für die Liebe Gottes, lass ihn sein.”

 

Get him out of here, Henry. And for the love of God, let him be.

 

Dr. Zola said firmly.

 

Dr. Schaffer clenched his jaw but nodded anyway, grabbing Abraham by his shoulder and dragging him towards the door. He stumbled over his feet and followed the younger scientist without complaint. The metal door slammed shut and Lucy struggled to keep her breathing even.

When she finally didn’t feel an ounce of discomfort, she stilled completely, counting her inhale and exhale. Dr. Zola looped his finger around the metal hook of the mouth guard and she opened her mouth as he pulled the metal from her lips. He placed it on the cart besides her, and removed the straps across her body. 

 

Lucy didn't have the strength to move and she leaned her head against the metal, finally closing her eyes.

 

“Lucy, ja?”

 

Lucy, yes?

 

He questioned and she pried her eyes open, bright with surprise.

 

“HYDRA weiß alles.”

 

HYDRA knows everything.

 

He said before she could question him.

 

She nodded once, before turning her head to the ceiling. A gasp escaped her lips and she looked around in sheer terror, suddenly very aware of her surroundings. She focused her eyes on Dr. Zola, forcing herself into a sitting position.

 

He gazed at her with a proud knowing smile, adjusting his glasses once.

“Sagen sie mir, was sehen sie?”

 

Tell me, what do you see?

 

He questioned and Lucy breathed in sharply.

 

“Alles.”

 

Everything.

Chapter 3: Two

"The willingness to learn is a choice.”

Bavaria, Germany

December, 1939

LUCY’S HANDS PLANTED FIRMLY on the ground, body vertical to the ground. Her back arched as she twisted in the air, hand crossing the other as she flipped and landed on her feet. Her hands rested on her thigh holsters for a second, then she drew two Glock’s, facing steel targets. She pulled the trigger three times on both hands, forearm dropping each time. Bullets clattered against the wall behind them, the sound echoing in the metal room. Her ears rang as sweat trickled down her forehead. She stepped forwards and inspected the entrance wound on her targets, before holstering her guns. 

 

She walked behind them, eyeing the scattered bullets, before picking all six of them up. She turned on her heel and silently paced towards a plastic container with approximately fifty four bullets. She dropped the metal in her hand and grabbed a new clip of ammo, attaching them to her guns. She turned on her heel and stood silently in the center of the room. Her knees threatened to buckle so she locked them in place, back straightening as she waited for the glass door to open. Her arms ached with fatigue and her head pulsed with a pain that vibrated throughout her whole body. 

 

She would sit if she knew who would step inside, but she never knew, and she’d rather tread forward carefully. If she was lucky, Abraham would step past the glass and bring her to the library. He’d teach her the molecular structure of chemicals and compounds and occasionally sneak her food. If she wasn’t lucky, Dr. Schaffer would step inside with an absurd request and set her up for failure.

 

The glass slid open and her expression remained neutral as Dr. Schaffer stepped inside, his brows furrowed as he rolled his eyes and tapped his pen on his clipboard. Lucy held her hands palm-out once again. He looked vaguely annoyed and he waved his hand at her. She lowered her hands and watched tensely as he stepped towards the table with bullets, dropping his clipboard with a clang. 

 

“Wie oft?”

 

How many times?

 

He questioned, grabbing six bullets and grouping them besides the container.

 

Lucy’s eyebrow twitched and she tensely folded her hands behind her back.

 

“Zehn.”

 

Ten.

 

She said firmly.

 

He hummed in response and Lucy watched in silence as metal clattered against metal. He finished counting and looked mildly satisfied as he put the bullets back in the container. He stepped around the metal table and grabbed one of the guns from her holster, spinning it in his hand. 

 

She didn’t flinch as he pointed it besides her head.

 

“Sie haben genug mit Dr. Erskine studiert, ja?”

 

You have studied enough with Dr. Erskine, yes?

 

She kept her eyes level with his shoulder, gaze shifting to the door, ignoring every impulse to step forward and run. 

 

“Ja.”

 

Yes.

 

She said and he pulled the trigger. Her ears rang as the bullet cracked behind her. He waved the gun at the wall and she turned to look at it per request.

 

“Du kannst Kugeln aufhalten.”

 

You can stop bullets.

 

He stated with no room for compromise. 

 

Lucy attempted to hide her disbelief but Dr. Schaffer caught the expression before it could fully slip away. He cocked his head to the side, as if he was daring her to defy him, and her hands trembled behind her back. 

 

She swallowed thickly and silently nodded in uncertain agreement. 

 

“Nimm was du weißt und benutze es. Dr. Erskine hat es Ihnen beigebracht, nicht wahr?”

 

Take what you know and use it. Dr. Erskine taught you, didn’t he?

 

He continued and Lucy realized he wasn’t just testing her, but also Abraham. 

 

If she failed to defy physics, then Abraham failed to teach her. They were like domino pieces, one falls and they both do. Even if she knew what he wanted was impossible, she kept her lips sealed and ran her tongue over her teeth in an effort to keep it from springing loose. She resisted the urge to ask him if he could breathe without oxygen. 

 

He raised an eyebrow, lips curling upwards into a grin, as if he knew how ridiculous his statement was. 

 

“Ja.”

 

Yes.

 

She said, careful to keep her teeth gritting at a minimum.

 

He raised the gun and this time Lucy took two steps back, standing further to the side as she narrowed her eyes at the barrel of the gun. She closed her eyes, envisioning molecules floating through the air, hardly anything but a blink as she opened her eyes again. She inwardly cringed at the molecules floating in the air, and was thoroughly disgusted when everything was suddenly clear on a microscopic level. 

 

She drew in a long breath and flinched when he pulled the trigger. 

 

Time seemed to slow down, and her brain spouted nonsense- lead-antimony alloy, brass, copper. The room itself brightened with molecules. She ignored the pounding in her head, eyes following the bullet as it grew closer and closer to the ground. She haphazardly tried to change the molecules of the bullet, assuming a denser bullet would, at the very least, slow the object down. She frowned at the minimal thinking time she had, wincing as the bullet cracked against the ground.

 

Dr. Schaffer sighed in disappointment, and his eyes twinkled with something malevolent. She flinched and held her breath as he spun the gun in his hand. She wished he would give her some sort of explanation- what exactly was she meant to do with the molecules floating before her eyes? He was, after all, the scientist in this whole matter.

 

“Wieder.”

 

Again.

 

He said sharply, pointing the gun at her feet.

 

Lucy jerked her head in a nod and she did not roll her eyes. She turned on her heel and stared at the barrel, hands tucked behind her back. Her heart thumped in her ears as she vaguely wondered what miracle could stop a bullet travelling in the air at a speed of three hundred seventy five miles per hour. 

 

He pulled the trigger and the bullet exploded with the smell of gunpowder and steel. 

 

Her lips parted in protest and she narrowly missed suppressing a frustrated grunt. He couldn’t possibly think she could do anything if he barely gave her enough time to think about it. The bullet cracked against the ground again and Lucy snapped her head to the side nervously. Her hand tapped against her forearm anxiously. He tapped his finger against the trigger and she risked glancing at him in her peripheral vision.

 

Her heart stuttered to a stop, jaw clenching as her ears rang. He had no right to be angry, even if he thought she was an all-knowing genius. It wasn’t her fault he chose “psychopathic scientist” as his major, walked into work in a bad mood and decided to set her up for failure. Whether or not he wanted to believe it, she was human, which came with making mistakes.

 

“Wieder.”

 

Again.

 

He ordered and Lucy resisted the urge to glare at him.

 

She needed a moment to collect herself- estimate where the bullet was heading, where it would land, decide between changing its density, or the air’s- but Dr. Schaffer didn’t seem to find that important. He spun the gun once in his hand, pointed at the ground, and shot. 

 

Unsurprisingly, the bullet cracked into the ground with the same rattling sound, and Lucy managed to look reasonably annoyed. Her eyebrow twitched and she chewed the inside of her lip. 

 

Dr. Schaffer hummed and Lucy breathed in sharply, heart thumping against her rib cage. Her eyes flickered to the entrance, foot shifting slightly. He ran a hand through his hair, and she jumped as a bullet cracked besides her foot. She gulped, anger overcome by fear. She slowly inched away from the entrance and Dr. Schaffer managed to look mildly content, before he threw the gun in his hand at the container of bullets on the steel table.

 

She watched as sixty bullets clattered against the ground, scattering in every direction. She grimaced as he stepped over towards her with a furious expression, but she didn’t move. His hand wrapped around her neck tightly and a stifled gasp escaped her lips as her back slammed harshly into the wall behind her.

 

“Hat der Jude dich überhaupt unterrichtet?”

 

Did the Jew teach you at all?

 

He spat and she instinctively kicked her feet, trying to fight for oxygen, and her life. 

 

His grip loosened and she breathed heavily as he backhanded her across the face. She gritted her teeth, blood dripping from her lip. She let herself fall from the impact and he crouched in front of her, grabbing her hair before she could crawl away.

 

He placed a foot on the back of her knees, and she bit back a cry as he slammed her head against the wall.

 

“Ich habe dir eine Frage gestellt.”

 

I asked you a question.

 

He sneered, eyes alive with a raging fire.

 

She could feel her tear ducts water and she tried to speak, but a raspy sound escaped her lips instead. She trembled as he fisted her hair and slammed her head against the wall again. Something warm trickled down the back of her neck and she didn’t have to see it to know it was blood. 

 

His knuckles slammed against her cheek and she spat blood. With her mouth still open, he hit her again, and she cried as her jaw snapped with a sickening crunch. Her nails hooked onto the cement ground, panic flickering between her eyes as pain burst through her skull. The molecules in the air flashed between her eyes and she was horrified to see his skin's molecular structure. 

 

She promptly hurled her stomach onto the floor, and Dr. Schaffer regarded her with disgust.

 

She vaguely knew what embarrassment was, and didn’t have an ounce of the emotion circling through her head.

 

When her stomach stopped emptying itself she eyed the ground with terror, body convulsing in horror. She held her breath and waited for Dr. Schaffer’s order to re-ingest it. 

 

Her abilities shut off out of emotional overload, and she blearily noticed the glass door slide open with a disgraceful slam. The hand gripping her hair uncurled and she leaned her head against the ground, turning her legs as the pressure on them disappeared. She brought her knees to her chest, eyes glued to the floor.

 

Dr. Schaffer calmly wiped his hands on his lab coat, swiveling on his heel and giving their visitors a smile.

 

“Henry, darf ich Fragen, was zum Teufel du tust?!”

 

Henry, may I ask what the hell you’re doing?!

 

Lucy’s eyes flitted towards the door, where Dr. Zola came into view, a clipboard and pen in his hand.

 

Abraham stood besides him, eyes filled with horror. Unable to stay away, he rushed past Dr. Schaffer and towards her, worry etched into his forehead. Lucy’s breath hitched, her mind supplying him as a threat, and she crawled backwards into the corner of the room. Abraham stopped in his tracks and slowly crouched a few feet away.

 

“Nur ich, Lucy.” 

 

Just me, Lucy.

 

He said softly, shaky palms outstretched in surrender.

 

Her hands continued to tremble and she tried to curl them into fists but her muscles were failing spectacularly at responding. She forced her lips to press into a thin line, breathing steadily as she squinted at Abraham. His lips were in a soft smile, but she could see the terror and concern in his eyes. With hesitance she leaned forwards and held a trembling hand towards him. He grasped it gently and she didn’t move as he wrapped his other arm around her back, pulling her to her feet. Her knees buckled beneath her and Abraham caught her before she could break her kneecaps.

 

“Gibt es ein problem?”

 

Is there a problem?

 

Dr. Schaffer questioned without skipping a beat, and Dr. Zola’s nostrils flared.

 

“Das sollte ich Fragen, Henry. Sie sollten Sie nicht so behandeln, Sie ist nicht nur eine weitere Testperson.”

 

I should ask that, Henry. You should not be treating her like this, she is not just another test subject.

 

Dr. Zola scolded with narrowed eyes and Dr. Schneider scoffed.

 

“Es ist eine Waffe, die lernen muss, unzerbrechlich zu sein.”

 

It is a weapon that must learn to be unbreakable.

 

He retorted and Dr. Zola massaged his temples.

 

Lucy didn’t clarify the fact she breathed, spoke and felt just as he did. 

 

“Eine Waffe, ja, aber auch ein Soldat, der brechen kann. Brechen Sie es, bevor es verwendet werden kann, und es wird überhaupt keine Waffe geben.”

 

A weapon, yes, but also a soldier who can break. Break her before she can be used and there will be no weapon at all.

 

Dr. Zola replied, lips curling into a sneer.

 

Abraham stepped towards the exit and Lucy stumbled on her feet.

 

“Du behandelst Sie wie eine Trophäe, Arnim. Du bist zu vorsichtig.”

 

You treat her like a trophy, Arnim. You’re too careful.

 

Dr. Schaffer declared, shoving his hands into his pockets.

 

“Und du bist zu grob.”

 

And you’re too rough.

 

Dr. Zola practically snarled and her eyes flickered between the two. 

 

She didn’t know what to think of their conversation, and it didn’t seem like the nameless doctor standing at the doorway wanted to hear it either. His hands were clasped together, fiddling with his fingers. 

 

“Bin ich?”

 

Am I?

 

Dr. Schaffer raised a defiant eyebrow.

 

Silence settled between the four and Lucy gnawed on the inside of her mouth. It was a dark, uneasy silence, perhaps the calm before a storm brewing beneath their noses.

 

“Ich bringe Sie zur Krankenstation.”

 

I will take her to the infirmary.

 

Abraham declared tiredly, and Lucy tripped over her feet as he opened the glass sliding door. He helped her past the doorway and shut the door behind them quietly. As they left, Dr. Zola and Dr. Schaffer exploded in a heated argument. 

 

“Ich werde nicht zögern, Schmidt von Ihrem Verhalten zu erzählen, und Sie werden von diesem Projekt genommen.”

 

I will not hesitate to tell Johann about your behavior, and you’ll be taken from this project.

 

“Ich werde gefeuert, wenn ich es nicht Schaffe, die standards zu erfüllen, die Schmidt erreichen will.”

 

I will be fired if I don’t make it fulfill the standards Schmidt wants to achieve.

 

“Nun, das ist dein problem, nicht wahr? Es fällt mir schwer zu glauben, dass Sie das Konzept, eine Kugel zu stoppen, nicht versteht- hast du überhaupt erklärt, was Sie tun sollte?”

 

Well that’s your problem, isn’t it? I have a hard time believing she doesn’t understand the concept of stopping a bullet- did you even explain what she should do?

 

Their voices echoed and Abraham winced at the sound. He glanced at Lucy with a frown on his lips. She tried to walk without his help, but she ended up falling against the wall, so she continued down the hall besides Abraham, his hand pressed gently against the back of her bleeding head.

 

“Die Krankenstation ist gleich um die Ecke.”

 

The infirmary is just around the corner.

 

He muttered and Lucy nodded mutely.

 

They walked down the hall and took a left, down another corridor she’d never seen before. Her eyes lingered on the long way window on her right, stretching along the entire wall. Inside she could see doctors and nurses attending to injured HYDRA agents with care, smiling and talking to the men who returned the gesture, though with a bit of pain. 

 

Lucy tilted her head away, shifting her gaze to the floor. Instead of entering the main room, Abraham walked past the glass, towards another separate window. Her heart raced and she looked at him with furrowed eyebrows of confusion.

 

“Abraham?” She whispered, feet suddenly dragging against the floor. 

 

He gave her a look of reassurance as they entered the separate room, door shutting with a quiet click behind him. There was a white hospital bed and a few IV drips sitting in the corner of the room. She kept her expression flat as she stumbled towards the bed.

 

“Hey, hey, vorsichtig.”

 

Hey, hey, careful.

 

He said, grasping her hand and guiding her to the bed.

 

Lucy sat down robotically, hands trembling in justified terror. He grabbed a hankerchief from one of the medical carts in the room and soaked it in warm water before placing it on her split lips.

 

He handed the cloth to her and she dabbed at her bloody face, a tremor travelling through her arm. Abraham seemed to realize how scared she was, and held his hands up, palm-open.

 

“Ich werde deinen Hinterkopf reinigen und sehen, aus welchen ​​Schnitt du blutest, okay? Das ist alles.”

 

I’m going to clean the back of your head and see what cut you’re bleeding from, okay? That’s all.

 

He explained softly.

 

She nodded, reminding herself Abraham gave her a choice, and did things to help her. She straightened habitually as Abraham grabbed a wash cloth soaked in alcohol. She heard him shuffle towards the bed and the hand currently unoccupied curled around the fabric of the bed sheet. Abraham sat behind her and she dabbed at her lip with hesitance.

 

“Es könnte sich etwas kalt anfühlen.”

 

It might feel a bit cold.

 

She felt him press the cloth against her head and a shiver travelled down her spine, but she didn’t move. He continued to wipe the back of her head and Lucy winced at the fiery pain travelling down her neck.

 

The door suddenly clicked open, and Lucy froze as Abraham flinched. She didn’t turn her head and waited for whoever entered to speak. She heard a sigh of relief escape Abraham’s lips and Lucy furrowed her eyebrows with confusion.

 

“Elizabeth. It’s good to see you again.” Abraham greeted in english, pulling the cloth from the back of Lucy’s head.

 

She remained still, the confusion in her eyes growing. She hadn’t heard english since she’d last seen her mother, and that was years ago. There was no reason for Abraham to speak in anything but his mother tongue, especially in this facility.

 

“Abraham please, call me Peggy. Elizabeth is such a mouthful.” A woman replied lightly with a soft british accent. 

 

Lucy lifted her gaze to see a woman in a nurses outfit, her lips tilted in a soft smile. Her eyes twinkled kindly, and her frizzy curled hair bounced as she stepped towards her. Lucy brought her shoulders inwards, unsurely letting go of the cloth in her right hand, lifting both, palm-open.

 

“That’s alright, you can put your hands down.” Elizabeth- Peggy?- said.

 

Lucy listened to the order, and lowered her hands, gripping the bed sheet tightly once again. 

 

“You can look at me if you’d like.” She offered and Lucy was so appalled she did, looking at her in disbelief.

 

“My name is Elizabeth, but I’d like it if you call me Peggy.” She said, sending a pointed look at Abraham, who smiled sheepishly.

 

Lucy opened her mouth to speak, before shutting it. She bit her tongue as Peggy clasped her hands and waited patiently. She swallowed thickly before lifting her head again and looking into Peggy’s eyes once again.

 

“I’m- My name- Lucy.” She blurted, a slight Brooklyn drawl mixed with her german accent.

 

Peggy looked mildly sad, the happy twinkle in her eyes dimming slightly. Her smile remained however, and she nodded.

 

“It’s nice to meet you Lucy.” She said.

 

Abraham folded the washcloth in his hand, which was now dyed red. Peggy took it from him and placed it in a sink, washing off the liquid. She watched silently as he stood up and grabbed the pillow on the hospital bed. He puffed it up before putting it against the bed frame. 

 

“Lean back please.” He requested and Lucy scooted back, leaning her shoulders against the bed frame.

 

Abraham held a hand out towards Peggy, who gave him a circular container with a clear ointment. Lucy stared at her hands, leaning her head forwards as Abraham carefully applied some of it to her scalp.

 

“Shouldn’t she get stitches?” Peggy questioned with genuine concern.

 

Lucy tried not to look overly surprised, careful to keep her expression indifferent. Abraham grimaced, turning his head with a frown.

 

“She heals fast.” He said and Lucy knew Abraham wasn’t saying that to think less of her wound- the damage on her head would heal in a few hours.

 

She sat patiently as Abraham stood and washed his hands in the sink. She stared ahead of her blankly, emotions churning at the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t afraid of Abraham, but she was wary of Peggy who hovered by the IV drips, eyes flickering back and forth from the door and viewing window. She was either too innocent for her job, or had an ulterior motive Lucy couldn’t figure out. 

 

Peggy’s kindness terrified her.

 

“Should you give her an IV drip?” She said finally, turning to Abraham with an unsure look. “Just in case.”

 

Peggy’s eyes wandered to the window and Lucy resisted the urge to narrow her eyes. If she wanted to give her an IV drip, the nurse could do it herself. Something was off, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. Peggy didn’t seem to have any mal intention, however, so Lucy wasn’t overly concerned. 

 

“Yes,” Abraham nodded, eyes following her gaze, “just for hydration.”

 

Lucy looked between them suspiciously, but remained silent as Peggy dragged an IV drip to the side of her bed. She didn’t glare at the clear bag as it swayed from side to side. 

 

She vaguely remembered a time when she’d fought back, nearly breaking the bones of the guards holding her down. Then a nameless nurse had stabbed a needle into her arm without finding the right vein. Whatever was in that bag wasn’t meant to travel through her muscles as it had and Lucy screamed until she couldn’t. After that, she decided it was too risky to fight against a nurse with a needle connected to something deadly.

 

So she lifted her trembling arm willingly and waited for the needle to pierce her flesh. Peggy’s hand was soft and warm against her skin. She waited patiently, but Peggy didn’t put the needle in her arm. Instead, Abraham took the needle, gently pressing it under her skin. Lucy barely felt the pinch, which was  more of a tickle. 

 

She was currently more concerned with the fact Peggy didn’t know how to give a patient an IV. If she was supposed to be a nurse, she was a terrible one.

 

“I’m sorry, but you won’t be here for much longer.” Peggy whispered softly.

 

She searched Lucy’s eyes for some sort of reaction, but she merely blinked. Escape had become something impossible, and to think of it so easily, as if she’d walk out of hell with her limbs still attached. . .Lucy liked to think she didn’t look baffled.

 

Footsteps echoed down the hall and Peggy quickly put her hand on top of the IV needle. Abraham pulled his hand away and stood while folding the middle of his lab coat on top of the other flap.

 

“Fertig?” 

 

Done?

 

Abraham said, slipping into german smoothly. 

 

Peggy stilled for a moment, standing with confusion, before she nodded with understanding. She sent him a flawless smile, eyes twinkling brightly.

 

“Ja. Dr. Erskine, wenn ich darf-”

 

Yes. Dr. Erskine, if I may-

 

German escaped Peggy’s lips, broken and accented. 

 

Lucy lowered her gaze, surprise well-hidden as the glass door pushed open. Her shoulders stiffened and her spine straightened as she lifted her hands, palm-up. 

 

“Arzt Erskine.”

 

Doctor Erskine.

 

Dr. Zola’s voice travelled through the air and Lucy’s shoulders slumped, relaxing when she was certain it wasn’t Dr. Schaffer.

 

“Arzt Zola.”

 

Doctor Zola.

 

Abraham greeted with no inflection to his tone. 

 

Lucy breathed evenly as Dr. Zola looked her over. He gave her a sharp nod and she lowered her hands, letting her fingers curl tightly around the bed sheets. His gaze settled on the IV besides her and Peggy cleared her throat as she waved towards it.

 

“Sie wird bis heute geheilt sein.”

 

She will be healed by today. 

 

Peggy said slowly, pausing at the end of her sentence. She seemed to piece together the right words before continuing, smile remaining on her face.

 

“Sie schien etwas dehydriert zu sein.”

 

She seemed a little dehydrated, 

 

She explained and Dr. Zola adjusted his glasses.

 

“Ja, danke. Du bist Wegtreten.”

 

Yes, thank you. You are dismissed.

 

Dr. Zola nodded, waving his hand at her.

 

Lucy’s eyes flickered upwards as Peggy nodded at Dr. Zola in farewell. Her eyes glinted dangerously with distaste, the emotion disappearing as she turned to look back at Lucy, who hurriedly dropped her gaze. She caught the comforting smile on Peggy’s face as the woman turned on her heel and left, shutting the door with a quiet thud.

 

“Wir sollten ihr Ruhe.”

 

We should let her rest.

 

Abraham muttered and Dr. Zola hummed.

 

“Es gibt Eintopf in der cafeteria, Arzt. Sie sollten einige versuchen.”

 

There's Eintopf in the cafeteria, Doctor. You should try some.

 

Dr. Zola’s voice had lost the warmth it had moments ago, and his suggestion sounded more like an order.

 

Lucy watched as Dr. Erskine‘s eyes flickered back and forth with hesitance. Dr. Zola’s lips curled into a threatening smile and Dr. Erskine turned on his feet, fingers fiddling together.

 

“Wir sehen uns dann morgen.”

 

I will see you tomorrow.

 

His lips quirked upwards in a half-hearted smile, and Lucy’s gaze softened as he stepped out of the room.

 

The door shut quietly, and Dr. Zola stepped besides her hospital bed. 

 

She remained silent as he grabbed a stool and sat across from her. She looked at her knees, a purple bruise peeking from the underside of her leg. 

 

“Henry ist ein psychopath, im medizinischen Sinne.”

 

Henry is a psychopath, in the medical sense.

 

Dr. Zola started.

 

“Sein Sinn für richtig und falsch ist Durcheinander und sein gewissen ist schwach. Er wird tun, was er will, wenn er will. Aber. . .das entschuldigt seine Taten nicht. Ich entschuldige mich, aber ich bezweifle, dass Ihnen eine Entschuldigung etwas bedeutet.”

 

His sense of right and wrong is muddled and his conscience is weak. He will do what he wants when he wants. But. . .that doesn’t excuse his actions. I apologize but I doubt an apology means anything to you.

 

Dr. Zola continued, leaning back with his hands clasped together. Lucy’s eyebrow twitched, acknowledging his words but remaining disinterested.

 

He ducked his head to catch her gaze, staring at her with unrelenting curiosity. Her eyes flickered away and Dr. Zola breathed a sigh, shifting in his seat.

 

“Henry denkt, du bist kaputt. Aber er ist ein Genie in der Wissenschaft, nicht in Emotionen.”

 

Henry believes you’ve broken. But he is a genius at science, not in emotions.

 

Dr. Zola stated and she snapped her head up, tilting her head as his smile melted into a tight-lipped grimace. She felt a shudder travel down her spine, and her heart thumped against her chest at a deafening pace. 

 

“Sie hören zu, Sie erfüllen, aber Sie sind nicht gebrochen. Sie akzeptieren, was HYDRA tut, aber Ihre Akzeptanz endet, wenn der Schmerz jemand anderem als Ihnen zugefügt wird. Bei dieser Geschwindigkeit führt Ihre Weigerung, drei Kugeln in eine person zu stecken, zu Ihrem Tod. ”

 

You listen, you comply, but you are not broken. You accept what HYDRA does but your acceptance ends when the pain is inflicted on someone other than you. At this rate, your refusal to put three bullets in a person will result in your death.

 

He finished and Lucy’s blood ran cold.

 

Dr. Zola knew she hadn’t lost her sanity. He knew she only listened to them so her survival was guaranteed. He knew they failed to crumble her morals and beliefs. She had planned her escape everyday, knowing an opportunity would appear sooner or later- and he knew. 

 

She drew in a sharp breath and raised her chin defiantly, eyes gleaming with bold confidence.

 

“Ich weigere mich, meinen Geist von jemandem gebrochen zu werden,der sich eher wie ein Tier verhält als Tiere selbst.”

 

I refuse to have my mind broken by someone who behaves more like an animal than animals themselves.

 

She said, before tilting her head.

 

“Wollen Sie mir Angst machen, Arzt?”

 

Are you trying to scare me, Doctor?

 

She questioned, her voice empty.

 

Dr. Zola’s grimace turned into a small smile and he crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head.

 

“Nein, Nein, überhaupt nicht. Sie sehen, das serum, das Sie erhalten haben, gibt Ihnen nicht nur diese Gaben, sondern verbessert auch Ihren Geist. Gut wird groß, schlecht wird schlimmer. Mit anderen Worten, ihrer moralisch und Emotionen sind. . .intensiv. Ihrer Bereitschaft, die Waffe zu werden, die Schmidt will, ist. . .minimal, wenn nicht, veraltet. Wenn bekannt ist, dass Sie nicht gebrochen sind, werden Sie alles tun, um Sie zu brechen.”

 

No, no, not at all. You see, the serum you received does not only give you these gifts, but it enhances your mind as well. Good becomes great, bad becomes worse. In other words, your morals and emotions are. . .intense. Your willingness to become the weapon Schmidt wants is. . .minimal, if not, obsolete. If it is known that you aren’t broken they will do anything to break you.

 

His smile twisted and his expression turned sour. 

 

Lucy lowered her chin and eyed him with curiosity. He stood from his stool and put his hands in his pockets, shrugging slightly.

 

“Sie werden deine Freunde töten. Sie werden deine Familie töten. Und wenn nichts mehr übrig ist Sie nehmen alles, was du bist und lassen nichts als ein Geist von dem, was du warst.”

 

They will kill your friends. They will kill your family. And when there is nothing left they will take everything you are and leave nothing but a ghost of what you were.

 

He continued, tilting his head.

 

His voice was awfully bitter and Lucy couldn’t help but wonder if Dr. Zola wasn’t here on his own accord. If he was, his acceptance of the violence around him was cowardly, and Lucy’s sympathy turned into vague pity. 

 

From her experience she knew HYDRA worked on exchange- in return for her cooperation she was treated somewhat fairly, and they would let her live. She wondered if it applied to Dr. Zola as well. 

 

“Sie. . .”

 

You. . .

 

She started, trailing off.

 

Dr. Zola waved his hand as if he was swatting the subject away, and Lucy habitually shut her mouth. 

 

“Morgen treffen Sie Johann Schmidt. Er ist der Mann, der HYDRA führt, und er ist streng. Ich werde Ihnen nichts sagen, solange Sie darauf achten, ausdruckslos zu bleiben. Verstanden?”

 

Tomorrow you will meet Johann Schmidt. He is the man who leads HYDRA, and he is strict. I will tell them nothing as long as you are careful to remain expressionless. Understood?

 

He said sharply, and Lucy’s eyes widened with surprise.

 

A relieved sigh escaped her lips when she realized he wasn’t going to tell anyone about her humaneness. She swallowed and wasted no time responding.

 

“Verstehen.”

 

Understood.

 

She said, her voice content for the first time in months.

 

“Du kannst nicht perfekt sein. Aber du kannst so tun.”

 

You cannot be perfect. But you can pretend.

 

Dr. Zola hummed as he opened the glass door, stepping past the doorway.

 

“Vorgeben.”

 

Pretend.

 

She echoed.

 

“Du bist exzellent darin, nicht wahr?”

 

You’re excellent at that, aren’t you?

 

She was.

Chapter 4: Three

Notes:

For more accurate translations from english to German, read the Wattpad version! I edited two different versions unfortunately.

"We can know only that we know nothing.” 

Bavaria, Germany

December, 1939

 

HER EARS RANG AS Dr. Zola pointed a gun at the ground. His eyes were bright with satisfaction, lips curved in a proud smile. Lucy breathed deeply as her heart palpitated in her chest, adrenaline rushing through her veins. Miniscule piles of dust littered the ground in several different areas, each pile representative of the bullets once flying through the air. 

 

All she needed to do was tear the bullet inside out and rearrange their molecular structures- she could turn things to dust. If she’d known that the other day she wouldn’t have landed herself in the infirmary or anywhere near the hospital ward. 

 

She winced as a headache sped through her head, and Dr. Zola tilted his head back to look up at her.

 

The air around her buzzed as she moved one foot forward, the bottom of her feet hitting nothing but air. She stumbled, and Abraham moved to stand beneath her, eyebrows furrowed with worry, eyes glinting with awe. Her eyes narrowed with concentration and sweat trickled down her forehead as she held her hands out, tearing the air’s molecular structure and forming it into something denser. The chemical concoction was invisible beneath her feet and it looked as though she was floating. 

 

Abraham slowly stepped to the side, looking hesitant. 

 

Lucy regained her balance and let herself lower to the ground, staring at her feet. With hesitance her eyes flickered across every molecule, checking and fixing the mistakes of her calculations. She heard the door to the room open and looked up for a split second. In the brief moment she caught sight of Dr. Schaffer, the toxins beneath her feet returned to its natural state and she let out a justified shriek as she fell four feet in the air, knees smacking into the ground with a crack.

 

Abraham rushed to her side as a pained groan escaped her lips. Dr. Schaffer stepped over towards Dr. Zola with a clipboard in hand. He shifted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, tucking his gun into his lab coat and speaking to Dr. Schaffer quietly. 

 

“Geht es dir gut?”

 

Are you alright?

 

Abraham muttered and she nodded wordlessly, pulling matted hair behind her ear.

 

Dr. Zola turned on his heel, a pleased smile on his face as he marched towards the pair. Abraham stiffened as if he was expecting a blow, and Lucy found herself scrambling onto her feet, hands clasped behind her back. She pushed Abraham behind her as Dr. Schaffer followed behind Dr. Zola. 

 

“Ein Ruhetag war alles, was Sie brauchten, ja?”

 

A day of rest was all you needed, yes?

 

Dr. Zola hummed contentedly and Lucy nodded her head sharply, eyes lowered in submission.

 

Dr. Schaffer looked mildly offended, but his hands remained crossed over his chest. She kept her breath steady as Dr. Zola beckoned her towards the door.

 

“Komm, du wirst Schmidt treffen.”

 

Come, you will meet Schmidt.

 

He said and Dr. Schaffer’s lips curled upwards in a cruel smirk.

 

Abraham stiffened further besides her, and Lucy swallowed thickly, careful to keep her eyes expressionless. She remembered Dr. Zola’s warning and was intent on following his advice. He turned and stepped towards the exit with Dr. Schaffer, and Lucy moved to follow. Abraham grabbed her arm and she paused, tilting her head to see a frantic look in his eyes. 

 

“Vielleicht sollten wir nicht-“

 

Maybe we shouldn’t-

 

Abraham started anxiously, eyes flickering back and forth between both doctors. 

 

Dr. Schaffer sent him a deadly glare and Abraham gulped, adjusting his glasses as he turned to Dr. Zola. The shorter man raised an eyebrow, before shaking his head.

 

“Schmidt ist seit Monaten Dünn im Terminkalender. Sie hat keine Mängel.”

 

Schmidt has been on a tight schedule for months. She has no defects. 

 

He said with a hint of pride and Lucy stilled as Dr. Schaffer took a step towards Abraham.

 

“You don’t need to come unless you want to, Doctor.”

 

He smiled, teeth glinting threateningly. 

 

Abraham kept his terror at bay, clearing his throat. He let go of Lucy’s arm and she tucked it behind her back once again. Dr. Zola opened the door and Lucy stepped past the doorway in silence. She was vaguely surprised by the lack of guards as the three scientists led her down the hall. 

 

Abraham managed to look apologetic, terrified, and relieved all at the same time. 

 

They turned right down an unfamiliar hall, and passed a group of nurses who smiled and waved pleasantly. She caught the gaze of Peggy who nodded at her in greeting. Lucy’s lips twitched and Peggy’s eyes twinkled brightly at the miniscule action. Lucy turned her head away from her as Dr. Zola stopped in front of a glass door, pulling it open. Lucy’s lips pressed into a thin line as they entered a huge training room used recreationally by any and all agents who decided to train.

 

Her eyes lowered to the ground as she felt the men stare at her with curiosity and caution. The agents who were sparring stopped, and Lucy caught sight of a man loitering with a few other high-ranking officials from the Wehrmacht. One of them had a red band tied around his arm, a swastika symbol embroidered with perfection. 

 

“Herr Schmidt!”

 

Schmidt!

 

Dr. Zola called as they neared them, and the tallest of the men turned with a calculating look. 

 

Johann Schmidt was practically muscle and nothing else. His dark hair was combed to one side, slicked back with gel. His eyebrows seemed to be raised permanently, head tilted half an inch with arrogance. 

 

Lucy eyed the red skull embroidered on the sleeve of his black uniform, and wondered why HYDRA had a different symbol then the Wehrmacht. She didn’t have much time to ponder on the thought as his gaze settled on her. 

 

She felt self-conscious for the first time in months, and had the urge to look a bit more presentable. She inwardly snarled at the thought, pressing them to the furthest parts of her mind. She didn’t need the man’s acceptance, and she wouldn’t ever want it.

 

“Arnim, wie ich sehe, hast du unseren neuesten Soldaten mitgebracht.”

 

Arnim, I see you have brought our newest Soldier.

 

Schmidt said with a nod of approval.

 

Dr. Zola smiled, adjusted his glasses, then stepped to the side.

 

Lucy took that as her cue to step forward and did so, lifting her gaze just enough to catch sight of Schmidt’s chin. She didn’t dare look directly into his eyes, knowing submission was what the man wanted to see. Schmidt threatened to tower over her, and the officials besides him looked at her with distaste. 

 

She wasn’t awfully surprised when the man with the red swastika scoffed.

 

“Eine Frau? Sie wählten eine Frau zu Ihrem geschätzter Soldaten?”

 

A woman? You chose a woman as your treasured soldier?

 

He said and Abraham grunted quietly at the reaction, frowning with disapproval. 

 

Lucy resisted the urge to smile and kept her face blank. She watched as Schmidt’s eyebrow twitched, turning to the man with a smile growing increasingly threatening. The man remained unphased and Dr. Zola scoffed, causing him to spin on his feet and stare at him challengingly.

 

“Das serum, das wir geschaffen haben, funktioniert am besten bei Frauen mit der seltensten Blutgruppe auf dem Planeten, Herr Roeder.”

 

The serum we’ve created works best on women with the rarest blood type on the planet, Roeder.

 

Dr. Zola spoke sharply, eyes narrowed. 

 

Lucy realized that must’ve been another reason why she was chosen by the Wehrmacht and HYDRA. Of the thirty-two women Lucy had seen, all had blonde hair and blue eyes- traits of Aryan superiority- an IQ level higher than two hundred, and supposedly a blood type of Rhnull. 

 

The other women had been formidable opponents- she’d fought all of them once before, travelling upwards in the ranks at a grueling pace- but considering any of them as friends would hinder her chance of survival, so she’d never personally spoke to them. It wasn’t a choice she had anymore, since the other subjects were dead. 

 

She’d taken the title of highest rank and Subject 015 had been executed, cremated, and thrown down the chute Lucy had seen in the lab. If not for her docility and obedience, Lucy would’ve been the one shot, burned, and turned to dust, mingling with the other forgotten HYDRA victims. 

 

She suppressed a shudder as Roeder raised his eyebrows.

 

“Und warum ist das so?”

 

And why is that?

 

He snapped.

 

Schmidt let out a small humorless chuckle, and Lucy double checked her stance, keeping her back as straight as possible, hands stiffly by her sides. 

 

“Männliche Hormone bekämpfen das serum, als wäre es eine Krankheit. Ich würde sagen, die Anatomie einer Frau ist in diesem Zusammenhang überlegen, Herr Roeder. Lassen Sie sich nicht vom Feminismus einer Frau täuschen. Das könnte dich umbringen.”

 

Male hormones fight the serum as if it were a disease. I would say a female’s anatomy is superior in this context, Herr Roeder. Do not be deceived by a woman’s feminism. That could kill you.

 

He said and if this was any other situation, Lucy would’ve applauded his words. 

 

“Ich sehe nichts besonderes in dieser Frau.”

 

I see nothing special in this woman.

 

The man besides him said with a condescending look, and Lucy’s only reaction was flexing her hands. 

 

“Nun, meine Herren, möchten Sie Sie in Aktion sehen?”

 

Well, gentlemen, would you like to see her in action?

 

Schmidt smiled and Lucy decided he was a better man than Dr. Schaffer- not that it meant he was a good man- but at least he referred to her as a soldier, not an object.

 

The third man standing besides them stared at her before crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“Wie ist dein name?”

 

What’s your name?

 

He questioned and Lucy felt her heartbeat drum at a faster pace.

 

If she was allowed to answer his question she had no idea what she was supposed to call herself. Her name was supposed to be long forgotten and saying it would bring imminent death.

 

Her gaze remained focused near Schmidt and she could feel him look at her. Deciding the Wehrmacht man didn’t have clearance to speak to her, she kept her lips sealed, waiting for an order from either the doctor’s, or Schmidt himself. She caught sight of his lip twitching upwards with amusement as the man impatiently waited for her to answer.

 

“Die Agenten hier nennen Sie den Verfall Soldat.”

 

The agents here call her the Decay Soldier.

 

Schmidt said and Lucy’s nose threatened to scrunch with distaste. 

 

It was a fitting name for her abilities, but not for herself. She was named Lucille after her grandmother, and the name was hers since the day her mother realized she was pregnant. “Lucy” had become a childhood nickname and she’d be damned if she ever forgot it. 

 

She could give up her freedom, but her name was hers- always.

 

“Verfall? Was zum Teufel soll das bedeuten?”

 

Decay? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

 

The man besides Roeder huffed.

 

Schmidt didn’t answer, instead eyeing Lucy thoughtfully.

 

“Soldat.”

 

Soldier.

 

Schmidt said sharply and Lucy instantly straightened her neck.

 

She lifted her head so her nose was horizontal to the ground, shifting her legs slightly and widening her stance. Her gaze rested on his lips and she waited for an order, intent on appeasing him. If she wanted to survive, Schmidt would have to see every trait he wanted in her, and she was determined to live.

 

Schmidt pulled a gun from his hip holster, and Lucy inwardly relaxed- this was something she was familiar with. 

 

He lifted it and pointed it between her eyes. The men besides him looked horrified and Roeder cleared his throat.

 

“Schmidt was sind-“

 

Schmidt what are-

 

He started and Schmidt turned to look at him.

 

“Sie behaupten, Sie sei nutzlos.”

 

You claim she is useless.

 

Schmidt stated, tilting his gun slightly, and Roeder frowned deeply.

 

He didn’t reply and Schmidt turned his attention to Lucy. She could feel his eyes pierce through her skull and she swallowed thickly, finger twitching unnoticeably.

 

“Stoppen Sie diese Kugel.”

 

Stop this bullet.

 

Schmidt said, smiling smugly as the men besides him scoffed in disbelief. 

 

Lucy nodded her head once, eyes forever trained on the barrel of the gun.

 

He cocked it and Lucy closed her eyes, hardly a blink as she turned on her abilities. She waited patiently for him to pull the trigger and when he did, the sound was sharp like a clap of thunder, gunpowder flying through the air. The men looked terrified and Lucy managed not to roll her eyes. The bullet melted into dust before it could touch the tip of her forehead, metallic glitter dropping to the ground in tiny clumps. 

 

Schmidt’s smile widened and there was a flicker of awe in his eyes. Lucy clasped her hands behind her back and lowered her gaze as the men around him looked at her with wide eyes of shock.

 

“Das ist nicht möglich.”

 

This is not possible.

 

Roeder muttered and Schmidt bent down, swiping his hand over the dust. 

 

He held up his fingers, pinched his thumb to his pointer, and rubbed them together. When he pulled his fingers apart, his skin was covered in powdered metal, reflecting the ceiling light. His smile had turned into a proud grin and he turned to the men besides him.

 

“Das ist genug Beweis ja? Dass wir Waffen erschaffen haben?”

 

That’s enough proof, yes? That we have created weapons?

 

Schmidt questioned, and the men nodded slowly, mouths agape as they stared at her.

 

She didn’t shift under their gaze, remaining still. Dr. Zola’s shoulder slumped slightly as he relaxed, and Dr. Schaffer smirked at the Wehrmacht men. She felt a hand brush against her arm and almost jumped. She could see Abraham in her peripheral vision, and her hammering heart slowly calmed. She’d forgotten Abraham was still in the room, and he looked tired as well as terrified. It was a sad sight to see, and Lucy wished she could help him escape this place. 

 

She didn’t listen to Schmidt gloat to the other men about how successful his experiments were- though she wanted to point out the work had been done by his three other scientists, more specifically Abraham- and she barely noticed him dismiss the men.

 

The agents in the room who had once been training had left earlier, and she realized no one, not even Schmidt’s own colleagues, wanted to be in the same room with him.

 

Nothing escaped her lips and she was careful not cower under Schmidt’s gaze as he turned to Abraham, Dr. Zola, and Dr. Schaffer.

 

“Ich muss Ihnen gratulieren, Arnim, Henry. . .Erskine.”

 

I must congratulate you, Arnim, Henry. . .Erskine.

 

Schmidt said with a pleased smile, eyes glinting dangerously at Abraham, who ducked his head and nodded.

 

Lucy easily noticed how Schmidt thought less of Abraham as a person. She knew he was useful to Schmidt, but too kind-hearted for his taste. The fact she could feel the guilt on Abraham’s shoulders didn’t help at all, and she had the urge to hug him. 

 

She didn’t.

 

“Wir haben einen Durchbruch geschafft, Herr Schmidt. Es kann Fliegen.”

 

We have made a breakthrough, Schmidt. It can fly.

 

Dr. Schaffer said pleasantly, and Schmidt’s eyes glimmered with curiosity.

 

Lucy didn’t swear at the doctor as she shifted slightly on her feet, unable to stop the anxious tremor travelling through her arms- flying, as he put it, was not something she’d perfected, and she did not want to fall in front of Schmidt.

 

The man noticed and he hummed for a moment, before shaking his head.

 

“Vielleicht kannst du es mir ein anderes mal zeigen.”

 

Maybe you can show me another time.

 

He said to Dr. Schaffer who shrugged at the suggestion.

 

He didn’t press further on the topic and Schmidt looked between the three scientists.

 

“Macht eine Pause, Ihr alle. Du kannst gehen.”

 

Take a break all of you. You’re dismissed.

 

He said with a nod of approval.

 

Dr. Schaffer whistled in delight and his lips twisted upwards in content. The smile, Lucy noticed, did not reach his eyes.

 

“Danke, Schmidt. Ich schlage Ihnen einen toast vor.”

 

Thank you, Schmidt. I’ll propose a toast for you.

 

Dr. Schaffer said nonchalantly, and Lucy half expected Schmidt to scowl at him for his casualness. 

 

Instead, the intimidating man chuckled and nodded with the first genuine smile she saw on his face.

 

“Hail HYDRA.” Dr. Schaffer said in accented english.

 

“Hail HYDRA.” He replied with a similar accent, and Dr. Schaffer spun on his heel.

 

Dr. Zola sighed as the man exited the room, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“Du willst, dass Sie bleibt?”

 

You want her to stay?

 

He questioned, pointing towards Lucy who swallowed nervously.

 

Abraham opened his mouth to object the idea.

 

“Sie bleibt.”

 

She stays. 

 

He agreed, and Dr. Zola turned, then paused.

 

“Hail HYDRA.” He muttered with less enthusiasm then Dr. Schaffer.

 

Schmidt seemed to assume the man was tired.

 

“Hail HYDRA.” He repeated.

 

Dr. Zola continued on his way, leaving the room in quick footsteps. Lucy watched as his fingers wrapped around Abraham’s thin forearm, dragging him backwards. Her eyelid twitched as Abraham stumbled on his feet, looking at her with concern. Dr. Zola pulled him out of the room and the door shut with a quiet click.

 

Lucy felt hauntingly alone, and she kept her face as expressionless as possible when Schmidt turned to look at her. He hummed softly under his breath, the only sound reverberating in the room.

 

“Wie haben Sie dich genannt? Lucille? Lucy? Soldat? Verfall?”

 

What do they call you? Lucille? Lucy? Soldier? Decay?

 

He questioned slowly, as if she was mentally deficient.

 

She wasn’t surprised he knew her name- HYDRA knows everything rang in her head- but she was definitely concerned about what he’d asked.

 

She’d learned questions were used easily to trap her in every possible way. If she answered wrong, it would end in punishment. If she answered right, it could be the right answer, but the incorrect response. Answer right- be punished. Answer wrong- be punished. 

 

Abraham called her Lucy. Peggy called her Lucy. Dr. Zola called her Lucy. Dr. Schaffer called her an it, or a weapon. And Schmidt seemed to think of her as a person, but Lucy was her name and that most definitely was not the right answer. Lucy didn’t sigh as she decided to go with the safest option.

 

“Soldat.”

 

Soldier.

 

She said clearly, tone blank. 

 

“Ja, nun, ich denke, das passt.”

 

Yes, well, I think that’s fitting. 

 

He said with approval.

 

Silence settled between them and Lucy knew he was watching her every move, from every breath she took, to every twitch of her hand. She wondered what Schmidt was thinking of, but said nothing. 

 

He paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing across the vast gym. She wasn’t quite afraid of him yet, and she didn’t want to have a reason to be afraid. 

 

“Du redest nicht viel, oder?”

 

You don’t talk much, do you?

 

He asked, and Lucy hoped the question was rhetorical.

 

It wasn’t.

 

She swallowed thickly and wracked her brain to remember what she had been conditioned to say.

 

“Ich spreche, wenn es mir gesagt wird, sir.”

 

I speak when I am told, sir.

 

She felt like it was very necessary to tack on ‘sir’.

 

“Und das stört Sie nicht?”

 

And that doesn’t bother you?

 

He prompted and Lucy shook her head.

 

“Negativ, sir.”

 

Negative, sir.

 

She said smoothly, and Schmidt’s lips curved with amusement.

 

“Was ist Ihr Zweck hier, Soldat?”

 

What is your purpose here, Soldier?

 

He continued, and Lucy blinked.

 

“Ich dienen als Hydras arsenal, wenn ich gebraucht werde.”

 

I serve as HYDRA’s arsenal when I am needed.

 

She answered without skipping a beat.

 

“Ist es das, was du willst?”

 

Is that what you want?

 

Lucy almost blurted a sharp yes, but paused before she could speak the word. The question was oddly suspicious and Lucy knew it was a trick. As a person it was instinct to want and desire something. As a Soldier, less so. As a weapon, nothing. 

 

She didn’t know what was crueler- to admit she is not supposed to have wants, or to reply with a snarky yes anyway. 

 

She breathed in deeply 

 

“Ich habe keine möchte, sir.”

 

I do not have wants, sir.

 

She said, reciting the words from memory.

 

Schmidt grinned, and she stiffened as he tucked a finger under her chin, pushing her head upwards. She stared straight into eyes that were as black as blue could be, piercing through her soul.

 

“Was ist dein Platz in der Welt?”

 

What is your place in the world?

 

He asked softly, as if he were speaking to a child.

 

He tilted her head to the side and climbed her throat as she stopped a shudder from travelling up her spine. Instead of throwing up, she lowered her gaze and spoke monotonously.

 

“Ich habe keinen Platz auf der Welt.”

 

I have no place in the world.

Chapter 5: Four

"Difficult roads lead to beautiful destinations.”

Weimar, Germany

April, 1940

THE FIRST LOCK ON Lucy’s door clicked open, and she startled awake. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at the empty ceiling before pulling herself into a sitting position. Her cell had become more of a room- there was a desk besides the farthest corner and a chair pushed into place. She was currently laying on a thin cot with a soft blanket pulled to her chest, a small pillow inches from her hand. The accommodations had been offered by Peggy and agreed with by Abraham and Dr. Zola, then approved by Schmidt who seemed evermore pleased by her continuous compliance.

 

Lucy vaguely missed her simple factory job and tiny apartment home, living a stressed but modest life. Work had been grueling and keeping a roof over her head in depression era Germany had been tiring, but she had a choice on how to live. Now she followed a tight schedule that was physically and mentally exhausting, fearful of making a mistake of any kind.

 

A sigh escaped her lips as she swung her legs over the side of her cot, pulling the blanket off of her and folding it gently between her arms. The last lock clicked and she looked up as the door pushed open with a quiet creak. She straightened, holding her hands open-palmed as Abraham stepped inside, eyes flickering back and forth. 

 

She  tilted her head curiously as Peggy walked in besides him, holding a tray of food in one hand while dragging an IV drip behind her.

 

She let her shoulders slump, relaxing as best she could, knowing Abraham became overly regretful and guilty whenever she treated him like the other scientists or agents. He shut the door behind him and stepped over towards Lucy with a soft smile on his lips. 

 

“Good morning, Lucy.” He said, accented english ringing odd in her ears.

 

She nodded in response, and Abraham grabbed the chair besides her desk, pulling it across the cot she was sitting on. She watched Peggy walk towards her, before stopping in front of her cot. Lucy automatically moved over, assuming she wanted to sit, but Peggy turned to her instead, a polite smile on her lips.

 

“Is it alright if I sit here?” She asked softly, and it took Lucy a few seconds to realize she was asking for her permission.

 

She blinked awkwardly before nodding silently. Peggy’s smile softened and she sat down, holding the tray towards her. Lucy’s eyes scanned the tray and she was pleasantly surprised by the bowl of gnocchi and potato soup. There was a slice of bread besides it with a small bowl of salad. 

 

Lucy conveniently ignored the IV drip looming threateningly besides the nurse.

 

She grabbed the tray and put it on her lap, taking the spoon besides it. She brought a spoonful of gnocchi to her lips, pausing when she noticed no one gave her a directive to start eating. She tried not to feel paranoid as she ate by herself, waiting for either visitor to talk.

 

“It was the best food we could sneak in.” Peggy said, sounding like she was offering a conversation starter.

 

Lucy hadn’t thanked someone in. . .had it been a year? And the words felt foreign in her mouth so she only nodded in acknowledgement.

 

She continued to eat, careful to balance the tray. Once she finished the bowl of gnocchi she grabbed the slice of bread and tried not to scarf it down in one bite. Abraham cleared his throat, leaning forwards in his chair and Lucy stopped, bread in her mouth.

 

“Lucy,” he started softly, “Peggy and I came here today because HYDRA wants to use you on the field.”

 

Lucy straightened her back, chewing the rest of her bread before swallowing it. She waited for Abraham to continue and his gaze dropped to the floor, fiddling his fingers together.

 

“Dr. Schaffer informed Schmidt you have not been capable of incapacitating someone and Dr. Zola tried his best to let him know you are not ready, but Schmidt is impatient. Next Monday he will be testing your skills ranging from hand-to-hand combat, weapon handling, and molecular manipulation. He will expect you to kill a target, and failure to do so will put you through intense dehumanization therapy.” He said, adjusting his glasses. 

 

His voice was steady but his eyes seemed frantic, barely keeping himself together. Killing for HYDRA was in her best interest- she’d heard that a thousand times- but never expected Abraham to imply he thought the same. 

 

She stared at him for a moment, before putting her tray to the side, hands clasping together.

 

“Do you- möchten- want. Want me to kill, Abraham?” She asked, swallowing thickly.

 

She never stopped to think Abraham’s kindness had been a trick, and she desperately wished her predictions were wrong. She was afraid of betrayal, but also her own stupidity and overwhelming compassion. Disappointment threatened to riddle her features as her heart thumped anxiously. 

 

She knew it was inevitable for him to crumble from the pressure of the facility, but she didn’t want to think Abraham would ever stoop as low as killing someone. 

 

“Nein, no that is not what I’m asking of you.” He said firmly, shaking his head.

 

Lucy’s shoulders slumped with relief.

 

“We’re here to warn you.” Peggy said, and Lucy turned to face her.

 

Peggy was wearing her nurse uniform- as always- and her lips were pressed into a thin line. Her eyes were warm but calculating, and Lucy noticed she held herself more like a soldier than a member of the medical staff. She disliked the scientists here, was remarkably friendly with Abraham, and promised escape, even if the thought was futile. 

 

She was the most suspicious HYDRA nurse Lucy ever met, and she decided that was a good thing.

 

Peggy caught her gaze and Lucy resisted the urge to narrow her eyes as she looked away. 

 

“You’re not a nurse.” Lucy stated with minimal confidence, and Peggy nodded her head in confirmation.

 

“I’m an SSR agent- strategic science reserve- working undercover for both American and British intelligence. I was sent here under the pretense that the Axis powers have been creating a weapon.” She frowned, brows furrowing. “I was supposed to dismantle it, however, I did not know ‘it’ was a person.”

 

Lucy wondered if Peggy would even be capable of killing any of the prior subjects and get away with it. HYDRA’s policies were strict and Peggy was only a nurse, so her level of clearance was minimal. 

 

Unless, she was able to gain Schmidt’s trust.

 

Lucy swatted the thought away and wondered why she was still alive. Peggy could’ve killed her in multiple ways- eight ways, to be exact- and she would’ve dismantled the weapon HYDRA had spent years on. Peggy should’ve killed her months ago and completed her mission- it was the right thing to do. 

 

But she didn’t. 

 

Lucy’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion and Abraham seemed to be expecting the expression. 

 

“She decided to make a different decision.” Abraham explained.

 

Peggy nodded, her lips twitching upwards in a bitter smile.

 

“You give me too much credit, Doctor.” Peggy said. “You seemed so willing that I. . .regretfully have to say I wasn’t going to spare you. But I realized rather easily that you were a prisoner.”

 

Lucy winced at the word- she liked to think she wasn’t a prisoner, even if she was. The thought of being here out of free will put her conscience to rest, even if it was false. 

 

She nodded in understanding, and Peggy continued. 

 

“I’ve been planning to escape with Abraham since the moment I knew his current predicament.” She said slowly, and Lucy felt her heart twinge with envy as well as fear.

 

She breathed a shuddering breath, lowering her gaze.

 

“You’re leaving.” She muttered and Peggy breathed sharply. 

 

“No.” She said firmly and Lucy flinched at the sudden change of tone in her voice.

 

Peggy shot her an apologetic look identical to Dr. Zola’s, and Lucy expected her to keep speaking as if nothing happened. 

 

She cleared her throat, clasping her hands together.

 

“Sorry- I just- we won’t leave without you.” She said and Lucy was mildly surprised she verbally apologized.

 

Then she registered the rest of her sentence and tilted her head with confusion. 

 

She was a liability to their escape and dragging her along would only lower their chances of escape. Sure, she was afraid to be in the facility without Abraham, and distraught with the fact the pair had a chance to escape, but she wasn’t selfish enough to foil their plans by tagging along.

 

“I contacted my division’s Colonel, Chester Phillips, and he’s sent back a telegram informing me of a rendezvous point that can be accessed in June. The only problem we have,” Peggy waved her hand at the IV drip she’d brought with her, “is this.” 

 

Abraham nodded in agreement.

 

“You’ve been conditioned to be severely codependent on a chemical solution containing the nine most toxic chemicals known to man. That in itself is alarming, and the primary reason as to why everyone you’ve trained with has died.” He said and Lucy swallowed nervously at the thought.

 

Her body had been more resilient than the others and she inwardly praised her mother and father for the genes they passed on to her. 

 

If not for them, she would definitely be dead. 

 

“It, however, also contains a compound- extremely rare- that only Dr. Zola knows. Your body is,” he waved his hand as he thought of the right english word before sighing, “süchtig to it, and you will experience drug withdrawal that is life-threatening. I can make an incomplete solution, but you must be ah, entwöhnen the original first, otherwise your body will not react well.”

 

Lucy looked down at her hands, scrunching her nose at whatever was travelling through her bloodstream.

 

“Your chance of survival significantly decreases without at least a month’s supply of pre-made solution. Thankfully, Dr. Zola dislikes Abraham and wishes him gone. He, also, doesn’t think your help in the war is necessary.” Peggy continued and Lucy raised her eyebrows.

 

Abraham ran a hand through his hair, frowning.

 

“Dr. Zola thinks Schmidt is narcissistic. He follows HYDRA’s beliefs but not the man that leads them. He admires your strength and he wants to salvage it.” He offered as an explanation.

 

Lucy, for the record, didn’t gawk. The thought of Dr. Zola wanting to save her the pain of being broken just because he admired her strength was ridiculous. 

 

She did think it was possible her freedom would ease his conscience so, maybe he was explainable.

 

“Salvage it.” She blinked slowly. “He wants to salvage what he helped destroy.”

 

“If it were up to me I would lock him in prison and throw away the bloody key. But, he’s offered to pre-make a month's supply of the solution, and we need the help.” Peggy frowned bitterly. “The supply will be ready in late October. I’ve been keeping track of Schmidt’s cargo transport patterns, and November is the only month, apart from June, that vehicles are permitted to leave this facility. It will be the only other time we will be able to meet at a rendezvous point with Colonel Phillips.”

 

Lucy understood what she was saying but it was difficult for her to hope. Hoping itself was dangerous but hoping to escape was even worse.

 

“So,” Abraham cleared his throat, “assuming you will not kill a man, you must survive at least another seven months in psychological therapy. They will call it treatment- I call it torture.”

 

Lucy breathed deeply, tapping her fingers together- one, two, pause, one, two, three, pause.

 

She shifted in her seat, heart beating rapidly in her chest.

 

“Your survival rate will be one hundred percent, but I cannot say the same for your mind.” Abraham said softly.

 

Her life was worth more than her mind and, even if her mind broke, it could always be put back together. The thought lingered through her head and she tried to muster up the little courage she had.

 

“The consequence is not death, and escape will be guaranteed.” She muttered under her breath.

 

The pair nodded grimly and Lucy chewed on the inside of her lip.

 

“I don’t want to kill anyone.” She whispered. “And I’ve survived until now, haven’t I?”

 

Peggy cleared her throat.

 

“It’s your choice, Lucy.”

 

She breathed deeply and wiped her clammy hands on her shorts. She didn’t want to think of how things could be worse, but she had no doubt HYDRA could make this feel like heaven.

 

She was very capable of killing someone- snap someone’s neck, tear them apart from the inside out- but she couldn’t have blood on her hands, nor could she be the last thing someone saw before they died. 

 

She wouldn’t become heartless, and that was her problem as much as theirs.

 

“Okay.” She said with a nod and a shaky breath. “Okay.”

 

Peggy looked as though she wanted to say something, but a sharp knock on the door stopped her. She paused and sent Abraham a sharp look. 

 

Lucy stiffened as the door pushed open. She held her hands in front of her, open-palmed as Dr. Zola pushed his head inside.

 

He scanned the room before narrowing his eyes at the unused IV drip, frowning.

 

“Give her the IV, nurse.” He said, before turning to Abraham. “You, we need to sprechen und diskutieren die Super-Soldaten serum.”

 

Abraham breathed shakily and his hands trembled as he nodded. He walked towards the entrance and Lucy noticed he was visibly paler than before. She wondered what the super soldier serum was supposed to be- would there be more of her?- but she said nothing.

 

Dr. Zola shot her a pleased smile before shutting the door.

 

Deciding not to worry about Abraham she turned to Peggy who grabbed the IV drip and pursed her lips. Her brows furrowed as she grabbed the needle with one hand, the other grasping Lucy’s slender arm.

 

“So I- I took a medical course for nursing in college.” She muttered, biting her lip. “But well- it was just an introductory course so I don’t really-“

 

Lucy wondered how Schmidt or Dr. Schaffer hadn’t noticed Peggy’s inability to do her job, but she quickly noted Schmidt was a busy man and didn’t have time to care about his nurses.

 

“Ich- I can do it.” She said quietly and Peggy blinked.

 

She nervously ran her tongue along the bottom row of her teeth, hoping she hadn’t stepped out of line. She didn’t particularly know the rules and boundaries Peggy had, nor did she think treating her like HYDRA would be polite.

 

She waited until Peggy put the needle in her hand, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

 

Peggy sat back down on the cot and Lucy inspected her expression. She was relieved to see Peggy wasn’t upset- though her cheeks were tinted a rosy red. Lucy realized she was embarrassed and quickly looked away.

 

She looked down at her pale forearm, pinpointing the right vein, before pushing the needle in. She’d seen the nurses do it hundreds of times, and doing it herself was remarkably easier than she’d thought. She pulled her hand away from the needle and leaned her back against the wall.

 

“Does it hurt?” Peggy murmured.

 

Lucy blinked. 

 

Now that Peggy mentioned it, the liquid travelling intravenously into her body was burning, like fire snaking around her veins. Her left arm was extremely warm, but the pain was incomparable to the broken bones she’d received from Dr. Schaffer or other test subjects, so she didn’t pay it much attention.

 

“A little.” She mumbled.

 

Peggy leaned her back against the wall and folded her hands together.

 

Lucy turned to stare mindlessly at the door ahead of them, eyes growing disturbingly blank. She let herself slip away until Peggy spoke again. 

 

“Where are you from?” She asked.

 

Lucy looked down at her hands, fiddling with her thumbs. 

 

“Weimar.” She clenched her jaw- it was information they used against her and Peggy could do the same. “Before that, Brooklyn, New York.”

 

If Peggy noticed her discomfort she said nothing, crossing her arms over her chest. 

 

“I was born in Hampstead, England.” She said.

 

Lucy lifted her head, confused. 

 

“April ninth, 1921.” She said, before chuckling. “Gosh, my first birthday was an absolute mess. My brother had been excited to celebrate it, even if I was an absolute stubborn baby. So excited he ended up tripping over me and nose diving into my cake.”

 

She turned and looked Lucy in the eye.

 

“What about you? Do you have any family?” She asked.

 

Lucy stared, before her eyes narrowed.

 

“What are you doing?” She asked sharply, drawing her shoulders inwards in a distrustful manner. 

 

“Making conversation.” Peggy seemed unfazed- relaxed even- before continuing. “You know, I vividly remember my face being completely emerged in cake frosting. I had a grudge against him for that. Stupid, I know. When I was five I started eating pies for my birthdays, just to spite my brother.”

 

Lucy’s gaze remained cold and unwavering.

 

“Then he went off to war on September 23rd last year and I started writing to him. He never wrote me back though, not until late November. I remember being so bloody excited when a letter finally did come in the mail.” Peggy’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I opened that letter with a smile on my face and I read the first two lines. It turned out his first mission had been an ambush.”

 

Lucy listened to what Peggy had to say, but she had absolutely no idea why she was telling her this.

 

“I had cake for the first time in eighteen years, not even knowing the day he died. Oh, I also had a bloody good bottle of whiskey.” Peggy looked away from her.

 

She didn’t mean to contribute to the conversation, but she couldn’t help her curiosity.

 

“Eighteen.” Lucy blurted, hands clenching and unclenching nervously. “You’re eighteen?”

 

Peggy chuckled.

 

“Well, I turned nineteen a few weeks ago.” She said and Lucy blinked, before lowering her head.

 

She had lost track of time and no one seemed to think it was necessary for her to know what month it was, or even the day. 

 

“What year is it?” She muttered, and Peggy’s smile dropped.

 

For a moment Lucy felt absolute terror seize her body, then Peggy’s comforting smile appeared again and she relaxed.

 

“1939.” She said.

 

Lucy did some math in her head before clasping her hands together.

 

“I’m twenty-two.” She realized.

 

Peggy nodded- either to confirm or to simply respond- before glancing at the IV drip which was now empty. She stood, and Lucy pulled the needle from her arm.

 

“I better be off now, before someone realizes I’ve been here too long.” She said reluctantly.

 

Peggy gave her a thankful look before grabbing the IV stand.  She turned, her steps echoing in the room, before pulling open the door and stepping past the doorway.

 

“That.” Lucy said, stopping Peggy in her tracks. 

 

She swallowed as Peggy beckoned her to continue.

 

“What you were doing- saying. Was it to earn my trust?” She questioned skeptically.

 

Peggy hummed.

 

“No. You’re just good company. Besides, a gal’s gotta talk to a gal, right?”

 

Lucy nodded slowly and Peggy stepped out.

 

The door shut with a quiet click and the locks turned. 

 

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Lucy whispered to the room.

 

She wasn’t sure if she was sorry for Peggy, or for herself.

Chapter 6: Five

"I do what I do because I can do it.”

Weimar, Germany

May, 1941

LUCY’S ARMS WERE STIFF at her sides, neck coiled with the tension of a spring. Her eyes remained focused on the five guns hovering in front of her, hands clenching and unclenching. Sweat trickled down her forehead, and she breathed deeply as the triggers pulled. Bullets rang and five targets hit the ground with a thud. After hitting the targets the bullets exploded in a cloudy dust of reflective silver. The guns lowered to the silver table in front of her and she turned to face her audience.

 

Schmidt’s smile was wide and threatening, confidence and pride coursing through his veins. Over twenty different colonel’s of the Wehrmacht watched her with absolute clarity, eyes wide with surprise and awe. Dr. Zola was scribbling on his clipboard as he always did, and Abraham was watching with lips pressed into a thin line. Dr. Schaffer looked disinterested, and he flipped a cigarette in his hand, playing with it in the pocket of his lab coat.

 

Her gaze remained on the ground as Schmidt turned to converse with the men. 

 

She didn’t listen to their evaluations as the guards patrolling the open gym stepped in front of her. They picked up the metal table and the fake targets in front of her, before rolling out a training mat. 

 

Lucy blinked as the back entrance slammed open, thoroughly surprising some of the men in the room. Two guards stepped inside while dragging a struggling man, who had a sack over his head. They held him securely between their arms and Lucy watched them with a calculating look. The man kicked and grunted with anger- something knew in Lucy’s opinion.

 

“Kollegen-“

 

Gentlemen-

 

She heard Schmidt announce.

 

 “-das ist ein colonel aus Amerika. Und ein Jude.”

 

-this is a colonel from America. And a Jew.

 

A snicker erupted from the men around him, only encouraging Schmidt, whose lips twisted into a cruel smirk.

 

Lucy didn’t move from her spot but she had the urge to sneer at the men behind her. She wondered if Schmidt even knew she was half American as well. Her eyes narrowed as the man was thrown onto the mat, hyper aware of the lack of restraints on his wrists and ankles. He reached upwards and snatched the sack of his head, eyes alight with a burning fire.

 

His eyes were an earthy brown and his hair was blonde, matted to his head from sweat. He wore a soldier’s uniform which was torn and spoiled from gunpowder and debris. He held himself in a defensive position, lips turned into a scowl.

 

He scanned the room before his gaze settled on her.

 

“Who the hell is you suppos’ to be? Judge, jury, and executioner?” He sneered angrily, 

 

Lucy tilted her head as she decided he knew attempting to run towards the exit would end with several bullets in his body.

 

“What, ya lost your tongue?” He snapped.

 

Lucy wanted to nod but she didn’t reply. 

 

She kept her eyes trained on his vulnerable points, but the army taught him well, and his stance was perfect. She assumed they were supposed to fight when the order was given. She sized him up, taking into account the pure fury he held towards Hitler’s men, as well as Schmidt. Lucy swallowed thickly at the realization her life might be on the line if she didn’t succeed in killing him. It would technically be self-defense- but she could subdue him in a more humane way. 

 

She nodded to herself inwardly, deciding her goal was unconsciousness and nothing more.

 

“Verfall.”

 

Decay.

 

Dr. Schaffer snapped and Lucy straightened immediately, turning to face the man. 

 

As soon as her back turned the man lunged at her. She swiveled around on her feet and slammed her foot into his stomach. He stumbled backwards but held his ground, eyes wide with justified surprise. He raised his fist to hit her when a bullet smacked into the training mat besides his feet.

 

The man jumped back and Lucy looked at the guard who let off the warning shot, before turning her attention to Dr. Schaffer once again.

 

“Du wirst gegen diesen Mann kämpfen, bis dir gesagt wird, du sollst aufhören, verstanden?”

 

You will fight this man until you are told to stop, understood?

 

He ordered and Lucy didn’t cringe.

 

She nodded with a blank gaze, before turning and stepping onto the training mat. Her target- the nameless colonel- took a few steps back. 

 

He eyed her warily and she tried to look as cold as possible. 

 

“The hell did he just say?” The man growled and Lucy bit her lip to stop an answer escaping her throat.

 

She didn’t have time to send him an apologetic look as Dr. Schaffer whistled shrilly. 

 

Her head snapped to the side at the painful high-pitched sound. She shifted her footing and the man noticed, lunging forwards before she could. 

 

She grunted as he wrapped an arm around her throat, slamming her into the ground. She hit the mat and ignored the throbbing pain in her neck as she swung her right leg around his, grabbing onto his shoulders and propelling herself upwards. She landed on the training mat behind him and the man quickly spun on his feet, attempting to roundhouse kick her in the side.

 

She grabbed his foot, skidding back a few inches, before shoving him back. He stumbled and Lucy expected him to fall, but he surpassed her expectations when he merely turned his body and slammed his other foot into her face. As much as she knew she had the ability to dodge the attack she let his combat boot smack into the side of her jaw. She heard a faint crack and brought one hand up to massage the bone while ducking the next hit.

 

She could feel the disappointed stares of the Wehrmacht men, but she didn’t let that faze her. 

 

The colonel swung his fist into her face and his eyes widened with horror when it stopped inches from her nose, by nothing but air. Lucy swung a right hook at him before ducking under and grabbing onto his back like a tick on a dog. She swung her left leg around his and used the momentum to throw him onto the mat. She rolled out from underneath him and landed in a crouch. The colonel stood to his feet faster than she expected but he didn’t advance on her.

 

“You’re a pretty ass dame if you weren’t tryin’ to beat my ass. Bet you don’t understand me though, yea’?” He said with an angry huff.

 

Lucy jumped onto her feet, blinked, then lunged at him with a swift right hook to the cheek. He ducked and grabbed her by the waist, causing her to twist and hook her legs around his shoulders. 

 

She didn’t apologize as she brought her fist down onto his head. He stumbled as she flipped off of him, landing firmly on her feet. He caught his balance and Lucy inwardly groaned with frustration. He jumped at her and she slammed her palm into his throat, fingers curling around his neck. She lifted him in the air as he kicked and sputtered, before flipping him to the ground and wrapping her arm around him in a chokehold.

 

Her hold was slightly off, thanks to his height, and his elbow met her nose. The sound of a crack emanated and she sneezed, blood spurting out of her nostrils. She blinked at the blood staining his ripped clothes, momentarily distracted. He wasted no time shoving her off of him and she almost frowned.

 

“Ain’t so pretty now, are ya?” He sneered and she stood slowly, wiping her nose with one hand.

 

The colonel smirked as if he expected her to give up, and she wondered if he really thought he’d ever survive Schmidt’s wrath. 

 

The Wehrmacht colonel’s looked thoroughly intrigued by the sudden lack of motion. 

 

Lucy turned her head, gazing at the man blankly as she grabbed her nose and snapped it back into place. The man’s eyes widened as the blood on her face evaporated into thin air. She shifted her feet, and let her arms lean stiffly against her sides.

 

The colonel growled and sped towards her in large strides. This time he kicked her hard in the chest, and she let herself fall to the ground. The man sneered and moved to stomp on her when his foot stopped, hovering above her. He tried to push down but the air wouldn’t let him, and Lucy focused on the core of his body with her hands held in front of her. Before he could move she pulled her hand back, then threw them forwards. He let out a sharp gasp of shock as he went flying into the air. He landed just at the edge of the training mat sharply, foot snapping.

 

A cry escaped his lips and Lucy stalked towards him with silent footsteps.

 

In her peripheral vision she could see Abraham looking at her with horror and an adequate amount of anxiety. 

 

She breathed deeply as she neared the man who struggled to pull himself away from her. She kneed him in the chest and grabbed him by the throat. He gasped for breath, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head after thirty seconds.

 

Lucy knew he was faking unconsciousness but let go anyway. She stood to her feet, staring at the rise and fall of his chest.

 

“Kill him.” 

 

Schmidt’s voice was a low rumble like a lion preparing to roar- she could hear the threat in his voice.

 

Envisioning his enraged face was all too easy, and she was almost a hundred percent sure his lips were curled in a furious snarl.

 

The nameless colonel’s eyelids fluttered open and he stared at Lucy for a moment. Her breathing was remarkably even and it was all she could hear in the silent room, slowly building with tension. She clasped her hands behind her back and squeezed her eyes shut.

 

“Soldat.”

 

Soldier.

 

Dr. Schaffer said sharply and Lucy felt a shiver travel up her spine.

 

She pressed her lips into a thin line as the colonel pushed himself to sit, looking as if he wanted to run and never see her again. He narrowed his eyes with confusion and she slowly turned to face her enemies.

 

Most of the Wehrmacht members were still in a trance of awe, but some of them looked mildly disappointed. They stared at her but her eyes remained glued to Schmidt’s and her tongue grew dry of words. 

 

Schmidt ran a frustrated hand through his hair and massaged his temples as Dr. Zola turned to the other men, guiding them towards the exit as they sprung into chatter amongst themselves. They spoke of her like a beast on display and Lucy, for the record, didn’t spit at them as she looked away.

 

When the door shut and she was left with the scientists, Schmidt and the nameless colonel, Lucy collapsed to her knees, hands trembling with adrenaline.

 

Schmidt advanced towards her, but she made no move to run. The colonel on the ground widened his eyes and he pulled himself backwards after miserably failing to stand on his feet. He was clearly not the target as Schmidt grabbed her by the chin, roughly pulling her head upwards. She caught his eyes of pure fury before he drew his pistol and slammed it across her cheek. Blood exploded inside of her mouth and she swallowed as Abraham drew in a sharp breath.

 

“Ich habe dir gesagt.”

 

I told you.

 

She heard Dr. Schaffer mutter under his breath, eyes bright with malicious glee.

 

Schmidt pistol whipped her across the face again and she couldn’t help the blood escaping her mouth. He snarled in distaste and she almost wanted to clean it for him out of pure terror. 

 

“Du tötest, wenn es dir gesagt wird.”

 

You kill when you are told.

 

He said sharply and Lucy shuddered.

 

He raised his pistol again and she flinched, hands instinctively reaching for his wrists. She could dislocate his entire arm from her position on the floor but she knew better and she didn’t duck when metal hit flesh. Her head snapped to the side and she gasped as her cheek throbbed.

 

“Verstehst du?”

 

Do you understand?

 

He hissed, his grip on her chin tightening.

 

She ran her tongue over her teeth, swallowing blood.

 

“Ich kann nicht.”

 

I can’t.

 

She whispered the only two words she could press out from beneath her tongue and Schmidt scoffed.

 

The colonel behind her looked on with wide eyes, and she could feel him grow uneasy. She shifted on her knees but Schmidt’s grip was relentless and she could barely move without his grip tightening.

 

“Du kannst nicht.

 

You can’t.

 

He repeated, baffled.

 

She lowered her gaze, hands clenched into shaky fists.

 

“Ich werde nicht.”

 

I won’t.

 

She said, mustering enough bravery to look him in the eye. 

 

There was a pause.

 

“Ich werde nicht.”

 

I won’t.

 

She repeated firmly, raising her voice a fraction.

 

He clenched his jaw and she averted her gaze, squeezing her eyes shut as she waited for the pistol to slam into her bloody face again. 

 

“Dann nützen Sie mir nichts.”

 

Then you are of no use to me.

 

A shiver travelled down her spine and cold sweat trickle down her forehead as he flipped the gun in his hand. 

 

When a loud bang resonated in the room she expected a bullet to tear through her head and splatter brain matter across the floor. But there was a sound of a foreign grunt, stopping the thought in its tracks. She saw it without turning around: the molecular structure of skin tearing apart, bone structure breaking, brain ripping. 

 

She pieced together what happened and stilled, unable to completely comprehend the blood that threatened to seep beneath her shoes.

 

Schmidt roughly let go of her chin and grabbed ahold of her hair. She winced as fiery pain shot through her head and her eyes watered as she shuffled on her knees. She choked on spit, trying not to vomit as warm blood stained her legs. 

 

She stared blankly as the colonel stared at her with a hollow gaze. Dark red blood pooled around his head, a clean bullet hole at the center, pieces of his skull splattered across the ground.

 

She let Schmidt shove her face towards the body, deciding she deserved to stare down the colonel and memorize his face, from the paleness of his lips, to the scar across his forehead. The silver plates of his dog tag reflected the ceiling light and she memorized the name and number. If anyone could remember him, it was her, and she’d keep him in her memories- at least then, he had someone to mourn for him.

 

He let go of her head and she leaned her hands forward to keep herself balanced. She never regretted anything more as blood stained her hands.

 

Schmidt crouched besides her and she stiffened as he pulled a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

 

“Hast du eine Wahl?”

 

Do you have a choice?

 

He asked softly.

 

She stared at the ground, unblinking.

 

“Nein, sir.”

 

No, sir.

 

She forced the response off her lips.

 

“Hatten Sie Befehle?”

 

Do you have orders?

 

He continued.

 

“Ja, sir.”

 

Yes, sir.

 

She replied, voice void of emotions.

 

“Und was machen Sie mit Aufträgen?”

 

And what do you do with orders?

 

His voice was suddenly cold, and Lucy inhaled sharply.

 

“Folgen Sie Ihnen, sir.”

 

Follow them, sir.

 

She whispered, and Schmidt hummed, before standing.

 

He turned to Dr. Zola, who had watched the scene with a look of distaste. Abraham adjusted his glasses as he shuffled on his feet and Dr. Schaffer put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

 

The short scientist glanced at Schmidt who crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“Sie versteht, aber Sie weigert sich. Ist dir klar, dass das ein problem ist?”

 

She understands but she refuses. Do you realize this is a problem?

 

Schmidt questioned and Dr. Zola tucked his clipboard under his arm.

 

“Ich sehe das problem nicht, als ich dir sagte, dass Sie nicht bereit ist.”

 

I don't see the problem when I told you she is not ready.

 

He replied smoothly and Schmidt blinked.

 

“Es war genug Zeit, Arnim. Von der Auswahl bis zum training. Wir werden den Krieg verlieren, bevor Sie überhaupt benutzt werden kann.”

 

It has been enough time, Arnim. From selection to her training. We will lose the war before she can even be used.

 

He reasoned calmly and Dr. Zola breathed deeply.

 

“Es ist Ihre Wahl Schmidt, aber ich empfehle Ihnen, geduldig zu bleiben.”

 

It’s your choice Schmidt, but I recommend you remain patient.

 

He said with a shrug.

 

Dr. Schaffer stepped forwards, letting go of Abraham.

 

“Ich muss widersprechen.”

 

I have to disagree.

 

He said.

 

“HYDRA hat lange genug gewartet. Es gibt Methoden zur Verbesserung der compliance im Zeitraum von Monaten, nicht von Jahren.”

 

HYDRA has waited long enough. There are methods for improving compliance in the span of months, not years.

 

He continued, and Schmidt tilted his head.

 

Lucy breathed heavily as she pushed herself onto her feet. She wiped blood on her shirt and stumbled forwards. Abraham sprinted towards her and he caught her before she could hit the ground. She clutched onto him with trembling hands and he slowly shifted her arm around her shoulder.

 

She looked at Schmidt with bleary eyes as he turned back to look at her.

 

“You want to take her to Auschwitz?” 

 

He said and Dr. Schaffer nodded with a toothy grin.

 

“With your permission, of course.” 

 

Dr. Schaffer flipped the cigarette in his hand, pressing it between his lips. 

 

“Soviet Doctor Johann Fenhoff has been experimenting in the camp. With his help, I assure you it will kill by-“

 

He flicked a lighter on, waving it in front of the end of his cigarette. 

 

“- September, October. Give or take.”

 

He breathed in before letting out a puff of smoke.

 

Schmidt ran his tongue along his teeth and Abraham’s grip on her shoulder tightened.

 

“Du kannst Sie nicht nach Auschwitz schicken.”

 

You can’t send her to Auschwitz. 

 

He said with sudden fervor, and Lucy felt Schmidt stiffen.

 

The molecules in the air shifted and she felt Schmidt reach for his pistol. Without thinking she pushed Abraham to the ground and pulled herself in front of him. A gunshot went off, narrowly missing Abraham as he hit the floor. He grunted and Lucy stared at him with frantic eyes.

 

“Nicht. Don’t. Protect. Me.” She bit out as pain flared through her arm.

 

Blood trickled down her hand as she forced herself onto her feet. She reached over and felt for the bullet in her arm before ripping it out. She watched as her flesh started to rapidly heal, before lifting her head and catching Schmidt’s gaze.

 

“Ja, ich glaube, Auschwitz funktioniert.”

 

Yes, I think Auschwitz works.

Chapter 7: Six

"There’s no honorable way to kill, no gentle way to destroy. There is nothing good in war. Except it’s ending.”

Oświęcim, Poland

June, 1941

APART FROM HER HEAD, Lucy was completely submerged in water. Her sensory deprivation tank was upright, and her legs ached from standing. She tapped her finger against the interior, listening to the soft click of her nail hitting metal underwater- one, two, pause, one, two, three, pause. Her eyes were closed, head twitching at the slightest hint of a sound. When she heard the thrum of a train engine she knew they didn’t know her enhanced hearing was better than they thought. She tried to see the molecules in front of her but the atoms were disrupted by high-pitched frequencies, bouncing from one wall of the tank to the other. 

 

At least they’d gone with a pitch so high she couldn’t hear it.

 

She wasn’t sure if hours had passed, and if they did, she wouldn’t know. The only clue she had about time was the amount of sweat droplets that had trickled down her forehead. But, it was hard to be aware of the discomfort and claustrophobia roaming in her head when she was just trying to breathe.

 

Her finger twitched when the whirring train engine came to a stop. Silence rang in her ear as she felt the water in her tank start to drain. She breathed a shuddering breath, having the urge to rub her goose-bump riddled arms. She waited for the locks on her tank to open, shifting on her feet. When they clicked, the frequencies surrounding her faded and she could see the molecules appear. She shut off her abilities as the door opened swiftly. She pried her eyes open, blinking slowly. 

 

There was barely any light to adjust to- the train cart was dark, with a dull lightbulb swinging above her head.

 

A nameless agent beckoned her out and she stepped forwards numbly, knees threatening to buckle. He handed her a neat pile of clothes- a black tank top and a black pair of shorts- and she changed efficiently. 

 

She examined the train’s interior through her peripheral vision, flinching when the train door slammed open. She narrowed her eyes at the blinding sun, a man in a soldier’s uniform looking back and forth, confused.

 

Dr. Schaffer walked forwards in a colonel’s uniform, and the soldier scratched the back of his head sheepishly. He shot him a toothy grin, and Dr. Schaffer returned the gesture, before stepping outside. Gravel crunched under his feet, and Lucy tilted her head curiously as seven guards circled her. They marched forwards and she moved- back straight, looking ahead.

 

Dr. Schaffer chose to walk at a leisure pace, giving Lucy enough time to witness the train carts beside hers slam open by other Schutzstaffel soldiers. Her eyes threatened to widen as hundreds of people poured out, delirious, disoriented, and chattering amongst themselves with fear. 

 

“Alle raus! Lass alles drinnen. Beeil dich!”

 

Everybody out! Leave everything inside. Hurry up!

 

A soldier shouted and the people moved hurriedly as other men in uniforms surrounded them whilst wielding clubs. 

 

Men, women, and children shuffled around her with tears and she sucked in a sharp breath, ridiculously overwhelmed by the amount of people besides her. 

 

She continued walking and passed an SS man with a machine gun. 

 

“Männer nach Links! Frauen nach rechts!”

 

Men to the left! Women to the right!

 

Another man commanded and Dr. Schaffer looked unphased as he changed his pace, walking down the line of men. 

 

Lucy was quick to follow as the guards around her shifted. She focused on Dr. Schaffer’s footsteps as if her life depended on it, trying her best to ignore the men separating from their wives and daughters. She heard someone fall and snapped her head to the side when a gunshot went off. 

 

The guard behind her shoved her forwards and she stumbled. 

 

“Bilden Sie Reihen von fünf!”

 

Form ranks of five!

 

An SS officer yelled and Lucy felt the men around her walk into line with reluctance. 

 

It was easier to notice her, and the men stared at her with varying expressions of fear, pity, and empathy. She remained surrounded by her battalion of guards as Dr. Schaffer guided them with ease, a smile on his face. 

 

Lucy tried not to frown when she felt her hand grow warmer as every second passed. She looked at her left hand to see a small hand pressed against the palm of hers and she stopped, dead in her tracks. The guards paused, and Dr. Schaffer frowned when he noticed they were no longer following. Lucy ducked her head as a small boy held her hand, looking back and forth with sheer terror in his eyes. The prisoners marching stopped from the disruption and Lucy tried to pry the boy’s hand off.

 

Lucy’s breath hitched in her throat when Dr. Schaffer drew his gun. 

 

Hoping he hadn’t seen the face of the innocent boy, she sprung into action, pushing past guards and racing through the lines of men. Absolute chaos broke out and they fell out of rank as she shoved shoulders and elbowed backs. She let go of the boy once a crowd formed, and he disappeared.

 

The SS soldier’s barely scrambled at the sight, regaining order as fast as it’d been lost.

 

Lucy stood in front of Dr. Schaffer once again, eyes averted to the ground. The guards caught up to her a few seconds later, breathless and Dr. Schaffer tilted his head with a hint of amusement. He dismissed the men, clearly deeming them useless. 

 

The prisoners fell into line and Lucy didn’t falter when Dr. Schaffer smacked his pistol beneath her chin. 

 

A warning. 

 

She remained silent as she followed him towards a crossroads. At the center of it was a man with a bright smile on his face and a monocle hanging on his left eye. He held a conductor’s baton, surrounded by other officers with similar weapons. The baton pointed left or right, and Lucy could see the crematorium looming at both sides.

 

“Schön, Sie zu sehen, Dr. Schaffer. Wie geht’s dir? Behandelt HYDRA dich gut?”

 

Nice to see you, Dr. Schaffer. How are you? Does HYDRA treat you well?

 

The man greeted, smiling with recognition.

 

“Gut, Ja. Und du, Arzt Mengele? Behandelt dich die Schutzstaffel gut?”

 

Good. Yes. And you, Dr. Mengele? Does the Schutzstaffel treat you well?

 

He grinned and Dr. Mengele rolled his eyes playfully. 

 

“Ja, natürlich.”

 

Yes, of course.

 

He replied, eyes settling on the next prisoner.

 

Dr. Schaffer looked as though he wanted to continue the conversation but Lucy assumed he didn’t because the man was working- if pointing people to their death qualified as work.

 

He continued walking down the path, passing a burning pit of bodies. Her eyes burned with horror and she blinked the emotion away. She couldn’t help the scrunch of her nose, the scent of burnt flesh singeing her nostrils, avoiding the dead gazes of children. 

 

She caught Dr. Schaffer staring at her and relaxed her face, resuming her neutral expression. 

 

They walked past another barrack towards a four story hospital with weathered brick walls. The door was open and prisoners were marching in and out- mostly children and teenagers. 

 

Bile threatened to climb her throat as Dr. Schaffer guided her to a set of stairs. She stepped upwards until they reached the third floor, where he led her down a long hallway passing several rooms. He stopped in front of a steel door with several locks, pushing it open.

 

Lucy stepped inside.

 

The walls were reinforced with metal, space completely empty with a ceiling light barely illuminating the room. She stopped walking when Dr. Schaffer did, and he turned to her with a curious look on his face.

 

“Sie haben solche Angst, aus der Reihe zu treten. Aber du weigerst dich zu töten. Warum?”

 

You are so afraid to step out of line. But you refuse to kill. Why?

 

He questioned.

 

When Lucy realized he was waiting for an answer she was appalled.

 

“Töten unter dem Deckmantel des Krieges ist nichts als Mord.”

 

Killing under the guise of war is nothing but murder.

 

She said and Dr. Schaffer hummed.

 

“Ja, aber es ist notwendig, die Welt zu retten. HYDRA versucht nur, die Menschheit zu retten.”

 

Yes, but it is necessary to save the world. HYDRA is only trying to save humanity.

 

He claimed and she turned her head to look at him.

 

He was eyeing her closely, watching her every move, as if he was trying to see a change in her demeanor. She decided Dr. Schaffer was smart, albeit slower than Dr. Zola, but smart nevertheless. 

 

“Indem Sie eine Waffe auf den Kopf aller richten und Sie töten, weil Sie Gedanken und Meinungen haben.”

 

By pointing a gun at everyone’s head and killing them for having thoughts and opinions.

 

She said emotionlessly, and Dr. Schaffer’s eye twitched.

 

It was interesting to see such an egotistical man- confident in all his answers- to be blatantly unsure of his predictions. Lucy shifted her gaze to look him dead in the eyes, letting her blank expression melt away.

 

“Du kannst die Menschheit nicht retten, indem du Sie tötest.”

 

You cannot save humanity by killing it.

 

She snapped, stepping forwards.

 

Her lips curled into a sneer and her eyes narrowed dangerously. She glared with a clenched jaw, teeth gritting. 

 

Dr. Schaffer was thoroughly taken aback, surprise riddling his features. When he recovered he crossed his arms over his chest. 

 

“Da bist du ja, du kleine Schlampe.”

 

There you are, you little bitch.

 

He grinned and Lucy’s sneer turned into a threatening smile.

 

“Sollte ich beleidigt sein, Arzt?”

 

Should I be offended, Doctor?

 

She questioned.

 

He didn’t answer, eyes raking her confident form. He tilted his head to the side. 

 

“Warum hörst du auf Befehle? Warum Folgen Sie Ihnen?”

 

Why do you listen to orders? Why do you follow them?

 

Curiosity seeped through his voice and Lucy scoffed.

 

“Würdest du nicht, wenn dein Leben davon abhängt?”

 

Wouldn’t you, if your life depended on it?

 

He frowned and she continued.

 

“Subjekt 011 versuchte Subjekt 010 zu erwürgen. Sie konnten den Befehlen nicht Folgen. Sie wurden bestraft und ermordet. Subjekt 014 ließ Ihre Waffe fallen. Sie konnte den Befehlen nicht Folgen. Sie wurde bestraft und kurz darauf ermordet. Subjekt 015 war zu emotional. Sie konnte den Befehlen nicht Folgen. Sie wurde bestraft und ermordet.”

 

Subject 011 tried to strangle Subject 010. They could not follow orders. They were punished and murdered. Subject 014 dropped her gun. She could not follow orders. She was punished, and shortly after, murdered. Subject 015 was too emotional. She could not follow orders. She was punished and murdered.

 

She paused, clasping her hands behind her back.

 

“Befehle zu befolgen ist der einzige Weg zu überleben.”

 

Following orders is the only way to survive.

 

She finished.

 

Dr. Schaffer raised an eyebrow.

 

“Du hast es versäumt zu töten.”

 

You failed to kill.

 

He mentioned and Lucy wondered if he really didn’t know the answers himself.

 

If she’d been ordered to kill when they first brought her in, she would’ve been hysterical, begging on her knees. But  they had to tread carefully around the order, or compliance from their subject’s could be lost. Lucy had followed orders because it was easy. Sometimes she suffocated from the lack of choices, but merely learning a new technique of self-defense every day was a task she could accomplish. Learning was on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to killing.

 

But she knew the order was inevitable, so when she was ordered to kill, she had been expecting it. She’d been calm, refusing with alarming numbness. By then they were already low in test subjects and all three doctors- though she was sure Abraham had a say in nothing- had come to a consensus: her physical stats and determination overruled the inability to kill.

 

“Ja. Ich Tat. Ich sollte tot sein. Aber ich bin nicht, weil es kein anderes Thema gibt, das meinen Platz einnehmen kann. Du hast es selbst gesagt - ich bin zu wertvoll, um verloren zu gehen.”

 

Yes. I did. I should be dead. But I’m not because there’s no other subject that can take my place. You said it yourself- I’m too valuable to be lost.

 

She said honestly.

 

She watched Dr. Schaffer experience the five stages of grief in a few seconds, anger prominent in his features. He scoffed and shook his head.

 

“Mit einem IQ von 232 kann ich nicht sagen, dass ich überrascht bin, dass wir dich unterschätzt haben. Du bist schlau.”

 

With an IQ of 232 I can’t say I’m surprised we’ve underestimated you. You’re smart.

 

It was hardly a compliment- more of an observation- and Lucy leveled her gaze.

 

“Warum reden wir, Doktor? Ich dachte, dein Ziel wäre es, mich zu brechen.”

 

Why are we talking, Doctor? I thought your goal was to break me.

 

She questioned monotonously.

 

Dr. Schaffer chuckled.

 

“Ja.”

 

Yes.

 

He pulled back the sleeve of his uniform, a gold watch glimmering against the ceiling light.

 

“Wir haben einen Gast, Ms. Baker, einen edlen Mann der Wehrmacht.”

 

We have a guest, Ms. Baker, a noble man of the Wehrmacht.

 

He smiled and Lucy’s confidence flickered.

 

She swallowed thickly at the mention of her last name, lifting her head sharply at the implication.

 

Her face grew expressionless, and she knew Dr. Schaffer was pleased by the sight. 

 

“Julius Lukas Baker wurde am 2. September 1939 eingezogen. Er ist nur ein weiterer Mann in unserer Armee, und leicht auswechselbar.”

 

Julius Lukas Baker was drafted on September second of 1939. He is just another man in our army, and easily replaceable.

 

He said, swiping a cigarette from his pocket.

 

He grabbed a lighter with his other hand and flicked it open.

 

“Er ist der Letzte deiner Familie, Lucy. Ich Frage mich, ob du töten wirst, um einen Vater zu retten.”

 

He’s the last of your family, Lucy. I wonder if you will kill to save a father.

 

Fire reflected against his pupils and Lucy watched as his cigarette caught the blunt edge of the heat, bursting with red coal.

 

He balanced the rolled poison between his lips, releasing a puff of smoke. It reached her face and her eye twitched at the sudden stench. She wondered why he never smoked before, but came to the conclusion Dr. Zola thought it was inappropriate to light a cigarette at work. Dr. Zola could always threaten him, and somehow, his threats stuck.

 

Lucy mulled over his words. She wished he was bluffing- but the possibility was shallow. HYDRA was the government, therefore the army, therefore the Wehrmacht, therefore capable of having her father in custody, therefore- she didn’t like where her thoughts were going.

 

“Er sollte hier sein-“

 

He should be here-

 

Dr. Schaffer trailed off as the sound of footsteps echoed behind him. 

 

Lucy stiffened and stood as straight as a board, dropping her gaze to the floor. She activated her abilities and anxiously realized she could not control anything. They were buzzing- moving erratically as they had inside her sensory deprivation tank. High-pitched frequencies, she realized, and her eyes closed.

 

Dr. Schaffer stepped in front of the doorway, blocking her view, and she watched as he leaned against the doorframe casually.

 

“Es ist schön, dich endlich kennenzulernen, Julius. Ich habe gehört, du hast den größten Teil deines Regiments vor einem Hinterhalt gerettet.”

 

It’s nice to finally meet you, Julius. I’ve heard you saved most of your regiment from an ambush.

 

He remarked and she heard the sound of shuffling feet, accompanied by a familiar chuckle.

 

Her heart dropped three floors down, conveniently into the burning pit of bodies. Her eyebrows furrowed and tears threatened to fall. She hurriedly blinked and resumed her neutral expression.

 

“Ich danke Ihnen, Oberst-“

 

Thank you, Colonel-

 

He trailed off, unsure of Dr. Schaffer’s name.

 

The doctor didn’t offer an answer, instead jumping to a different topic.

 

“Um Ihnen zu Ihren Bemühungen zu gratulieren, arrangierte ich ein. . .Familientreffen.”

 

To congratulate you on your efforts, I’ve arranged a. . .family reunion.

 

He said and she saw the tilt of her fathers head.

 

Dr. Schaffer drew in another puff of smoke and he exhaled as he turned to Lucy.

 

She lifted her gaze as Dr. Schaffer stepped to the side. Her father entered and his eyebrows practically shot off his head. He gasped in surprise and pure joy, lips turning into a bright smile. He looked like, he’d, well, went through hell and back, but that’s what war did to someone, didn’t it? Otherwise he looked fairly healthy- just as she’d remembered- blue eyes twinkling with recognition. 

 

“Lucy! Hast du meine Briefe erhalten? Ich weiß, du bist immer beschäftigt. Wie geht's? Geht es dir gut? Bist du etwa gewachsen?”

 

Lucy! Did you receive my letters? I know you’re always busy. How are you? Have you been well? Did you get taller?

 

He questioned, looking at her height. 

 

Lucy hadn’t caught a glimpse of herself in years, and wasn’t sure if she did grow. Her gaze flickered to Dr. Schaffer who nodded.

 

“Mir geht es gut genug, Vati.”

 

I am well enough, Papa.

 

She lied smoothly.

 

“Behandelt dich die Armee gut?”

 

Does the army treat you well?

 

She asked and he shrugged, a laugh escaping his lips.

 

“Ja. So gut Sie können.”

 

Yes. As best they can.

 

He said before furrowing his eyebrows.

 

He seemed to realize she shouldn’t be here in the first place, and his happiness was quickly replaced by confusion. Lucy tore her gaze from her father’s, standing at attention and lowering her gaze in submission. 

 

“Soldat.”

 

Soldier.

 

Dr. Schaffer said, and Lucy snapped her head towards him just as her father did.

 

Her father frowned in concern and Dr. Schaffer blew a puff of smoke as he watched the man’s facial expressions. 

 

“Wenn du sicher bist, dass du töten kannst, lasse ich deinen Vater Leben und er wird von seiner Pflicht als Soldat befreit.”

 

If you are confident that you can kill, I’ll let your father live, and he’ll be relieved of his duty as a soldier.

 

He said, drawing another breath from his cigarette.

 

He stepped in front of her, face inches from her’s. He blew smoke and she held her breath, staring at him defiantly. Her father stepped between them and a tremor travelled through her body, expecting a blow to her fathers head. But Dr. Schaffer merely chuckled and held his hands up in mock surrender.

 

Her father pushed her back protectively, confusion morphing into horror.

 

Dr. Schaffer pulled a revolver from his holster and filled it with bullets from his cargo pocket. It was a deliberate action that could’ve been done at a different time. He was making a point, moving slow and steady, taunting her with his actions. Words could never be as strong as the silence he held. The bullet tinkered as it sat snuggly in his gun and he balanced his cigarette between his lips.

 

“Bist du zuversichtlich, Lucy?”

 

Are you confident, Lucy?

 

He questioned, raising the gun.

 

She grabbed her father’s arm and shoved him behind her. He stumbled slightly but caught his balance. She clasped her hands behind her back, and lowered her head.

 

“Nein.”

 

No.

 

She answered as her father grabbed her shoulder.

 

“Lucy, was zur hölle ist denn da los?”

 

Lucy, what the hell is going on?

 

Her father spoke, further confused and cautious of the gun in Dr. Schaffer’s hands.

 

He grasped her arm gently in a comforting manner but it did the opposite. She pulled away from her father, staring at the floor. 

 

They wanted her to kill people for the sake of her country but she rather hated the war between America and Germany anyway. It was difficult to choose a side simply because she was ethnically both. She had no heart to fight for ‘her country’, and she was a woman who’d be judged by every man who looked her way.

 

She reminded herself her father’s life was at stake, but it didn’t matter to anyone but herself. It would be selfish of her to save one person, over a hundred, but Lucy wondered if she deserved to be selfish for once.

 

Her eyes scanned Dr. Schaffer’s composure and she couldn’t possibly see the scene unfold in her favor. 

 

She could disarm the doctor and take his life instead, but she had nothing to aid her in the fight and it was practically a suicide mission. It would be killing a monstrous human, but a monstrous human was still a person. Dr. Schaffer qualified as a man and that was unfortunate for her.

 

Besides, even if she agreed, her father was a liability, and therefore the leading reason as to why she might try to escape. Either way her father would end up dead. 

 

“Bist du dir sicher?”

 

Are you sure?

 

Dr. Schaffer questioned a second time, and she almost thought she heard pity in his voice.

 

But his lips were curled into an amused smile and she reminded herself he was a man who could not feel.

 

“Meine Antwort spielt keine Rolle. Er wird so oder so sterben.”

 

My answer doesn’t matter. He will die either way.

 

She finally said.

 

“Ein intelligentes Mädchen.”

 

Intelligent girl.

 

Dr. Schaffer‘s lip lifted upwards in a smirk.

 

He pulled the trigger.

 

Lucy slammed into her father who fell with a gasp. The bullet tinkered against the ground with a deafening shatter and her father struggled to stand as Lucy stood protectively with her hands outstretched. 

 

Dr. Schaffer clicked his tongue and she flinched, body snapping to attention. He grinned and pulled the trigger a second time. She rushed forwards and pushed her father towards the door but she was slow- too slow- and her heart stuttered to a stop.

 

The scene didn’t slow down like it did in films. It was not glorified and there was barely any time between the bullet hitting him, and flesh tearing. 

 

Blood pooled beneath her hands as her father hit the ground with a thud. She blinked numbly and kneeled to the floor as she carefully pulled her father’s head into her lap. His eyes were wide in pain and she was horrified to see he was still alive. The bullet had pierced an artery and not his heart, or his head. He was going to bleed to death at a slow and grueling pace. 

 

She could do nothing about it.

 

“Tut mir leid.”

 

I’m sorry.

 

She said blankly.

 

“Dir muss nichts leid tun.”

 

You have nothing to be sorry for.

 

He muttered and Dr. Schaffer clapped his hands.

 

“Steh auf, Soldat.”

 

Get up, Soldier.

 

He ordered and Lucy slipped her finger around her father’s dog tags, tugging them off of his head. She grasped them in her hand before looping them over her neck. She reluctantly let go of her father who held tight to her. 

 

She stood and turned to face Dr. Schaffer.

 

He seemed surprised by her emotionless expression, and smiled.

 

“Nicht einmal eine Träne?”

 

Not even a tear?

 

He asked.

 

Lucy’s nostrils flared but she remained silent. He stepped towards her father, exhaling a puff of smoke. She watched as he stared her father down with a tilted head. He twiddled the cigarette in his hand and sighed.

 

“Wie schade.”

 

What a shame.

 

He said with a shrug, before slamming the heel of his boot into her father’s neck.

 

She gasped, sheer panic traveling through her body. Her knees hit the ground with a crack and she tried to move forwards but her muscles locked like she was a corpse. She tried to clench her hands into fists but they stayed outstretched on the metal floor, trembling. She let out fast short breaths, unable to draw in enough air as her lungs shuddered like they were filled with lead.

 

She felt Dr. Schaffer approach but was unseeing.

 

He crouched in front of her and she blinked furiously as her body failed to crawl away. He examined her for a moment before sitting on the ground. Sighing, he grabbed her waist and pulled her upwards. She leaned her head against his shoulder with exhaustion, body stiff with panic. He placed a hand behind her neck and she shivered as he tilted her head towards her father’s body.

 

“Das wäre nicht passiert, wenn du nur zugehört hättest.”

 

That wouldn’t have happened if you’d just listened.

 

He said softly, tapping his hand against her cheek.

 

A choked breath left her lips and Dr. Schaffer stilled, breathing slowly. He didn’t move, his cigarette balanced between his forefinger and middle finger. She could hear the rhythmic pace of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest. 

 

It took her a minute to realize he was trying to calm her down and she listened, inhaling slowly. 

 

Five or ten minutes passed and Dr. Schaffer pressed two fingers besides her neck to check her pulse. Once he seemed satisfied he stood abruptly, and Lucy tumbled to the ground with a sharp thud.

 

“Alles, was dir passiert, ist deine Schuld, Verfall.”

 

Everything that happens to you is your fault, Decay.

 

He said sharply and Lucy almost- almost wished he had actually cared for a second. The man let out a puff of smoke and slammed her cell door shut.

 

The locks clicked in place, and Lucy laid her head against the floor, knowing her father’s unblinking gaze would watch her throughout the night.

 

Chapter 8: Seven

"In the midst of chaos there is also opportunity.”

Oświęcim, Poland

July, 1941

LUCY LAY UNMOVING ON the ground, arms wrapped around her torso. Paths of dried blood trailed her back, and her body ached with every breath she took. Her eyes remained unblinking as she heard the locks to her room click open. She shut her eyes slowly as the door creaked, footsteps drawing closer. A shuddering breath left her lips and she opened her eyes when a warm hand gently grabbed her arm. A blurry face stared down at her with wary concern and she felt him slip his  arm beneath her knees. He lifted her off the ground and she let out a sharp hiss, pain like stabbing knives twisting in her stomach. 

 

Lucy looked down the hall blearily as he carried her, walking slowly and carefully. They passed the temperature therapy rooms, and the infirmary. She tilted her head curiously and took a closer look at the man holding her. She recognized Dr. Fenhoff’s frown and sweet relief filled her veins. 

 

Dr. Fenhoff had been intrigued- to say the least- and agreed to work with Dr. Schaffer out of curiosity. But she’d learned fairly quickly that Dr. Fenhoff hated violence with a passion. In turn, he held great distaste for his newfound colleague, and offered to be lenient towards Lucy.

 

She breathed softly as he pushed open the bathroom door and placed her in the bathtub besides the farthest wall. He grabbed a towel and hooked it across the pole of the shower curtain. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he pulled the curtain closed.

 

Lucy was comforted by the rare moment of privacy and pried her bloody shirt off her shoulders. She turned the faucet and warm water rushed into the tub. She held her hands underneath it and splashed a handful of it on her back. She could feel the ridges on her back- whip lashes that had healed within less than a day- and she swallowed anxiously. She cleaned the rest of her body and grabbed the towel, drying herself enough. 

 

The curtain rings clicked as Dr. Fenhoff pushed it open. He held a stack of new clothes in his hand and she took them robotically, nodding in thanks. He shut the curtain and Lucy changed as swiftly as possible before stepping out of the tub. She held her hands outwards, palm-open. Dr. Fenhoff sighed as he grabbed her wrists and clicked silver bracelets around her hands. The thin bands blinked green as she lowered her hands.. 

 

He handed her a rubber band and she pulled her wet hair into a tight ponytail.

 

“Ваша сила ослабла из-за недостатка тренировок. Сегодня вы присоединитесь к евреям в казармах. Доктор Шеффер ожидает, что вы будете действовать безупречно. Понял?”

 

Your strength has weakened due to lack of training. Today you will join the Jews in the barracks. Dr. Schaffer expects you to perform with perfection. Understood?

 

He said and Lucy lowered her hands at her sides. 

 

“Подтверждаю, сэр.”

 

Confirmed, sir.

 

She said.

 

Dr. Fenhoff patted her casually on the shoulder.

 

“Помни, вы знаете, что лучше.”

 

Remember, you know what’s best.

 

He said and she clasped her hands behind her back.

 

The words were too familiar to her ears, and she snapped her head to the side as he spoke. She blinked fiercely as Dr. Schaffer shot her a pitiful smile.

 

“Лучше, если вы подчинитесь.”

 

What is best is you comply.

 

Lucy shuffled on her feet restlessly. The sequence had been repeated so many times she knew every sentence and phrase Dr. Fenhoff used. She felt her body tense and she counted her breath in order to distract herself. Complete control over her mind was proven impossible but enough pushing encouraged her mind and muddled her thoughts.

 

She dropped her gaze to the floor.

 

“Подчинение будет вознаграждено.”

 

Compliance will be rewarded.

 

He smiled softly and Lucy lowered her head.

 

Dr. Fenhoff turned on his feet and Lucy followed behind him in silence. She winced as she travelled down the stairs, each step sending a sharp pain through her legs. She stepped out of the hospital for the first time since she’d entered the camp and she blinked harshly as the sun shined brightly from the horizon. Dr. Fenhoff guided her past barracks and she watched prisoners at work. Some dug holes, and others carried burdensome sacks of sand. She turned back to the doctor as he stopped in front of an open barrack. 

 

She stepped inside to see men standing in rows of five. They must’ve been new as an SS officer marched back and forth calling for locksmiths, carpenters, electricians and watchmakers to step forwards. She tilted her head at the gaunt faces turning to look at her, and the SS officer stopped at the sight of her.

 

“Guten morgen, Arzt Fennhoff.” 

 

Good morning, Dr. Fennhoff

 

The man greeted.

 

Dr. Fennhoff smiled.

 

“Dir auch- ah- einen guten Morgen, Sergeant Lohmer.”

 

And good morning to you, Sergeant Lohmer.

 

He said, struggling subtly with German.

 

He waved a hand at Lucy.

 

“Der Soldat wird sich dir anschließen.Die Insassen werden heute marschieren und Schaufeln.”

 

The Soldier will join you. The inmates march and shovel today.

 

Sergeant Lohmer looked her over once before nodding at Dr. Fennhoff.

 

The inmates shifted uneasily on their feet and Lucy wondered how horribly they’d been treated. She entered one of the ranks of five, besides a boy who looked to be at least sixteen. She remained silent, lips pressed into a thin line as the kid looked at her curiously.

 

She watched Dr. Fennhoff turn on his heel and leave. Her eyes shifted to the ground as Sergeant Lohmer walked to the exit of the barrack. He stared at the inmates before waving his hand.

 

“Raus! Lauf! Beeil dich!”

 

Out! Run! Hurry!

 

He shouted and the inmates sprinted out of the barracks.

 

Lucy was hit with sudden familiarity and she instantly turned, running past the men in her rank and towards the front of the men. There were SS soldiers holding batons and whips, hitting the unfortunate men who couldn’t avoid them. Lucy was surprised when a baton cracked against her arm, realizing the men were either weak, or her pain tolerance had simply increased. 

 

She continued to run until she reached another barrack. 

 

She turned around and watched the inmates pant, hands leaning against their knees. An SS soldier came behind the men who tried to rest, slamming his baton across their heads. Men staggered forwards, threatening to collapse. Two skinnier men fell to the ground, and the SS soldiers beat them brutally.

 

When the inmates finally shuffled back in line, they were handed heavy construction shovels. Lucy held the object in front of her, satisfied when it met her waist whilst leaning against it. She followed the men out of the barracks and they were told to run again, this time with the weight of their shovels. 

 

Lucy decided not to sprint past the inmates, instead finding herself besides the sixteen year old boy who struggled to drag his feet forwards.

 

She looked at him and he lifted his head to catch her gaze. She tilted her head in a slight nod, encouraging the boy. His lips tilted into a tiny smile and she ran besides him. An SS soldier attempted to bring a whip down on the boy but Lucy sidestepped and caught the blunt edge of it instead. The boy stared with sudden terror and Lucy sighed as she continued forwards.

 

“Bist du in Ordnung?”

 

Are you okay?

 

He whispered and Lucy glanced down at her arm as blood trickled down her skin.

 

She remained silent, instead tilting her arm towards him. He glanced at it, panting breathlessly as they kept themselves moving. His eyes widened as the skin slowly pulled itself together, leaving nothing but a faint ridged line, which would disappear within a few days. He looked up at her in awe, and by the time he turned to focus on his feet, they had made it to their destination.

 

Workers surrounded several ditches, and Lucy could see one filled with bodies and ashes. She thought of the cremating slot in HYDRA’s lab and wondered if Subject 015 was among the scattered ashes. 

 

Her eyes settled on the boy as he walked over towards an unoccupied edge of the pit. He pushed his shovel into the dirt, arms trembling with strength. He discarded his small pile of mud and went to dig again. Lucy stepped towards him and clicked her shovel against his.

 

He stopped and she pushed her shovel into the ground, before putting her foot on the side of it. 

 

He watched with confusion as she pressed her foot harshly into the ground. She kicked the handle of the shovel forward and a pile of dirt dislodged itself. She lifted the shovel and discarded the earthy mud behind her, a stack slightly bigger than his. She raised a competitive eyebrow and the boy wiped sweat off his brow.

 

His lips raised in a tiny smile and he hurriedly pushed his shovel to the ground.

 

Lucy continued to shovel at a moderate pace, amused by the boy who tried to keep up with her pace. She ignored the pain traveling down her back, knowing it would be worse later anyway. 

 

She noticed the boy’s movements grow sluggish as he huffed and wiped his temple. Lucy didn’t show her concern as he threw dirt over his shoulder. He dropped his shovel into the ditch and dropped to his chest in order to grab it. One of the supervising soldier’s walked over with narrowed eyes and Lucy vaguely noticed. The boy grabbed his shovel and tried to push himself onto his feet. His knees buckled and Lucy blinked as the man lifted his baton. He raised his arm and she slammed her foot into it. The baton dropped from his hand and she caught it, throwing it into the ditch. The man glared at her harshly and drew his pistol. 

 

He pulled the trigger and Lucy screamed.

 

Electricity sparked through her body as the bullet dissolved into dust. The shackle on her left wrist blinked red and she breathed heavily as her arm remained limp to one side. 

 

The soldier lifted his foot to kick her and she rolled, jumping to her feet. He turned to face her and she slammed her foot into his back. He let out a strangled cry as he fell into the ditch they’d been digging. Lucy glanced at the boy who managed to stand, looking at her with relief.

 

She turned back and realized the other inmates were staring at her, wide eyed. Other SS officers watched on with wary surprise, walking towards her with caution. 

 

She looked down at the man in the ditch as he stood. 

 

“Aufenthalt. Und schließe deine Augen. Bitte.”

 

Stay. And close your eyes. Please.

 

She muttered to the boy.

 

He nodded slowly as he shut his eyes and Lucy rolled her shoulder before jumping into the ditch as well. She stretched her left arm and punched the man hard across the face. He staggered backwards and tried to swing his fist at her in fury. She ducked and jumped onto his back. She hooked her leg around his thigh and flipped him onto the ground. She rolled over and kicked the man in the ribs swiftly. He let out a cry as his ribs cracked and she leaned down, wrapping her hand around his neck.

 

She trembled as she raised him in the air.

 

There were shouts of alarm and Lucy heard the sound of guns cocking. SS officers surrounded her hurriedly, and the boy she was hellbent on protecting climbed into the ditch, inching closer to her. His eyes were shut and Lucy put a hand on his shoulder as he reached blindly with shaking hands. 

 

“- Sie hat gerade angegriffen, sir! Es gab keinen Grund-“

 

she just attacked, sir! There was no reason-

 

She heard Sergeant Lohmer exclaim and Lucy looked up to see Dr. Schaffer stepping towards the commotion.

 

He stopped and waved his hand at the sergeant who closed his mouth, looking unsurely. 

 

Her gaze flickered to the ground quickly, and she dropped the man she’d been suffocating. She wrapped an arm around the boy, staring at Dr. Schneider as he smiled, exhaling a puff of smoke from his cigarette. 

 

The soldier on the ground coughed and slowly sat up as he breathed.

 

“Du willst den Juden beschützen?”

 

You want to protect the Jew?

 

Dr. Schaffer questioned.

 

Lucy blinked as her stomach twisted in a knot. She shuffled uneasily on her feet and cleared her throat.

 

“Bestätigt, sir.”

 

Confirmed, sir.

 

She said.

 

Dr. Schaffer pursed his lips, and inspected the man collapsed in the dirt. He shrugged as he drew a breath from his cigarette.

 

“Töte ihn.”

 

Kill him.

 

He ordered.

 

Lucy felt a shudder travel down her spine as the words bounced against her skull. She glanced at the man who stared at her with horror. 

 

She knew what was best- what was best was to comply- 

 

She inhaled sharply as her blood ran cold, limbs stiffening. She tried to clear her thoughts but the words repeated in her head like a song with no end and she stepped forwards. Again, and again, every step only affirming her intentions.

 

The man struggled to scramble backwards as she sped forwards with sudden determination. Her hand wrapped around the man’s neck fiercely, feeling his bones creak and groan in protest. She stared, tilting her head when the man’s windpipe crumbled under her grip. A crack resounded and she let him fall. Her hand returned to her side as she breathed with utter calmness.

 

Her expression was chillingly blank.

 

She shuffled to face Dr. Schaffer as he smiled.

 

Lucy crouched in front of the boy warily, protectively holding one arm forwards.

 

Dr. Schaffer stepped into the ditch and approached her with ease. Her eyes flickered back and forth with uncertainty as her body tensed with anticipation. The scientist held his hands upwards, balancing his cigarette between his lips. He looked at her like she was an unkempt animal needing to be tamed, and Lucy was too numb to care.

 

“Nicht schießen, Verfall. Das hast du gut gemacht.”

 

Stand down, Decay. You did well.

 

He said and the compliment warmed her heart uncomfortably.

 

She slowly stood to her full height, standing to attention.

 

Dr. Schaffer inspected the boy standing behind her and waved him forwards with a friendly look.

 

Lucy shifted as the boy stepped forwards reluctantly, examining Dr. Schaffer’s intentions with agitation.

 

“Alter?”

 

Age?

 

He questioned.

 

The boy swallowed thickly.

 

“Achtzehn.”

 

Eighteen.

 

He said with an accent vaguely reminiscent of Peggy’s.

 

Dr. Schaffer frowned and narrowed his eyes.

 

Lucy breathed through her nose in an attempt to remain calm. 

 

“Sei ehrlich, junge, ich werde nicht noch einmal Fragen. Alter?”

 

Be honest, boy, I won’t ask again. Age?

 

He questioned and the boy rubbed his arm uncertainly.

 

“Fünfzehn.”

 

Fifteen.

 

He mumbled nervously.

 

Dr. Schaffer nodded.

 

“Ihr Name?”

 

Your name?

 

He continued.

 

The boy breathed nervously.

 

“Joseph Rollins.” 

 

Lucy’s heart thumped against her chest as she inched closer to the boy protectively.

 

“Bist du Jude?”

 

Are you Jewish?

 

Dr. Schaffer huffed and the SS Soldier’s watching the show snickered.

 

The boy seemed taken aback by the question.

 

“Um, N-Nun, Nein, sir.”

 

Um, w-well, no, sir.

 

He said after a moment.

 

Dr. Schaffer raised an eyebrow and Lucy looked confused as she listened.

 

“Warum bist du dann hier, Sohn?”

 

Then why are you here, son?

 

He asked.

 

His voice was dangerously calm, and the boy chewed on the inside of his lip anxiously.

 

“Meine Familie half, Sie zu verstecken.”

 

My family helped hide them.

 

He confessed and Dr. Schaffer leaned back. 

 

He turned to Sergeant Lohmer, waving his hand towards the boy- Joseph.

 

“Reinige ihn, gib ihm Kleidung, schicke ihn zu Dr. Fenhoff.”

 

Clean him, give him clothes, send him to Dr. Fenhoff.

 

He ordered and Sergeant Lohmer opened his mouth in protest.

 

Dr. Schaffer shot him a glare and Sergeant Lohmer shut his mouth smartly. 

 

He nodded and narrowed his eyes at the boy with distaste.

 

“Sie Folgen.”

 

You, follow.

 

He snapped and the boy hurried on his feet, sending Lucy a fearful look.

 

She blinked and attempted to send him a look of encouragement. The boy tried his best to smile as he followed Sergeant Lohmer, disappearing down the road.

 

Her expressionless face melted as she turned her head back to the corpse on the ground, then Dr. Schaffer. Her eyes watered and she shivered as he knelt besides the corpse of the man she’d killed. 

 

“Hier.”

 

Here.

 

He pointed besides him and Lucy felt her limbs move. 

 

She dropped to the ground harshly and he grabbed her trembling arm. He placed two of her fingers on the man’s neck- evidently, there was no pulse.

 

She clamped a hand over her mouth and swallowed vomit as her hand shook. Dr. Schaffer closed his fingers around hers, putting a finger to his lips. She didn’t cry and remained silent as he held her hand, keeping it still.

 

“Das war nicht so schwer, oder?”

 

Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?

 

He asked and Lucy shook her head.

 

It was the most horrifying thing she’d ever done and she barely thought twice about it because compliance was rewarded.

 

He patted her head and she stilled.

 

“Du musst das nur tun.”

 

I just need you to do that.

 

He waved his hand at the corpse, smiling with approval.

 

“Noch einmal.”

 

One more time.

Chapter 9: Eight

"When a person acts without knowledge of what they think, need or want, they do not yet have the option of choosing to act differently.”

Bavaria, Germany

October, 1940

RETURNING TO THE HYDRA base in Bavaria was just as exciting as traveling to Auschwitz- in other words Lucy had the sudden urge to throw up but managed to keep it down. After she’d murdered one person, killing the next and the next didn’t bother her as much as it should’ve. Of course, all the men she managed to kill were SS officers who beat more men to death then she could count. Nevertheless, Dr. Schaffer seemed satisfied with her sheer capability to kill, and Lucy was marginally terrified he didn’t care who or what she destroyed- as long as she was destroying something. Lucy never wanted to kill anyone- that was true- but she couldn’t help but wonder if the world would be a better place without Schutzstaffel soldier’s stepping on Jews.

 

Dr. Schaffer showed his ID to the guard in the main hall as Lucy stared down at her hands and rotated the cuffs on her wrists. She didn’t really understand how they worked, nor did she really want to know- she was only grateful it wasn’t around her neck.

 

Her eyes flitted across the entrance and she could hear the sound of agents rushing back and forth with excitement and curiosity. If Lucy knew one thing about HYDRA, it was the fact rumors travelled fast, and nearly every man was intrigued by her very existence. 

 

Once Dr. Schaffer was cleared to enter, Lucy straightened, her back as straight as a board. She kept her head horizontal to the ground as she stepped forwards in calculated strides, following Dr. Schaffer as he led her towards the training rooms.

 

Nurses and doctors stared at her with hushed whispers, and Lucy was hit with sudden nostalgia when Peggy’s familiar brown curls came into view. She turned her head to look at her and Lucy almost stopped in her tracks. Peggy’s eyes widened with surprise, before instantly frowning with concern. Lucy quickly dropped her gaze and focused on the heels of Dr. Schaffer’s shoes. Her steps were silent as Dr. Schaffer turned right, leaving Peggy to herself.

 

Lucy walked past groups of agents who looked at her with awe. She blinked and paid them no attention as Dr. Schaffer pushed open a familiar door. It took her a moment to recognize it before she realized they had entered the training room. She stepped past the doorway, surprised to find herself content in a place she once hated. 

 

She stood at the center of a training mat as Dr. Schaffer grabbed her wrists and clicked her silver shackles off. She stood as still as possible, watching the red blinking light melt away. He put both cuffs in his lab coat, and stepped back, grinning from ear to ear. She lowered her hands and breathed calmly as the door opened behind him. A guard stepped inside while dragging a man with hands and feet tied tightly together. A harsh feeling of deja vu punched her gut and she cringed when the guard threw him onto the floor. He nodded at Dr. Schaffer, then left with a grunt. 

 

Lucy’s eyes settled on the target as he snapped his head side to side furiously. His voice of protest was muffled under the sack around his head, and she could vaguely hear his Italian accent.

 

“Ver.”

 

Dr. Schaffer said with a touch of fondness.

 

Lucy pried her eyes away from the man and snapped to attention. She never really noticed when Verfall had shortened to Ver, but she didn’t dare question it. Dr. Schaffer, who crossed his arms over his chest and Lucy blinked. He was without his cigarettes and she knew it slightly annoyed him, so she expected an unjustified blow to the face. Instead, he grabbed her forearm with utmost care, his hand noticeably warm and calloused.

 

“Du musst tun, was am besten ist, Ver.”

 

You have to do what is best, Ver.

 

He spoke softly, and Lucy shivered at the words, a tremor traveling up her arm.

 

“Bitte.”

 

Please.

 

She whispered and Dr. Schaffer’s smile widened.

 

“Nur noch einmal.”

 

Just one more time.

 

He said and Lucy anxiously snapped her head to the side, eyes flickering back and forth frantically.

 

He had said the same thing again and again, after every soldier died, and she wanted to say one more time had become three times, five times, six times- but she kept her mouth shut and tried not to believe him.

 

Dr. Schaffer leaned his lips towards her ear.

 

“Folgebereitschaft wird belohnt.”

 

Compliance will be rewarded.

 

He whispered and Lucy straightened at the phrase, the frantic look in her eyes fading away. She relaxed as the door to the room opened once again.

 

Lucy stared as Schmidt walked inside with a thin lipped frown, eyes narrowing as he scrutinized her silently. Behind him followed Dr. Zola who adjusted his glasses and inspected Lucy with the utmost care, frowning here and there whenever he caught sight of a blemish. 

 

Abraham entered and stood a few feet behind both men, brows furrowed with concern. His eye bags were gone and he looked well rested. Lucy was glad he seemed better than before. Behind him followed Peggy with her perfect curl, wheeling in a steel basin Lucy recognized- it was meant for corpses. 

 

She didn’t acknowledge their presence as she shifted her gaze to Dr. Schaffer. He smiled charmingly before stepping back and facing Schmidt.

 

“Henry, ich nehme an, du hast eine scheinbar unerreichbare Leistung vollbracht?”

 

Henry, I suppose you have accomplished a seemingly unattainable feat?

 

Schmidt questioned, nodding his head towards Lucy.

 

Dr. Schaffer chuckled and shook his head.

 

“Schwierig, ja, aber nicht unerreichbar.”

 

Difficult, yes, but not unattainable.

 

He replied brightly.

 

Lucy’s gaze dropped to the struggling man on the floor ignoring Dr. Schaffer as he conversed with Schmidt. 

 

She could feel Abraham and Peggy staring at her, focused, and she felt a twinge of guilt traveling through her body. Lucy remembered what she had told them before she had left, but she’d killed anyway. Maybe that’s why Peggy was surprised- Lucy shouldn’t have returned until November. That had been the goal, but she’d crumbled faster than expected. Pain did nothing to encourage her, but watching a fifteen year old teen drop to the ground and die- all because she couldn’t prevent it. . .she couldn’t stand idly by and do nothing.

 

She inhaled sharply at the thought, and faintly wondered if Dr. Schaffer had really let the boy- Joseph- go. She wondered if any prisoner ever left Auschwitz on their feet, not traveling through the wind as ashen remains.

 

She shuffled on her feet restlessly at the absence of orders, and felt a sickening amount of relief when Dr. Schaffer turned to her.

 

His smile never left his lips as he walked over to the target and grabbed his shoulder roughly. He dragged the man on his knees and stopped in front of Lucy.

 

Schmidt watched with narrowed eyes, and Dr. Zola turned his head with an annoyed sigh.

 

Lucy stared down at the angry man, tilting her head blankly.

 

“Töte ihn.”

 

Kill him.

 

Dr. Schaffer said, tapping a hand on her wrist.

 

“Ohne deine Hände.”

 

Without your hands.

 

Lucy swallowed thickly and clasped her hands behind her back. Dr. Schaffer stepped back, standing beside Schmidt as he observed her. A shiver travelled up her spine and she noticed Dr. Zola turn to look at her with sudden interest. She didn’t squirm as the man beneath her started to shout in alarm. 

 

She breathed through her nose and lifted her head- warm chocolate brown eyes, hot chocolate on cold nights, dark-cinnamon- Peggy caught her gaze and she froze. There was no smile on her lips, no frown either. She just seemed resolute with a hint of worry. Judgement was absent in her gaze and it was the most foreign thing Lucy had ever seen.

 

Her eyes flickered to Abraham who gazed at her forlornly, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

 

She chewed the inside of her lip and felt Dr. Schaffer shift on one foot. That was all the encouragement she needed, and she activated her abilities. She narrowed her eyes at the man’s forehead, tearing away skin and flesh to find a clearer picture of his brain stem, thalamus, and cerebral cortex- before arranging their structures. A headache travelled across her head but she ignored it expertly as the man’s brain started to liquify. He stopped shouting, slumping to the ground, blood staining the sack. Once she was sure he was unconscious she dropped her eyes to his heart and tore apart molecule after molecule, leaving a whole the size of a bullet. 

 

Abraham and Peggy looked away while a disappointed sigh left Dr. Zola’s lips. The sound was undetectable to everyone except her. Dr. Schaffer smiled proudly and Lucy was transfixed on the approving look on his face.

 

Schmidt looked at her, thoroughly surprised. 

 

“Effizient, ja?”

 

Efficient, yes?

 

Dr. Schaffer questioned, turning to Schmidt.

 

“Sehr.”

 

Very.

 

He nodded.

 

Lucy flinched when Peggy walked towards her with the steel basin. She swallowed her guilt as Peggy bent down to pick up the corpse. 

 

She was nineteen, Lucy reminded herself, she shouldn’t be handling dead bodies. 

 

With hesitance she strode forwards and put a hand beneath Peggy’s. The younger girl looked up at her with surprise and Lucy grabbed the man effortlessly, dropping him into the basin delicately. She turned and Peggy said nothing as she pushed the basin out of the room, wheels clicking against the floor. 

 

“Soldat, Folge.”

 

Soldier, follow.

 

Dr. Zola ordered as he stepped forwards. 

 

Dr. Schaffer turned to his colleague sharply and Dr. Zola adjusted his glasses, a look of distaste crossing his eyes.

 

“Ich bringe Sie auf die Krankenstation, Henry.”

 

I’ll take her to the infirmary, Henry.

 

He said and Lucy looked between the two as they stared each other down.

 

Dr. Schaffer rolled his eyes and nodded.

 

Lucy didn’t move as Dr. Zola beckoned her forwards. She looked to Dr. Schaffer who’s lips twitched upwards at the motion.

 

“Arnim hat die Erlaubnis, Ihnen Befehle zu erteilen. Dr. Erskine nicht. Verstanden?”

 

Arnim has clearance to give you orders. Dr. Erskine does not. Understood?

 

He said softly and Lucy hated his tone of voice.

 

“Bestätigt, sir.”

 

Confirmed, sir.

 

She said monotonously.

 

Dr. Zola turned and she followed without further hesitance. Abraham walked besides her and she could feel the sheer horror reverberating off of his shoulders. She decided to ignore it as they exited the room and travelled down the hall in silence. 

 

They passed the infirmary ward for agents, and Lucy found herself in the same room she’d been patched up in before. Dr. Zola waved her towards the hospital bed and she shuffled towards it, plopping down on it without a thought. A startled gasp escaped her lips and she pulled herself off the bed sharply. Dr. Zola seemed to have been expecting the reaction, but Abraham looked like he’d been stabbed in the gut.

 

“Zu weich?”

 

Too soft?

 

Dr. Zola questioned.

 

Lucy shifted anxiously on her feet and quickly shook her head.

 

“N-Nein, tut mir leid, sir.”

 

N-No, I’m sorry, sir.

 

She muttered and Dr. Zola eyed her for a moment.

 

He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards a stool instead and she sat down easily. He patted her shoulder and she tried to relax as he walked over to an IV drip. He dragged it over to her and she held her arm out as he pricked her skin. She leaned her back against the wall as a familiar burning sensation travelled through her body.

 

Dr. Zola looked her over once, then turned to Abraham. 

 

“Dann lassen Sie sich Zeit, Doktor.”

 

Take your time, Doctor.

 

He said smoothly before striding out of the room.

 

The door shut with a familiar quiet click, and Lucy’s shoulders dropped. She shut her eyes and leaned her head against the wall.

 

Silence settled quickly and Abraham made no sound to break it. She inhaled deeply before prying her eyes open and staring at the ceiling. He cleared his throat a few times, and Lucy blinked harshly.

 

“Da war ein Junge.”

 

There was a boy there.

 

She spoke softly, turning her head to the side.

 

“Ein SS-Offizier wollte ihn schlagen- vielleicht zu Tode. Ich- Sie hatte-“

 

An SS officer was going to beat him- maybe to death. I- They had-

 

She shook her head.

 

“Dr. Schaffer hatte meinen Vater getötet. Ich hätte ihn töten können. Hielt ihn auf. Aber ich habe nicht.”

 

Dr. Schaffer had killed my father. I could’ve killed him. Stopped him. But I didn’t.

 

She looked at Abraham who faced her as he listened.

 

“Mein Vater war weit in die fünfziger Jahre. Aber der junge war fünfzehn. Er war zu jung. Ich konnte ihn nicht sterben lassen. Also habe ich - ich habe den Offizier getötet und-und dann habe ich einen anderen getötet - und einen anderen-und der junge wurde aus der Kaserne entfernt. Sie kleideten ihn an, fütterten ihn, behandelten ihn. Ich nicht-“

 

My father was well into his fifties. But the boy was fifteen. He was too young. I couldn’t let him die. So I- I killed the officer and- and then I killed another- and another- and the boy was removed from the barracks. They clothed him, fed him, treated him. I don’t-

 

She clenched her jaw.

 

“Ich weiß nicht mal, ob er noch lebt. Wenn es ein trick wäre. Aber ich habe getötet und ich habe wieder getötet. Heute.”

 

I don’t even know if he’s alive. If it was a trick. But I killed and I- I killed again. Today.

 

She lowered her head with shame and she half-expected Abraham to regard her with disgust. She waited for any reaction, and she heard him step towards her. He knelt in front of her, looking up with a sad smile on his lips.

 

“Lucy-“

 

He started, and Lucy was grateful to hear her name for the first time in months.

 

“- einen Feind oder einen Freund zu töten ist kompliziert zu rechtfertigen. Und das könnte niemals gerechtfertigt sein- das basiert allein auf der Meinung einer person. Aber ich vertraue darauf, dass du andere getötet hast, nur mit guten Absichten oder weil du bedroht wurdest.”

 

-killing an enemy or a friend is complicated to justify. And it could never be justified- that is based solely on a person’s opinion. But I trust you only killed others with good intentions, or because you were threatened to.

 

Abraham paused as Lucy curled her fingers into fists, shaking her head furiously.

 

“Ich habe Sie getötet, Abraham. Ich tat.”

 

I killed them, Abraham, I did.

 

She whispered and he took both of her hands, pressing them together.

 

“Ja. Ja- das habe sie.”

 

Yes. Yes- you did.

 

He nodded with agreement and Lucy’s eyes didn’t water.

 

She expected that to be it- she admitted she killed as much as they wanted and Abraham would think of her as a lost cause. He would escape with Peggy and leave her in this hell-

 

“Aber, gleichzeitig hast du es nicht getan.”

 

But, at the same time, you didn’t.

 

He said, cutting her thoughts off sharply.

 

She tilted her head, looking up with confusion.

 

“Ich entschuldige deine Taten nicht, Lucy, aber du musst verstehen, dass nichts davon das war, was du wolltest.”

 

I’m not excusing your actions, Lucy, but you have to understand none of that was what you wanted.

 

He gently poked at her heart and she bit the inside of her lip.

 

Something about the sentence bothered her and she looked down at her hands, before pulling them away from him. 

 

“Ich weiß- ich weiß nicht.”

 

I don’t- I don’t know.

 

She muttered and Abraham looked like he’d accidentally kicked a puppy, wherein she was the puppy.

 

He stood up and breathed deeply. It was a soft sigh that was meant for Abraham to collect himself in order to not cry with pity, but Lucy flinched out of habit and waited for a smack across the face. 

 

When no hit came, and Abraham only inhaled sharply, Lucy was suddenly horrified when she realized her brain had assessed Abraham as a threat she couldn’t escape.

 

“Ich bin - ich habe nicht-“

 

I’m- I didn’t-

 

He stammered.

 

Lucy rubbed her forearm nervously.

 

“Nein, Nein du-du hast nichts falsch gemacht. Es ist eine Gewohnheit. Tut mir Leid.”

 

No, no you- you did nothing Abraham. It’s a habit. I’m sorry.

 

She said with a gulp.

 

She couldn’t bear hurting Abraham’s feelings when he was such a kind-hearted man. 

 

Before he could reply the infirmary door opened and Peggy stepped inside with a small huff.

 

“One of these days I’m simply going to behead Dr. Zola and hang him up on my wall as a bloody decoration.” She scoffed, her British accent sharp with annoyance.

 

Abraham coughed into his fist and shot her a weary smile.

 

“Hello again, Peggy.” He said.

 

Lucy blinked a few times as Peggy waved at both of them.

 

“Good afternoon to both of you.” She said as she stepped over to the hospital bed, plopping down rather disgracefully. 

 

She flattened out her nurse's skirt before turning to Lucy and inspecting her face for a few seconds. She seemed satisfied with the lack of bruises and scars, smiling slightly.

 

“How are you feeling?” She asked gently.

 

Lucy blurted the first answer that came to mind.

 

“Operational.” 

 

Peggy managed not to drop the smile on her face. 

 

“Yes, I can see that.” She said with a soft chuckle.

 

The sound was music to her ears and she realized just how much she missed Peggy’s voice.

 

“But how are you feeling? Tired?” She questioned and Lucy looked down at the floor.

 

She fiddled with her fingers in a soft pattern- one, two, pause, one, two, three, pause- and Peggy hummed patiently under her breath.

 

“Afraid.” She admitted softly and Peggy nodded with understanding.

 

Peggy opened her mouth, before shutting it. She shifted in her seat a few times and clasped her hands together. She seemed nervous as she avoided Lucy’s gaze.

 

“Lucy, I need to ask you a few questions. Can you answer truthfully?” She asked.

 

Lucy straightened and felt her muscles tense. She went rigid for a few seconds and Abraham shot Peggy a deep frown.

 

She didn’t acknowledge the look, keeping her eyes glued to Lucy.

 

“Confirmed.” She said blankly.

 

Peggy cringed at her response, breathing deeply.

 

“What are your standing orders?” She asked cautiously.

 

“The Soldier, Codename: Decay, is to report to the nearest standing officer who has clearance to give orders and punishments as necessary.” She recited.

 

A part of her recoiled at the sentence that left her lips and she ignored the bile threatening to climb her throat.

 

Abraham looked reasonably angry and she was grateful Peggy was able to keep her face flat.

 

“So if I asked you to meet Abraham and I in the hall of your cell, could you? Without an order?” Peggy questioned.

 

Lucy lifted her head sharply.

 

“Yes.” She answered confidently.

 

Peggy relaxed at her answer, lips curling upwards in a brilliant smile. Lucy stared, perplexed by her reaction, and Abraham slowly recovered from his controlled rage.

 

A look of realization crossed his face and he looked so happy he could cry.

 

“Why?” He asked and Lucy opened and closed her mouth like a fish.

 

When she thought about it, she didn’t really know, and her heart jumped, thumping against her rib cage. She struggled to find the correct answer and found herself panicking, knowing there had to be a wrong answer. 

 

“I-I don’t- I- shouldn’t- I don’t know-“ she stammered anxiously.

 

She was cut off by Peggy who patted her hand gently.

 

“Because you want to.” She said.

 

Lucy tried not to look appalled, much less horrified. She wasn’t allowed to want- Dr. Schaffer had been excellent in teaching that lesson- and she furiously shook her head.

 

“I don’t want-“ she all but whimpered, eyes flickering to the door in fear.

 

Peggy’s smile turned sad, eyes twinkling with regret.

 

“Yes you do.”

 

She said it with such finality, Lucy almost believed her.

Chapter 10: Nine

“It always seems impossible, until it’s done.”

Bavaria, Germany

November, 1940

LUCY TAPPED HER FINGER against the metal wall of her room, lips twitching at the soft click of her nails. It was odd how she found delight in simple sounds that stimulated the parts of her mind she had been taught to shut off. She stared at the wall ahead of her, legs pulled to her chest. She was sitting besides her cot with her back pressed against the corner of the room, afraid she would sink into the thin bed and disappear. 

 

A tray of food had been set on her desk, but she had promptly ignored it when an order had not been given to eat. She wasn’t hungry either way, and she wasn’t sure what was in that mush. Her ears twitched at the softest sound of footsteps, and she nearly jumped when the locks to her room started to turn. She anxiously pressed herself against the wall, wishing she could disappear. She waited, and waited, until the door creaked open a crack.

 

“Lucy.” 

 

She heard Dr. Zola’s voice and stood to her feet, furrowing her eyebrows with confusion. 

 

She walked towards the door, stopping just in front of it. In a sudden movement he pushed the door open and grabbed her forearm, pulling her out of the room. She stumbled and he shut it quietly behind her, eyes flickering back and forth down the hall. 

 

“Do not scream.” He said sharply.

 

Lucy swallowed thickly and stared at the floor. He grabbed her wrists and pressed a circular disk to the cuffs on her hands. She slammed her teeth into her tongue as electricity sparked through her body. Her eyes watered with pain and she let out a short gasp. Dr. Zola sent her a sharp look and she quickly clamped her mouth shut.

 

The silver cuffs dropped and Dr. Zola caught the metal before it could clatter against the ground.

 

Lucy blinked furiously and breathed as evenly as possible. Dr. Zola pocketed the cuffs and shot her a thin-lipped smile.

 

“Disappear, Lucy. I better not see you again.” He muttered quietly.

 

He patted her once against the arm before turning on his heel and walking down the hall. She continued to watch him until he disappeared, and she dropped her gaze. 

 

She examined her hands and cautiously turned on her abilities. Her eyes flickered across the walls and she walked under the disguise of darkness. She easily avoided the guards and entered the hall across her cell. She caught sight of Peggy’s familiar brown curls and approached her. She stood besides Dr. Erskine who was adjusting a guards helmet over his head. 

 

Peggy swiveled on her feet and placed a hand on her heart as she breathed heavily. Lucy realized she’d scared the living daylights out of her and lowered her head in a silent apology. Peggy looked at her with a reassuring smile and Lucy glanced at Dr. Erskine who managed to look somewhat like a guard.

 

“Lucy, I need you to put your hands behind your back at all times, okay?” Peggy whispered softly.

 

Lucy nodded silently and she clasped her hands behind her back. Peggy and Dr. Erskine turned down the hall and Lucy hesitantly followed. She walked so Peggy was standing in front of her, and Dr. Erskine behind. They entered the main hall where night guards bustled back and forth. A few glanced at her with interest but left them unbothered. The three made it easily to the garage door, and Lucy was surprised by the lack of skepticism.

 

The guard at the entrance stepped forwards and stopped Peggy before she could walk past the doorway.

 

“Guten Tag, Elizabeth. Haben Sie einen besonderen Grund, warum Sie auf die Transportfahrzeuge zugreifen müssen?”

 

Afternoon, Elizabeth. Any particular reason you need to access the transport vehicles?

 

The guard questioned firmly, eyeing Lucy.

 

She didn’t blink, staring at the ground with clear submission. She waited for Peggy to speak and was intrigued when she let out a nervous laugh.

 

“Ja. Uns wurde befohlen, den Soldaten nach Berlin zu bringen.”

 

Yes. We were ordered to move the Soldier to Berlin.

 

She said with minimal confidence.

 

Lucy wondered if she was really nervous, or if she was merely acting. The guard tilted his head slightly, looking unconvinced, and he slowly lowered his hand to the gun in his holster.

 

“Wer gab den Befehl?”

 

Who gave the order?

 

He asked.

 

Peggy cleared her throat and shifted on her feet.

 

“Sie wissen, wie Dr. Schaffer ist.”

 

You know how Dr. Schaffer is.

 

She said anxiously and the man immediately dropped his hand from his gun.

 

He patted an almost comforting hand on Peggy’s shoulder, shaking his head with a sigh.

 

“Hölle ja ich Tue. Er hat dich nicht angeschrien, oder?”

 

Hell yeah I do. He didn’t yell at you, did he?

 

He questioned with a genuine tone of worry.

 

Peggy shook her head and he moved to the side as she muttered a quick farewell. Lucy passed the man alongside Abraham with no questions and he closed the door behind him. Abraham let out a relieved sigh as Peggy guided them towards a row of cargo trucks, which were being filled with firearms and chemicals. 

 

The guards barely shot them a glance as they moved boxes, and Lucy followed Peggy to the back of one of the trucks. One of the men raised an eyebrow and Peggy sent him a reassuring smile. He shrugged to himself and Lucy wondered if Peggy was a trusted individual. She turned to her and held a hand out, beckoning her into the truck. Lucy barely hesitated and climbed inside, maneuvering around the boxes.

 

She relaxed as the men finished packing the truck and looked at Peggy as she pulled the flap of the truck closed. Lucy stood in silence for a second, before her stomach twisted in a knot. She suddenly realized how outraged Dr. Schaffer would be if he realized she was gone, and she nervously stepped towards the driver's seat. 

 

Peggy shut the door as she sat down, Abraham to her left.

 

Lucy sat on one of the boxes and anxiously fiddled with her fingers.

 

“Are you okay, Lucy?” Peggy asked softly, looking at the rear view mirror.

 

Lucy was glad the back of the truck was directly connected to the front of it as she rubbed her forearm and hesitantly shook her head.

 

“What’s wrong?” She asked as she turned the key to the car.

 

Lucy felt the engine rev and her heart dropped as the truck started moving forwards. They drove out of the garage and started down the road. Several other trucks drove alongside them as they neared the gate entrance.

 

“This isn’t-“ Lucy blurted sharply and the truck came to a slow stop.

 

Peggy turned in her seat, curls bouncing at the sudden movement. She waited for her to continue and Lucy snapped her head to the side nervously.

 

“This isn’t allowed.” She continued fearfully. “He- Dr. Schaffer will be angry.”

 

She looked down and swallowed thickly.

 

“I don’t- I’ll make him upset.” She whispered. 

 

Peggy gazed at her for a moment and her face scrunched with anger. Lucy stared at the floor and shifted uncertainly as Peggy huffed and turned back, breathing in a shaky breath. The truck continued forwards and Lucy was careful to keep her lips sealed, afraid of angering her again.

 

Silence travelled throughout the vehicle and Lucy had the urge to jump out of the truck and crawl back to base. She needed to tell Dr. Schaffer what she’d done and be reprimanded for it. None of this was right and she had to physically ground herself by gripping the side of a moving box, unable to trust herself if she stood. 

 

“I’m not angry at you, Lucy.” Peggy suddenly said, voice as soft as possible. “I’m just. . .I’m just upset, all right? It’s-“

 

She shook her head.

 

“-It’s not your fault.”

 

Lucy lifted her head and gazed at her doubtfully. Peggy’s eyes were focused on the road, so Lucy looked away and tapped her finger against the side of the truck to distract herself. 

 

When they finally made it to the gate entrance, Peggy stopped the truck completely and rolled the window down as she shot the guard a dazzling smile.

 

“ID.” He said shortly with a yawn.

 

Peggy searched her pocket’s for a moment before pulling out a thin badge. She handed it to the guard who looked it over once. He handed it back to her but didn’t lift the barrier to the gate.

 

“Sie haben keine Freigabe, um dieses Fahrzeug zu fahren, Schwester.”

 

You have no clearance to drive this vehicle, nurse.

 

The man said coldly and Peggy’s smile dropped into a frown. 

 

She pocketed her badge and raised a defiant eyebrow.

 

“Ich fürchte, das Tue ich. Dr. schaffers Befehle.”

 

I’m afraid I do. Dr. Schaffer’s orders.

 

She said and the guard frowned.

 

He hesitated for a moment, before grabbing the transmitter around his waistband.

 

“Ich muss das per Funk überprüfen.”

 

I’ll have to radio check that.

 

He said and Peggy scoffed.

 

Lucy could almost see his eyebrow raise beneath his helmet as he tilted his head questioningly.

 

“Es ist 23 Uhr, agent. Glauben Sie, dass Sie immer noch Ihren Kopf haben werden, nachdem Sie Dr. Schaffer angerufen haben, nur um einen Befehl zu überprüfen, den er bereits erteilt hat?”

 

It’s 11pm, agent. Do you think you’ll still have your head after calling Dr. Schaffer just to double check an order he’s already given?

 

She questioned.

 

The agent slowly clipped the transmitter back on his waist, and cleared his throat. He waved at another guard who lifted the gate barrier. Peggy nodded at him with a smile and rolled her window up before driving out of the entrance. She drove behind the cargo trucks as they turned down the dirt road. They came across a crossroads, and the other trucks turned right while Peggy turned left.

 

Abraham pulled the helmet off of his head and pulled his glasses from his pockets. He placed them on his head and breathed heavily as the tension in his body slowly dissipated. Lucy’s eyes flickered across the forest and she tilted her head as another vehicle appeared ahead of them. Lucy stiffened as a few men piled out with rifles trained on them. 

 

Peggy slowed the car to a stop and pushed the car door open. All guns turned and she stepped out with her hand raised in a salute. The firearms dropped immediately and one of the men stepped forwards with a smile on his face. 

 

Peggy shook his hand in greeting and Lucy shifted in her seat, unsure of what to do. 

 

Abraham pulled his guard uniform off, revealing his usual attire without his lab coat. He turned to her and pointed behind her.

 

“I’ll be on the other side.” He said.

 

Lucy nodded sharply, and watched as he pushed his door open. He stepped out of the vehicle and she slowly stood, walking towards the back of the truck. She carefully avoided the boxes inside, passing one that wasn’t fully shut. She cocked her head to the side curiously and slightly tugged on the opening. She blinked at the five IV bags staring at her, lips tilting into a frown.

 

She shut it and hesitantly pulled the flap of the truck back. Abraham looked up at her with a soft smile and she hopped onto the ground, landing in a silent crouch. She stood again and Abraham walked towards Peggy. Lucy dropped her gaze to the ground and followed him as he approached the men. Peggy turned in the middle of her conversation, stepping to the side.

 

“Colonel Phillips, this is Dr. Abraham Erskine.” Peggy introduced.

 

Abraham grasped the man’s hand firmly, shaking it.

 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Doctor.” The man- Colonel Phillips- said with a bold smile.

 

“Good to meet you, Colonel.” Abraham smiled tiredly.

 

Lucy inched towards Peggy until she was right behind her. She nervously clutched onto the sleeve of her uniform, staring Colonel Phillips over Peggy’s shoulder. She narrowed her eyes calculatingly when Colonel Phillips caught her gaze.

 

She didn’t budge and Peggy reached for her without turning around, patting her arm reassuringly.

 

“Lucy, this is Colonel Phillips. He’s not a threat.” She said softly.

 

She nodded in understanding but her grip on Peggy’s shirt only tightened. She didn’t trust Peggy’s judgement and she wasn’t particularly interested in being demoted to test subject once again. 

 

Colonel Phillips raised an eyebrow, looking at Peggy with a justified look of confusion.

 

“Colonel Phillips,” Peggy waved her hand towards Lucy and she dropped her gaze to the ground, “this is the weapon I failed to take apart.”

 

Colonel Phillips blinked a few times, before shaking his head.

 

“That is. . .extremely inhumane.” His face scrunched in disgust. “We should get going before some Nazi’s decide to crash our party.”

 

He glanced at Peggy.

 

“Once we get back to base, you and I are going to have a chat about your new. . .pal there.”

 

Peggy opened her mouth to reply but Colonel Phillips turned on his heel, walking towards the back of the truck with Abraham. 

 

The soldiers besides him filed into their cars and Lucy watched as their headlights flickered on, the buzz of engines humming across the trees. 

 

She turned her head when Colonel Phillips and Abraham returned with six boxes. They packed them into the back of Colonel Phillips' army vehicle. He sat in the driver's seat with Abraham to his right, and Peggy moved to step forwards.

 

But she was rooted to the spot as Lucy held tight to her sleeve, refusing to let go. Peggy glanced back at her, lips pursed slightly.

 

“Lucy?” She said softly.

 

Lucy blinked, looking at her with an empty gaze.

 

“Are they going to use me too?” She questioned with no inflection to her tone.

 

Peggy’s eyes dimmed sadly and she gazed at her for a long few seconds. Lucy blinked at her expression and looked down nervously. She waited for Peggy to drag her towards the car or berate her for being hesitant, but two arms wrapped around her softly instead. She snapped her head up sharply in surprise and Peggy gently patted her back. 

 

She stiffened at the touch before slowly leaning into her embrace.

 

“No one's going to use you Lucy. Not like that. Not again. Okay? I promise.” She said reassuringly.

 

Lucy closed her eyes and wanted to tell her not to make promises she couldn't keep. But “okay” left her lips instead.

 

Peggy guided her to the backseat and Lucy sat down stiffly. She turned her head to gaze out the window as Colonel Phillips drove down the road. She knew the base would be in absolute chaos when they realized she was gone, and Schmidt would be outraged. She tried not to think of Dr. Schaffer and wondered if Dr. Zola would be okay- a part of her wished he’d come along too. 

 

Peggy rummaged around until she pulled a small red Stetson Aviatrix hat from a side compartment. She moved to put it on her hat then paused. She slowly pulled the hat towards her lap before placing it in Lucy’s hands.

 

She blinked and furrowed her eyebrows with confusion.

 

“Here.” Peggy said, grasping her hands.

 

Lucy watched with curiosity as Peggy placed the hat on top of her head. Lucy looked up at the hat and Peggy pulled a piece of Lucy’s hair behind her ear. She tilted her head and Peggy smiled softly.

 

“You look nice.” She complimented.

 

Lucy’s lips twitched upwards.

 

“Thank you.” She replied softly.

 

She stifled a yawn and turned back towards the window. She felt Peggy’s gaze linger on her before she cleared her throat.

 

“You should take a nap, Lucy.” Peggy said in a suggesting tone.

 

Lucy found the need to straighten and she inwardly scolded herself for doing so. She tried not to think of it as an order as her shoulders relaxed. She hated how automatic her movements were as she leaned her head against the headrest. 

 

Peggy looked conflicted and Lucy refrained from apologizing. 

 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

 

Lucy closed her eyes, knowing Peggy had nothing to apologize for.

Chapter 11: Ten

"This isn’t goodbye.”

Huntingdon, England

November, 1940

PEGGY HELD A PILE of neatly folded clothes, offering them to Lucy who took them slowly. After falling asleep in the car Lucy had become dead weight, tired enough to keep sleeping even after being carried into a plane. She hadn’t known it before, but the war had expanded overseas, and Lucy was more or less surprised by the realization Peggy’s army base was in England. 

 

She was currently standing in the center of an empty bunker, beds lining each wall. Lucy’s eyes dropped to the floor when other women walked back and forth, attempting to mind their own business but ultimately sending her curious and judgemental glances. Peggy seemed to notice her discomfort and she gently grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the room. Lucy followed expertly until Peggy stopped in front of another door.

 

She pushed it open to reveal a small bathroom connected to a shower. She walked inside and Peggy followed, shutting the door behind her. 

 

“I only had a few spares.” Peggy said in an apologetic tone, waving her hand towards the clothes Lucy was hugging.

 

She looked down at the blouse and pants in her hand, before looking up at her again.

 

“That’s okay.” She mumbled quietly.

 

She pulled Peggy’s red hat off her head, placing it carefully onto the sink counter. She placed her pile of clothes besides it and Peggy cleared her throat. She looked up and Peggy rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

 

“Is it alright if I change here?” She asked and Lucy managed not to look confused.

 

The question was irrelevant to her because this was far from her own bathroom, nor was she allowed much of any privacy. If Peggy wanted to stay she could, and if she didn’t want to, then she could leave. Lucy’s eyes flickered back and forth across the tiles, heart thumping against her chest with anxiety. Questions were always dangerous and she awkwardly avoided Peggy’s gaze. It wouldn’t bother her- at this point she would be surprised if anything did.

 

“It’s up to you?” Lucy ended up questioning her statement as Peggy’s expression morphed with anger.

 

Lucy immediately went to apologize when Peggy cut her off.

 

“It’s not up to me, Lucy.” She said, her voice extremely calm, betraying the grimace on her face. “I just thought you might want the company.”

 

Lucy blinked- because Peggy was right. She really wouldn’t mind the company. She nodded slowly but made no verbal answer. She didn’t want to order Peggy when it was meant to be the other way around- the thought stopped short in her head at the realization she was treating Peggy like Dr. Schaffer.

 

She quickly turned away from her as guilt riddled her body. She left Peggy to stand in the bathroom as Lucy stripped and changed efficiently. Her eyes flickered over to the mirror as she pulled her shirt on and paused. 

 

She’d seen the scars on her legs and arms, but it didn’t compare to the long jagged milky white lines across her stomach and neck. They had no deliberate line of purpose, and were scattered across her body like abstract art on a ripped canvas. There was one scar on the side of her face, starting from her ear, and reaching to her shoulder, and she vaguely remembered losing her hearing for a few days. 

 

With HYDRA, any wound she received wouldn’t be tended to, and she shouldn’t have been surprised they didn’t heal properly, but she was. She was too afraid to look at her back- it would be much worse.

 

She closed her eyes for a moment before pulling the shirt over her abdomen. She turned around to see Peggy dressed in navy blue sailor pants and a belle poque short sleeve, accompanied by a winter suit jacket. Peggy pulled on her shoes before turning around. A small smile settled on her lips, as Lucy tugged the sleeves to her white blouse, peaking out beneath her suit jacket. A pair of chalk stripe Marlene trousers were pulled to her waist, reaching shortly above her ankles. The clothes fit good enough, and she haphazardly held Peggy’s hat between her fingers.

 

“You look lovely.” She said and Lucy’s lips twitched upwards too.

 

They exited the bathroom and Lucy followed without question, head leveled. They stepped down the hall, and Lucy wondered where they were heading when Peggy started to speak.

 

“I have to speak with Colonel Phillips and he’s requested you remain with Abraham for the time being. It will only take a few minutes.” She informed.

 

Lucy jerked her head once in a nod and they continued down the hall. Soldier’s marched back and forth, shooting them curious gazes. Lucy dropped her eyes to the ground and passed them silently. She stopped when Peggy did, and she knocked gently on the door in front of her. There was a quiet call from inside the room and Peggy turned the knob with a smile. 

 

Abraham looked alive for the first time since Lucy had seen him and he adjusted his glasses with a brilliant grin. His eye bags were less noticeable and he had a journal open in his lap. He beckoned them inside and Peggy entered.

 

“Adjusting well, Doctor?” Peggy asked and Abraham’s eyes twinkled.

 

“Yes, yes. Of course.” He said.

 

Peggy moved to the side and Lucy stepped past the doorway hesitantly.

 

“Would you mind if Lucy stays here for a moment?” Peggy asked and Abraham shook his head.

 

“Of course not,” he said, scooting to the side of his bed, “here.”

 

He patted the spot besides him and Lucy stepped forwards, then glanced back at Peggy. She gave her a small nod of encouragement as she shut the door. Lucy listened to her footsteps echoing down the hall. Abraham shut his journal and she looked back to him. She sat down slowly and his gaze softened.

 

“How are you?” He questioned and she looked at her hands.

 

Her eyes flitted across the room as she activated her abilities, molecules floating in the air. She shut her eyes and breathed through her nose, shaking her head.

 

“Is. . .Is this real?” She asked quietly.

 

She felt Abraham shift on the bed and his hand pressed against her shoulder.

 

“Yes.” He answered immediately.

 

Lucy opened her eyes and glued her eyes to the door.

 

“He said there was a tracker on the Sol- on me.” She whispered.

 

Abraham rubbed her arm comfortingly, shaking his head.

 

“The cuffs were trackers, but they’re gone, aren’t they?” He said.

 

Lucy tilted her head and looked down at her hands. Her wrists were bare and she rubbed them, uncomfortable without the silver she was used to. 

 

She didn’t reply to Abraham’s sentence, instead focusing on the queasy feeling in her gut. She didn’t understand why she had the need to replace Dr. Schaffer’s position with someone else but she did. She was severely dependent, no matter how much she didn’t want to admit it, and Peggy had seemed to be the only option her mind had seen.

 

She locked her fingers together and frowned. 

 

“Abraham-“ she inhaled sharply, shaking her head “- Peggy is- she’s supposed to give me orders, isn’t she?”

 

Lucy lifted her gaze to stare at Abraham who furrowed his eyebrows with confusion. Lucy huffed.

 

“What do you mean?” He asked softly.

 

She looked away, pursing her lips. Tapping her fingers together, she mustered up the courage to confess how she felt.

 

“When you use medical equipment,” she started, “you clean and take care of it. Store it when necessary.”

 

Abraham’s eyebrows furrowed and he nodded, a frown on his lips as he realized she was comparing herself to an object.

 

“You have to handle it, Abraham, but- but Dr. Schaffer’s gone and-“ she shook her head with a bitter look, “-and Peggy’s taken care of me so. . .so it makes sense that- that my mind. . .”

 

She trailed off, cursing herself for stumbling over her words. A tremor travelled through her body and she snapped her head downwards as Abraham processed the information. She tapped her foot against the floor, hoping Abraham understood her words.

 

“Do you think she’s a handler?” He asked gently.

 

Lucy nodded sharply, relief filling her body as her shoulders slumped. She was glad Abraham understood, knowing he was the only one that could possibly know of HYDRA’s plans- she wasn’t particularly interested in their plans, as much as she was interested in the programming circling her brain. At a different time she vaguely thought of Peggy as a friend, but her return from Auschwitz had disrupted her mental processing, and all she saw was a superior officer.

 

“Mm, I see.” Abraham said, adjusting his glasses as he thought. “I think when she asked you about your standing orders in October, you may have subconsciously decided she was a superior officer.”

 

Lucy blanched at the realization. To know she was thinking of Peggy as a handler before they’d escaped was unfortunate- and something she would have to fix on her own. A small sigh escaped her lips and Abraham patted her arm gently before withdrawing his hand.

 

“That is something only time and patience can change.” He said gently, pressing his lips into a firm frown. “I wished I had the courage to help you sooner. For this, I am sorry.”

 

He bowed his head with guilt and Lucy slowly grasped his hand. He lifted his head and she squeezed his hand reassuringly.

 

“You would’ve died, Abraham.” She tilted her head. “And for what? You barely know me.”

 

Abraham shook his head, a sad smile on his lips.

 

“I know enough.” He said.

 

Lucy opened her mouth and the doorknob turned. She looked up, habitually straightening and holding her hands, open-palmed. If Abraham noticed he didn’t mention it as Peggy stuck her head between the door and the doorway. Lucy realized her hands were open and she clasped them together to hide the fact.

 

“I hope I’m not intruding.” She said and Abraham shook his head.

 

Lucy watched as Peggy sat in the bed across from them. She looked at both of them with a dazzling smile and Lucy’s eyes flickered with curiosity.

 

“I have good news for both of you.” She said brightly. “Colonel Phillips has allowed me a few months leave in order to help you, Lucy, adjust comfortably here in England.”

 

Lucy found the idea of living in England as intriguing, but dangerous. If she had another option, what would she do? Stay in an army base, stowed away until she died? Her brows furrowed and she nodded slightly.

 

“After those months, you can either choose to have a British citizenship and live here in England, or you have the choice of joining the SSR.” Peggy continued.

 

She paused to gauge Lucy’s reaction but she merely blinked and waited for Peggy to go on.

 

“It is a choice and an option, Lucy, it is not something you should be obliged to do. And you do not need to choose now.” She said carefully.

 

Lucy bit the inside of her lip and stopped herself from confirming the information. 

 

“Okay. I would like that.” She said before hurriedly adding- “Living with you, I mean. I’m not sure about. . .”

 

She trailed off.

 

Joining the army as an SSR agent was not the same as being a weapon- Lucy knew that- but it would be near impossible for her to treat herself as human. She was supposed to believe she was a weapon, a pistol pointed and shot- nothing else. But she knew a part of her would miss the familiarity of fighting and sparring. That was something she had grown too accustomed to.

 

She shook her head from the thoughts as Peggy turned to Abraham.

 

“And Colonel Phillips has spoken with American Senator Brandt, who has agreed to fund your project, Project: Rebirth. Once you finish developing the serum Colonel Phillips requests you return to America with him.” She said.

 

Abraham tilted his head back and forth, as if weighing his options before he nodded with a soft smile.

 

“That would be good.” He said.

 

Peggy smiled and stood up, holding her hand out towards Abraham.

 

“This is where we part, Doctor. Hopefully we see each other again.” She smiled and Abraham stood to his feet, shaking her hand with a nod.

 

Lucy stood as well, grabbing Peggy’s hat. Abraham turned to her and she blinked in surprise as he hugged her gently. She tilted her head as he pulled away and his eyes twinkled sadly.

 

“Thank you for everything.” She whispered.

 

Abraham put his hands in his pockets, nodding.

 

“Of course.” He said.

 

The three stood in silence for a second, before Peggy turned and walked towards the door. Lucy shot Abraham one last look as she followed her out of the room. She shut the door and allowed Peggy to lead her down the hall. They walked for a few minutes at most, before exiting the barrack and entering a large open garage, the sun beaming brightly inside. 

 

She slowed in her footsteps, taking a moment to feel the warmth of the sun. She looked back to see Peggy walking towards a car. She caught up to her quickly and watched as Peggy entered the driver's seat. Lucy glanced back and forth hesitantly, having no order to stay or enter. She thought as logically as possible and placed Peggy’s hat atop of her head, opening the passenger’s door. She sat inside and hesitantly glanced at Peggy to see her reaction.

 

Peggy was smiling proudly, as if moving without an order was something to be happy with.

 

Lucy inwardly frowned at her anxiety, knowing full well she could not simply snap her fingers and hope her brain wouldn’t be influenced by thoughts that weren’t hers. She had a feeling Peggy knew she struggled with having choices.

 

Peggy’s expression relaxed as she pushed her feet on the accelerator and drove out of the garage. 

 

Lucy shifted her gaze to the window and observed the buildings that towered over her. At a different time she’d wanted to go to England- it seemed like a place out of movies- and it was just as beautiful as she’d thought. 

 

Silence settled comfortably between the pair and Lucy’s eyes never strayed from the window. She leaned her head against her hand as she slowly closed her eyes and activated her abilities. She smiled softly when she opened her eyes again, warm with the feeling of familiarity as molecules floated in the air.

 

“You know,” Peggy spoke as she turned right, “you can ask me questions.” 

 

Lucy looked back at her from beneath her hat and chewed on the inside of her mouth.

 

“Where are we going?” She asked softly.

 

Peggy kept her eyes on the road.

 

“My house in Hampstead.” She explained. “It’s where I grew up.”

 

An hour or so passed, and the drive grew quiet once again. The only sound was the soft rumble of the car, and Lucy would’ve asked more questions, but after she was reluctant and unsure of her options. She remembered a time she’d chat harmlessly with anyone and everyone. 

 

“I didn’t tell Colonel Phillips about your abilities.” Peggy said, glancing at her for a split second before returning her gaze to the road.

 

Lucy snapped her head up sharply.

 

“If I did he would’ve reported to the American government. You would be put under government custody and further experimented on.” She continued as they reached a red light.

 

She turned to Lucy with a firm look, vacant of regret.

 

“I only told him you exceeded in combat and espionage. It was the only plausible explanation.” She shook her head. “You’ll have to be careful and not use your abilities where anyone can see.”

 

“Con-“ Lucy cut herself off and resorted to nodding slowly in understanding, unclenching and clenching her hands into fists. 

 

Peggy didn’t mention her slip-up and continued down the road. She turned into a field, where, at the end of the driveway, sat a modest red brick house with a small garage to the side.

 

“The weather’s rather nice isn’t it?” Peggy said, glancing out the window.

 

She was relieved by the abrupt change in topic and Lucy’s lips twitched slightly at her actions as she shifted her gaze to the sky.

 

It was the bluest thing she’d ever seen- it’d been so long since she’d taken a moment to admire the world around her- and she turned to Peggy with a nod.

 

“It’s beautiful.” She whispered.

 

The area felt rural, but the neighborhood was definitely suburban. It seemed well-off but not overly wealthy- middle class- and Peggy parked the car.

 

“It’s not anything fancy. My family wasn’t very fond of huge houses, so I’m quite fond of smaller houses.” Peggy said as she stepped out of the car and waved her hands at the building.

 

Lucy vaguely thought of the huge HYDRA base she was kept in.

 

“Me too.” She decided as Peggy grabbed a ring of keys from her pocket.

 

She unlocked the door and beckoned Lucy inside.

 

Lucy observed the interior and immediately noticed the lack of security. The living room was large, fitting a few long leather couches with a coffee table and a wide box TV at the farthest wall. She could see the kitchen through an open door frame and another hall leading to another room- possible a bathroom.

 

“We’ll be staying here but if you ever want to explore other parts of the city, just give me a heads up and I’ll be able to arrange something for you.” 

 

Peggy set her keys down on the coffee table and took her coat off, draping it over the couch. Lucy pulled Peggy’s hate off and placed it on the couch as she also put her coat besides Peggy’s. 

 

“Let me show you the spare room.” Peggy said softly as she stepped upstairs.

 

Lucy followed without question, eyes curiously flickering back and forth. Peggy entered a small bedroom with a closet to the left and a desk to the right. The bed was perfectly made and Lucy could remember a time she’d dreamed for such a bed.

 

“I hope it’s alright.” Peggy said with a sheepish look.

 

Lucy nodded silently, feeling guilt settle in her stomach when she knew damn well she wasn’t going to step anywhere near the bed- it felt too much like drowning.

 

Peggy clasped her hands together and cleared her throat.

 

“Right, well, if you need anything, I’ll be downstairs making dinner.” She said.

 

Peggy turned to leave and Lucy’s hand whipped out, gripping her arm tightly. Peggy stopped and Lucy breathed deeply, anxiously. She waited for the other boot to drop, for Peggy to smack her harshly across the face for being disobedient. Now that they were alone there was no need for her to keep up with her facade.

 

But there was nothing- no hit, no angry breath, no laugh- and she slowly confirmed Peggy was not manipulating her.

 

She stared up at her with empty eyes.

 

“Why are you helping me?” She asked tonelessly.

 

Peggy frowned.

 

“Because I want to.” She said rather bluntly.

 

Lucy’s grip on her arm loosened but she didn’t pull away.

 

“Why?” She demanded and Peggy grabbed her hand carefully, prying her fingers off her arm.

 

“Because I watched you forget what it means to be human, and I want you to remember what it feels like to be treated like me- like a person.” She said firmly. 

 

Lucy dropped her arm to her side, eyebrows furrowing, shoulders dropping.

 

“You’ll have to wake me up in the morning. You’ll have to order me to eat. You’ll have to order me to move, to sleep, to feel- to- to do anything and everything!” Lucy threw her hands up with exasperation.

 

Peggy watched with expert calmness. 

 

“And even if you manage to break my dependent manners- then what? What am I going to do with myself when this is what I know- when this is-“

 

Her eyes flickered back and forth unsurely as she wrapped her arms around herself, hunching over slightly as panic seized her body. A part of her wished Dr. Schaffer was here to calm her down because he was always good at keeping her heartbeat low and steady and-

 

“That’s okay, Lucy.” Peggy said as she placed her hands on Lucy’s arms.

 

Lucy reluctantly lifted her head and Peggy looked her dead in the eye, determined.

 

“We’ll change this together, one step at a time.”

Chapter 12: Eleven

"Sometimes the greatest adventure is simply a conversation.”

Wisconsin, America

September, 1942

LUCY’S EYES FLICKERED ACROSS the army base from the window of her room, observing the familiar sight of soldiers marching back and forth. Her eyes settled on a line of recruits, awaiting for instructions. Her heart thrummed calmly as she adjusted her uniform, which was completely black and equivalent to a man’s uniform. Joining the SSR came with a baggage of sexism, and Lucy merely overlooked the inequality between men and women. She was here to train and improve her physical abilities- she was out of practice, and trusted no one to keep her safe from HYDRA- that was all.

 

A sigh escaped her lips as she pulled a pill bottle from beneath her mattress, pulling the cap open. It had been over a year since she’d adjusted to pills, instead of IV drips- thanks to Abraham- but having to take medicine that could potentially kill someone was dangerous and necessary to hide. She popped two dry pills in her mouth before placing the bottle back underneath her mattress. She swallowed the pills as she heard the door open. She instinctively held her hands out, palm-open, then clasped them together as footsteps drew closer. 

 

She turned with a small smile on her lips. 

 

Peggy was dressed in her uniform, skirt hovering at her knees. She smiled and pointed behind her. 

 

“The new recruits are waiting for both of us, Lu.” She said and Lucy turned her head back towards the window.

 

She gazed at the men, memorizing their status, height, weight and threat levels. She blinked and spun on her heel, walking past Peggy and out the door. Peggy followed besides her and they exited the building, walking towards another soldier holding several clipboards in his hands. Lucy shoved her hands in her pockets lazily as they approached the new recruits.

 

“Recruits, attention!” Peggy ordered as she stepped in front of them.

 

They instantly straightened and Lucy ignored the urge to do the same. She stood besides Peggy as the soldier who followed passed clipboards to each of the new recruits. A few men stared at her but the feeling was familiar, so she paid them no attention. 

 

“Gentlemen, I’m Agent Carter, and this is Agent Baker.” She said, eyes flickering between the men.

 

Lucy cleared her throat.

 

“We supervise all operations for this division.” She continued, her German accent seeping through her words ever so softly.

 

One of the recruits raised his eyebrow and Lucy paused as he spoke.

 

“What’s with the accent? I thought I was joining the U.S. army.” He snickered. “Why’s a Nazi here?”

 

Lucy turned her head to look at Peggy with an incredulous look and she sent her a shrug. She turned back to the man and stepped right in front of him. She could feel most of the recruits watch her with distaste as she tilted her head.

 

“What’s your name?” She questioned and he sneered.

 

The men around him shifted as they tried to hide their amused looks.

 

“Allen, Robert.” He said.

 

Lucy took a step back, and Peggy walked to the side, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“Spar with me, Mr. Allen.” She said simply and the man scoffed.

 

He walked forwards confidently and Lucy stretched her arms for a moment. The soldiers snickered and Lucy looked him up and down before straightening. She waited and Robert looked back at the recruits, as if he couldn’t believe what she was doing. 

 

With a second of hesitation he threw a punch at her face. She ducked under the punch and jumped swiftly onto his back, hooking her leg around his thigh and slamming him into the ground with her momentum. She rolled out from beneath him and landed on all fours, crouched low as Robert groaned in pain. 

 

Her body tensed and she didn’t attack him a second time. She stood to her feet and brushed the dirt off her pants. Roberts pulled himself to his feet and Lucy could see the anger prominent in his face. 

 

“Do not call me a Nazi.” She said tonelessly.

 

She turned to Peggy and felt him rush forwards to hit her again. She crouched and he stumbled forwards as she grabbed his arm and flipped onto his back. Her eyes flickered to one of the recruits who’d stepped forwards with a look of concern- bright ocean eyes. He hit the ground and Lucy pulled his arm back further. He flailed beneath her and she didn’t dislocate his shoulder as she stood to her feet.

 

“That gentlemen, is what happens when you underestimate a woman.” Peggy said as Roberts pushed himself onto his feet.

 

Lucy shoved her hands in her pockets again, unsurprised by the looks of awe she was receiving. She caught the gaze of the recruit who’d stepped forwards, his lips twisted in a wistful smile, eyes afar. He glanced at her and the smile faltered slightly as he looked forwards again.

 

“Agent Baker!”

 

Lucy turned her head to see Colonel Phillips and drill Sergeant Williams walk towards them. She straightened, along with the other recruits as she nodded at them.

 

“I see your breaking in the new recruits.” He said, gesturing towards Robert who stepped back in line. 

 

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest as Colonel Phillips examined each recruit. He started an introductory speech and Lucy waited patiently until he finished. When he did, he gestured towards Sergeant Williams, who stepped forwards as he walked away. 

 

“Gentlemen, your training starts now.” He barked fiercely. “You will be running a course along the borders of the base. Agent Baker will be running alongside you, so you’ll be expected to keep up with her.”

 

Quiet snickers erupted between the men and Lucy almost smiled. She stepped to the front of the group besides Sergeant Williams as they separated into two separate ranks. She waited for Sergeant Williams who waved his hand forwards with a shout. 

 

She started out in a slow jog, the men behind her passing her one by one. She was as comfortable as she could be as the recruit besides her forced a smile on his lips. She glanced at him and nodded in silent greeting. She was glad he didn’t talk as they ran, conserving energy. 

 

When the men started to slow down, Lucy picked up the pace, ignoring the slight burn in her legs. The recruit besides her pursed his lips as he struggled to keep up with her- but he managed to anyway, and she tried not to look impressed. She breathed through her nose at an even pace as she ran in front of the men. Blue-eyes sprinted besides her with determination.

 

They ran in front of Sergeant Williams, and Lucy wondered where this man’s endurance came from. The end of the first lap came into view and she started running as fast as humanly possible. Blue-eyes managed to finish the lap a few feet behind her, walking off the adrenaline as he heaved for air. He sat in the dirt and Lucy tilted her head as sweat dripped down her forehead. 

 

She held her hand towards him, waving him to stand. He grasped her hand gratefully and pulled himself to his feet.

 

“Where’d you learn how to run like that, Blue-eyes?” She questioned.

 

He quirked an eyebrow and breathed deeply as he caught his breath.

 

“I got alotta practice runnin’ from drunks in alleyways, Agent Baker.” He said and Lucy raised a curious eyebrow.

 

“The hell are you doing in alleyways?” She asked.

 

He smiled and a small chuckle left his lips.

 

“Savin’ my best friend from gettin’ his ass kicked.” He replied as the other men finally caught up to them.

 

Lucy turned to Sergeant Williams who regarded Blue-eyes with a look of surprise. Blue-eyes stepped back in line and Lucy stood beside Sergeant Williams as the soldier’s looked at her with disbelief.

 

The men marched towards the climbing ropes and Lucy faltered as she climbed upwards. She had the urge to use her abilities but stopped herself from doing so. Her muscles burned as she climbed up and over the ropes as fast as possible. She was admittedly slower than she was whilst running, and several soldier’s passed her, including Blue-eyes who raised a challenging eyebrow. 

 

She huffed and dropped to the ground, determined to make this a competition.

 

The next training course was messier than it was physically exhausting- they had to army crawl in the dirt with a rifle. Lucy pushed herself forwards, avoiding the barbed wires above her head. She glanced to the side and playfully smirked at Blue-eyes as she raced him towards the end. He pursed his lips with focus and she continued forwards. She crossed the finish line and glanced at Blue-eyes, who stood as she did. She rolled her eyes at him and he shot her a small grin. 

 

She dropped the rifle to her side as she wiped the dirt off her pants and elbows. She waited for the rest of the men to stand to their feet, before Sergeant William’s directed them to the target practice course. 

 

They lined up in front of the targets, standing in ranks of four. Lucy’s grip on her rifle tightened and she handed the weapon to Sergeant Williams. She crossed her arms over her chest as she stood besides the soldier’s, watching as they pointed their guns and aimed to fire. They finished a round and Lucy concluded that most of them had no idea how to use a gun correctly. 

 

Lucy stepped towards Robert as he failed to shoot his target, his bullet hitting the wall behind it instead. He looked at her with a glare as she waved her hand towards his stance.

 

“Your left leg shouldn’t be so forward.” She advised and he scoffed.

 

She raised an eyebrow as he seemed to think. He turned to her and held the gun towards her, handle first.

 

“If you’re so good with a gun, why don’t you show us?” He said snarkily.

 

Lucy knew what she could mentally and mentally could not tolerate. Shooting targets were at the top of her “losing mental stability” list, and the logical part of her knew she shouldn’t risk holding a gun and pointing it towards the targets. But her heart lurched with cooled anger and she was either going to shoot Robert, or show him wrong. She kept her arms crossed for a moment, feeling the gaze of each recruit. 

 

Sergeant Williams seemed to be expecting her to take it and Lucy noticed Peggy in her peripheral vision, walking towards or past them with several other agents. She stared at the gun before grabbing the handle of it.

 

Robert grinned like a shark and Lucy pointed at the target. She shot the target once in the head, and two in the chest. Her eyes narrowed at the target and she swallowed thickly as a whisper of Dr. Schaffer’s voice travelled through her ears.

 

She straightened, keeping her head horizontal to the ground. She dropped any expression, staring emptily as she shot the target again in the head, then the chest, until the barrel was empty. The recruits stared as only three holes remained in the target, all perfectly placed.

 

Lucy holstered the gun- really shoving it in her pocket- as she stepped forwards robotically. All gunfire stopped as she stepped behind the targets and picked up the bullets. She counted seven and turned back, walking towards the soldier’s who now regarded her as if she was crazy.

 

She held the bullets tightly in her hand, so tight her knuckles were turning white.

 

“Lucy!” 

 

She heard an urgent voice call, murky in her head.

 

She turned and saw a blurry figure with curled brown hair rushing towards her. She itched to grab her gun but paused when the figure seemed familiar. The woman neared her before turning to the other men.

 

“Continue practicing.” Sergeant Williams ordered and they turned back to their targets, bullets ringing in the air.

 

The woman gently grabbed Lucy’s arm, tugging her backwards. They stood to the side and Lucy blinked when the woman gently tapped her arms- the woman- Peggy.

 

A flurry of blurred images rushed through her head and she vividly remembered grabbing the gun from Robert and conveniently not shooting him in the leg. She lowered her gaze and dropped the bullets in her hand. Peggy let the bullets fall, grabbing the gun in Lucy’s pocket and putting it in her own.

 

“Do you need to take a break?” She asked softly.

 

Lucy winced and shook her head.

 

“Nein, sir- ma’am- no, Peggy.” She stumbled over her words.

 

Peggy bit the inside of her lip, clearly unconvinced.

 

“Lucy. . .” She trailed off uncertainly.

 

Lucy breathed deeply and shook her head as she clasped her hands together. She stopped a tremor from travelling through her arms.

 

“I’m okay. I haven’t had an episode in awhile so it caught me off guard.” She pressed. “I’m fine.”

 

Peggy inspected her for a moment before waving her hand towards the recruits.

 

“Sergeant Williams and I were supposed to switch anyway.” She said and Lucy blinked.

 

That must’ve been the reason why she was walking over anyway. Peggy patted her arm once more before walking towards the men. They marched into two rows and followed her towards an open area for core training.

 

Lucy wiped the sweat off her brow as she reminded herself she hadn’t seen Dr. Schaffer in two years and he wouldn’t randomly appear in a heavily armed American army base. He probably couldn’t even fly from Germany to America. She rubbed her temples and walked back towards the soldier’s. She pursed her lips, brows furrowing with focus as she dropped to the ground and joined the recruits in push-ups.

 

She counted in her head and tried not to laugh as Peggy insulted the pace of the recruits.

 

“My grandma has more life in her, god bless her soul!” She shouted.

 

Lucy continued doing push-ups until they stepped into jumping jacks. She felt a familiar ache travel through her body but she promptly ignored it- she’d felt worse.

 

When Peggy finally announced they were finished, most- if not all- of the men were huffing and panting. Lucy breathed evenly through her nose and she put her hands on her hips as she watched the men head towards the showers. She shut her eyes for a moment, until she felt someone approach from behind. She spun on her feet, tense, until she realized it was merely Blue-eyes.

 

“Agent Baker, Robert is a fine crumb and a real jackass.” He said and Lucy’s eyebrow raised with amusement.

 

“Don’t listen to a thing he says.” He continued.

 

Lucy tilted her head slightly, pressing her lips into a thin line. His words hadn’t really bothered her, it was just nice to have the freedom and ability to react. She stared at him for a moment and he blinked a few times before she spoke.

 

“What’s your name, Blue-eyes?” She asked.

 

The soldier grinned, the left side of his lip lifting before the right.

 

“James Buchanan Barnes, ma’am.” He said.

 

Lucy quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Well, I’m not a ma’am, and I’m definitely not a baker.” She joked and Blue-eyes- James- chuckled lightheartedly.

 

She grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly.

 

“Lucy. Call me Lucy.”

Chapter 13: Twelve

"The enemy is fighting you not because you are weak. They’re fighting you because you’re strong.”

Wisconsin, America

October, 1942

HER HEART HAMMERED IN her chest as she gripped at the shackles around her hands. Her eyes flickered back and forth anxiously as she shifted on her knees, legs aching as she tried to move. Her blood failed to circulate to her feet and an anxious whimper escaped her lips. Metal contained her from all four sides and she could barely move without her back pressing against the walls. Water was up to her nose and she had to tilt her head back in order to breathe. 

 

Her chest heaved and her breaths were short. She could feel her throat closing and the feeling had not changed since the moment she’d been put in the box. She hadn’t known how much time had passed but every limb attached to her body had started aching ages ago. 

 

A shudder travelled through her body when the water started to drain beneath her. Goosebumps littered her skin and she shivered as the water disappeared completely. The door didn’t open and she was left drip drying in the dark. 

 

“Bitte. Bitte. Please.” She whispered against the walls, lips trembling as she dared to speak.

 

There was no response- no footstep she could catch- and her heart threatened to burst from her chest. She tugged against the restraints and tears trickled down her face as she leaned her forehead against the metal. Her whispered pleads fell on death years and she sat there for another hour before the door opened.

 

Lucy adjusted to the light as she blinked harshly. She felt calloused hands pull her out of the box and the shackles around her hands disappeared. She blearily recognized the scent of tobacco as smoke circled her nose. She barely cringed at the smell as she leaned into the warmth his body offered. She gripped desperately onto his lab coat as he drew in a long breath of smoke, blowing it out in a soft exhale. 

 

“Why did you leave, Verfall?” He breathed calmly and Lucy froze, her body shaking violently.

 

He was silent for a moment and guilt climbed the back of her throat as she tried to find something to say.

 

“Why did you leave?” He repeated, his voice suddenly as cold as stone.

 

Lucy gripped onto him tightly and his face contorted with anger as he grabbed her wrists and pulled them harshly to her sides. 

 

“Tut mir leid. I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’m sorry-“ she whimpered anxiously and she felt his hands grab her shoulders.

 

Lucy’s eyes snapped open and she was instantly blinded by sunlight. She tiredly recognized Peggy’s curls, which were curled and pinned neatly. She heard a voice that sounded awfully like hers and she realized her lips were moving in a mantra of apologies, switching between every language she knew. She had no control over her lips as Peggy gripped her shoulders tightly, shaking her in bed.

 

“-Lucy! Wake up!” She whisper- shouted.

 

Lucy grasped onto Peggy’s sleeve and the younger woman let out a small gasp as they tumbled to the ground. Lucy held the palm of her hand above Peggy’s head. She breathed heavily the molecular structure of Peggy’s skin vividly burned into her mind. 

 

“Good morning.” Peggy said softly.

 

Lucy’s hand faltered and she breathed deeply, pausing from tearing her best-friend’s skin apart. She hesitantly pulled away from her and stood to her feet. She stumbled backwards onto her bed, hitting the mattress with a disgraceful thud.

 

Peggy pulled herself onto her feet and Lucy scrambled off the bed, rushing to the corner of the room. She pulled her knees to her chest as she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall.

 

“Hey.” She heard Peggy whisper softly.

 

Lucy felt her shuffle closer and she stiffened. Peggy stopped in her footsteps and Lucy pried her eyes open. For a moment she was afraid Dr. Schaffer would appear from behind her. She waited but Peggy was all she saw.

 

“How bad is it?” She asked.

 

Lucy swallowed thickly and shook her head, breathing deeply. Peggy didn’t ask the question again, instead crouching patiently a few feet across from her. 

 

After a moment Lucy snapped her head to the side, shaking her head. She rubbed her eyes and pushed herself to her feet. She leaned against the wall, taking a careful step forwards.

 

“It’s nothing. Just- a bad dream.” She whispered with a shake of her head.

 

Peggy pursed her lips and Lucy gave her a look of reassurance. She didn’t press on the issue, turning on her heel. 

 

“You should. . .get ready for the day.” She said.

 

Lucy’s eyebrows furrowed as she examined Peggy’s outfit. She was in her uniform and ready for the day. Lucy blinked, massaging her temples. A sigh left her lips and she wrung her wrists, fiddling with old scars.

 

“Right.” She nodded.

 

Peggy smiled and Lucy averted her gaze to the ground as she pulled her blanket over her mattress. She grabbed her tactical gear and changed quickly, wiping cold sweat from her forehead. She glanced at Peggy who finished pinning a few curls on the back of her head.

 

Lucy pushed her feet into her combat boots and followed Peggy out the door.

 

She dragged her feet across the dirt as Peggy walked forwards, towards Sergeant Williams who was warming up the soldiers. Lucy turned her abilities off as she stood in front of the men.

 

Sergeant Williams turned to her with a small smile.

 

“Oh, just the Agent I was looking for.” He said and Lucy raised an eyebrow curiously.

 

He waved his hand towards Blue-eyes- James- and Lucy blinked.

 

“Do you mind if you evaluate both Barnes’s hand-to-hand combat and his marksmanship skills?” He said in a suggestive tone.

 

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows and she crossed her arms over her chest as she turned to face Sergeant Williams. Her lips tilted into a frown and she waved one hand towards James, who glanced at her when he caught sight of the motion.

 

“Are you thinking of recommending him as a Sergeant?” She asked.

 

Sergeant Williams opened his mouth before closing it. He chewed the inside of his lip before he shook his head with an uncertain shrug. She shoved her hands into her pockets as her frown deepened.

 

“Then there's no reason for me to evaluate him.” She said shortly.

 

She turned to join the soldier’s in line when Sergeant Williams quickly grabbed a hold of her arm. She stiffened and wrenched her arm out of his grip, jaw clenching. Sergeant Williams looked apologetic and Lucy slowly relaxed as he looked at the soldier’s in line.

 

“I- will.” He sighed. “Look, I want to give him a shot. He’s athletic, tall and a good soldier. He’s got potential but I can’t recommend him as a Sergeant unless he has two recommendations.”

 

Lucy turned back to look at James who was doing jumping jacks. Her first encounter with him had been intriguing, to say the least, and she knew Sergeant Williams wasn’t wrong about his physical strength. She hummed, stretching one arm with the other.

 

“You want me to recommend him?” She questioned.

 

Sergeant Williams nodded with a sheepish look.

 

“I’m sure Colonel Phillips will listen to you more than me.” He said.

 

Lucy attempted to resist the urge of rolling her eyes- keyword attempted.

 

“You want me to speak directly to the colonel?” She asked, wondering if he was favoring James.

 

“He reminds me of myself, Agent Baker.” Sergeant Williams replied.

 

She ran her tongue along the top row of her teeth before she sighed and faced the soldiers.

 

“Gentlemen.” She said curtly and they stopped mid-way of their jumping jacks, straightening in response.

 

Her eyes swept over them as they breathed heavily.

 

“Mr. Barnes if you could please follow me.” She said.

 

James stepped forwards, looking genuinely confused with a slight tile of his head as Lucy turned on her heel, beckoning him to follow. Sergeant Williams shot her a thankful look as he and Agent Carter turned back to the men.

 

They walked towards another open area until Lucy stopped. She stood to face James who watched her tensely, unsure if he was in trouble. 

 

“James,” she started, “Sergeant Williams wants me to evaluate your combat skills, as well as your marksmanship.”

 

She paused as James nodded in understanding.

 

She walked towards several rifles leant against the side of the target range. She grabbed the rifle and placed it a few feet away from James. She stepped back further and waved her hand towards the rifle.

 

“Your goal is to shoot that target-“ she pointed behind her at the faux targets “-while sparring me. Sound good?”

 

James managed not to gawk as he looked between her, the gun, and the fake target. His eyes grew determined as he lifted his head to look at her with genuine respect. She was slightly surprised by the look and found her lips tilting into a small smile.

 

He cleared his throat as he shifted on his feet.

 

“Ready when you are, ma’am.” He said with a small smirk and a salute that faintly covered the nervous clench of his jaw.

 

Lucy quirked an amused eyebrow as she widened her stance. She shifted to the left and James moved to the right, slowly, calculatingly. She could see his eyes flicker over her vulnerable points and she lowered herself before lunging for the gun. 

 

She kicked the rifle to the side and James grunted as she grabbed his shoulder and punched him across the face. Only, James ducked under her hand, stumbled backwards, then teetered forwards into her.

 

She blinked in surprise as he used his momentum to twist on his heel and slam a punch into her face. The fist smacked into her cheek and she stumbled back as James looked at her with wide eyes of sudden concern.

 

She skidded back and worked her jaw as James stood frozen in front of her. 

 

“Are you alright?” He asked, holding a hand towards her.

 

Lucy gritted her teeth and she grabbed his hand, before pulling him into the ground. He landed with an oof and Lucy slammed her knee into his chest. He rolled out from beneath her, groaning when her knee slammed against his shoulder. He jumped back several feet and she shook her head.

 

“I’m your enemy, James.” She said. “Would you rather I Deutsch sprechen, amerikanischer Köter?”

 

Her tone was mocking and James’s eyes widened as she lunged at him. He ducked beneath her and she hooked her foot around his ankle, effectively tripping him. She spun as he landed on his hands and twisted in the air, landing on his feet once again.

 

He held his hands in front of his face, fists closed and shoulders tense- like a boxer- Lucy realized. She wondered if he was indeed a boxer before joining the army as she kicked him in the side. He dropped one hand to grab her foot and the other grabbed her shoulder. He shoved her leg and she stumbled backwards. His hand gripping her shoulder gave her an extra push and she hit the ground.

 

He rushed towards the rifle and Lucy rolled onto her stomach, grabbing the heel of his combat boot. He tripped and face-planted the ground as Lucy jumped to her feet. She moved to put him in a headlock when he flipped over and kicked her hard in the stomach. He looked apologetic when she grunted, but didn’t pause to ask if she was alright.

 

An improvement.

 

She jumped onto his back as his hand gripped the rifle. She swung one thigh around his leg and slammed him to the ground disgracefully. He grunted as he hit the ground and Lucy jumped on all fours, one leg jutted out, the other bent low beneath her. She breathed evenly as James sat upright with the rifle in his hands.

 

She wrapped her arm around his neck and pushed him into a chokehold that was enough to have him gasping for air. Before he could tap out three shots rang in the air and Lucy stopped in surprise, her grip relaxing.

 

She slowly let go of James who rolled off of her and coughed. The rifle in his hands hit the ground and she stared at the target with interest.

 

Three clean bullet holes pierced the metal at it’s chest and head, with surprising accuracy.

 

She turned to James as he struggled to his feet, panting heavily.

 

He glanced up at her and she calmly grabbed his fallen rifle, returning it back to its original place.

 

“You’re not gon’ attack me again, are ya, ma’am?” He asked with a Brooklyn drawl, wiping sweat off his brow.

 

Lucy raised an eyebrow before a small chuckle escaped her lips. She placed her hands on her hips.

 

“If you keep calling me ma’am, I will.” She huffed.

 

He smirked with an amused twinkly in his eyes. She inspected him for a moment, noticing the slight wince in his step as he walked towards her. She felt a twinge of guilt twist in her gut and she could faintly hear Dr. Schaffer’s disappointed voice- why did you leave?- and she snapped her head to the side.

 

She massaged her temples and cleared her throat.

 

“I meant to go easy on you, James.” She said with a serious tone as he stood besides her. “I’m sorry.”

 

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting her apology.

 

Lucy could almost feel the hot breath behind her ear, angry, upset- disappointed. She bit harshly onto the inside of her cheek, sliding her tongue across the metallic blood coating the inside of her mouth. 

 

She swallowed thickly, and inconspicuously swatted the hallucinated heavy breath from her ear by pulling a strand of hair behind it.

 

“Would you like to have a nurse take a look at your shoulder?” She asked with soft concern.

 

James chuckled softly and she paused, looking up at him with confusion. He rolled his shoulders back as if to show he was fine. Lucy tilted her head as he gently patted her shoulder.

 

“I’m fine. Besides, what happened to you bein’ my enemy, Lu?” He asked.

 

Lucy shook her head with a small smile on her lips. 

 

“Where’d the nickname come from?” She answered and he winked with a cheeky grin.

 

He pulled his hair to one side and Lucy watched as he shrugged.

 

“Habit.” He said.

 

She examined him for a moment before walking towards the barracks. She felt James stare at her and she looked back at him, waiting for him to follow. He rushed forwards and fell into stride besides her. He managed not to stumble over his feet as she walked quickly and efficiently.

 

Peggy shot her a curious gaze and Lucy smiled softly before turning back towards the barracks. They walked in silence as they passed other soldier’s and she felt James gaze at her.

 

“You know I-“ 

 

Lucy turned her head to look at him and James stammered slightly.

 

“-uh Bucky.” He blurted.

 

She eyed him curiously and he cleared his throat.

 

“People call me Bucky.” He explained. “Comes from the Buchanan.”

 

Lucy’s lips formed into an ‘o’ and she nodded before turning down the hall. She remained silent and was thankful James didn’t make conversation- she wouldn’t know if she could handle it without old programming slipping from her lips. She finally made it to the Colonel Phillips’s office and opened the door without bothering to knock.

 

He looked up from a file of papers in his hands, which he quickly shut. He sent her a disapproved frown as he pushed the folder back into his cabinet. Lucy caught the word Rebirth as he slipped it away.

 

Colonel Phillips noticed James- Bucky? A nickname? When had she been comfortable enough to give someone a nickname?- who stood to attention.

 

“Colonel Phillips,” she started, pointing a hand at James- she found herself unsure of calling him Bucky, “this is James Barnes, assigned to the 107th Regiment.”

 

Colonel Phillips stood and turned to him as James held a hand out.

 

“Sir.” James greeted as Colonel Phillips shook his hand firmly.

 

Colonel Phillips returned to his seat and Lucy sat across from his desk, beckoning James to do the same. He did so, seemingly out of place.

 

“As you know, my best qualities are in combat and firearms.” She said factually, with zero pride in her voice.

 

Colonel Phillips nodded with a raised eyebrow, slightly bored.

 

“Barnes was able to shoot three accurate shots at a target while in a chokehold, which I put him in.” She continued. “I want you to move him up the ranks as Sergeant.”

 

James snapped his head to the side to give her a wide-eyed stare and she promptly ignored his reaction. His mouth was agape in shock and surprise, vaguely reminiscent of a fish. Her eyes remained on Colonel Phillips as he blinked, looking between the pair.

 

“You can’t expect me to-“ he started and she stared, “-Lucy. That decision isn’t my own. You’re supposed to speak to the Company Commander, who specially recommends him at least twice to the Lieutenant.”

 

Lucy clasped her hands together and narrowed her eyes.

 

“I was trained to be perfect, colonel.” She said shortly. “If Barnes can last more than thirty seconds fighting me, it’s only plausible that he exceeds in hand-to-hand combat- his wits and skills are unparalleled amongst the men here.”

 

Colonel Phillips frowned.

 

“And I take it you’ve sparred others?” He asked.

 

She tilted her head.

 

She had, in fact, sparred more than one soldier on separate occasions- all managing to be weaker and dumber than every HYDRA agent she ever trained with. She almost had the feeling the U.S. military would be hopeless against HYDRA’s formidable strength, but, she had the hope there were more men like Barnes; skilled.

 

“Enough. But none were able to last as long as Barnes. He refused to tap out until he did as I asked. He’s a good soldier, and he follows orders. I believe he deserves to give them too.” She said.

 

Colonel Phillips leaned back into his chair.

 

“And he qualifies, I hope?” He asked.

 

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, shrugging slightly.

 

“I’m sure Sergeant Williams made sure of it before I evaluated him.” She said.

 

He examined her for a moment and she waited as James shifted awkwardly in his seat.

 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Colonel Phillips finally said.

 

Lucy stared at him before standing with a nod. James looked back and forth before standing as well. Colonel Phillips held his hand towards him, and James shook it in farewell, a nervous glimmer in his eyes. 

 

“Good to meet you, son.” Colonel Phillips said curtly.

 

Lucy grabbed the door to the office, swinging it open.

 

“Likewise, sir.” He replied smoothly.

 

James stepped out of the office and Lucy moved to close the door. She paused for a moment, sticking her head back into the room.

 

“He was also a boxer, Colonel. I suspect before the war even started.” She said before shutting the door, leaving Colonel Phillips intrigued and curious.

 

Lucy strode down the hall and James had to catch up to her pace. They exited the barracks and she flinched when James grasped her arm. She fought the urge to rip her arm from his hand, clenching her jaw. His eyes widened at her reaction and he quickly pulled his hand away. 

 

He opened his mouth to apologize and Lucy plastered a smile on her face.

 

“What is it?” She asked quietly, jumping to whatever he wanted to ask her in the first place. 

 

He closed his mouth and returned his arms stiffly to his sides.

 

“I just. . .wanted to know how you knew I was a boxer.” He cleared his throat halfway through the sentence.

 

Lucy relaxed her jaw and she dropped her arms to her sides. 

 

“The way you held yourself while we fought.” She said. “You relied on your fists more than your legs. Brute strength over flexibility.”

 

James’s lips formed into an ‘o’ and Lucy waved her hand towards the rest of the soldier’s training. 

 

“You should get back to them.” She said and James nodded.

 

“Right.” He muttered.

 

She watched as he shuffled on his feet slightly, before looking up at her.

 

“Are you. . .alright?” He asked and Lucy stiffened.

 

He hurriedly spoke.

 

“I know it ain’t my bui’ness, but I uh- if there's anythin’ I can do to help-“ he scrambled to find the right words and Lucy’s shoulder slumped slightly.

 

She gazed into his eyes- bluer than the ocean- and a part of her wanted to trust him. She knew he was capable of injuring, and she’d associated him with threats, more than friends. Dr. Zola had been friendly- she abruptly snapped her head to the side and James teetered back and forth from his ankles to his toes with a nervous look of worry.

 

She ran a hand through her hair and bit the inside of her lip.

 

“I had trouble sleeping, James.” She said softly. “It’s nothing.”

 

James didn’t look like he believed her but he merely shot her a reassuring smile. She felt her lips tilt upwards and she let out a small chuckle, gently pushing him towards his line of men.

 

“Now go off, before I report your ass.” She said.

 

James winked and saluted her before marching towards the soldiers.

 

Her smile faltered as she turned around and breathed deeply.

 

Why did you leave?

Chapter 14: Thirteen

"Sometimes monsters can be heroes.”

Wisconsin, America

November, 1942

THE TARGETS WERE ALWAYS nameless. Giving them a name only humanized them, and that was a problem- not only for Lucy, but for anyone who wandered into the army. If she ever hypothetically stared at a piece of grilled chicken and thought hard enough to wonder if a knife was used to slit its neck, or if it’s head was brutally twisted, she would falter in eating it. If the thoughts continued, and she wondered of the snap of its bones and the blood dripping from its neck- consequently its beak- she’d might as well lose her appetite. Of course, Lucy was rarely bothered by anything anymore- she’d done worse things then the average person, but then again, she was far from average. Either way, her targets were nameless and Lucy? Lucy found it easy.

 

That terrified her to the core and that was enough to lose her appetite. She promptly left her plate of chicken besides Peggy who’s eyes trailed after her as she stalked out of the barracks. She managed to rush towards her and block her path, but Lucy only asked she’d give her time. 

 

She could see the worry and genuine concern in Peggy’s eyes, so she’d merely pushed her aside and said she’d return sometime during the night.

 

So here she was, under the light of the moon at some ungodly hour, holding a plank in the middle of a clearing besides the training area. Her knuckles pressed against the dirt and her abdominal muscles burned as every minute passed. She clenched her jaw and bit harshly into her tongue as her hands curled into fists. Her nails dug into the palms of her hand and she could feel the blood trickling into the dirt. Her breathing was slow and controlled and her eyes were screwed shut as the moon vaguely lit up the forestry around her.

 

One small thought that’d evolved over a plate of food had almost managed to throw her into a complete panic attack, and for reasons known, she was genuinely pissed. It wasn’t the reoccurring nightmares, nor the anxious feeling of being too close to people that finally cracked the fragile heart in her chest- it was a damn thought over chicken.

 

A frustrated growl left her lips and she forced herself to stand, having the urge to hunch over and massage her stomach. She didn’t however, as she let the pain brew across her torso. The anger was quite easily steered to herself. 

 

Blaming anyone else was dangerous when Dr. Schaffer was the only other man she could truly blame- besides Dr. Fenhoff. She felt her stomach swell with that same feeling of aching guilt that twisted her guts in every direction possible. She had every right to hate the man and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to. Some twisted part of her thought of him as something- someone- that was important, necessary, someone that mattered more than her life. She would take a bullet for him, not that a bullet could ever touch her. 

 

“Again.”

 

Her blood ran cold and it took everything in her body not to drop to the floor and return to a plank position. Dr. Schaffer’s voice echoed in her ear with alarming clarity and she gnawed at the inside of her mouth. Her hands clenched and unclenched, until she dropped to the ground and lay with sweat dripping down her forehead. If she closed her eyes long enough she could feel the cold steel of her cell, so she kept them open, counting the speckled stars scattered across the sky. 

 

She dug her nails into the dirt and heaved a sigh as she sat up. She vaguely thought of Abraham, wondering what other U.S. base he was working in, and whether or not his Super Soldier serum was going well. She hoped he was still safe, knowing- assuming- HYDRA was chasing after what was their most valuable scientist.

 

Her train of thought was disrupted by the slightest crunch of leaves under feet- combat boots. She tilted her head to the side as the sound drew closer. She heard someone skid to a stop, a familiar voice cursing and snapping a twig in half- enough for anyone with ears to hear. She tilted her head back with a small chuckle, hearing the controlled breath of a panicked soldier.

 

She closed her eyes and waited for the soldier to either run back to the barracks, or join her on the ground.  

 

There was a moment of silence, and then the steps drew even closer. She felt the ground shift and pried her eyes open as someone sat next to her. She blinked at the familiar sight of James, whose head was tilted upwards, eyes scanning the sky.

 

“Morning.” She found herself speaking softly in greeting.

 

James glanced at her before returning his gaze to the sky. For the split second his eyes landed on her, they were slightly puffy, red- as if he had cried.

 

She slowly pushed herself to sit, wincing at the twist in her muscles. When she got comfortable, she crossed her legs, pretzel-style. 

 

“Couldn’t sleep?” She asked hesitantly.

 

James looked down, fiddling with his fingers. He breathed deeply through his nose, then shook his head.

 

“Yeah.” His voice was shaky, but his dreams were not her problem so she didn’t press the issue.

 

She rubbed her palms as the bloody nail wounds healed. She swiped her hand across the dirt in an attempt to get the blood off.

 

“I was um-“ he stopped, then blurted, “-I’m from Brooklyn. New York.”

 

Lucy’s eyes widened and she snapped her head to the side in order to face him. James almost jumped at the reaction, looking surprised by her sudden awake-ness. She realized it was much of an overreaction and she awkwardly cleared her throat.

 

“I-I am too.” She said with a small smile. “From Brooklyn, I mean. I only lived there for five years but. . .”

 

She trailed off. 

 

But what? Her mother had stayed in America and passed away, and Lucy didn’t catch a glimpse of Brooklyn for the rest of her life. Brooklyn was- well it was more or less-

 

“Home is home.” James nodded.

 

Lucy breathed softly.

 

To a certain aspect it was home, something strange but familiar.

 

“Why did you move to Germany?” He said, and her eyes flickered back and forth curiously.

 

She wondered how he knew, but quickly reassured herself that it was quite obvious she had some sort of German background- her accent was vague and usually undetectable, but slipped here and there anyway.

 

“I just assumed because of your accent- I uh- and you spoke German too- I think- that was German right? If it’s not I-“ she found James rambling and shook her head.

 

He stopped for a moment- almost breathless.

 

“My father,” she bit the inside of her lip, “he’d found work in Germany, and my grandparents needed the support- the money- so I moved to Weimar. World War I had left Germany in shambles- wrecked with poverty. My grandparents they, well, they passed away seven years ago, but they would’ve died sooner if my father hadn’t helped.”

 

He nodded in understanding and Lucy looked down at her hands. She fiddled with them as silence settled between them. She listened to the soft sound of crickets and the wind whistling between the leaves. James cleared his throat and she shifted her gaze to him as he furrowed his eyebrows. He looked confused and Lucy understood why- what was a German who lived in Germany doing at an American army base?

 

“So,” he pursed his lips, forehead creasing in thought, “you moved back to America and joined the army?”

 

Lucy knew she was treading on thin ice- they were just barely avoiding the topic of HYDRA- but she wanted to be honest, somehow, without being honest. She tapped her fingers together in a two to three pattern, a habit that’d evolved over the years.

 

“No.” She said and James quirked an eyebrow. “I. . .”

 

She breathed deeply, unsure of what to say.

 

“. . .I met Pegs- Agent Carter- in Germany. She recruited me as an SSR agent and I travelled to England. We’ve been living together ever since.” She explained hesitantly.

 

James looked surprised but he seemed to believe her. If he didn’t, Lucy wouldn’t be able to continue their conversations without feeling suspicious of him. If Schmidt wanted to send agents to America, he could, and Lucy knew as much. 

 

She swatted her paranoid thoughts away- if she knew one thing about James it was that he was a good man, and one hell of a flirt. She couldn’t envision him practicing the beliefs of HYDRA, not with those baby blue eyes.

 

She blinked when James started talking.

 

“I like to say I enlisted in the army.” James said with a small sigh. “Makes this all the more honorable.”

 

He tilted his head to the side and Lucy pressed her lips into a thin line.

 

“You were drafted.” She said.

 

James breathed softly.

 

“Yeah. Wasn’t so fun tellin’ my family.” He frowned. “An’ my best friend.”

 

Lucy hummed and drummed her fingers against her knees.

 

“The one you save from fights?” She asked.

 

James nodded, a small smile forming on his lips as he thought of his friend.

 

“His name is Steve. We grew up together, since we were kids. He’s blonde with the most stubborn blue eyes. He’s a few inches shorter than me, a bit skinny, but the bravest man I’ve ever met.” He said. “He stands up to people twice the size of him- rarely ever wins though.” 

 

Lucy tilted her head.

 

What was the point in fighting people who could drag you through the dirt? What was the point when you could walk away?

 

“Why? Doesn’t he know he won’t win?” She asked with genuine curiosity.

 

James scoffed, not in an angry way, but as if he thought of the statement before. He shook his head and clenched his jaw, the smile slipping from his face.

 

“‘Cause i’s the right thing to do.” He muttered. “Tha’s what he says every time. Even if he knows his ass could end up dead in the streets.”

 

She nodded slowly.

 

Whoever Steve was, he seemed to be a good man. Fighting people while knowing the chance of winning was slim- that was something she’d tried, and something she would have trouble trying again, if it ever came to that. She had a feeling Steve would’ve lasted much longer in HYDRA’s hands then she had, but HYDRA was a surreal thing anyway- a surreal place she would’ve thought existed only in hell. 

 

A part of her could even see Steve attempting to talk sense into them, but Lucy had seen them, demons with the skin of men. To truly admit they were in fact human and something that could be saved, just as much as she could. . .that was something she wouldn’t do. 

 

“Is that what troubles you?” She asked softly.

 

James shrugged. 

 

He wiped his eyes with one hand, the other reaching upwards to ruffle his hair.

 

“Everythin’ does.” He sighed. “I have three sisters an’ they’re young. My parents died ages ago, so there's not much of anyone to look out for ‘em- support ‘em. Steve does- he really tries- and I’m thankful for it, but it’s different- havin’ to be here, while they’re there.”

 

Lucy bit the inside of her lip.

 

“You shouldn’t be here.” She said quietly.

 

Because it was true. 

 

Lucy didn’t have siblings that relied on her- she had no one that relied on her. There were less things that could be used against her but James? Anyone else on the army base with little siblings? HYDRA would kill all of them if it took that. She vaguely thought of the Rum- Rumdo or Rumbo kid at the concentration camps. She suppressed a shudder, knowing full well Dr. Schaffer would’ve shot the boy if she hadn’t complied.

 

“Well, I could say that for a lot of us.” James said, waving his hand back towards the barracks. “Robert’s got a wife and kids. Sergeant Williams does too.”

 

Lucy blinked.

 

“But Williams is dope and doesn’t go around jeopardizing others, so, that doesn’t excuse Robert for being a fathead.” He said with a scowl.

 

Lucy bit the inside of her lips, before letting out a soft laugh- something only Peggy had achieved. James’s scowl turned into a bright smile and he chuckled along with her.

 

She leaned back to lay on the ground and she spoke whilst looking up.

 

“Did your friend ever try to enlist?” She asked.

 

James shook his head.

 

“God you don’t know how many times he’s tried. The punk’s been tryin’ to enlist at every chance he gets.” He said.

 

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows.

 

“I would think the army would jump at the chance of having Steve fight on the frontlines.” She said. “He sounds courageous.”

 

James gnawed at the inside of his cheek uncertainly before shrugging.

 

“He’s got asthma and other health problems. He’d probably drop dead before he could even reach the enemy.” He frowned, leaning back to lay on the ground as well. “Not because I don’t believe in him, but because it’s dangerous an’ he’s got a lack of self-preservation.”

 

That made plenty of sense to Lucy. If she didn’t know any better Steve could quite possibly be the male version of Peggy. That woman would risk her life for Lucy at any moment, and Lucy would be honored as much as horrified. 

 

She hummed as James tilted his head.

 

“You know,” he started slowly, “ya kinda remind me of him. Strong, brave, fighting bullies.”

 

Lucy shook her head, putting her hands behind her head as a makeshift pillow.

 

“Your friend seems heroic.” She said.

 

She shut her eyes for a moment, remembering the dozens of men she’d murdered without catching a glimpse of their faces, Dr. Schaffer’s leering face and Schmidt’s calculating eye pinning her to the floor, the screams of sheer terror as her victims died.

 

She opened her eyes again.

 

“I’m far from it.”

 

James quirked an eyebrow, and she watched with slight confusion as a soft smile formed on his lips.

 

“Yeah, well, I think you might be wrong.” He said.

 

The confidence in his tone was perplexing and Lucy sat up slightly. She looked down at him as he shut his eyes and crossed his legs over each other, lying down gently against his hands.

 

“Cause you’re not runnin’ away from the fight. You’re running towards it.”

Chapter 15: Fourteen

"Friendship is built on two things: respect and trust.”

Wisconsin, America

December, 1942

HER HAND FIDDLED WITH the dog tags around her neck, the silver metal reflecting the bathroom light. She read the name of her father, alongside his serial number, picturing his bleeding corpse. She breathed deeply, lips tilting into a frown as she tucked it beneath her blouse. She turned the faucet on and splashed her face with cold water before turning on her heel and exiting the bathroom. Peggy was bent over an open suitcase, placing carefully folded clothes atop each other. The room was bare, mattresses folded over each other, windows shut. Her time at Camp McCoy had come to an end, and a part of her knew she’d miss it- the environment, the exercise, the training.

 

She stepped besides Peggy who threw her a uniform and a hairbrush. 

 

“Can’t fit it in mine.” She said sheepishly with a tired yawn.

 

Lucy caught the items and rolled her eyes lightheartedly as Peggy shut her suitcase, clicking the locks. Lucy stepped to her own suitcase, which was almost fully packed. She carefully placed Peggy’s clothes inside, besides her uniform and tactical gear. There was a stack of pill bottles to one side, all brand new, and courtesy of Abraham who was somewhere in Queens. She grabbed her half empty pill hidden under her mattress, taking a couple of pills and placing them into her mouth. She felt them dissolve as she swallowed them dry and shut her suitcase. She picked it up and held it to her side as Peggy stood in front of the doorway.

 

“So,” Lucy said as they stepped onto the dirt, “where are we going next?”

 

Peggy paused, right foot driving into the dirt in front of her abruptly, as if a sudden thought had crossed her mind. Her gaze morphed with subtle concern and a hint of guilt- possibly regret. 

 

“You’re following me because you want to, right? Not because I. . .asked?” She said slowly, hesitantly, possibly afraid of the answer.

 

Lucy knew a part of her followed Peggy because she had designated her as a handler. But it had been years and her mind had adjusted enough to know Peggy was a friend- family- and someone who wouldn’t ever use her the way HYDRA did. 

 

She was safe.

 

Lucy smiled at her and shook her head, almost laughing with admiration when Peggy let out the longest relieved sigh she’d ever heard.

 

“I’m glad, love.” She breathed. “I won’t ever force anything on you, okay?”

 

She could see the tenseness in Peggy’s shoulders dissipate completely, the stern firmness in her voice hitting Lucy with absolute clarity. Her lips tilted upwards into a soft smile, nodding in understanding. 

 

“‘Course Pegs. I know.” She said.

 

To some, it might have seemed redundant- Peggy reassuring her- but it was something Lucy appreciated and needed. She learned from repetition, and Peggy had been clear with when she should take orders, and when she shouldn’t- comfort was Peggy’s top priority, and she was invested in keeping Lucy healthy, both physically and mentally.

 

If Lucy was anyone else, she would’ve thought Peggy would make an exceptional therapist.

 

“Colonel Phillips wants us at Camp Lehigh sooner than later, but we’ve got a few weeks. I was planning on going to Queens. We could visit Abraham and maybe swing by your hometown Brooklyn?” Peggy suggested as they approached an army truck loaded with soldiers.

 

Most of the trucks were being used to transport everyone who had finished their training. All of them were being driven to the railroads and Lucy was nervous to say the least- trains weren’t her favorite.

 

“I’d like that.” She said with a small nod, wondering if she should visit her mother’s grave.

 

They entered one of the vehicles, metal seats jutting out from the open-trunk’s walls. Peggy sat down besides another SSR agent Lucy wasn’t really fond of- she didn’t really talk to other women except for Peggy- and she sat besides Peggy, putting her suitcase atop her feet.

 

A few other soldier’s filed into the truck, and Lucy was pleasantly surprised to see James who approached her with a dazzling smile.

 

“Mornin’ Lu.” He said as he sat down, duffel bag in hand.

 

Peggy glanced at Lucy in surprise and she decided to talk to her later.

 

She smiled at James softly.

 

“James.” She nodded. “How are you feeling?”

 

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned his back against the metal behind him.

 

“Relieved.” He yawned. “Finally get to see my sisters. An’ Steve.”

 

Lucy chuckled softly, adjusting the sleeve of her blouse. She leaned against her own seat as the truck moved forwards, driving roughly down the road.

 

“What about you?” He asked, turning his head to face her. “Is there anyone waiting for you? Back home.”

 

A few soldiers who were listening into the conversation snickered and Peggy refrained from putting them in their places. 

 

Lucy hummed, putting one leg over the other. 

 

“I’m afraid anyone waiting for me would be dead, so. . .” She said, trailing off.

 

James awkwardly shifted in his seat, sitting upwards in a more respectful position. The soldiers who’d snickered looked slightly apologetic and quickly looked away from her to avoid uncomfortable looks. 

 

“Sorry.” He muttered and Lucy shook her head with a small smile.

 

She leaned towards him, whispering in his ear.

 

“Awkward answers make people uncomfortable.” She said with an amused snicker.

 

She pulled away and James looked at her with an incredulous look, before grinning. 

 

“So you do have someone waitin’ for ya?” He asked quietly in a curious tone.

 

She shook her head.

 

“No, I haven’t met anyone.” She said. 

 

James’s lips split into a familiar smirk and she watched as he winked flirtatiously.

 

“Yet.” He drawled. 

 

She rolled her eyes and kicked him playfully in the foot. He sat straighter and pursed his lips, a small pout adorning his expression. He kicked her back, gentle but hard enough for her to feel. She stepped on his foot and feigned an apologetic look. He rolled his eyes, lips tilting upwards in amusement.

 

They continued a quiet and discreet foot war as the truck continued down the road. Lucy could feel Peggy glance at her ever so often, eyes curiously flickering back and forth between them. She didn’t ask anything but Lucy had a feeling Peggy was going to burst with questions soon.

 

When the truck came to a stop, the soldiers shuffled out, and Lucy jumped off swiftly, landing silently on her feet. Peggy followed with less fluidity in her jump as she held her suitcase. 

 

Lucy stepped towards the open door to the train, and her eyes wandered over the metallic interior with a hint of fear.

 

The last time she boarded a train, she was traveling back to her HYDRA base in Bavaria. She’d worn tactical gear with electric-circuited metal bands around her wrists, kneeling with hands held open-palmed for how many hours it took to get to their destination. Dr. Schaffer had been strict with where she was permitted to sit, or stand, and sitting on the same eye- level as him was disrespectful- or so he said. She could barely move her legs afterwards, becoming ever more reliant on Dr. Schaffer as a crutch. 

 

Trains weren’t exactly the center of her trauma but it definitely brought up a few unpleasant experiences. 

 

The grip she had on her suitcase tightened, knuckles turning white. She pressed her lips into a thin line as she swallowed thickly. She felt a hand brush against her arm and she swiveled on her heel. Her gaze met Peggy’s as she drew her hand away from her arm.

 

“Are you alright, love?” She asked gently.

 

Lucy blinked harshly, letting a smile pull at her lips.

 

“Yes. I’m- I’m alright.” She said.

 

She climbed into the train before Peggy could question the truth in her sentence. She avoided the soldier’s, pressing past them as she attempted to find a secluded place where she could be marginally alone- but the train was packed with people excited to be home. A part of her wondered how the German’s managed to fit over hundreds of Jews in one train cart.

 

She felt a hand grab her shoulder and her eye twitched with annoyance as she recognized Robert who looked at her with a cocky smirk.

 

“Oh, would you look at that Agent Baker, I seem to be unable to escape your ass.” He said.

 

Her lips curled into a small sneer and she moved to retort, one hand reaching towards his.

 

He shoved her, letting go of her shoulder before she could tear his fingers off. She knew Robert had a small ego- which she’d managed to rip in half- and he was holding a grudge for embarrassing him in front of the other recruits, even when he asked for a fist in the face.

 

He grabbed a cigarette from his pocket, flicking a lighter on, eyes narrowed on her. The cigarette was too familiar, and her heart thumped against her rib cage as it was lit. He inhaled and breathed the smoke in her face. 

 

She froze.

 

Robert suddenly became Dr. Schaffer, so vivid and real. His familiar eyes were soft and his voice was tender as he reached out and ran his calloused hand over her hair.

 

“You did well, Ver. So well.”

 

“Compliance is rewarded.”

 

“You don’t want me to be disappointed, do you?”

 

“Good. You did good enough. That’s all I ask of you.”

 

“Be enough.”

 

His voice whispered from every direction and suddenly the train was too packed, with too many civilians, with too many targets and witnesses and- she tried to get ahold of herself and she could barely stop herself from trembling.

 

Lucy felt herself be pushed aside, a firm arm grabbing hers.

 

“The hell are ya doin’ Robert? Tryin’ to suffocate a dame?!” She heard James snap angrily, his voice miles away.

 

Her hands slowly moved to grip onto his sleeve, fingers trembling- she still couldn’t take the smell of cigarettes. 

 

James breathed deeply, fiercely aware of the desperate grip she had on his arm. He breathed through his nose as Robert scoffed, leaning against the train wall.

 

“I ain’t suffocate no one Barnes. She’s a bitch.” He snapped, drawing in a breath on his cigarette.

 

James cocked his head to the side confidently.

 

“An’ ya got a small dick, don’tcha?” James sneered.

 

A few laughs exploded amongst the men and Lucy watched as the tip of Robert’s ears turned red with embarrassment. James pushed past a few people, escaping Robert while dragging Lucy behind him. She tripped over her feet, stumbling slightly as she kept a tight grip on her suitcase. James led her towards Peggy who was struggling to see past the packed groups of people. 

 

Lucy noticed she looked thoroughly panicked.

 

Peggy looked up at her with relief and she withered in the spot, grip relentless against James’s arm. Her eyes dropped to James’s back nervously, hoping Peggy wasn’t upset she’d entered the train without checking to see Peggy was still behind her.

 

She felt James look at her with concern as he led her towards one of the seats jutting out from the train walls. She sat down in silence and Peggy stood besides him as he gazed at her with concern.

 

“You don’t like tobacco smoke?” He asked and she watched Peggy inhale sharply.

 

Lucy swallowed thickly, heart threatening to explode.

 

‘Don’t like’ was an understatement- two years ago she would’ve sprinted to the nearest corner and cried for forgiveness. She simply couldn’t stand it without taking a hundred steps backwards in her mental recovery process. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be, but she still had a fervent need to hide from anyone and everyone.

 

“No.” She whispered, struggling to meet James’s eyes without mistaking him for someone else.

 

Peggy cleared her throat and James turned to her with genuine worry.

 

“I think it’s best if you give us a moment, Sergeant Barnes.” She said with a small nod.

 

James opened his mouth, lips tilting into a frown as if he wanted to argue. He closed his mouth, thinking twice. He looked at Lucy a second time and she shot him an exhausted smile. The stiffness in his shoulders dropped slightly and he nodded once sharply before wading back towards his place on the train.

 

Peggy sat down besides Lucy as she breathed in deeply, hands tapping together in a familiar pattern. Neither said a word as the train engine rumbled and the floor moved.

 

She activated her abilities and waved her hand in front of her face, turning the toxic molecules floating through the air into oxygen and clean air. She controlled her breathing, putting a hand over her heart, feeling her heartbeat calm slightly.

 

“I forgot how common it is to smoke.” She muttered.

 

Peggy cleared her throat, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulder. 

 

“I- I’m sorry. I forgot as well.” She said.

 

Lucy shook her head.

 

“It’s not your fault, Pegs. I wasn’t careful.” She smiled reassuringly to her.

 

Peggy’s brows creased and Lucy had the urge to recoil as her eyes lit with fire. Lucy knew she wasn’t angry at her, and she was more or less glaring towards HYDRA, but anger as an expression terrified Lucy to the core. She nervously twitched her fingers as Peggy huffed.

 

“I would shoot him if I could. Schaffer-“ Lucy watched Peggy grit her teeth “-Schaffer deserves a slow death.” 

 

Lucy gently patted Peggy’s hand on her arm, shaking her head. 

 

“It’s okay, Pegs. I’m- I’m getting better.” She said softly.

 

Peggy sighed, turning to her with an apologetic grimace on her face. She grabbed both of Lucy’s hands, rubbing them comfortingly.

 

“I shouldn’t be like this. You are recovering, and I’m glad you’re this strong.” She smiled.

 

Lucy nodded, before dropping her gaze to her suitcase. When she ever caught a whiff of tobacco smoke she quickly changed the molecules. After a few minutes her eyes flickered back and forth, searching for someone.

 

“Where did James- Is he- I didn’t thank him, did I?” She asked, standing to her feet.

 

Her eyes scanned the cart and saw James look from one side of the cart to the other, bored. He caught her gaze and he sat straight, waving slightly with his lips pressed into a thin line.

 

She waved back before scooting over and parting the seat next to her. James raised an amused eyebrow before standing with his duffel bag.

 

Peggy tapped her hand and she looked at her.

 

“When did this happen?” She asked.

 

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows with confusion.

 

“When did what?” She replied and Peggy’s eyes lit up brightly.

 

She chuckled and shook her head as James sat down besides her. Lucy turned her head back to look at him and he sent her a concerned smile.

 

“Feelin’ better?” He asked with his familiar Brooklyn drawl.

 

Lucy raised her hands in front of her eyes, twisting them back and forth. They managed not to tremble and she gave him a thumbs up.

 

“Yes.” She smiled. “Thank you, James. For what you did, not necessarily what you said.”

 

Her tone was lighthearted and the sentence was on the verge of becoming a joke. 

 

James chuckled- a deep throated sound from the back of his neck- and he shook his head.

 

“Nah, he definitely deserved that, for beatin’ on ya.” He paused, frowning. “He didn’t touch ya, did he?”

 

Lucy didn’t really think of that- not that it’d bother her. . .or maybe it would? She didn’t know nor did she remember if it did- and she clasped her hands together.

 

“No.” She sighed. “I’m sure he’s still upset. I did flip his face into the dirt.” 

 

James’s smile returned to his lips and he shrugged.

 

“Yes, well, being flipped does hurt.” He said and Lucy wiggled her eyebrows challengingly.

 

There was a mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she inspected him.

 

“Does it?” She questioned.

 

James rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“I’d rather not spar with you, thank you very much.” He huffed.

 

Lucy turned to Peggy and the two of them laughed. James’s smile widened as he watched the pair. He leaned his head against the train window, eyes shutting tiredly. 

 

Lucy could hear his heartbeat slow and she turned back to look at him. He looked peaceful, tired, and Lucy pulled his Sergeant hat over his eyes. She looked back at Peggy who looked like a proud mother.

 

“What is it?” She asked with a tilt of her head.

 

Peggy waved her hand towards James.

 

“It’s nice, isn’t it? To trust someone else.” She said softly.

 

Lucy shifted her gaze to James, his chest rising and lowering rhythmically.

 

“Is this trust?” She asked quietly.

 

Lucy hadn’t trusted anyone for years, nor did she have the desire to. It was something she hadn’t been allowed to give or take, and now that she could, it felt odd- distant, even. She trusted Peggy blindly because she was- she was Peggy. And her best-friend was an exception. James- well, she’d met him several times on several different occasions, all filled with peaceful and rather playful memories. He was alarmingly intelligent, well-mannered, and respectful. Sure, he was amusing to be around, but that didn’t really mean she trusted him, did she?

 

Peggy tilted her head, soft eyes trailing over Lucy's conflicted expression.

 

“Well if it’s not, I’d say you’ve got a bloody lovely friendship.” Peggy said, nodding towards him.

 

Lucy blinked several times, looking back at James, puzzled. 

 

Her mind was still adamant in categorizing James as a threat, only due to his height, weight, and combat skills. But another part of her was surprisingly okay with seeing him as something safe- an ally- that she could rely on. 

 

“It’s a good thing.” Peggy reassured and Lucy turned back to her, a smile playing at her lips.

 

“Confirmed, Pegs.” She said softly, turning her head towards the window.

 

Her reflecting stared from the window and she nodded to herself, confident as she shut her eyes and leaned her head against Peggy’s shoulder.

 

“Confirmed.”

 

Maybe James was a good thing.

 

Chapter 16: Fifteen

"The past beats inside of me like a second heart.”

Queens, New York

December, 1942

WHEN THE TRAIN CAME to a stop, Lucy was fast asleep, eyes shut, shoulders relaxed. Peggy was reluctant in shaking her awake but she did so anyway, and Lucy sat up instantly, startled. Her eyes flickered back and forth, before breathing a relieved sigh. Peggy grabbed her suitcase, standing, and Lucy mirrored her motions. She shifted her gaze to James and adjusted his hat over his head. He breathed in with a small groan, his hand reaching upwards. He pushed his hat from his eyes and looked up at Lucy blearily.

 

“Leavin’?” He asked in a tired voice.

 

Lucy paused, nodding silently. She hadn’t meant to wake him up, but she assumed living in Camp McCoy had given him habits- one which usually made soldier’s increasingly alert.

 

“I’ll try to visit sometime.” She said, tilting her head. “Sergeant James Barnes, 107th regiment. I’ll remember it.”

 

She watched as James blinked, running a hand over his face with a small yawn. He put his hat in his lap, lips tilting upwards in a small smile, eyes twinkling sadly.

 

“Tha’s me, alright.” He nodded. “Hope to see ya sometime- maybe I can buy you a drink.” 

 

Lucy smiled softly, shaking her head.

 

“I think I’d rather enjoy sitting under the stars with you.” She said.

 

Lucy did cherish the moments they’d snuck out of the barracks and spoke to each other about life. It was good to take a break from the army atmosphere and it was refreshing to be looked at without a hint of empathy or concern- not that she would ever reprimand Peggy for shooting her side-glances with said emotions.

 

James’s lips twitched and he nodded, then furrowed his eyebrows. 

 

“Wait a minute. . .did you just try to flirt with me?” He gasped with sudden realization.

 

Lucy laughed- a hearty one- and grinned. She put two fingers to her forehead, saluting him. He mirrored the gesture, before she turned and followed Peggy out of the train cart.

 

She placed her red Stetson Aviatrix hat over her head, the one Peggy had given her all those years ago. She pulled her hair behind her ear, falling into stride besides her as they walked out of the station. Her eyes flickered across the tall buildings and Lucy inched closer to Peggy as they entered the street, bustling with citizens. The sky was unsurprisingly dark as they continued down the sidewalk.

 

“We’re going to have to walk.” Peggy said, breaking the comforting silence hanging in the air. 

 

Lucy’s eyes flickered across the bright yellow taxi’s driving passed her, the bright hues of the paint dulled by the night sky. She swallowed thickly, a small shudder travelling down her spine as she remembered the last time she’d entered a taxi- it was why she was here in the first place.

 

“‘m sorry.” She sighed.

 

Lucy knew Peggy didn’t need the extra walk and must’ve been tired. They should’ve hopped into a taxi and Lucy would’ve just gritted her teeth, let the panic settle, and move on. The human body could only panic for twenty minutes anyway, and Lucy would come out the other end a bit shaky and disoriented- but that saved Peggy’s feet from exhaustion.

 

It was unfair for her, and Lucy felt guilt settle in the pit of her stomach.

 

Peggy shook her head- kind and forgiving as she always was- and she gently grasped her hand, rubbing the back of it soothingly.

 

“Nothing you need to apologize for. Besides, Abraham’s meeting us at a cafe and it’s only a few blocks away.” Peggy said reassuringly.

 

Lucy’s eyes flickered once over her before she nodded. They continued walking at a leisure pace, and after ten minutes or so, they reached a small cafe. 

 

Peggy stepped inside and Lucy followed, pausing as her eyes scanned the interior. 

 

The cafe was a lovely haven- with fairy lights lining the ceiling, slow turning fans distributing the warm air evenly across the interior- it was warm and homey, a place of comfort. Jazz hummed from the speakers and it accented the cream colored wallpapers. Picture frames lined the otherwise barren walls, black and white pictures filling the empty space between glass and cardboard.

 

The air was dense with the burnt scent of coffee, the wispy aroma swirling softly amongst the strangers loitering back and forth almost mindlessly. It swooped towards Lucy’s nose, captivating her enhanced senses with it’s cozy ambience like a winter blanket.

 

She looked back at Peggy who had disappeared. She blinked and found her walking towards a familiar figure sitting by the window with three cups of coffee in front of him. Her eyes widened with recognition and she smiled brilliantly as she hurriedly followed after her.

 

Abraham stood when the pair approached, shaking Peggy’s hand, then turning to Lucy. His cheeks, which had once been on the urge of being gaunt, were full, and the bags underneath his eyes had disappeared completely. 

 

Lucy knew he’d been living in Queens ever since he moved to America- that must’ve been nice, to have a constant in his chaotic life- and working on top-secret operations such as Project: Rebirth, not that she was supposed to know about that. 

 

He seemed unsure of whether to withdraw his hand, so Lucy grasped it, shaking it firmly before he could return his arm to his side.

 

A content twinkle travelled through his gaze, a look she’d never seen on his face before.

 

Abraham sat as she and Peggy did, his soft gaze flickering between the pair.

 

“Guten Tag, Lucy, Peggy.”

 

Good afternoon, Lucy, Peggy.

 

He nodded with a bright smile.

 

Lucy’s fingers curled around the white ceramic of one of the coffee cups, heart stirring with relief and joy, two emotions tenderly caressing the soft glint of her eyes. 

 

“Schön, dass es dir gut geht, Abraham.”

 

I’m glad you're okay, Abraham.

 

She said softly.

 

Peggy cleared her throat, looking between them with pursed lips.

 

“Schön zu sehen. . .”

 

Nice to. . .

 

She trailed off and raised her eyebrows, shooting both of them a pointed look. 

 

Abraham chuckled and Lucy looked at her apologetically.

 

“Ja, yes, sorry Peggy. English it is.” He said with amusement, adjusting his glasses.

 

Peggy nodded, lips tilting upwards.

 

“Thank you. I really should’ve studied German a bit better.” She said with a shake of her head.

 

Lucy hummed as she looked down at the cup in between her hands. 

 

Contrasting the pottery, her coffee was a sparkle of art, hundreds of golden shades twirling from the softest of breaths. Milk rid the blackness of its original state, and she could see the sugar molecules merge with its heat. The steam rising from the warmed glass was slowly dissipating, and it’s existence lingered like incense that’d reached the end of it’s short life. 

 

She wondered if she could enjoy it plain, without the sprinkling of sugar, or the touch of milk that unfurled throughout the cup.

 

“How have you been?” Abraham asked.

 

Peggy leaned into her booth seat, sighing softly.

 

“As best as I can be, Doctor. Camp McCoy was an. . .experience.” Peggy said with a small shrug.

 

Lucy’s fingers tapped against the cheap ceramic- one two, pause, one, two, three, pause- and Abraham’s soft gaze lingered on her for a moment.

 

“And you?” He asked.

 

Lucy blinked and looked up from the coffee, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

 

“Ah well,” she hummed, “the base felt familiar- soldier’s marching back and forth, drills, training. It was surprisingly fun, actually.” 

 

She was very clearly referring to the similar aspects American bases had compared to HYDRA bases, and Abraham seemed to understand. 

 

Lucy had been slightly terrified by the prospect of roaming an army base, assuming she’d be treated similar to HYDRA- not that anyone could ever be worse than HYDRA. But she was regarded with a surprising amount of respect, which dissipated her fears and helped a hint of pride swell in her chest.

 

“Good, good.” Abraham nodded before waving towards the cups of coffee. “It isn’t too sweet. I only asked for a little bit of milk and sugar. You don’t need to drink it, of course, if you don’t want to.”

 

He adjusted his glasses with an encouraging look.

 

Lucy recognized the tender care in his voice, as if he was walking a thin line with her, knowing she could be triggered in one way or another. Lucy felt guilty, faintly wondering how Peggy managed to handle her until she seemed ready to be self-sufficient and live as any other normal person. She’d been so terrified of doing something wrong or upsetting Peggy she’d barely moved a muscle until Peggy ordered her to. 

 

Peggy had noticed- of course she had- and stopped giving her orders, but rather directives; questions. She’d despised that because questions were meant to be traps, contradicting and dangerous, but Peggy had been determined.

 

Of course, Abraham didn’t know how much she mentally recovered, and Lucy was relieved to hear his voice, happy to know he was living his life as free as a bird.

 

Her soft grip on the cup's handle tightened as she carefully brought the pottery to her lips. One of her pinkies supported the base, as her other lay gently to the side, unable to fit under the miniscule gap where it was meant to be. 

 

She leaned her head back a fraction of an inch, letting her tongue dip beneath her teeth as she drew in the heartening liquid. It’s nutty flavor slipped over her lips and explored every crevice of her mouth before slipping down her throat soothingly, warmly travelling down her chest and settling comfortably in her stomach. She gently returned her cup to the table beneath her, satisfied.

 

“It isn’t.” Lucy said happily. “I'd say it’s actually perfect. Thank you, Abraham.” 

 

Abraham’s lips split upwards into a bright smile, eyes twinkling behind his glasses contentedly.

 

“Your welcome. I’m glad you like it.” He said with a small incline of his head, taking a sip of his own coffee. 

 

Lucy let her eyes wander to the window besides them, catching the sight of strangers walking down the street, homeless men, women, and children, stray dogs appearing from alleyways, only to disappear once again. She could vaguely hear the sound of fighting, perhaps a block or so away. The world was bright- alive for a nation struggling through the Great Depression.

 

She clasped her hands together on the table, turning her head to Abraham.

 

“What about you? How have you been?” She asked and he leaned back into his seat.

 

Abraham tilted his head from side to side.

 

“I would say I’ve been a little stressed recently. I’ve stumped myself on the ah, project I’ve been working on.” He said inconspicuously.

 

Lucy knew Project: Rebirth was kept quiet, so she merely nodded alongside Peggy whose brows furrowed with slight concern.

 

“You haven’t been testing it have you?” She asked.

 

Abraham instantly paled, and Lucy almost felt like she’d stepped backwards in time, remembering the haggard and terrified looks that used to cross his face. He gripped the handle of his coffee cup and shook his head fiercely.

 

“Nein, no, not after Schmidt used it.” He said.

 

It was Lucy’s turn to furrow her eyebrows as she looked between them. She didn’t have a single part of her that cared about Schmidt- she’d barely interacted with him in the first place- but she hadn’t seen him after murdering her last target, so she was completely oblivious to the fact he’d injected himself with a Super-Soldier serum. 

 

She frowned.

 

“Is Schmidt dead?” She blurted.

 

Because if he was, she’d have one less thing to run from- but that would be a miracle, wouldn’t it?

 

Abraham shook his head and Peggy bitterly huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“If only he was.” She muttered.

 

Abraham cleared his throat.

 

“He survived but the serum- the serum altered his,” Abraham waved at his face, a shudder traveling down his spine, “his physique. It worked, partly, and the serum enhanced more than that.”

 

Lucy nodded in understanding as Abraham tapped the side of his head.

 

“Bad becomes worse.” He said. “And his ‘bad’ definitely became worse.”

 

The words rang familiar to her ear and Lucy furrowed her eyebrows as she thought. She could vividly see Dr. Zola adjusting his glasses, lips tilting into a bitter frown. His mouth moved- good becomes great, bad becomes worse- and the phrase was followed by your morals and emotions are. . .intense.

 

She inhaled sharply as his expression turned sour.

 

Dr. Zola had been correct- her anxiety had skyrocketed, and her moments of joy were prolonged. Her desire to fight for what was right had increased, but, so had her bitterness towards the universe. 

 

She slowly realized if Schmidt had an ounce of good in him, it would be overwhelmed by the sheer malice traveling through his body- swallowing his being. Schmidt could not be better, not anymore: his path was only a downward spiral of insanity.

 

“And Schmidt does not have enough good in him. Enough good that can become great.” She frowned and Abraham looked slightly surprised.

 

He nodded in silent agreement and Lucy grabbed her cup of coffee, placing it to her lips as she took a sip. 

 

Peggy tapped her fingers together as a restful silence settled between them. They sat comfortably, enjoying the rare moment of peace that managed to intertwine all three friends. Lucy’s eyes wandered to the window, her stomach filled with the warmth of her coffee.

 

“Are you. . .happy? Both of you?” Abraham broke the silence softly, eyes shifting to gaze at them.

 

Peggy leaned back into her seat.

 

“I’d say I’m content with my life, though I wish there was something more happy to be about.” She said, and Abraham hummed.

 

Her eyes flickered to Lucy who set her coffee cup down.

 

“I don’t think I can say I’m. . .necessarily happy.” She paused. “Is that weird? That this- this still feels surreal to me?”

 

Her eyes dropped to the table, hands fidgeting together with a hint of shame traveling through her body. She was forever appreciative of Peggy and the friendship she offered, the only unchanging normalcy in her life, but everyday she wondered if it was all a dream- that she’d never really escaped HYDRA, joined the SSR, and travelled to New York. 

 

She was smart enough to know what was real, and what wasn’t, but she was hesitant- reluctant, even- in trusting herself. 

 

Her tongue darted across her lips as she formulated her next sentence.

 

“You know. . .when I was following orders he never managed to- to erase who I am.” She spoke quietly, shifting in her seat. “I-I withdrew from myself. I chose to. . .”

 

She snapped her head to the side, nervous, and Peggy placed a tender hand over hers, rubbing it gently.

 

“He locked me in my mind and threw away the key, but I was still- I was still there.” 

 

She slowly lifted her head.

 

“I just chose not to break the door down.”

 

A sharp stab of guilt pierced her gut and she breathed deeply, shutting her eyes for a moment, hearing the sound of gunshots, seeing the molecules tear apart, smelling the fresh scent of blood. She opened her eyes again, meeting Peggy’s eyes, which glistened with unshed tears.

 

It wasn’t a sympathetic look, by any means. In fact, Lucy almost thought she saw a hint of admiration.

 

“Oh, love, none of that was your fault.” Peggy said softly, eyes flickering across her face. “It could never be your fault.”

 

“Peggy’s right, Lucy.” Abraham nodded with a gentle smile, an unwavering look of confidence travelling between his eyes. “What happened to you was never your choice.”

 

Her lips tilted into an uneasy frown, the expression prompting Abraham to continue.

 

“Du hast so hart gekämpft, wie du konntest.” 

 

You fought as hard as you could.

 

He reassured.

 

Lucy shook her head mutely. 

 

A part of her wanted to exclaim she never fought hard enough. Phrases, programmings, and code words had quite literally stabbed it’s way through her flesh, tore her skin to the point she didn’t know if it was merely clumps of blood, so she’d relented. She gave in and listened earnestly to their orders just to make sure she could appease Dr. Schaffer. 

 

If she didn’t, there would be consequences and she couldn't bear her pain threshold being tested everyday.

 

She’d given up- for good reason, maybe- but there should've been something more she could’ve done. 

 

Lucy managed not to aggressively grab her cup, keeping her hand steady as she drained the rest of her drink. She placed it carefully back onto the table.

 

“Are you happy?” She asked.

 

Abraham smiled sadly, as if he wished she could be happy as well.

 

“I like to think so.” He said and Lucy nodded.

 

She wondered if she’d ever feel that specific way.

 

They sat together for a few hours, laughing and talking about their lives. Lucy managed to contribute to the conversation with a smile on her face, easily amused by Abraham’s stories in the lab. They shared somewhat embarrassing and triumphant stories from their experience at Camp McCoy.

 

It was comforting and Lucy felt carefree for the first time in awhile.

 

Abraham stifled a yawn as he looked between them.

 

“Will you be staying in Queens?” He asked.

 

Lucy shook her head, glancing at Peggy.

 

“We’ll be in Brooklyn.” She clarified. “Just to take a little break. Afterwards we’ll be in Camp Lehigh.”

 

Abraham hummed in understanding as he blinked the sleep from his eyes.

 

Lucy noticed and she grasped the handle of her suitcase standing to her feet, inviting Peggy and Abraham to do the same.

 

“It’s getting late, Abraham, I think you should get some rest.” She said kindly.

 

Abraham wiped his eyes, looking apologetic.

 

Peggy smiled at him brightly.

 

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll be busy tomorrow.” She nodded.

 

Abraham shook both of their hands, and the three of them stepped out of the cafe.

 

Lucy sighed as a cold breeze swirled around her, the warmth of the cafe fading into her memories as she stared at the night sky.

 

“We’ll see you around, Doctor.” Peggy said, and Lucy turned to him.

 

He chuckled fondly, nodding.

 

“Of course.” 

 

His lips tilted upwards into a smile and he waved in farewell.

 

Lucy watched as he turned and walked down the sidewalk at a leisure pace, hands in his pockets. She blinked before turning her head to look at Peggy.

 

They stepped down the sidewalk in silence, and Lucy’s gaze shifted from one building to the other, thoroughly interested by the architecture. Anyone they passed seemed to be smiling, or content with themselves, as well as the way they were living. At least, it’s what Lucy saw, and she had the urge to stop, to slow down, to experience the world as it was. The SSR agency had served her well, and she’d kept up with the pace of the army. It was what she was familiar with, and the only thing she knew- the only thing she thought she knew.

 

She could enjoy the little things, like having coffee at a cafe, picking up a book and deciding to read it, simply walking across the city. She could visit places she’d always wanted to go when she was five, like eating the cake she’d always see in the windows of bakeries.

 

Suddenly, being an SSR agent was less appealing than before.

 

Her lips pursed as they continued walking and she vaguely felt Peggy glance at her.

 

“You’ve got that face again.” She observed and Lucy snapped her head up.

 

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

 

“You’re thinking face.” Peggy continued. “Your eyebrows furrow and you bite the inside of your lip.”

 

Lucy blinked, and looked down at herself, as if she could see her own lip.

 

“When you made that decision on that truck, to follow Abraham and I, you made that face. When you chose to be an SSR agent, you made that face.” She paused, slowing in her steps. “So. . .what decision are you making now?”

 

Lucy’s eyes flickered across Peggy.

 

“I was. . .I was thinkin’.” She bit the inside of her lip. “Maybe it would be. . .nice. To stop running for a minute. To just. . .”

 

She breathed softly.

 

“. . .live.”

 

Peggy slowed to a stop, and Lucy did as well. 

 

“You want to-?”

 

Lucy hurriedly cleared her throat.

 

“It was just a thought.” She smiled. “Just a thought.”

 

Peggy grasped her arm, clearly unconvinced.

 

“No,” she said, “it isn’t. Lucy, this fight- this war- it doesn’t have to be your fight. If you want to lay low for a while, you can.”

 

Lucy buried her anxiety, wondering if leaving Peggy was the right thing to do. She was nervous to be separate from her because she was used to her presence and Peggy was technically her handler in one way or another and she had no one else to rely on and Peggy probably didn’t want to be left alone and they really were good friends and-

 

She hesitantly tilted her head, deciding to test the waters.

 

“That’s not what you want. Is it?” She asked.

 

Peggy put her hands on her hips, shaking her head.

 

“What I want matters to an extent, but what you want matters too.” She said honestly. 

 

Lucy frowned, confused by her amount of understanding.

 

“But I told you I wanted to follow you.” She said.

 

Peggy smiled softly, eyes flickering sadly.

 

“Yes, but you can always change your mind.” She said.

 

Lucy inwardly panicked- that was never clarified in the mission parameters- not that there were any mission parameters in the first place. 

 

She breathed deeply to calm herself.

 

“If you want to stay here in Queens, you can. If you want to go back to England, you can. If you want to come to Camp Lehigh with me, you can.” Peggy continued.

 

Lucy didn’t realize she had so many options and she furrowed her eyebrows with confusion 

 

“So. . .what do you want to do?” Peggy asked softly.

 

Lucy looked up.

 

“I think. . .I think I might like Brooklyn.”

Chapter 17: Sixteen

"Whoever is trying to bring you down is already beneath you.”

Brooklyn, New York

June, 1943

“WAR CONTINUES TO RAVAGE Europe. But help is on the way. Every able-bodied young man is lining up to serve his country.” 

 

Lucy’s sharp blue eyes flickered back and forth across the black and white movie screen, U.S. soldier’s marching back and forth before disappearing. They were quickly replaced by the “able-bodied” young men the announcer was speaking of, lining up for enlistment with earnest eagerness. They were examined by a doctor with a stethoscope and she let out a quiet sigh, unpleasant memories tickling at the back of her mind. She reached a hand up to her head, curling her fingers around the edge of her red hat and shifting it slightly. 

 

Less than a year had passed since she’d parted ways with Peggy- deciding to be in Brooklyn rather than Camp Lehigh- and she’d found herself living in a cozy corner of an apartment, living a rather monotonous life. Most times she could be seen at her grocery job- she vaguely envisioned an appalled Dr. Schaffer, watching in horror as his “work” merely packed groceries for the average citizen- and she managed not to trip rude customers with her abilities. 

 

A few times she thought she caught a glimpse of James through the window of the grocery store, but she knew he was in Camp Upton- at least most of the 107th regiment was, according to Colonel Phillips- so she never really took a second look. After work she usually walked leisurely across the street, entered a phone booth and put a nickel or two into it’s metallic pay box, connecting herself to Peggy who travelled between Army bases throughout New Jersey.

 

Other than Peggy, she only ever conversed with Abraham who would drive by and visit, dropping off another package of pills, occasionally staying for dinner or a cup of coffee. His presence was always welcome, and she was glad to have at least one friend she could speak to.

 

“Even little Timmy is doing his part, collecting scrap metal.”

 

Lucy’s lips twitched upwards in amusement as an image of a boy throwing metal into a wagon appeared on screen.

 

Today she’d used her paycheck to watch a film, and she wasn’t really sure whether to regret it or not as the screen flickered on. She waited for the cartoon to start patiently- the fact that she was sitting in a comfortable chair in a theatre was a miracle, and she was grateful for what she had.

 

In another world she’d be killing hundreds, if not thousands. 

 

“Nice work Timmy!”

 

The boy flashed off screen and her eyes trailed across the soldiers marching.

 

“Who cares? Play the movie already!” Someone yelled.

 

Her eyelid twitched and she tilted her head to the side as she pinpointed who had yelled within the crowd of people. She frowned as she bore holes into the back of the man’s skull, eyeing him with a stare that was slowly turning into a glare. He seemed to feel her gaze and she unnoticeably flicked her eyes back to the screen as he swiveled his head around.

 

The man frowned and turned back to the screen as Lucy leaned back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other.

 

“Hey, ya wanna show some respect?” The man on her left whispered disapprovingly.

 

Lucy glanced at him through her peripheral vision.

 

The man was at least five inches shorter, blonde hair pulled neatly to one side. He wasn’t, condensed, per say, like Dr. Zola, but stick-ly, his arms seemingly skin and bones. He wore a beige colored suit jacket with matching pants, a tie neatly placed at the center of his white button-up shirt.

 

The other man promptly ignored him and the announcer of the screen droned on.

 

“Meanwhile, overseas, our brave boys are showing the Axis powers that the price of freedom is never too high.” 

 

A group of medics carrying injured men on stretchers came into view and Lucy hummed softly under her breath. She knew the Americans would fight with every molecule in their being, but the Nazi’s and HYDRA were just as fervent as keeping their freedom- one they would fight for until everyone was dead or dying.

 

She heard a few sniffles from her right and pulled a strand behind her ear as she tried to ignore the woman crying for whatever relative went overseas to fight for America.

 

“Let’s go! Get on with it!” The man whined from his seat.

 

Several other people in the theatre stared at him with distaste, but unsurprisingly, none of them stood up to his words. 

 

Lucy found it hard to be personally offended by the man’s behavior. He was annoying at best, and she wasn’t going to waste her time fighting for America’s dignity when she’d left the SSR agency for a reason. She’d rather keep to herself and draw absolutely zero attention to herself- attention led to recognition and recognition led to being found, and that- 

 

That was dangerous.

 

Lucy sighed as he waved his hand, pointing at the screen in outrage.

 

“Hey! Just start the cartoon!” He hollered.

 

Lucy’s hand twitched and she pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping that was the last of his outbursts.

 

The short blonde man besides her clenched his jaw and he leaned forwards in his seat, eyes alight with fire.

 

“Hey, ya wanna shut up?!” He snapped.

 

Lucy raised an eyebrow at how brave he was, and she observed him for a second time. The only pain he could produce was from the bony-ness of his knuckles, and even then, he barely had enough muscle clinging to his upper arms for it to do any damage. He was as threatening as a hamster, and Lucy had subconsciously categorized him as “safe”.

 

“Together with allied forces, we’ll face any threat, no matter the size.”

 

The man who’d complained stood to his feet and Lucy tilted her head back to look at him. He was just as tall as her, and she heard the blonde-haired man besides her swallow thickly. She found it ironic- we’ll face any threat, no matter the size- and a flicker of amusement travelled between her eyes. 

 

She expected the short-tempered man to glower at her film companion, then sit. But he stomped over towards her, looking like an outraged child, and pointed at him, then jerked his head to the side. It was the universal sign for “let’s take this outside” and Lucy stood from her chair as the blonde-haired man stepped out of the aisle with a disapproving scowl on his face, not a single hint of fear flickering between his eyes, which were deep blue, soft sea-green speckled across the edges of his irises.

 

It vaguely reminded her of James’s eyes, though his were a shade or two lighter.

 

The two men stepped outside and Lucy leaned back into her chair, shifting her gaze to the screen. Several people in the room glanced back at them but did nothing, and Lucy felt a twinge of worry travel through her body. She hadn’t even spoken to the man she’d sat next to but the clear size difference between his opponent gave him a clear disadvantage. If the man attempted to drive a right hook to the other man’s cheek it would only ever hit his chin and that was rarely ever a good shot. The short man needed his fist- or leg- to either connect between the opponent’s eyes or between his legs. 

 

Both hits wouldn’t be easy for a man with an immense lack of muscle, and she could see the brave man hitting the ground with a bruise on his face. The image was on the verge of haunting when she knew she was one of the only people in the theatre that could help him- not that the courageous look in the blonde-haired man’s eyes could be beaten out of him.

 

The announcer continued on for a few seconds before Lucy grunted and pushed herself to her feet, pulling her hat lower as she stepped out of the theatre.

 

A soft summer breeze reached her shoulders and swirled across her face as she turned down the sidewalk with the sun as her compass. She stepped past strangers as she strained her ears to hear the sound of fists colliding with fists. Metal clattered to the left of her, followed by a grunt of pain, and she swiveled on her heel, walking steadily towards the film theatre alleyway. 

 

When she crossed the corner she caught sight of the blonde-haired man hitting the ground with a thud, his opponent slamming a fist across his cheek as he pressed himself back onto his feet. Lucy narrowed her eyes and she stalked closer, remaining silent as the blonde-haired man picked up one of the garbage can lids, holding it in front of him like a shield. The taller man merely grabbed it and threw him to the side, landing another firm punch to the blonde-haired man’s face.

 

She watched with surprise as the short man pushed himself to his feet- again- and she tilted her head with curiosity. She reached the back staircase connected to the theatre wall of the alleyway and brushed dirt from the steel quietly, silently sitting with her hands clasped in her lap. She refrained from jumping into the fight, only because she believed the blonde-haired man had the guts to win.

 

“You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” The taller man sneered.

 

Lucy’s lips tilted into a firm frown as the blonde-haired man held his fists in front of him protectively, eyes narrow into a glare.

 

“I can do this all day.” He claimed confidently.

 

He reared his fist back before launching himself forwards, one hand held feebly in front of himself as a flesh shield- like a boxer. Her eye twitched with disappointment when the taller man blocked his punch, and threw the short man into the garbage can. 

 

She decided enough was enough, and cleared her throat, causing the man to swivel on his heel with wide eyes of surprise. His angry gaze dissipated and she tilted her head to the side as a flirtatious smirk crossed his face. She said nothing as she stood, brushing faux dirt off her high waisted sailor pants. 

 

Her eyes flickered to the blonde-haired man on the ground as he groaned and tried to push himself to his feet.

 

“Do you feel better?” She asked with no inflection to her tone- blank, empty.

 

The man raised a dubious eyebrow before grinning, jutting his chin out arrogantly.

 

“Impressed sweetheart?” He said.

 

Lucy blinked and stepped towards him until they were only a foot apart.

 

“I bet you feel better.” She started slowly. “Beating somebody else to make you feel good about yourself- give a boost to your ego. I’ve met people like you- useless sons of bitches.”

 

An image of Dr. Schaffer flickered across her mind and she clenched her jaw, well aware she’d insulted a man she knew her mind still missed.

 

The man’s smirk dropped comically and he stared at her with a fixated glare.

 

“Gal’s like you gotta learn some manners.” He sneered, raising a fist. 

 

Lucy remained unmoving, fully capable of beating the man into nothing but bones. She watched the fist near her face and she turned to dislocate his arm, only to be shoved out of the way. She furrowed her eyebrows, pursing her lips as she hit the ground, landing in a crouch. The short man had gotten to his feet again, and he was standing above her with rage rippling off his shoulders.

 

“Ya got no regard for a dame, do ya?!” He snapped.

 

Lucy jumped to her feet swiftly as the man moved to swing at the blonde-haired man again. Before she could protect the short man, their opponent’s arm was grabbed and he was thrown backwards. 

 

“Hey!” 

 

Lucy watched as a man dressed in a sergeant uniform stepped forwards, a newspaper in one hand. He frowned at the tall man, glaring with predatorial eyes- predatorial blue oceans with swirling currents- her eyes widened with recognition.

 

“Pick on someone your own size!” James glared.

 

The man threw his fist at James who merely dodged and punched him square across the face. He kicked him hard in the ass and the man stumbled, seemingly smart enough to run away. Lucy stepped forwards with crossed arms, watching him disappear around the corner.

 

She turned and glanced at James as the blonde-haired man leaned against the brick wall, rubbing a busted lip with the sleeve of his jacket. She adjusted her hat, which managed not to fall off her head as she approached them.

 

“Sometimes I think you like getting punched.” James said with a fond tone of voice.

 

Lucy’s brows furrowed in confusion- clearly James knew the man, and hadn’t swung by just because it was the right thing to do.

 

The short man didn’t look up at James as he wiped grime off his sleeves, groaning in pain as he lifted one hand above his eye, which was either cut or bruised- she couldn’t tell from her angle. 

 

“I had him on the ropes.” The blonde-haired man replied as he blearily tried to grow aware of his surroundings.

 

James picked up a fallen paper from the ground and Lucy could see the enlistment papers clearly, written with the names of Steven Grant Rogers. The name rang familiar in her ears and she instantly realized who she had attempted to save- it was Steve from James’s stories, his best friend.

 

Lucy dragged one foot backwards, unsure if she was invading a personal moment, but hesitant to leave the pair without a trace.

 

“How many times is this?” James sighed in exasperation.

 

She paused, intrigued and ears listening intently.

 

“Oh, you’re from Paramus now?” James nodded, though he looked disapproving, if anything else. “You know it’s illegal to lie on the enlistment form. And seriously, Jersey?”

 

The short man- Steve- finally lifted his head, blanching at the sight of James in his uniform. He stopped wiping at his face, shoulders slumping and hands lowering to his sides. His eyes flickered with a hint of grief and what Lucy assumed was jealousy.

 

“You get your orders?” Steve asked.

 

James breathed deeply, tilting his head to the side with his lips pressed into a thin smile.

 

“The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow.” James said confidently with a well-hidden melancholic tone.

 

He seemed resigned to his fate, and Lucy wished she could take him out of the army. James shouldn’t be risking his life like this, not when he had a family to take care of, and a friend needing to be saved from blundering idiots.

 

Steve scoffed- not towards James, but towards himself- and he looked down at the floor. He shook his head with a deep frown.

 

“I should be going.” 

 

Lucy blinked in surprise- Steve really was eager to fight, not that she expected anything less from someone who tried to enlist more than once.

 

A moment of silence passed between the pair and Lucy decided to take it as an invitation to remind them of her still lingering presence. She cleared her throat and the two almost jumped, turning on their heels quickly.

 

James’s lips tilted upwards into a beaming grin, and his eyes twinkled, completely replacing the depressing slump of his shoulders. He opened his mouth to greet her but Steve beat him to it. 

 

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Steve asked with concern.

 

Lucy shot him an appreciative glance.

 

“Yes. Thank you.” She said, deciding his bravery was indeed something to be thankful of.

 

James blinked, then chuckled at Steve’s worry. Steve looked up at him with confusion and James stepped to the left of Lucy, holding a hand out towards her.

 

“This is-“ he started.

 

Lucy pulled her hand from her pocket, holding it towards Steve.

 

“My name is Lucille, but I prefer Lucy. I’m an SSR agent on leave.” She smiled in greeting.

 

Steve took her hand, shaking it with a dumbfounded expression.

 

“Nice to meet you, Lucy.” He said.

 

Steve continued to shake her hand without letting go and Lucy raised an eyebrow as his eyes flickered with awe. She continued to smile, amusement twinkling in her eyes as James cleared his throat. 

 

Steve finally let go, cheeks tinting red as he awkwardly shoved his hands in his pockets.

 

“She’s a fighter, Steve.” James continued. “She could flip me into the ground right now, and I wouldn’t notice until i’s too late.”

 

Lucy rolled her eyes at him, hitting him in the arm good-naturedly. Steve looked between them before realization crossed his face.

 

“You’re Agent Baker? From Camp McCoy?” He asked and Lucy nodded.

 

She was intrigued by the fact James spoke about her, but it wasn’t exactly surprising. She’d spoken about James to Peggy and Abraham before- his marksmanship parred with hers and that was an impressive feat she’d like to tell others. 

 

“That would be me.” She smiled softly.

 

James examined her for a moment, before frowning.

 

“When did you get here?” He asked with confusion, and Lucy rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

 

She’d never gone out of her way to find James’s location, nor had she informed him of her stay in Brooklyn. She felt mildly guilty for doing so, only because she wouldn’t have minded being with James and meeting him for an occasional walk around the city, or to sit under the stars, like they used to.

 

“I moved here.” She said. “After Christmas. It was a last second decision. I decided to slow down a bit- take a break from the army.”

 

James blinked several times in surprise, before pouting childishly.

 

“And you never told me.” He joked, shoulders slumping as he sulked. 

 

Lucy shot him an apologetic look.

 

“I was busy?” She said in a questioning tone, and James laughed.

 

Her lips tilted into a smile.

 

An off silence settled between them and Steve shifted on his feet slightly, unsure of what to say. Lucy pushed her hands into her pockets as she waited for someone else to speak. James’s eyes merely flickered between them, waiting, watching, until he stepped forwards, throwing one arm around Steve’s shoulder, the other around her.

 

She barely flinched, shaking her head at his antics as he pulled them out of the the alleyway

 

“C’mon, guys.” He said as they walked.“It’s my last night.” 

 

He pulled his arms from their shoulders, glancing down at Steve and looking him up and down.

 

“Gotta get ya clean’d up.” He continued.

 

Lucy raised a curious eyebrow and Steve frowned.

 

“Why where’re we goin’?” He asked half-heartedly.

 

James held his newspaper out to Steve, and he took it, furrowing his eyebrows as he read the front page.

 

“The future.” He grinned, resembling that of a school boy on a field trip.

 

His gaze shifted to her as they reached the end of the alleyway, emerging onto the street. 

 

Lucy stood stiffly, deciding whether or not she should walk home, re-enter the theatre, or stick by James for a little bit. Her eyes flitted across the buildings before it landed back to Steve. She noticed the blood threatening to drip from his busted lip, the purple bruise forming on his cheek and the cut above his eyebrow. He also had remnants of garbage clinging onto his clothes and red knuckles from hitting his opponent feebly once or twice.

 

She chewed on the inside of her lip before putting her hands on her hips.

 

“Do you- Uh-“ she cleared her throat “-do you live far?” 

 

Steve winced as he held the back of his hand to his lips.

 

“Just a few blocks away.” He said.

 

Lucy glanced between the pair before she pointed to her apartment complex, which was quite literally across the street.

 

“I live right-“ she moved her finger to point at the second floor “-there. So. . .if you want- if you want you can clean up at my place?”

 

She didn’t fully trust James and she sure as hell didn’t trust Steve, but she knew Steve wouldn’t be able to hurt her in any way possible- and she already knew James’s fighting style as well. So, if anything went south, she could apprehend both of them without breaking much of a sweat.

 

Steve looked at her with surprise before relief flooded his eyes.

 

“That would be great.” He said before hurriedly adding- “if you don’t mind.”

 

Lucy chuckled.

 

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did mind.”

 

Her gaze shifted to James whose eyes subtly flickered between the pair, another look of resignation traveling throughout his body. He didn’t seem to notice she was looking at him until she spoke.

 

“What do you say?” She asked.

 

James snapped his head up to look at her.

 

“Yeah, why not?” He grinned brightly.

 

But the smile didn’t reach his eyes and she tried not to frown, vaguely aware of Steve who looked up at her with admiration.

 

They crossed the street swiftly, avoiding cars and oncoming traffic as they reached the building.

 

She stepped upstairs to her apartment, stopping in front of the door- walnut framed, old and slowly deteriorating. It was meant to keep out the worst of weather rather than intruders- some could even call it flimsy- but it did its job, and Lucy could do enough to protect herself. She fiddled with her pockets and looped her fingers across the familiar metal of her keys before clicking it into the lock. She pushed the door open, hanging her keys besides the door and peeling her jacket off her shoulders. She pulled off her shoes and pressed them neatly to the side. 

 

She kept one hand on the door, as James and Steve followed behind her. They took off their shoes and placed them besides hers as they walked inside. Their eyes trailed across the interior of her living room, which was rather plain. There was a couch sitting in front of a small box TV, a coffee table accompanying it. To the left of her was a kitchen and a dining table- further down the hall was a bathroom and her bedroom. 

 

She shut the door behind them and draped her coat across the couch.

 

“I’ve got a first aid kit in the bathroom.” She said as she looked between James and Steve. “You can sit over there.”

 

She pointed to her dining table and Steve stepped towards one of the chairs, sitting down with a small groan of pain. She felt mildly bad for him as James shook his head and pulled his coat off his shoulders. She travelled down the hall, faintly hearing James scolding Steve for getting into a fight. 

 

She flicked the light on in the bathroom and her eyes lingered on the pill bottle laying open on her sink counter. She put a hand over her heart, calming herself from a small rush of panic as she grabbed the bottle, placing it into the cabinet beneath her sink. She grabbed a white and red box, placing it on top of the counter. She took a small hand towel and soaked it in cold water before carrying both objects between her hands.

 

She turned down the hall and walked back towards the dining table, placing the kit onto it. She handed the towel to Steve and he took it thankfully, pressing it to his face with one hand while opening the first-aid kit with the other. She glanced at James who was hovering by the fridge.

 

“James.” She said.

 

He looked back at her and she pointed behind him.

 

“There’s a pack of frozen peas on the- yeah. . .” She trailed off as he opened the fridge and pulled out a plastic bag. 

 

He walked over towards Steve who looked up at him with a sheepish smile. James scowled but his gaze was soft as he pressed the bag to his cheek.

 

“Do you want some coffee?” She asked, looking between them. “I have chocolate too. It’ll make you feel better- at least I’d like to think so.”

 

Steve’s eyes twinkled at the mention of the candy but he shook his head instead.

 

“Oh no, you don’t have to, ma’am.” He said.

 

She raised an eyebrow, both at the respectful “ma’am” that left his lips, and the obviously forced refusal of what he clearly would like to eat. James grabbed the chair besides Steve and sat down, swiping his eyebrow with an alcohol swab as Lucy crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“Are you sure? They have hazelnuts and they’re delicacies from Germany-“ she furrowed her eyebrows “-unless you’ve got allergies.”

 

Steve looked further enticed but he shook his head, smiling even when he seemed hungry. She glanced at James who gave her an “I told you so” look and she realized she was dealing with the most stubborn man in the world- that was Steve for you.

 

Her lips tilted upwards and she grabbed a kettle from her cabinet, placing it on the fire. She glanced back at Steve who opened his mouth to protest.

 

“It’s not a problem, really.” She said as she walked over towards her pantry, grabbing several wrapped chocolates Abraham had given the last time he’d visited.

 

She tossed them at Steve who caught them swiftly- his reaction time was good- and he handed one to James, who finished cleaning Steve’s cut, eagerly pulling the wrapper off. She chuckled and swiped a piece of chocolate for herself, popping it into her mouth without a second thought.  

 

“Besides,” she said once she finished chewing, “it’d be selfish if I ate them by myself.”

 

She stepped towards her dining table and sat down across both of them, grabbing another wrapped candy as she waited for the water to boil. Steve continued to dab the towel to his face, until most of it was clean of grime. He folded the towel neatly on the table and grabbed the bag of peas from James, placing it to his cheek. He unwrapped another piece of chocolate and bit into it with a pleased sigh.

 

Lucy smiled triumphantly as she leaned one hand against her chin. 

 

Steve’s cheeks tinted red at the sight, a cheeky grin lighting up his face.

 

“Are you planning on ever returning?” James suddenly asked and her smile faltered as she looked up at him.

 

Her eyebrows furrowed- returning to where?- then her brain caught up with the words she’d exchanged with him on the street, and her lips formed into a small ‘o’. She hummed under her breath, tapping her fingers against her chin. She didn’t really know if she’d ever want to return and a sigh escaped her lips.

 

“I don’t know.” She said honestly. “The army’s a fast paced lifestyle.”

 

She looked down at the table, eyes tracing the wooden grains.

 

Dr. Zola had told her to disappear and exist without really living- a command which she blatantly ignored for her own self-benefit. She’d followed Peggy straight into another fight, walking right into another war just to adjust. She’d done what she’d wanted because she could, and because she still can. Her position in the army was held, steadfast, by Peggy and Colonel Phillips who found her useful like a sheep dog herding cattle. 

 

“And it might not be a life fit for me.” She said with a tilt of her head. “But I think, maybe, it’s something I might start to miss. Again.” 

 

She shrugged half-heartedly.

 

“So. . .I might come back to it.”

 

James nodded in understanding, and Steve’s brows furrowed with confusion.

 

“Why’d you join the army in the uh- in the first place? Not that that’s a bad thing I mean that’s actually very brave but-” He stammered. 

 

Lucy pressed her tongue to the bottom of her mouth, hesitating.

 

James had asked her a similar question before and she’d responded with a question rather than an answer. She hadn’t been honest but she hadn’t lied either. She joined the army for various reasons- out of spite towards Schmidt, wanting to follow Peggy, escaping HYDRA-  all which were risky to tell Steve, and not understandable without context. 

 

“-if you wanted to leave before the war ended- I mean, I just don’t see why a pretty dame-“ he continued, cheeks growing redder and redder

 

She felt James’s gaze linger on her for a moment before he turned to Steve.

 

“Apparently joining the army runs in her family.” He said, easily stopping his stammering and clasping a playful hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “Kinda like your pop's military influence on your very unhealthy obsession in joining the army.”

 

That distracted Steve and he let out a small huff, looking at James with a small glare. James raised a challenging eyebrow and Steve rolled his eyes, mumbling about his very, in fact, healthy obsession with the army, which led to James elbowing him in the side.

 

Lucy blinked several times as she observed James. If her discomfort had been obvious, she assumed Steve would’ve pulled back his question- but it hadn’t been and somehow James had caught onto the small twitch in her jaw whenever she got nervous. He was fairly good at reading people, surprising and somewhat unnerving to someone as paranoid as her. James wasn’t a threat, she reminded herself, frowning at her own thoughts. 

 

She folded her arms across each other, leaning against the table.

 

“So ‘the future’ huh?” She said, nodding at the newspaper set aside besides Steve. “Going to the Stark Expo tonight?”

 

She’d heard of the exposition from Abraham- apparently it was to be one of the most crowded places in Brooklyn, all the excitement of the world, and a perfect place to recruit new soldiers. She really couldn’t see an average American citizen walk into a carnival and decide to join the army just because of propaganda and a few posters of Uncle Sam. Then again, she could hardly see Americans do anything mildly intelligent, but that might just be the in-depth conditioning that demanded her to think Germans, especially those labeled as Aryan’s, were inherently geniuses and automatically better. 

 

James’s lips tilted upwards into a grin of excitement, eyes brightening.

 

“Well, I’ve always been a huge fan of Howard Stark- like who isn’t? He’s the most intelligent inventor in existence. Have you seen what he’s developing? At this rate we’ll land on the moon in no time!” He said, words rapid and jumpy.

 

Lucy didn’t mention how she had absolutely no idea who Howard Stark was what the fuss was all about, nor why flying to space was so exciting. But she kept her mouth shut anyway and nodded, because it seemed like the polite thing to do.

 

“And this might be one of the last times I step foot in America, so. . .if I finally get to see him, I think I’ll be set for heaven.” Thay stupid smile still clung onto his face, though his eyes dimmed slightly at his own morbid joke..

 

Steve made an indescribable sound of sadness- between a snort and a choked sob without tears- and he held the bag of peas to his eyes, covering them.

 

James’s smile faltered slightly and he pursed his lips.

 

“It was just a joke Stevie.” He said in a teasing tone.

 

Steve let out a grunt, lifted his head and simply uttered-“too realistic to be a joke”- before pressing his face into the bag of peas again. 

 

James’s playful gaze softened and, after realizing he might’ve crossed the line, mumbled a small apology, which Steve responded numbly to.

 

Lucy felt an awkward shift in the air, at least for her, and was considerably relieved when the tea kettle let out a shrieking squeal. She stood from her seat and grabbed a tall glass container with a strainer inside. She poured a few ounces of pre-grounded coffee, followed by the boiling water in the kettle. She hummed softly, vaguely aware of Steve who scolded James, then jumped into playful banter as if the somber moment had never happened.

 

From that she could tell their friendship was close.

 

She grabbed three ceramic mugs from her cupboard and poured fresh coffee in each cup, adding a tablespoon of sugar and two tablespoons of cream in one of them. She carefully balanced the three cups, placing two in front of Steve and James. After setting her own cups down she walked back to the kitchen and returned, carrying a glass of cream and sugar. She placed it in front of them and sat down.

 

“Will you be going? To the expo?” Steve asked as James spooned sugar into his coffee, blowing the scalding liquid in an attempt to cool it.

 

Lucy blinked as Steve placed the melting bag of peas onto the table. 

 

“I don’t know. I don’t have any plans for the rest of the day but. . .” She trailed off, scratching the side of her head in thought.

 

She wasn’t a fan of crowded places and tended to avoid them at all costs. But, she also knew it was fairly unhealthy to be cooped up in her apartment for days on end, waiting for another visit from Abraham. Besides, she was a bit curious about whoever this Howard Stark was, and she had enough trust in herself to know she wouldn’t have a panic attack as long as she was careful in avoiding people with cigarettes, which she was, quite frankly, a professional at that. 

 

Steve wrang his wrists in a nervous gesture, clearing his throat.

 

“I could-“ Steve’s cheeks tinted red again “- I mean, if you want- since Buck and I were planning to go anyway- and somebody-”

 

Steve’s eyes flickered to James accusingly, who only responded with a shrug.

 

“- decided we should have a double date- so maybe we could- um go- together?”

 

He managed not to ramble on, coming to a breathless stop, and Lucy’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

 

He looked expectant, as if rejection was obvious and he was really testing his luck. Her gesture seemed to mean “polite refusal” for him, and she felt a pinch of empathy trickle through her. Even if she barely knew Steve, she was very aware of his good morals and pure intentions- all described by James, of course- and she hardly thought any of it was a lie. Steve, aching and bruised from being punched, had jumped to protect her even if she could handle the fight herself. 

 

It was hard to come across people like that in Brooklyn.

 

She smiled brilliantly.

 

“Thanks for asking-” She said.

 

Steve’s lips twitched as if he wasn’t trying to frown at the “but” lingering in the air. 

 

“-what time are you planning to go?” She continued and Steve snapped his head upwards with disbelief.

 

It made her heart twist inside her chest- Steve seemed like a good friend and it was unfair women only saw what he looked like physically, not mentally or emotionally. 

 

“Wait so- you’ll- you want- to go- with me?” He sputtered like a fish out of water.

 

An amused chuckle left her lips, finding his reaction adorable.

 

“I don’t see why not.” She said. “It would be interesting to see ‘the future’ with a partner.”

 

She wasn’t sure if agreeing to a double date made it a real date and she didn’t really mind if Steve thought it as such. Getting to know somewhat new people was supposedly good for her mental health, and she’d do it to build Steve’s confidence as well- something he was lacking towards women.

 

“How does- How does six sound?” He asked and Lucy glanced at the clock on her wall.

 

That gave her an hour or so to shower, fix her hair, take a few pills just in case she needed an extra boost of energy, and find something decent to wear. She turned back to Steve and nodded with a pleasant smile, faltering unnoticeably at James’s gaze.

 

He was smiling at Steve fondly- as if to say “finally”- but a depressing aura was surrounding him, more noticeable than not. 

 

She remembered this was his last night in America, and, seeing the Stark Exposition with a date barely covered up the fact James might be walking straight to his death- at least, that’s what Lucy assumed was fueling his depressive state.

 

She smiled softly at him.

 

“Today’s not your last day here, James.” She said and he furrowed his eyebrows at the sudden topic change.

 

Steve looked giddy and content but spared some attention to the conversation. 

 

“You’re not just gonna leave Steve and I behind.” She continued. “You’ll be back. . .”

 

She waved her hand at his empty coffee cup.

 

“For another cup of coffee maybe.” She joked. 

 

James let out a soft chuckle, Steve laughed, and Lucy smiled at the friendly dynamic encircling the trio.

Chapter 18: Seventeen

"Well, there are already so many big men fighting the war. Maybe what we need now is a little guy, huh?”

Brooklyn, New York

June, 1943

LUCY’S HAIR WAS PINNED into petite curls, lining the sides of her head and flowing right beneath her shoulders. She wore a cream colored Greta blouse with a blue suit jacket clinging to her back. A navy and cobalt blue checkered skirt was pulled to her waist and the short heels to her black peep-toe shoes clicked against the ground. She tilted her red hat as her eyes flickered across the crowds of curious families and friends, looking around in awe at the inventions presented across the open streets. Fireworks exploded in the air and Lucy would’ve winced at the harsh sound if she hadn’t ever heard a gun explode at the side of her head. She knew even that wasn’t enough to burst her eardrums- they had tested that, too.

 

She let the memory slip from her mind, sucking in a soft breath as she neared a monument. She leaned against it, the stone's cold exterior seeping through her clothes and pressing against the warmth of her body. 

 

A few feet besides her was another woman, who observed her for a moment before sauntering forwards. She was at least four inches shorter than her, could’ve weighed 115 pounds- maybe even less- and clearly had no physical training. She had dark brown hair that was curled, slightly tousled from excitement, it seemed. Her eyes were hazel, sharp and darting across the exposition. She tilted her lips into a shark-like grin and Lucy knew from the confidence in her shoulders that she was cocky and possibly narcissistic.

 

Lucy decided she would be easy to incapacitate and concluded she was, in fact, harmless. She inwardly scowled at the fleeting thought, swatting it away as the woman stopped in front of her.

 

Lucy managed not to cringe as the woman stuck a hand out towards her.

 

“My name’s Connie.” She said with a tilt of her head, voice raised as she spoke over the crowds of people.

 

Lucy could hear her just fine- in fact the woman was a little too loud- and she plastered a dazzling smile on her face, eyes twinkling as if she was genuinely happy to see her.

 

She wasn’t.

 

“Lucy.” She greeted shortly with a polite tone.

 

She hoped the woman- Connie- would realize she didn’t want to converse. Lucy inspected her gaze and didn’t look mildly annoyed when Connie’s face glowed brightly and her mouth opened again.

 

“Oh well,” she adjusted the purse pulled over her shoulder, “are you waiting on a date? Because I am. The Stark Exposition is the best place for a date. At least, I think it is. They have swing clubs literally in the Exposition- bars and all that. Who doesn’t like a little bit of booze, am I right?”

 

Lucy raised an inquisitive eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, the universal gesture of defensiveness, then squared her shoulders. She wasn’t offended by the question- questions- but god if this girl kept talking Lucy would have to be very impolite in shooing her away. 

 

“Right.” She said before answering her previous question. “I’m waiting. On a friend.” 

 

She’d only met Steve once but she’d known of him for more than a few months and he did seem interested in being her friend- and maybe more if love existed in her dictionary, which it didn’t- so yes, Steve could qualify as a friend.

 

“And a date.” She finished.

 

She was back to short sentences, marginally uncomfortable by the over-excited and bubbling woman in front of her. Her eyes flickered to the strap of Connie’s purse, her wandering mind noting several ways she could leave this girl unconscious or dead, starting first, by buckling her knees and slamming her into the stone, then- she snapped her head to the side, getting rid of the brutal thoughts. 

 

She inhaled silently, looking back at Connie to see if she’d seen the action- maybe the woman would think she was crazy and leave her alone.

 

But Connie wasn’t looking at her, distracted by the huge globe spinning at the center of all the expositions. Unfortunately, her mouth still moved, regardless of where she stared.

 

“That’s awkward. You're dragging a third wheel on your date?” She said bluntly, not polite but not rude either- judgmental, that was it.

 

Lucy’s face started to hurt by the strained tilt of her lips and she cocked her head to the side, passive aggressively eyeing Connie as she swiveled her head around to look up at her. The brunette was oblivious as she smiled brightly at her.

 

“No.” Lucy said. “My friend is my date.” 

 

She watched as Connie pursed her lips, eyebrows raised at her answer. 

 

“I don’t think that’s how friendships work.” She said.

 

She wanted to be honest and say she was fairly new to friendships- and dates- and preferably tell her to mind her own business, but a familiar voice stopped the conversation short. Lucy felt relief flood her veins as Connie spun on her heel with recognition flashing in her eyes. Lucy’s stomach dropped at the coincidental meeting she seemingly had with-

 

“Hey Bucky!” Connie waved.

 

-James’s date.

 

She resisted the urge to grunt with annoyance- she should be grateful, really, that she had the freedom to be and look annoyed in the first place- at least that’s what she told herself as her expression smoothed over, remaining content and docile. 

 

Steve wore a suit jacket similar to what he’d been wearing earlier in the day. His hair was slightly gelled and pulled cleanly to one side, eyes bright and as confident as he could be. He walked with shoulders back, not slumped, and Lucy would’ve fallen for the act if she hadn’t seen him before. James was unsurprisingly wearing his sergeant uniform and striding forwards with a flirtatious smirk playing at his lips.

 

“Good afternoon, Steve, James.” she said nodding towards them.

 

Connie looked up at her in surprise, before turning her attention solely on James, barely shooting Steve a glance. She looked like she’d won a lottery and Lucy slowly realized she thought she’d pulled the bigger fish- James was more attractive to the everyday woman. And Steve was apparently not. Lucy was more interested in the inner qualities of a person, not their physical attributes so she sent Connie a sharp side-glance that was barely discreet, before smiling at Steve.

 

“I see you’ve met each other already.” James said, waving his hand between both women.

 

Lucy nodded as Connie hooked her arm around James’s, leaning into him while practically jumping on her feet. She glanced at Steve who stepped awkwardly to the side in order to make room for her- in any social interaction, Connie was just being unnecessarily rude. She pulled James down the street and into the pavilion of the exposition, leaving Steve and Lucy in the wind. 

 

Lucy turned on her heel and looked at Steve who didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. If he was trying to be adorable, he was doing a phenomenal job. She stepped forwards and grabbed his hand, rather than hooking her arm around him- the height difference would only make it awkward, and cause Steve to feel inferior. That, at the moment, was the last thing she wanted.

 

Besides, holding hands wasn’t an intimate gesture- at least that’s what she thought.

 

Steve blinked in surprise and might’ve let out a squeak- she wasn’t overly sure.

 

“Hey- uh- you look-“ he stumbled over his words.

 

Lucy smiled softly.

 

“Thanks, Steve. You don’t look too bad yourself.” She said, pointing to his cheek. “Bruise is almost gone.”

 

Her tone was playful, and Steve’s cheeks tinted red at the motion, touching his cheekbone as he felt for the bruise. They stood there for a few seconds before Lucy tugged him forwards gently.

 

“Come on.” She said as he walked besides her. “We’ll lose James and. . .Connie.”

 

She managed not to say the brunette’s name with too much distaste and Steve thankfully didn’t catch onto the slight venom in her voice. They followed behind James who looked down at Connie with a laugh and a smile, like he was having the time of his life. It was a playful look and nothing serious she had seen before.

 

Steve slowed in his footsteps as his head slowly turned back to one of the food stands they passed. Lucy, observant, slowed down to a stop.

 

“What is it?” She asked, and Steve cleared his throat.

 

He looked up at her with a nervous gaze.

 

“Peanuts?” He suggested.

 

Lucy looked back at the stand then shrugged.

 

“Lead the way, Steve.” She said.

 

Steve smiled with a bit of relief, and his tense shoulders loosened as he walked towards the enticing smell of roasted salted peanuts. She followed besides him, and was glad to see he seemed more and more relaxed with every step he took. She untangled her hand with Steve’s as he stepped forwards and paid for a bag of peanuts. Once he had them he turned back towards her and Lucy simply plucked a peanut from the bag, biting on it with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

 

Steve looked mildly offended as a small pout formed on his lips but he didn’t object as she grabbed a daring handful of peanuts next. He rolled his eyes playfully and she chuckled as they turned back towards the pavilion and rushed hurriedly to catch up with James and Connie.

 

They entered the pavilion, an announcer's voice seeping through the speakers.

 

“Welcome to the Modern Marvel’s Pavilion, and the World of Tomorrow. A greater world. A better world.”

 

Lucy found them in the crowd with surprising ease- Connie had no business being as loud as she was- and James glanced back at them as Lucy tossed a peanut in the air, attempting to catch it with her mouth. She caught his gaze and he let out a bubble of laughter when the peanut hit her in the face. She let the poor peanut hit the ground, knowing a levitating peanut was the most suspicious thing that could possibly happen, and shot James a glare. He grinned at her before turning back to Connie who huffed at the interaction.

 

Crowds of people started migrating towards a showcase platform and Lucy heard the awed gasps of “Howard Stark” leaving their lips. Connie jumped and gasped, pointing towards a stage with a striking red car, which was lit up brightly.

 

“Oh my god! It’s starting!” She gushed with a giggle, grabbing James’s hand and dragging him forwards.

 

James stumbled forwards with a small chuckle and followed after Connie quickly. 

 

Lucy glanced at Steve who snacked on another peanut, before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the showcase platform. They pushed past the crowd, standing behind James and Connie who looked up with awe. James’s gaze trailed over the car with fascination and Lucy found the gesture admirable- cars were indeed eye catching, especially when they weren’t yellow and taxis.

 

She reached over to steal another peanut from Steve and he pulled the bag away. She put a hand over her heart, jokingly offended. Steve smiled, before kindly handing her one single piece. She raised an eyebrow and he stared at her challengingly. She made a grab at the bag and Steve quickly pulled it lower to his side. He popped the peanut he’d offered in his mouth and Lucy opened her mouth to protest when a female announcer disrupted their current peanut war.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Howard Stark!”

 

Lucy turned back to look at the stage, five women circling the car. They each gestured towards a stage entrance, where a man stepped forwards. He wore a dashing black suit with a red bow tie and a top hat matching the rest of his entourage. He held his arms out, wiggling his fingers in greeting as he smirked towards the crowd. The crowd erupted with applause, and Lucy half-heartedly clapped along with them. She watched as one of the women stepped forwards with a mic in hand, smiling brilliantly whilst Howard took off his hat. Lucy was vaguely disgusted as the woman took the hat and kissed Howard on the lips. 

 

“I love you Howard!” Another woman shouted to the left of her, and Lucy didn’t gag.

 

Howard grabbed the mic from his assistant, turning to the crowd confidently while wiping his lips with a handkerchief. He stepped forwards, eyes flickering from person to person. Lucy crossed her arms over her chest as his gaze lingered on her for a second longer than she found necessary. 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, what if I told you that in a few short years, your automobile won’t even have to touch the ground at all?” He announced with a grin.

 

The people around her gasped in disbelief, and Lucy watched curiously as Howard’s helpers took off the wheels of his car. 

 

“Yes, thanks Mandy.” He said to the woman on his right.

 

Steve ate another peanut and Lucy took one as well.

 

“With Stark Gravitic Reversion Technology, you’ll be able to do just that.” He said, stepping over towards a metal control system.

 

He turned a few dials then pulled a lever. For a moment nothing happened, and Lucy was vaguely unsatisfied, then the car’s tire slots started to glow a warm sunny hue and the car lifted a foot off the ground. 

 

“Holy cow.” James breathed.

 

He glanced back at her with an impressed look, and Lucy smiled with a small nod, as if she was just as awed as him- a part of her wondered how amazed he’d be if she ever caused something to float. She blinked, activating her abilities and eyeing the molecules surrounding the car. It wasn’t gravitic reversion, but it was definitely an energy source that was going to blow it’s fuse in a matter of-

 

With an electric crackle the car hit the stage with a crash. Lucy winced at the explosion of molecules and turned her abilities off. Several people let out gasps of surprise and concern, nervous smiles mixed with curious eyes.

 

“I did say in a few years, didn’t I?” Howard winked, and the crowd exploded with applause.

 

Lucy felt Steve shift besides her and she turned her head to face him. 

 

He was staring at a poster of Uncle Sam pointing a finger quite aggressively at the strangers passing by. She observed him as he bit the inside of his lips, frowning deeply as he furrowed his eyebrows. It was obvious he wanted to take a closer look, or find the building where they were enlisting soldiers. Lucy didn’t look away when he turned to glance up at her. His cheeks tinted red- maybe out of guilt for wanting to leave his date- and he opened his mouth to explain. She shook her head, instead pushing through the crowd behind him. Steve looked distraught, and hurriedly followed after her. She was confused by his expression until she realized he thought she was upset- it made her want to laugh. 

 

They continued walking, and Steve remained silent, fiddling with his fingers and his empty bag of peanuts. Lucy stopped once they managed to escape the Stark fans crowding the showcase platform. Her heart pinched with a hint of guilt, vaguely aware of leaving James alone with Connie, even if he seemed fond of her. 

 

She swiveled around on her heel, looking down at Steve with her hands on her hips. Steve seemed to shrink in his place, and Lucy couldn’t help it- she laughed.

 

Steve furrowed his eyebrows and Lucy grasped his shoulder gently- fondly.

 

“Steve, I’m not mad at you for staring at an enlistment poster.” She said with an amused smile. “It’s there to be looked at.”

 

Steve melted with relief, shoulders slumping as he relaxed. He fixed his hair, which was slightly tousled.

 

“Oh.” He breathed.

 

She tilted her head, inspecting him a second time. He wanted to enlist- again- she noted. She could tell him off, and firmly drag him back to James, but, she wasn’t his mother and she most definitely wasn’t in charge of his existence. If he wanted to do something, he could. 

 

“We should um. . .probably go back.” Steve said, shuffling on his feet.

 

Lucy sighed and grabbed his hand.

 

“I didn’t drag you out of the crowd for no reason.” She said with a soft smile.

 

Steve raised a curious eyebrow and she tugged him forwards, pulling him towards the wide enlistment building. He stumbled after her and blinked in surprise when they stopped at the open entrance, couples travelling back and forth.

 

She let go of his hand and stepped forwards, expecting Steve to follow, but he stood frozen, paused. He looked at her, then the entrance, then her again, before staring dumbfoundedly.

 

“Come on,” she smiled, stepping past the doorway,“let’s check it out.”

 

Steve’s surprised expression morphed into respect as he walked besides her. They entered a hall where enlisters and couples strode back and forth with curiosity and awe.

 

“Do you think I have a chance?” Steve asked.

 

Lucy hummed as they walked over towards a small metal platform, where a life-sized picture of several soldiers were. She stepped up to it, a light flickering on. She stared at the image of her face projected on the soldier’s body, and Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. It was an image that was borderline-triggering, only, she was used to wearing pitch-black uniforms made solely by the scientists who reinforced them because clearly, she was too valuable to lose.

 

“Do you want me to be honest?” She asked, and Steve nodded.

 

Lucy turned back to him, stepping off the metal platform.

 

“You’re brave and courageous for wanting to enlist, Steve, really,” she said, “and it’s not that I don’t believe in you. I do, actually. From a moral standpoint you might be one of the best men I know. But. . .”

 

She watched as Steve stepped onto the platform, the top of his forehead barely reflecting on the soldier’s body.

 

“. . .out there,” she shook her head, “I’m afraid you might not- it’s dangerous, Steve.”

 

She cut the thought of Steve dying short and a disappointed sigh escaped his lips.

 

“I know it’s dangerous.” He said, pursing his lips. “But to not fight when everybody else is. . .it’s selfish, don’t ya think?”

 

Lucy wanted to point out it wasn’t selfish because she wasn’t fighting when she had an incredibly powerful ability lurking beneath the surface of her fingertips, just because she wanted to keep her mental health in check. Then, she quite quickly realized that it was, in some way, selfish, and she decided not to think of it- she wasn’t able to be selfish for more than a year and she sure as hell barely knew what her “self” even was. She deserved to be selfish for a little while.

 

She bit the inside of her lip.

 

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “It depends on someone’s circumstances for them to be selfish.”

 

Steve “hmm”-ed in response and Lucy wondered if she could’ve been a bit more decisive. She looked down, closing her eyes for a moment and gnawing on the inside of her cheek. Steve turned to respond but someone grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him off the metal platform and back onto the ground. 

 

Lucy blinked and looked up to see James with a thin-lipped smile on his face.

 

“Come on, you're kinda missing the point of a double date.” James glanced back at Lucy before turning to stare at Steve. “We’re takin’ the girls dancin’.”

 

Steve breathed deeply as he stood in front of him. 

 

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you.” He said 

 

James’s smile faded instantly and he squared his shoulders, shaking his head.

 

“You’re really gonna do this again?” He said firmly.

 

Steve shrugged.

 

“Well it’s a fair, I’m gonna try my luck.” He said.

 

James’s lips tilted into a scowl.

 

“As who? Steve, from Ohio? They’ll catch you, or worse, they’ll actually take you.” He almost glowered.

 

Steve huffed and shoved his hands into his pockets.

 

“Look, I know you don’t think I can do this-“

 

Lucy remained silent as she shuffled to the side, suddenly interested in the glowing ceiling lights and another large poster of Uncle Sam, framed on the wall. She frowned at the cartoon eyes staring at her blankly as she unwillingly listened to the two best-friends bicker.

 

“This isn’t a back alley Steve, it’s war.” James emphasized.

 

Steve cleared his throat, lifting his chin stubbornly.

 

“I know it’s a war.” He responded feebly.

 

Lucy’s eyes flickered over towards the people passing by, eyebrows furrowing at a familiar figure standing a few feet away. His round-rimmed glasses reflected the light and his suit jacket was just as pristine as ever. She moved to greet him but the man seemed engrossed in Steve and James’s conversation- who knew Abraham was an eavesdropper.

 

She decided not to, shuffling on her feet in an attempt to occupy herself.

 

“Why are you so keen to fight?” James practically exploded, voice straining as he kept it as level as possible. “There are so many important jobs!”

 

Steve scoffed, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

 

“What do you want me to do? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?” He snapped sarcastically.

 

James nodded enthusiastically and Lucy ran a hand over her face.

 

“Yes! Why not?” He cried.

 

Steve stepped forwards, mouth dropping open.

 

“I’m not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky. Bucky, come on. There are men laying down their lives.” He insisted. “I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.”

 

Lucy had a nagging feeling it actually was about Steve. Their were too many reasons why Steve of all people would want to join the army, and that was nothing to be ashamed of, but Steve, well, he might think otherwise.

 

James scoffed.

 

“Right, cause you got nothin’ to prove.” He said dryly.

 

Steve opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. 

 

Lucy cleared her throat to announce her lingering presence and the pair seemed to get a hold of themselves. James let out a loose sigh, and Steve looked away.

 

“Hey Sarge are we dancing?” Connie’s voice travelled through the enlistment center.

 

Lucy cringed as James spun on his heel, grinning from ear to ear with a flirtatious glimmer in his eyes.

 

“Yes we are.” He said, jovially.

 

He turned back to Steve.

 

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” He said firmly as he slowly took a step backwards.

 

Lucy watched as Steve leaned back slightly, sorrowful eyes flickering over James’s figure.

 

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” He said.

 

James shook his head before walking forwards again. He wrapped his arms around Steve in a warm hug, and Lucy looked away.

 

“You're a punk.” James muttered.

 

“Jerk.” Steve replied fondly. “Take care.”

 

James stepped back and smiled, before turning to Lucy.

 

“Do you want to-?” He waved his hand towards a patiently waiting Connie.

 

Lucy mulled the thought over, eyes flickering towards Abraham who finally noticed her presence. His eyes were bright, and his lips curled into a beaming smile. 

 

She’d told him the Stark exposition was a place she’d never venture towards- the crowds, the couples, the unbearable amount of tobacco smoke traveling throughout the air. And Abraham had pushed her to go, to experience something new, and it hindered her thoughts but she hadn’t changed her answer. He was probably surprised to see her, but otherwise glad.

 

She looked back at James and shook her head.

 

“I’ll see how Steve’s enlistment goes,” she paused, “but where will you be? Later?”

 

James pointed towards another pavilion, where the sound of swing music could barely be heard. 

 

“Alright then, I’ll see you in a few, Sergeant Barnes.” She said with a small salute.

 

James chuckled before turning around and walking away.

 

“Don’t win the war till I get there!” Steve called.

 

James turned back and saluted both of them, before jogging away towards Connie.

 

Lucy sighed softly at his retreating figure as Steve cleared his throat. She looked back at him and smiled.

 

“I’ll wait here.” She said, waving her hand towards the pictures hung on the hall. “Look around a bit.”

 

Steve nodded and fixed his suit jacket.

 

“I’ll be out in a jiffy.” He said before hurriedly disappearing around the corner.

 

Lucy watched Abraham as he followed Steve with his gaze. She stepped over to him in complete silence and tapped his shoulder. He jumped comically, putting a heart over his chest as surprise riddled his body.

 

“Lucy, goodness,” he said, waving his hand towards her feet, “your feet can make footsteps, you know.” 

 

He looked up at her with a small smile and a mischievous chuckle escaped her lips as she rubbed the back of her neck.

 

“I didn’t know you were much of an eavesdropper, Abraham.” She said in a teasing tone.

 

Abraham adjusted his glasses, a small huff escaping his lips.

 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping.” He said unconvincingly and Lucy blinked.

 

He cleared his throat.

 

“I was only interested because he seemed like a good man.” He continued.

 

Lucy leaned back slightly, pushing her hands in her pockets.

 

“He is.” She said. “He’s enlisted more than once before. You should give him a chance.”

 

Abraham tilted his head before letting out a small laugh. Lucy regarded him with confusion and he smiled up at her.

 

“I was going to offer him a chance anyway.” He said and Lucy’s lips formed into an ‘o’.

 

They stood in silence before she spoke up again.

 

“We should probably get going before someone else decides to check up on him.” She said and Abraham nodded.

 

He stepped down the hall and Lucy followed behind him. They passed an annoying amount of framed war pictures as they walked towards the enlisting area. Lucy caught a glimpse of Steve’s short stature as he disappeared behind a check-up curtain. She slowed in her footsteps and gently grasped Abraham’s arm. 

 

He paused and looked up at her, happy expression morphing into that of worry.

 

“He’ll die, you know.” She said bluntly. “Out there. He’ll die like a shield to his comrades, and- if they take him- he’ll die an experiment. German experiments are cruel. You are familiar with that, Abraham.”

 

Her eyes glinted dangerously and her grip on his arm tightened. Abraham’s gaze softened and he gently placed his hand on top of hers. She shifted her gaze to look at him as he pried her fingers off his forearm.

 

“Yes, I am.” He said softly. “It’s why he’ll be the first Super Soldier to walk the frontlines, Lucy.” 

 

She tilted her head to the side. 

 

She’d heard of that- she remembered- Super-Soldaten serum. 

 

“You know if you're worried, you can always stop by Camp Lehigh. It’s where he’ll go for basic training.” He said.

 

Lucy bit the inside of her lip.

 

“I just met him yesterday, Abraham.” She sighed. “If anything I should be following James to make sure he doesn’t-“

 

She snapped her fingers, referring to the fact he could in fact, be snapped out of existence by the bullet of a gun.

 

Abraham nodded in understanding.

 

“You can always join the army again.” He repeated.

 

She smiled.

 

“Mm, maybe.”

Chapter 19: Eighteen

"Trust is like blood pressure. It’s silent and vital to good health. If abused, it can be deadly.”

Brooklyn, New York

June, 1943

LUCY HAD BID FAREWELL to Abraham, and Steve, who’d glowed like the stars when he waved his enlistment card in the air. It had been ridiculously heart-warming to see him with that huge grin on his face, dopey blue eyes innocently shimmering in the night. He’d apologized for ruining the date and she’d assured him he hadn’t done anything wrong. She mentioned he might want to stay and spend more time with James, but he insisted studying books about basic training was more important than that- Lucy couldn’t disagree. Besides, they’d said their goodbyes, and that must’ve been enough, at least, she hoped it was.

 

She hummed softly under her breath as she slid her hand over the door handle- a long slab of roughly painted wood- and gave it a gentle push. The hinges were loose as it swung open effortlessly. Her eyes flickered to the ceiling where soft lights glowed, the scent of alcohol overwhelming any lingering smell of cigarettes- wait, no, she sniffed, the smell was there. She turned her abilities on with ease, eyeing the molecules and turning them into oxygen. She breathed deeply- panic attacks weren’t fun to experience, especially in public.

 

The sound of laughter and jazz music reached her ears, mind lulled by the hypnotic notes. She traipsed towards the bar at a sluggish pace, calculating eyes sorting threats and witnesses apart. Her eyes tracked the dancers as they tapped their feet against the vinyl and lost themselves in the gaze of their dates. Her lips twitched upwards at the sight, and she continued to scan the crowd, until she found James’s familiar hat, which was slightly tilted. 

 

He was remarkably swift for a man as broad as him. A joyous grin lit up his face as he swung Connie over his side, caught her swiftly, then threw her into the air. Lucy watched Connie explode with laughter as she landed on the ground and grabbed his hand, spinning in front of him. 

 

Lucy neared the dance floor, the tips of her feet pressing against it. She waved enthusiastically at James as he swiftly flipped Connie over his head. He squinted at Lucy and his eyes glimmered with excitement as he twirled Connie while keeping his gaze on her. Lucy chuckled as he winked, shaking her head at his antics. He turned back to Connie and leaned towards her ear. Over the fast paced music she could hear nothing of his conversation. After a moment Connie nodded with a dejected smile and moved to dance with another man. 

 

Lucy tilted her head as James dodged other dancers and made his way towards her. His cheeks were flushed from the aerobic exercise and he adjusted his hat as he stopped in front of her.

 

“How’d it go with Steve?!” He yelled over the music.

 

Lucy smiled mysteriously.

 

“You’ll have to ask him yourself the next time you see him!” She replied loudly and James pursed his lips.

 

His eyes travelled over her face, as if he was trying to read her. He gave up in a few seconds and she tilted her head with confusion when he held his hand out. He nodded encouragingly and Lucy’s eyes widened at his implication. She swallowed thickly, a nervous tremor travelling through her body.

 

“Oh no,” she said with a small chuckle, “I wasn’t going to dance.”

 

James raised a challenging eyebrow and she breathed deeply.

 

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” He insisted.

 

Lucy had learned to associate dancing with combat, which would ultimately lead to her partner’s incapacitation. It was a useful skill that taught her flexibility as well as espionage, but it took away the fun in dancing. And, the last time she had danced it was with Dr. Schaffer- she had never feared misstepping more than anything in her life.

 

This was James, a voice in the back of her mind whispered, and swing dancing, not ballet, so she shouldn’t really mind-

 

Her lips pressed into a thin line and James’s excited gaze flickered.

 

“Trust me.” He said softly with so much meaning she wanted to believe him.

 

She knew there would always be something that would trigger her- it’s why she could never be in public for long- but Peggy had told her to fight it and create new memories so she could replace traumatic ones. She raised a shaky hand, placing it carefully in James’s palm. His hand was incredibly warm, calloused and soft. He tugged her forwards with care and she stumbled onto the dance floor. She gnawed the inside of her lip, unsure of what to do with her feet as James pulled back, outstretched his arm, then pulled her into his chest. She twirled and struggled to resist the urge of engaging in combat.

 

“You are made of marble.”

 

She breathed in sharply and the memory burst from the back of her mind. The room transformed and her breath hitched in her throat as she stood in an empty Auschwitz bunker, used for soldiers, sergeants and colonel’s, who slept there. She stood on her toes and spun as Dr. Schaffer carefully held her waist. 

 

“Be perfect.”

 

Her eyes flickered to his face as he grinned, a prideful look lighting up his face. 

 

She slowed in her turn, her lips twitching in a smile that felt foreign. He caught her gaze and she stiffened, hurriedly dropping her eyes to his chest. Her expression smoothed out and Dr. Schaffer chuckled as he let loose a soft breath of tobacco smoke.

 

“Lucy!”

 

She blinked and suddenly he was gone, along with the dull grayness of the bunker.

 

She examined the couple besides her as they danced- right, she was dancing, wasn’t she?- and her feet instantly moved to copy the woman’s movements. James blinked in surprise when she shuffled forwards and back, hand grasping onto him gently. She skidded her feet to the side, and dropped as James moved to catch her with ease. 

 

He held her for a moment and looked down with calculated concern. Had he noticed the development of her thousand-yard stare? 

 

“What’s your favorite color?” He suddenly asked.

 

She flinched and her eyes flickered upwards to meet his gaze

 

“W-What?” She replied, confused by the random question.

 

James gently grasped her waist and threw her into the air. She gasped in surprise and spun, landing silently on her feet. James grabbed her hands again and she cleared her throat.

 

“Blue!” She finally said as he threw her over her shoulder.

 

He tucked his arm beneath hers as they shuffled forwards, kicking a leg to the side. Lucy smiled with amusement, a breathy chuckle escaping her lips as James beamed at her.

 

“Good choice!” He laughed.

 

She cleared her throat, following James’s footwork.

 

“What about you?!” She asked.

 

His eyes twinkled and she let out a small surprised ‘oof’ as he brought her close to his chest. He leaned over her, and smirked.

 

“I’d say. . .a type of blue that matches your eyes.” He said with a flirty wink.

 

He spun her around and she gasped in surprise as he pulled her over her head.

 

“James!” She scolded in a joking tone.

 

He laughed and she smiled fondly at him. They continued to dance and she found herself genuinely enjoying it. The environment was reminiscent of her family's parties, which had been thrown one a year- a reunion of sorts. The memory had been buried but it was still there, and she had to remind herself she had a life before HYDRA, that they hadn’t created her, and she could have a life now.

 

The music slowed as the musicians took a short break, and James inched off the dance floor with Lucy in hand. She sighed softly as she adjusted her hat and walked towards the bar. She felt James follow and she turned with a confused look.

 

“Where’s Connie?” She asked and James threw his thumb over his shoulder.

 

She peered behind him to see Connie talking with another man, eyes glued onto him as they danced slow. She looked back at James with a regretful look on his face but he seemed marginally unbothered. 

 

James turned and walked towards the bar with his hands in his pockets. Lucy followed and took a seat next to him, leaning her arms against the bar table.

 

“You okay?” She asked and he turned with a raised eyebrow.

 

He looked back at Connie and her new partner, then shrugged.

 

“Eh,” he waved his hand, as if swatting the subject away, “i’s my fault anyway. Jus’ left her so. . .”

 

He trailed off and turned to the bartender, clearing his throat.

 

Lucy’s lips tilted into a frown but she didn’t disagree with his sentence as he ordered two pint glass servings of beer. The bartender nodded at James attentively and she gazed at him for a split-second, subconsciously sizing him up without meaning to. 

 

His caramel-auburn eyes were gentle and his lips were curled in a flirtatious smile. He ran a hand through his black locks of hair, fixing the tie to his suit. His eyes flickered to her and she winked before grabbing a glass and pouring the ordered drinks. She decided he wasn’t a threat, but could cause damage if he really wanted to.

 

Her eyes scanned the reflective bottles lining the back wall- Old Time Christmas Old Crow whiskey, Glenmore Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey, Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, Schlitz beer- and she shut her eyes, activating her mind on command. When she opened them she could see their carbonyl compounds, carboxylic acids, nitrogen and other polyphenolic compounds. She scrunched her nose in disgust as she watched the molecules mingle with each other, blending at an overwhelming pace. 

 

“You uh- are you okay?” James asked suddenly, and she tilted her head.

 

She blinked.

 

“Why would you think I’m not?” She questioned with genuine curiosity.

 

His tongue darted over his lips as his eyes flickered hesitantly across her face. He seemed anxious to clarify but he mustered up the courage to do so anyway.

 

“I mean, when we were dancin’.” He said slowly. “Your eyes they- well, I kinda- I think I kinda lost you for a bit.”

 

Lucy stiffened and absentmindedly clenched her jaw, eyes dropping to the table once again. She opened her mouth, then shut it, hands clasping onto the sides of her arms. She felt the bartenders gaze linger on them as he brought the requested drinks in front of them. She grasped the handle of the glass, muttering a quiet thank you as the bartender smiled and shuffled away.

 

She vaguely wondered if alcohol even affected her anymore- what, with all the poison traveling through her veins.

 

“‘m sorry.” James mumbled as he looked down at his glass of beer. “Tha’s none of my bu’iness, Lu. I shoulda said nothin’.”

 

She watched as he clenched the glass handle of his cup and brought it to his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed several times as he downed the liquid to the very last drop. He placed the glass on the table and Lucy observed him closely. The ceiling light highlighted the exhausted features he tried so hard to hide. He looked downright awful, like he was mourning rather than celebrating. 

 

Lucy understood that- his own death could be waiting right around the corner.

 

He called the bartender for a refill, and Lucy watched with a grimace as he downed the glass like he’d done the last.

 

“I used to love dancing.” She said quietly.

 

James looked at her with surprise, but remained silent. 

 

“My Oma- grandmother- she taught me how to dance.” She swirled the intoxicating liquid, the delicate vortex at the center of her glass silently in turmoil. “She would’ve loved to see me dancing with someone other than her.”

 

She vividly remembered countless hours of swing dancing in the living room of her grandma and grandpa’s tiny apartment, listening to German music and jazz. She missed her grandma- she’d cried a waterfall of tears- but she hardly had time to think of her now. Memories of her grandma led to memories of her father, who was dead, cremated, and without a grave, which further reminded her of the fact she missed the man who’d murdered her father in some twisted way and-

 

“She pass?” 

 

Lucy snapped her gaze to James’s.

 

“Yes.” She said after a moment.

 

James’s expression dropped and he looked terribly guilty, ocean eyes dimming.

 

“I. . .shouldn’ta forced ya to dance.” He said in an apologetic tone. 

 

Lucy chuckled and he tilted his head at her reaction.

 

“No, no, I don’t dislike dancing because my Oma died. She’d climb out of her grave just to make sure my feet kept moving.” She said.

 

She tilted her glass of beer to her lips, drinking more than half as James watched her. It rushed onto her taste buds harshly and she was thoroughly surprised by the battalion of sweet and bitter flavors clashing inside her mouth. It tasted like nothing she’d remembered, not that she could vividly remember- well- she blinked, she could, actually, remember the first time she’d taken a sip of beer at the age of five when her father wasn’t looking and spat it in the sink.

 

Her heart throbbed.

 

When had her memory gotten so clear?

 

“Then. . .if you don’t mind me asking. . .” James trailed off and she escaped her thoughts as she was pulled back to reality.

 

She pressed her lips into a thin line. As always, she didn’t want to lie.

 

“There was. . .another man.” She sighed. “Before. When I was in Germany.” 

 

She wrapped her arms around her torso, feeling phantom hands keeping her steady on her feet- those same hands that broke her jaw and fractured her wrist because she’d been dancing for hours and her ankle buckled. She could feel his disappointed stare burning holes into her skull as she struggled to stand and continue dancing again.

 

Her heart stuttered in her chest and she downed the rest of her beer, as if it’d wash the memory away.

 

“Oh.” James said with surprise.

 

He turned to the bartender and asked for a refill on both glasses. The bartender took them as he poured another customer whiskey. Lucy waited patiently as their glasses returned to them, filled to the rim once again. 

 

He looked back at Lucy, furrowed brows attempting to understand her explanation.

 

“Is he- I mean is that- dancin’- was it your thing with him or somethin’?” He asked, taking another long draft of his beer. 

 

Thinking of Dr. Schaffer in a romantic way made her want to throw up. She shook her head fiercely.

 

“No, no, he was- well he was a lot of things but he was my ballet instructor at one point.” She said.

 

James looked even more curious, and Lucy realized he’d keep questioning her unless she created boundaries. She wasn’t sure if it was the beer making him tipsy, or if he’d momentarily forgotten his careful mannerism. 

 

It could be both, depending on how well he handled alcohol.

 

“It’s a long story.” She said monotonously, the warmth in her voice completely gone.

 

James leaned back.

 

“Ah.” 

 

She brought the beer to her lips and drew a long sip. She held the cool glass in between her hands as comforting jazz filled the air. She pulled her hat off and placed it in her lap as she ran a hand through her carefully curled hair. Dr. Schaffer would be displeased by the length and it’s style.

 

She inwardly scoffed.

 

He’d be disappointed with the fact she was sitting on a stool, and not the floor. She gulped her beer like water, eyes narrowing with heated rage- why did she care about what he thought anyway? 

 

James looked down at his beer, completely engrossed by whatever thoughts he had.

 

“Could you. . .do me a favor?” 

 

She blinked the anger from her eyes and looked at him with a nod.

 

“Depends on what it is.” She said.

 

He chuckled and shifted his gaze to look at her. His smile dropped, flattening into a thin line as his expression grew serious.

 

“Keep an eye on Steve.” He said firmly.

 

Lucy leaned her head against her chin, eyes inspecting him. 

 

She didn’t really know how to say, oh, by the way, your best friend tried to enlist again, and he got accepted, but my good friend Abraham is going to turn him into a Super-Soldier, so he’ll be okay, but it’s an experiment so he can potentially die- oh, but don’t worry, I trust Abraham.

 

She had a feeling James might sock her in the face if she told him that. It wasn’t her choice so, really, Steve should be the one to tell him. Then James could sock Steve in the face and not her. That seemed fair.

 

James managed to drain the rest of his beer as he waited for an answer. He asked for another refill and Lucy wasn’t sure if she should be concerned by his excessive drinking.

 

“He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?” She asked softly.

 

James managed to smile.

 

“He’s my brother.” He said.

 

Lucy tilted her head.

 

“Mm. . .and if he asks the same of me? To keep an eye on you.” She questioned.

 

Of course, that was a ridiculous thought- Steve wouldn’t have the heart to ask- but she needed the reassurance that his request was not, in fact, a mission.

 

“You’d havta come back to the army then, don’t ya?” He joked half-heartedly.

 

Lucy shrugged and gave him the same answer she’d given Abraham.

 

“Maybe.”

 

In truth, there really wasn’t a maybe, because she wasn’t going to join the army again. If she knew anything about Dr. Zola, it was the fact he was almost always right. So, as begrudgingly as possible, she was going to listen to his advice of staying away- from the war, from combat, from fighting. That, or she’d be exposed not just to HYDRA, but any other government organization who wanted a weapon that could be almost indestructible.

 

James sighed and brought his glass of beer to his lips. Lucy opened her mouth, then shut it- she had no business telling James what and what not to do.

 

“Guess it’s up to ya, then. But until he asks. Please.” He looked at her with pleading eyes, and Lucy bit the inside of her lip.

 

She nodded.

 

“I’ll do my best, Sergeant.” She said and James breathed a relieved sigh.

 

“Thank you.” He said, before tilting his head. “Ya think I’ll have a chance out there? Fightin’,”

 

Lucy hummed.

 

“I do. You’re a damn good sharp shooter. If anything, you’ve got a better chance out there then your comrades.” She paused. “Don’t let that get to your head though. You have to have an eye for bullets that aren’t yours.”

 

James yawned as he hurriedly drank his beer, blinking slowly as if he was keeping himself awake. Goodness, the man really didn’t have much tolerance for alcohol. He teetered back and forth on his stool, cheeks tinting red. 

 

Lucy activated her abilities and kept him steady as her hand inched towards his cup of beer- he called for another refill before she could take it from him. 

 

“I think I’mma ‘fraid. I ain’t ever got shot before.” James admitted, sounding almost ashamed and childish.

 

Lucy was relieved he wasn’t acting out violently as he grew intoxicated. He was calm and docile- that was something she could work with.

 

“Lasting pain differs depending on where you’re shot.” She said with deadly honesty. 

 

She thought back to the first time a bullet had passed through her arm- one of her first escape plans that happened the first week she’d arrived in Bavaria.

 

“But the pain is the same at first-“ she remembered, “-the moment of impact is sharp like stepping on a needle. You’ll see it before you feel it. Time will slow. You’ll be in shock. Then the pain worsens. It’s sharper. It’s steadier. It throbs.”

 

She winced as the memory sped up to her. 

 

“You’ve- uh- haddd- experience.” He drawled, syllables wobbly.

 

“Yes.” She said shortly, then- “when you fight, the bullet has to be ignored until your mission is complete.”

 

She didn’t mean to say that aloud but she did anyway, and James managed to look surprised. Her mind grew fuzzy, like there was static traveling between her thoughts- now that she’d opened her mouth she had to keep going. 

 

“You must always complete your mission until operating functions have declined to 23 percent.” She blurted.

 

James tilted his head with confusion.

 

She froze and clamped her lips together, drawing blood from her tongue as she shut herself up. She clenched and unclenched her fists before draining the rest of her beer. 

 

After a moment of silence she continued.

 

“‘Course, if it’s through the head, you’d already be dead.” She placed her glass down quietly. “But that’s your goal. Shoot your enemies in the head, and hope for the best.”

 

James nodded slowly as he took her glass and his, ordering another refill. Lucy wondered if James wanted to get drunk in the first place. 

 

“Have you uh- killed someone in the army- um- before?”

 

Lucy effectively choked on her spit, the liquid burning. She cleared her throat and inhaled as much air as possible.

 

“I- yes.” She admitted as their drinks returned to them.

 

“Does it- do you- how-“ he furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to find the right words.

 

“-do I live with myself?” She finished for him.

 

He winced.

 

“I didn’t mean. . .” He trailed off.

 

Lucy shook her head.

 

“It’s okay, James. It’s a valid question.” She said. “I ask myself why I killed them and what the purpose was. Was it to save myself? Yes. Is that worth it? Saving myself? Saving yourself?”

 

She shrugged.

 

“That’s up to you to decide. You’re not killing because you enjoy it. You’re killing because you want to survive.”

 

When he didn’t reply, she grasped her glass of beer and drank it with a sigh. James looked puzzled, like his brain was attempting to comprehend what she’d said. He picked up his beer and finished it in one go, eyes brightening as if he’d figured something out. 

 

He looked absolutely comical and she waited for him to say something possibly genius.

 

“Right.” He finally said and Lucy almost laughed.

 

He covered his mouth as he yawned and her lips twitched upwards- he still had good manners when he was drunk.

 

Her eyes flickered to the clock hanging on the wall, then to James, examining his tired and drunk eyes. She stood from her stool and placed a few bills on the table. 

 

“It’s getting late, James.” She said.

 

He mirrored her movements and stumbled slightly as he searched for his wallet. She raised an eyebrow.

 

“You really can’t take your alcohol, can you?” She muttered.

 

She grabbed his hand and steadied him as best she could.

 

“Mm, yeah, I gue’s. S’rry jus’-“ he yawned as he rubbed his eyes “t’red, Stevie.”

 

She shot the bartender a smile and he picked up the bills with surprise. His jaw twitched at the amount of money she’d given him and he looked up at her with a thankful smile.

 

She steered James out of the dance pavilion- she didn’t mention the fact she was not Stevie- and carefully helped him travel through the exposition. They stepped out of the front entrance and Lucy furrowed her eyebrows.

 

“Where do you live, James?” She asked and he blinked.

 

He rubbed his eyes and leaned against her shoulder as he looked back and forth.

 

“Uh- Um- my house. ‘Cause I live in a house.” He said.

 

Lucy’s eyelid twitched as they continued down the sidewalk.

 

“Uh huh.” She said with a small nod. “And where is that house?”

 

He furrowed his eyebrows with intent concentration and Lucy patiently waited.

 

“Uh-“ he pointed towards a random building “-that one.”

 

Then he pointed to another one.

 

“Or that one.”

 

Lucy cringed at the motion.

 

Unless she happened to stumble upon his apartment complex, she had the feeling James would continue pointing at random buildings. It would possibly take her the whole night to find the correct apartment complex and she couldn’t file through James’s memories- not that she would if she could. Her steps slowed and James walked haltingly as he glanced at her. She rubbed her temples and thought of what to do. 

 

She could just leave James, but she wasn’t that much of a jerk and she would probably earn an earful from Peggy if she did- she looked at James and his eyes widened slightly, growing watery as he managed to plaster a puppy dog look on his face. How he did that in his drunken state was beyond her. Lucy’s cheeks tinted red, knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to leave James on his own, especially when he looked like a kicked puppy- not that she was going to leave him in the first place.

 

Lucy bit the inside of her lip, then sighed.

 

“James,” she said slowly, “do you know your address? Your home address?”

 

James tilted his head like she was speaking a different language.

 

“Oh Gott, ihr bedeutet den Tod für mich.”

 

Oh god, you’ll be the death of me.

 

She muttered in German as she grasped his hand gently and tugged him across the street.

 

“Lu, ya know what’s really uh- weird?” He said as they continued walking.

 

She looked at him and shrugged- she might as well humor him.

 

“What’s really weird?” She asked.

 

James frowned.

 

“Stevie.” He said. “I think he’s got it bad. The love bugs, I mean. He jus’ fell in love with ya- one look at yer gorgeous face- and it really sucks. Really, really uh- sucks. Yea’.”

 

Lucy stopped, eyes widening in surprise. She let go of James’s arm and looked up at him. He kept looking ahead, walking forwards with a drunken stupor. She shook her head- it seemed reasonable for that to be true, Steve really did like her presence- and she hurriedly caught up to him, grabbing his arm as her apartment complex came into view.

 

“You think so, hmm?” She said curiously.

 

James nodded firmly.

 

“He’s never looked at anyone like that. None of the dates I brought. Ever. Got starry eyes. From him.” He said.

 

Lucy chuckled as she climbed the stairs to her apartment. 

 

“Up you go.” She said as James sauntered up the stairs.

 

She grabbed her apartment keys and twisted the door open. She put her hat on top of her coat rack and placed her jacket on it. James took off his sergeant’s jacket and hat, hooking it on the rack as well. 

 

She shut the door behind him and pulled her shoes off. James chucked off his shoes carelessly, and waddled over to her couch, before collapsing on it. She put his shoes besides each other as James rolled over to look at her.

 

“Sucks though.” He repeated with a sigh.

 

Lucy stood up and walked over towards her kitchen.

 

“Yeah? Why does it bother you?” She asked as she grabbed a glass of water.

 

James sat up with a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest childishly.

 

“‘Cause I love you.”

 

The glass in Lucy’s hand dropped to the ground and shattered.

Chapter 20: Nineteen

“You deserve someone who is intentional and very clear about their feelings for you.”

Brooklyn, New York

June, 1943

“I’M SORRY,” LUCY SAID WITH a nervous chuckle, “hand slipped.”

 

She crouched to the ground and picked up the glittering pieces of shattered glass. She tilted her head to gaze at James, who merely flopped against the couch and buried his face into the comforts of her pillows. When he heard nothing but silence he lifted his head an inch, eyebrows furrowing as he observed her, staring. Then he shut his eyes and smacked his face into the couch again.

 

Lucy breathed in sharply and she looked down at her hand. She’d been distracted by James and a blade of glass had lodged itself into her palm. She grimaced at the blood dripping onto the floor and clenched her jaw at the glare of pain traveling through her arm. A part of her screamed she was weak, while the logical part was outraged by her low tolerance of pain. She, on the other hand, was relieved by the feeling because it meant her pain threshold wasn’t being tested daily. She moved the molecules of the shard and watched as it dissolved into water, before grabbing a kitchen towel, which was hooked onto her oven handle. She covered the blood and grabbed the rest of the broken glass. If she really wanted to, she could turn all the glass into water, but the point of living in Brooklyn was to live as normal as possible, not use her abilities whenever it became convenient. 

 

Besides, if her neighbor saw a floating pot of stew stirring itself, she was sure they’d call the police or figure out if she was a witch- which she wasn’t.

 

She straightened and turned to the sink, running her hand over cold water. It didn’t take long for the bleeding to stop, and she could see the halting healing process, molecular structure of flesh mending together at a rather fast pace.

 

“James?” She said as she turned back to look at the couch.

 

He replied with a tired grunt and pushed himself to sit up. He looked back at her and placed his chin on the top of the couch.

 

“Yes’sm?” He mumbled.

 

Lucy looked back down at the faucet as the water ran clear, the blood from her hand slowly draining in a diluted color of pink. Her hand trembled slightly and she gripped it tightly to stop the motion.

 

“You’re just saying that because you’re drunk, aren’t you?” She started slowly. “You don’t actually think you love me, do you?”

 

The questions seemed to clear James’s mind a bit as he leaned back and stared at her. His lips curled into a soft smile and he shook his head.

 

“I do. You’re. . .” He trailed off and scratched the side of his head. “You don’t swoon. You don’t let people beat on ya. You’re admirable.”

 

He frowned and sunk deeper into the couch.

 

“‘Course Steve knows that too. And if anyone deserves a good relationship, it’d be Stevie.” He pursed his lips.

 

Lucy turned the faucet off and wiped all the blood on the ground with her towel. She opened the bottom cabinet and grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, then splattered it across the floor. She wiped the rest of it and dropped the towel in the sink, wringing the blood and chemicals out. She washed it with soap a few times before placing it back over the oven handle. She grabbed another glass of water and stepped over towards James. She handed the cup to him and he took it without question, gulping all of it easily.

 

She sat across from him and clasped her hands together as he put the cup down.

 

“You barely know me.” She said, her voice failing to remain even.

 

James was one good thing in her life, apart from Peggy and Abraham, and she knew she couldn’t risk to be selfish, just because she wanted to remain friends with him- James would be under HYDRA’s radar for simply knowing her. Sure, Peggy and Abraham drew the same attention but they were dragged into that mess before she was even in it so that was more on them than her. If James was killed- because they would kill him to prove a point- then that was on her, and it’d be her fault, much like everything else was. She could be friends with James and Steve but if it ever went further, if loving someone was thrown into the mix she would have to cut ties with both of them but-

 

“I know.” James interrupted her thoughts and she frowned. “We talked a sh’t ton under the stars and we sparred too many times to count, but I barely know anythin’ bout you, so I know that. I just ain’t so sure if that even matters ‘cause-“

 

He stared at her with a soft gaze.

 

“-when I see ya I jus’- I dunno.” He waved his hand towards his chest as if to show his heart did something when she was near.

 

Lucy couldn’t understand because she’d never fallen in love in her entire life and HYDRA was steadfast in keeping that door closed- if she didn’t know how to care for someone then it would never be a problem, as a weapon or a soldier. 

 

“It was just a friend thing at first, but ain’t everythin’ friend things at first?” He leaned back into the couch and Lucy chewed on the inside of her lip.

 

She stood.

 

“I wasn’t eve’ gonna tell- swear- so I ain’t gon make a move on it, ya know, ‘cause Stevie loves ya and losin’ him is losin’ family.” He nodded to himself, as if he was talking to himself, and Lucy partly wondered if he was.

 

It was too late for her to be having this conversation so she walked over towards her hall closet and pulled out a spare blanket. She travelled back towards James and she handed it to him gently. She would see if he remembered anything in the morning, and hope to god he didn’t, because the conversation would be confusing and it’d be near difficult to react in a normal way- she was very good at pretending to be and react as normal as possible but this was a gray area for her, with or without HYDRA’s conditioning.

 

“You’ll have to sleep on the couch, James.” She said. “I'd give up my bed but it was taken from me before, so-“

 

She cleared her throat, realizing she was being too honest.

 

“Couch is yours.” She finished simply.

 

James nodded and hugged the blanket to his chest as he leaned on his side. Lucy chuckled slightly and took the blanket from him, replacing it with a pillow. She draped the soft fabric over him and walked towards her room.

 

“G’night, Lu.” James muttered under his breath.

 

Lucy bit the inside of her cheek.

 

“Goodnight Blue-eyes.” She muttered fondly, before shutting off the lights in the living room.

 

She travelled down the hall and entered the bathroom, grabbing her bottle of pills and plopping three in her mouth. She swallowed them dry and breathed slowly through her nose as the chemicals took affect, the molecules in the air growing sharper and vivid. She shut her eyes and leaned a hand against her head as she turned off her abilities. A moment of quiet silence passed before she opened her eyes and turned the bathroom faucet on. She quietly washed her face and brushed her teeth, pulling out the pins in her hair and brushing it out as straight as possible.

 

She exited the bathroom after she triple-checked her pill bottles were hidden in the back of her cabinet. She walked into her room, which had the bare minimum of a bed and a wobbly desk that’d come with the apartment. She had better accommodations before, but this home came with freedom, so she preferred this over anything else.

 

She changed out of her clothes and climbed into bed with a tired yawn. She lay flat on her back, hands to her sides, feet straight- a habit she’d gotten into after being trained to sleep in such a way. She stared at the ceiling, hesitant to really sleep when someone else was in the house with her. She reached for the pistol hidden under her pillow and rested a hand on the metal, before returning her arm to its previous position. She wasn’t afraid of James, she was more afraid of the possibility a HYDRA agent would crawl in through the window.

 

She swatted the thought away, even though the paranoia stayed- not that that was really surprising.

 

She started to close her eyes before they snapped open again. 

 

Then there was the fact she was a danger as well. Nightmares usually had her screaming and crying for one thing- it had been a complaint from the neighbor, so she usually slept biting down on an extra pillow- but waking up from a nightmare was even more worrisome. She usually lost all her bearings and became something she was and wasn’t at the same time. She didn’t really have a good sense of time since no one bothered to ever tell her how many days had passed with HYDRA- it hadn’t been days, but months, and she hadn’t even known. 

 

But she was goddamn tired and was a second away from crashing. She rolled over onto her face and let out a short string of sharp German curse words, before turning back over. 

 

James could keep his own in a fight, and if it came to a fight, they’d be fine. 

 

He’d be fine.

 

Her eyelids dropped and she let sleep takeover.

 

When she awoke, she was cold. 

 

Her body was practically frozen, her teeth were chattering and her knees were curled to her chest. She vaguely wondered where her bed, blanket and pillows had disappeared to, but she didn’t question it because- because maybe she’d finally awoken from a dream life. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from shaking continuously. Her skin felt raw and she wondered why for a moment when her mind very, so absolutely, helpfully, supplied the word cold- as if she didn’t already know.

 

Her eyes travelled to the entrance and she resisted the urge to move to the door and bang on it because- because she hadn’t been ordered to and she had no right but to do what they ordered and she’d been told to sit in the center of the room. 

 

So that’s what she did.

 

It was difficult to remain sitting and she shifted to curl on the ground. Her skin was blisteringly cold and she knew it’d be impossible to stand. 

 

How long had she been here? Why had she been returned to Auschwitz? What did she do?

 

Her eyes moved lazily across the morbidly cold room, ice crystals covering every part of it, not sparing an inch of space from brumous air. She breathed in sharply and her heart hammered in her chest when footsteps echoed from the hall. Her hand twitched and she tried to sit up sluggishly, but she couldn’t move. The locks to her cell door clicked and she blinked harshly as light flooded the room.

 

“Come here.” 

 

Her muscles refused to cooperate as she forced herself forwards. She merely slumped against the ground, and she felt her breath start to come short, panic ceasing her chest as she tried to breathe. It was an order she had to follow and if she couldn’t- in a matter of seconds, she started to dry-heave air, eyes wide as adrenaline rushed through her body.

 

“Oh, Ver,” he sighed fondly, “you’re alright.”

 

Two warm hands gently grasped her shoulders and she was pulled out of the temperature room with teeth chattering. He pulled her into his chest and she grasped onto his sleeves as tightly as possible, desperate for the body heat he was exuding. Her heartbeat started to slow and she felt herself grow calm. She leaned her head against his shoulder and he chuckled, gently patting her back.

 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? You did good, so good.” He praised and Lucy felt her heart flutter with warmth.

 

The tension in her body drained away and she sagged with relief. Dr. Schaffer slowly helped her to her feet and she stood with a slight wobble to her knees. The content in his eyes was quickly being replaced by impatience and Lucy forcibly straightened to attention. His pleasant smile returned and he turned down the hall. Her legs quivered and she was unsure if he wanted her to follow. 

 

When he noticed she wasn’t besides him, he clicked his tongue and Lucy visibly paled. She rushed forwards and hurriedly walked behind him, head hung low.

 

“It is not difficult to kill, Ver.” He started as they turned and entered another hall. “Your abilities make it easy, but your mind makes it impossible.”

 

Lucy flinched at the claim because she knew that was true. She would let Dr. Schaffer do whatever the hell he wanted because- because compliance was rewarded. And killing someone, well, that was compliance too, but it was. . .it was wrong. Even if he claimed it was for the greater good it was- wrong.

 

“I’m sorry, sir.” She muttered and Dr. Schaffer sighed.

 

He grabbed a cigarette from his lab coat and waved his hand at her. She stared at the end of the object and ignited the carbon dioxide floating around. He grinned and drew a long breath, before letting the smoke escape his lips.

 

“You know, you always say that,” he said slowly, “I’m not sure if you mean it anymore.”

 

His voice had a dangerous edge to it and Lucy swallowed thickly. 

 

He stared at her, as if she’d respond, before turning away and opening an unfamiliar door. He stepped inside and Lucy followed. There was one singular metal table, with one pistol at the center of it. Behind it was a metal chair where her target would usually sit, awaiting execution with tears. 

 

But it was empty. 

 

She looked at the doctor, confused, and he smirked as he walked around the table and sat comfortably in the chair. Her eyes widened and he leaned his elbow against the table, tapping his cigarette bud as ashes dropped.

 

“Pick up the gun.” He ordered and Lucy moved forwards without a second thought.

 

She clenched her hand around the familiar object, cold palms gripping cold metal. Her finger automatically found a home on the trigger, and she waited. Dr. Schaffer leaned back and let out a long breath of smoke. 

 

He smiled.

 

Her heart thumped against her chest.

 

“Shoot me.” He said, opening up his arms as if he was waiting for a hug.

 

Lucy’s hand trembled and she leveled the gun to his arm. He tilted his head, smile widening.

 

“Oh no,” he said, tapping the middle of his forehead, “aim here.”

 

She turned the barrel of the gun and pointed it at his forehead. She stared and her finger twitched on the trigger. She could shoot him and that would be it- there wouldn’t be any more punishments, she could flee the concentration camp, she would be free. 

 

All she had to do was pull the trigger. 

 

“What is it, Lucy, don’t you want me dead? Go on.” He encouraged and Lucy tensed, her grip on the gun hard enough to warp the metal.

 

She stared at him for a long time, wondering what was wrong- why she couldn’t pull the trigger. Then it clicked, and she felt her shoulders slumping with relief.

 

“The order given conflicts with regulation R-12, the Verfall Soldier is not permitted to harm a superior, and R-17, the Verfall Soldier is permitted to obey its handler without question.” She said because that was an explanation she could form.

 

Dr. Schaffer stood from his chair and took the gun from her hand. 

 

“So this really isn’t all for show, is it?” He said slowly and it took a moment for her to realize he was unsure of her complete compliance- because she was damn good at faking it.

 

She bit the inside of her lip.

 

That was odd, because he’d never shown such an emotion before even when she knew it. . .was there.

 

She slowly looked down at her hands and stared at fingers, wiggling them with a frown. She was naturally pale but her skin was almost ghostly and transparent. She looked up at Dr. Schaffer and stared at the cigarette balanced between his lips. 

 

There was no smoke.

 

She shifted her gaze to his eyes, and he stared with a hollow decomposing gaze, blood seeping from a wound on his neck. 

 

She let out a short scream that was cut off as she sat upright in her bed, her winter blankets thrown to the side. Her whole body was littered in goosebumps and she was shivering so hard her body was practically convulsing. She grasped her pillows and squeezed them to her chest, hanging over the bed to grab her blankets. She wrapped the fabric tightly around herself, and burrowed her face into it.

 

Her nightmares were living memories that usually ended in her death, or someone else’s. She’d never seen him dead, though, so, that was a new experience.

 

She breathed in a gulp of air, settling herself for a second, before standing up and walking around her room. She stretched her hand across her window, then the wall and it’s familiar plaster, then the feeling of wood from her wobbly desk. 

 

“You’re in Brooklyn.” She muttered to herself. “Nowhere close to Germany. Get yourself together.”

 

She moved to settle back in her bed when a few rays of sun poured in through her window. She was surprised it was morning because the dream had mentally drained her and she was still tired. She unravelled herself from her blanket cocoon and tied her hair back with a ribbon. She changed out of her sleepwear to start the day.

 

Then she heard a floorboard creak and froze. 

 

She listened closely as a cabinet clicked open. She dove for the pistol under her pillow and gripped it tightly as she pressed herself against the wall. Her footsteps were expertly silent as she reached the living room. She snuck towards the kitchen, where the sound was emitting from, surprised to find the light on.

 

Her grip on her pistol loosened as a very sleepy James turned around with a cup of water in his hand. He let out a very unmanly shriek and put a hand over his heart.

 

“Holy Jesus fucking Christ!” He sputtered.

 

Lucy raised an amused eyebrow.

 

“Language.” She replied and his eyelid twitched in response.

 

He muttered something along the lines of “Steve’s not a woman” and blinked several times, staring at her for a long moment.

 

He blinked again, then sighed.

 

“Oh.” He breathed as recognition flashed between his eyes.

 

He brought the glass of water to his lips.

 

“Mornin’ Lucy.”

 

She let her shoulders slump as she relaxed and James seemed to get his bearings when his eyes travelled to the gun in her hand. She shifted awkwardly and placed the gun on the kitchen counter. James looked confused and relieved at the same time.

 

She decided she owed him an explanation as she opened her kitchen cabinet to get a glass of water for herself.

 

“Sorry,” she muttered, clearing her throat, “I don’t usually have guests that stay over so. . .”

 

She patted the pistol as James raised a curious eyebrow.

 

“. . .sometimes I forget. I didn’t mean to pull a gun on you.”

 

James, to his credit, didn’t look at her like she was crazy, because what person would forget they let a friend into their home? Instead, he smiled and shook his head as if it was no biggie.

 

“Your home layout is actually. . .very similar to mine.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “So, if I’m being honest, I kinda- well- I thought I was at my place.”

 

Lucy blinked, not expecting that to be his response- not that she really knew what she was supposed to expect in the first place.

 

“Oh well, I’m not sure if you remember but-“ she started.

 

James grimaced and looked more awake as his shoulders slumped apologetically.

 

“Yea’,” he said, cutting her off, “‘sorry ‘bout that.”

 

Lucy watched him carefully, unsure of what he was specifically apologizing for, and attempting to figure out if he really remembered anything. He lifted his head, looking unsure.

 

“I assume I failed to direct you to my house?” He muttered.

 

Lucy chuckled- maybe he really didn’t remember anything- and smiled.

 

“Well,” she said, leaning against her fridge as she sipped on her water, “you pointed toward every other building so. . .yes.”

 

“Right, so uh. . .hopefully I didn’t do something embarrassing?” He paused, suddenly frowning. “Or violent? I mean, Steve says I get ridiculously sleepy, so I shouldn’t have been violent- I um- everything’s fuzzy and I don’t really remember falling asleep on your-“

 

He waved his hand at her couch.

 

“- couch with blankets or walking into your house- period- so if I broke anything or something I’ll pay for it, after- well, actually,” Lucy watched with amusement as he finished rambling, inhaling a gulp of air, “what I mean to say, is, I’m sorry.” 

 

He put his glass of water down nervously and shifted on his feet.

 

Lucy blinked at his apology.

 

“You didn’t break anything.” She said softly. “And the only embarrassing thing you really did was tell me Steve had feelings for me.”

 

James let out a small groan and ran a hand through his hair.

 

“Oh.” He said, then hesitantly added “-you probably knew that already though, didn’t you?” 

 

She furrowed her eyebrows with confusion.

 

James watched her for a moment, as if she was merely joking about what she’d admitted. Lucy’s heart thumped in her chest because- because- was she supposed to know that?

 

“Right,” she swallowed thickly, uncertain, “Steve. . .he okay. That’s fine.”

 

She shuffled on her feet, and took a nervous sip of water from her glass. James didn’t look judgemental- more intrigued, than anything else- and he waved his hand.

 

“He asked you on a date because he’s got a thing for ya.” He explained gently. “If you like him back, then, while I’m gone the two of you could-“

 

Lucy raised a curious eyebrow, and James paused.

 

“I sound like a lovesick highschooler, don’t I?” He groaned and Lucy chuckled.

 

She placed her glass of water in the sink and walked past James towards the living room. He followed as she folded the blanket she’d given him the other night. A bitter smile slipped onto her face as she focused on keeping the fabric neat.

 

“I think Steve could do better.” She said after a moment. “There are plenty of women looking for someone like him.”

 

James didn’t seem to know whether to be offended or curious.

 

“You think so?” He finally asked.

 

Lucy huffed and put the folded blanket on the couch, turning to James with hands on her hips.

 

“I don’t mean it in a rude way,” she clarified, “Steve’s a sweet man, and a good friend. I just don’t, well, I don’t do relationships.”

 

James furrowed his eyebrows with confusion, but remained silent. Lucy didn’t really want to elaborate because that wasn’t something she could really elaborate on without giving away the fact she was emotionally unstable- not that he didn’t know that already, especially with his observant eyes. 

 

She frowned deeply.

 

“There are a lot of things I can do, James,” she said firmly, “and loving is not one of them.”

 

He looked like he wanted to protest, lips threatening to part. Lucy couldn’t deal with this conversation, especially when it was James she was talking to, and not Peggy. Besides, it was way too early in the morning.

 

Her eyes slipped to the clock on her wall.

 

“I thought you were shipping out to England, first thing in the morning.” She said nonchalantly, attempting to change the topic.

 

James stared at her for a long time, longer than necessary, and Lucy raised an eyebrow. That seemed to snap him out of his trance as he nodded sharply.

 

“Right.” He said.

 

She watched as he grabbed his coat and hat, slipping on his shoes with barely an effort. He reached for the door handle when Lucy was smacked in the face with a thought she'd forgotten to mention.

 

“James, that ship, the one you said was heading to England,” she said calmly, “it’s not.”

 

James frowned.

 

“You're headed to Africa- you know that, right?” She continued.

 

She had found it odd that James claimed he was going to England because the only troop transport joining the English campaign had already left New York two weeks ago on June first. The ship, Queen Mary, had carried the 1077th Signal Company Service Group to Gourock, Scotland- according to Peggy, anyway. Most of the troops leaving now were headed to Africa, where they’d land in Casablanca, Morocco. 

 

So, James was either a forgetful idiot, or James knew exactly where he was heading, but didn’t have the heart to tell Steve he was being sent into brutal African and Italian campaigns- Lucy had a gut feeling it was the latter

 

James looked surprised, then pursed his lips together 

 

“Steve would’ve worried.” He said with a shake of his head. “I didn’t want him to.”

 

Lucy observed his slouched shoulders, and his depressing aura. She stepped forwards and hesitantly- because she could easily kill him where he stood without realizing, until it was too late and- gently wrapped her arms around him. He didn’t move for a second and she wondered if she’d overstepped, until he melted into her embrace. 

 

He wrapped his arms around her back and they stood together for a few seconds, before she pulled away.

 

“Don’t die.” She said as she opened her door.

 

James stepped out, placing his hat on his head.

 

“I won’t.”

 

Chapter 21: Twenty

"You know I can control things with my mind, right?”

Brooklyn, New York

June, 1943

LUCY OPENED HER CASH REGISTER as she fiddled with the rolls of crumpled bills that’d been handed to her by the average customer, looking nothing out of the ordinary. A few days had passed since James’s shipment, and she’d returned to her ordinary schedule- wake up, work, sleep, repeat. It wasn’t anything fun but the fact she could choose when to wake up and when to sleep was enough, even if her job came with crappy customers. She hummed under her breath, wary of the impatient man tapping his index finger against the counter. He was smoking a cigar she was adamant in avoiding, maneuvering the finicky molecules in the air and breathing oxygen. She didn’t complain because more than half the Brooklyn population smoked, and it wasn’t her business. She shot him a brilliant smile, mumbling a half-hearted apology. His annoying tapping stopped and she thanked her looks for what seemed to be the thousandth time that day. He smiled at her pleasantly and she handed him a few pennies and nickels for change. With groceries in hand, and money pocketed, he left the building. The man didn’t bother to say goodbye, but Lucy wasn’t expecting him to, not with the way he was jutting his chin out, practically swimming in arrogance. 

 

She turned to the next customer, a patient woman holding a child to her chest. The baby was attempting to sleep, looking around with a small grimace on his face. Lucy felt slightly guilty for the amount of sound traveling through the air- it must’ve been hard for the poor child to close his eyes and doze away. The woman held a few ration tickets towards her, and Lucy scanned the sugar, oil, and canned goods placed in front of her.

 

She said nothing as she wordlessly grabbed the ration tickets and waited for the woman to hand her another pile of crumpled bills. She watched as the woman fumbled to grab crisp dollars that reflected the ceiling light. It looked like the money hadn’t seen the sun for years, and Lucy took it without a second glance.

 

“It’s my son’s first birthday.” The woman explained without any prompting. “I thought his older sister could think of it as somethin’ special. Baby brother growing on up!”

 

Lucy smiled at the enthusiastic woman as she gently maneuvered her baby. She caught a glimpse of the baby’s hazel colored eyes, before quickly looking away. She wouldn’t want a murderer observing her child, not that they knew she was a killer. A small sigh escaped her lips as she counted the amount of bills she’d been given. She furrowed her eyebrows and paused, recounting the money a few times. She looked up at the woman who was staring hopefully at the money, as if it would sprout a few brothers or sisters. Lucy stared at her and the woman reluctantly grabbed the oil and pushed it to the side. 

 

One of the dollar bills slipped from Lucy’s hands, and she lowered herself to the floor. She narrowed her eyes at the bill’s molecular structure, and her hand trembled with how much focus she was putting into air. A headache sped across her head as she pretended to fumble with the bills.

 

“Sorry, one second.” She said to the woman as she tried to peer over the desk.

 

She stood up and cleared her throat. She counted the bills again, this time having the correct amount of dollars. The woman looked confused and Lucy chuckled.

 

“Two of the bills were stuck together.” She smiled.

 

She put the money in the cash register and grabbed a few pennies for change. She inwardly swore that she’d never duplicate money again as her migraine deepened and throbbing pain hammered against her skull. 

 

“Here.” She said, barely keeping her voice steady.

 

The woman took the coins gratefully, seemingly dumbfounded. 

 

Lucy packed their groceries in a brown bag and she watched fondly as the woman disappeared out of the shop. She looked down the line of customers to find no line at all. She glanced at the clock and smiled softly at the time- it was 8:00 pm and she’d finished her shift. She grabbed her purse, pulling the strap over her head as she pulled her hair behind her ear. She carefully placed her red Stetson Aviatrix hat over her head and stepped into the back of the small grocery store.

 

“See you tomorrow, David!” She waved and the man- her kind boss- looked up from his desk.

 

He smiled, eyes crinkling as he waved. 

 

She turned on her heel and pushed the store doors open, breathing in warm summer air. Her eyes flickered across the city buildings as inky darkness pooled from the horizon, spreading across the street. She silently fell into step besides nameless strangers with forgettable faces, walking towards a news stand. A young boy handed her a newspaper and she placed a quarter in his hand. He beamed at her brightly and she shot him a small wink before continuing on her way. She examined the paper with a second of curiosity, before folding it and tucking it into her purse- collecting newspapers had become an odd habit of hers, but she did it because she could simply do it. 

 

She continued on her walk home, stopping haphazardly at the front of an antique store. She eyed the supposed Victorian tea sets, tapping her chin as she observed the intricate designs. 

 

She almost stiffened when she saw beady eyes reflecting on the display’s glass, staring at her from across the street- two pairs, in fact- and she remained indifferent. It could merely be a coincidence- they could’ve been there to buy the antique in the first place- so she stepped past the door and continued walking. 

 

She watched the two men cross the street in her peripheral vision. Now behind her, she could only trust her sixth sense- to know when someone was watching her- and she felt a tingle travel down her spine. This, she told herself, could also be a coincidence, but the doubt in her stomach was slowly growing heavier by the second. Her heart thumped at a surprisingly calming rate, and she managed to keep her shoulders loose as she caught sight of her apartment complex. 

 

Her home drew closer and closer- until she simply walked past it. 

 

She pretended nothing was wrong and took a few more steps before she felt the gazes on her head disappear. She paused, then turned back slightly to see the two men walk up to the second floor of her apartment. Her stress and suspicions deflated as she watched them knock on her neighbors door. She examined her neighbor greet them with recognition, and she let a trickle of relief travel through her body- they were probably businessmen.

 

She turned around, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with a short woman, and traipsed down the sidewalk, making a bee-line to her home. She passed the neighbors door- if she really listened she could hear the men conversing- and fiddled with the keys to her door. She unlocked it and slipped inside with a tired yawn, wanting nothing else but to jump into her shower and massage her sore toes, exhausted from standing all day. She flicked the light on, hooking her purse and hat onto her coat rack whilst kicking off her shoes.

 

She walked to her bathroom and grabbed her bottle of pills, unscrewing the top and placing four of them on her tongue. She swallowed them dry, and turned off her bathroom light as she headed towards her bedroom- sleep was clearly calling her name.

 

When she put her foot in the doorway of her room, she paused. She strained her ears to listen, and found her neighbor oddly quiet. She glanced at her bed longingly for a moment, before stepping back down her hall. 

 

She entered the living room and found herself staring down the barrel of a rifle, which clicked as the man behind the trigger cocked it. 

 

At least, she thought dumbly, her doubt was well placed for once. She didn’t move a muscle, examining the situation while keeping her eyes on the weapon threatening to blow her skull open. Cold adrenaline travelled through her body as her goddamn neighbor sat on her couch, looking terrified and old beyond his years. His hands were held above his head, eyes glued to the man sitting across from him. Lucy couldn’t see him, but she could smell the cigarette that was undoubtedly between his lips. Her heart managed to cartwheel across her rib cage, tearing open as she felt sheer terror course through her body because she wasn’t ready to meet him- because- because how would she beg for mercy?

 

“You know, it’s polite to greet your guests with coffee, Soldier.” He paused, his voice heavily accented with German. “Or tea.” 

 

Lucy’s knees almost gave out as her shoulders slumped. She let out the longest sigh of relief that’d probably ever left her body. If there was someone she couldn’t currently interact with, it was Dr. Schaffer, and she praised whatever entity had graced her with a blessing, because the man on the couch was a terrible imitation of the terrifying colonel. 

 

It was not him.

 

Her reaction, however, was clearly not what the man who was pointing a gun at her face was expecting, and he raised a dubious eyebrow.

 

She realized she was supposed to respond to his partner, and she cleared her throat.

 

“Right.” She said dryly. “Would you like cream and sugar?”

 

She might as well humor him while thinking of a plan to save her neighbor- her neighbor, who was in tears, shaking and trembling as he kept his hands above his head. She bit the inside of her lip, eyes obviously focused on him, rather than her intruders.

 

The man on the couch let out a throaty chuckle, and waved his hand. Lucy snapped her jaw at the man across from her as he moved to grab her arm. The man jumped back, again, not expecting her animalistic nature.

 

“I, fortunately, can walk.” She said slowly, punctuating every word as if the man was incompetent.

 

He sneered at her and she felt marginally satisfied as she walked over towards her couch. She stood besides her still-seated neighbor and examined the other man’s face, trying to find a name to attach it to- her memories came up with nothing.

 

“Yes, and unfortunately, it means you can also run.” He grinned, all teeth and predatorial. “My name is Colonel Strauß, I don’t believe we’ve met yet.”

 

Lucy blinked- she would have to remember that because she remembered everything and goddamnit Verfall, look at me! You’ll remember every damn thing I say and follow it because my word is law- she inhaled sharply, plastering a bright smile on her face.

 

“I can’t say we have.” She said calmly. “If we did, I’d think I’d remember such a fine gentlemen.”

 

She hoped the sarcasm was clear in her voice as the man on the couch- Strauß- smirked and rose to stand. He was tall, but not taller than her, and for once she was thankful for her towering height. Her calculating eyes never left his face, even if she was focused on the weapon in his hand.

 

“I know we’re dressed quite nicely,” Strauß said with amusement, “but we aren’t just here to talk.”

 

Lucy stiffened as the man stalked forwards and harshly grabbed her neighbor. The man dropped to his knees with a horrified cry, and Lucy clenched her jaw, staring as Strauß pressed his pistol to her neighbors forehead. He flashed his teeth at her reaction, digging the metal into the kneeling man’s forehead. With the gun so close to it’s target, it’d be near impossible for her to dissolve the bullet completely- if he pulled the trigger, the innocent man would be dead. Her neighbor stared up at her with begging eyes and she shifted her gaze to Strauß. 

 

“And you’re not here to kill me. If you did, you wouldn’t have shown yourselves.” She said softly.

 

Strauß tapped the pistol on her neighbor’s head.

 

“Good observation.” He hummed.

 

His partner stepped forwards, rifle still trained on her head- no, it was lowered now, to a non-vital part of her body- and she didn’t cringe at the implication. She let her face grow expressionless as he spoke.

 

“We’ll let your precious friend go,” he said, and Lucy didn’t point out she didn’t even know her neighbor’s name, “if you be a good Soldier and come home.”

 

Lucy looked down at her neighbor who seemed to have a very hard time remaining silent. Her eyes flickered to the men who grew increasingly impatient, hands tensing around their triggers. Seeing as the military men had brought guns instead of tranquilizers, she assumed they had absolutely no idea what she could do- and if they did, then they’d clearly hadn’t paid attention when they were receiving their mission’s debrief. She shut her eyes for a moment, then activated her abilities and gazed coldly at the men as she widened her stance.

 

Strauß let out a disappointed sigh and pulled the trigger. A loud bang resonated as the bullet passed through her neighbors head, brain matter exploding onto the wooden floor. Her neighbor’s corpse- because that was all he was now- landed to the ground with a thud. 

 

The two men looked at her expectantly, as if she would cry and beg for mercy- she didn’t. Instead, for one tense second, she looked between them with indifference, before lunging at the man with his rifle. His eyes widened and bullets flew towards her legs- hit her knees, and she wouldn’t be able to fight- but the bullets dissolved into metallic dust before they could tear through skin and muscle. She grabbed the rifle and snapped it clean in half, wrapping a leg around the man's thigh and slamming him into the ground. He groaned and tried to jump back onto his feet as she smacked the broken rifle onto his head. He gasped and momentarily lost his bearings as Lucy moved to incapacitate him- that’s when Strauß fired. 

 

She flinched when the bullet tore through her side, embedding itself into bone. She snapped her head up to look at the Colonel. 

 

She stood calmly, at a sluggish pace, before slamming the heel of her foot into his partner’s neck. He coughed blood and Strauß’s eyes widened as he fired twice more. The bullet’s dissolved halfway to their destination, and Lucy raised both arms, one tucked beneath the other as she shifted her fingers. Strauß struggled as he started to float upwards, sheer terror traveling between his gaze. 

 

Lucy breathed evenly, eyes narrowed with intense focus. Her palm’s curved, as if she was holding a ball, and the molecules around her buzzed with energy. She vaguely noticed wisps of white travelling between her fingers but she decided she’d deal with whatever the hell that was later.

 

Her face was almost as smooth as stone, empty, except for the angry quiver in her lip, a snarl threatening to break her blank stare.

 

“You do not have the clearance to punish, nor speak to me.” She hissed.

 

Strauß stared at her with wide eyes as he struggled to lift his arm and shoot her. She forced her hands downward and his knees slammed into the ground with such force the wood beneath him creaked and groaned in protest. 

 

She stalked forwards and grabbed him by the neck tightly. He stared up at her whilst attempting to hide the fear in his eyes.

 

“Cut off one head-“ he started.

 

Lucy’s hand hovered above his head as she tore through the nerves in his brain. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and she let go of him as he fell backwards. The smoke from her hands dissipated and she lowered them to her side, pressing them against her wound, the bullet lodged deep inside her abdomen.

 

“Two more shall take its place. I know.” She muttered as her eyes travelled between the three bodies scattered across her living room. 

 

She stepped towards her neighbor and gently closed his eyes. Guilt swelled in her heart, but her other neighbors would undoubtedly stop by to see what the commotion was, so she had no time to dwell on the man’s death. She hurriedly destroyed any evidence that could pertain to her life, grabbing her bottle of pills and dumping them into her purse. She threw her clothes inside her suitcase and grabbed her red hat, placing it inside as well- if there were any more agents they’d recognize the garment. She tugged a coat over her shoulders, wincing as her bullet wound throbbed with bone-rattling pain.

 

With reluctance, she unlocked her window and prepared to travel down the fire escape with her suitcase.

 

Her eyes flickered across her small room one last time, before she shut the window and slinked into the alleyway besides her house. She kept herself as concealed as possible, moving from one side of the street to the other. She could barely see the sun and wanted to cry in relief- the camouflage of darkness was the only comfort she had at the moment. 

 

She stumbled towards a telephone booth with her suitcase clicking against the sidewalk, fumbling with a nickel in her pocket. She sat at the booth and grabbed the phone as she dialed Abraham’s number. She waited in silence, heart drumming in her chest as adrenaline continued to pump from her heart. Her eyes scanned the darkness, for either prey or predator- then the phone picked up and she felt air enter her lungs.

 

“Hello?” Abraham spoke with bewilderment, clearly surprised by the sudden call.

 

Lucy breathed deeply once, a shaky breath as her bullet wound oozed with blood.

 

“Abraham I need- to- du-,” she gritted her teeth as english failed her.

 

She cleared her throat and tried again.

 

“Extraktionspunkt an der Gardner Avenue. 2030.”

 

Extraction point at Gardner Avenue. 2030. 

 

She managed to say.

 

Abraham was silent for a moment and panic seized her heart- they could’ve gotten to Abraham too and he could be in even more danger if she-

 

“Okay, Soldat, ich komme bis 2040 dorthin.”

 

Okay Soldier, I’ll get there by 2040. 

 

Lucy slumped into the phone booth, relieved by his answer. She could wait for ten minutes- ten minutes was hardly any time. She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes, which had started to water.

 

“Danke, Abraham.”

 

Thank you, Abraham.

 

She whispered before returning the phone to its designated place. 

 

She stood, refusing to limp as she grabbed her suitcase and hurriedly travelled towards the nearest alleyway, one that was clear of any homeless people. If she knew anything about Brooklyn, they’d be waiting to rob either her or someone else, and she’d end up killing them out of survival instincts. She leaned her suitcase against a darkened brick wall, lifting her shirt to reveal the bloody mess circling her bullet wound. The spot was irritated, swelling and turning an odd shade of purple- a poisonous bullet, then- and she cringed at the skin already trying to heal itself. 

 

She activated her abilities-to remove her skin and take the bullet out- but she was instantly greeted by blinding hot pain, black spots exploding across her vision. She gasped in shock, knees threatening to buckle as she caught herself against the wall. She felt something warm trickle down her nose and she wiped her face with her hand, eyes widening at the amount of blood covering her palm. She grimaced as blood continued to pour from both sides of her nose, shakily ripping her suitcase open and grabbing a random shirt. She bunched it up as she closed her bag of luggage, keeping the shirt pressed against her face.

 

Her eyes were wide with pain and she could barely breathe as her brain cracked against her skull, bursting with electric flames. She felt herself lower to the ground, crouching with one arm wrapped tightly around her torso. Every time she tried to push herself to her feet, a burning, fiery pain burst from her chest and her ribs tightened unbearably around her heart. 

 

She was vaguely aware of a car screeching to a stop, the front door slamming shut. She resisted the urge to look up as she heard fast footsteps traveling towards her. A pathetic whimper escaped her lips as two gentle hands grasped her arms. Maybe it was Abraham, maybe it was Dr. Schaffer, but she didn’t care as she collapsed into his arms.

 

“Mein Gott, what-“ she blearily heard a voice- Abraham, “-we have to get you to the hospital-“

 

Lucy’s eyes widened with horror and she grasped his sleeve weakly.

 

“I-“ she inhaled sharply, “I can’t- I- Not- I can’t- Nein-“

 

She stammered with panic, her pulse threatening to jump out of her chest. He examined her for a moment, his eyes dropping to the blood spreading from her abdomen. His eyebrows raised in alarm and he shook his head.

 

“You’re right, you’re right, no hospital. Ich vergaß. I’m taking you to my house.” He said hurriedly.

 

Abraham grabbed her suitcase and helped her towards his car. She dragged her feet as she stumbled to follow, moving numbly as Abraham swung open the passenger door and gently placed her inside. He shut it, then rushed to put her suitcase in the backseat and returned to the front. He sat down hurriedly and Lucy let out a groan as pain rippled through her bones.

 

She leaned her head against the car seat, fighting to keep her eyes from rolling into the back of her head.

 

“Lucy?” Abraham breathed and she grimaced in response. “Lucy, hey, keep your eyes open.”

 

She hissed because she couldn’t so what the hell was she supposed to do? 

 

She vaguely felt Abraham continuously glance from the road, to her face, then again- a part of her wondered if he’d accidentally crash the car. 

 

That wouldn’t be something fun to deal with and she really didn’t want to get injured again and god, her head was throbbing so much and the bullet was painful because it was probably made for her and the men had actually been appropriately armed- another part of her mindlessly apologized to the dead souls for thinking there weapons were useless- and her body was barely tolerating it and she was losing so much blood through her nose and her vision was turning black and-

 

“Soldat! Augen nach vorn!”

 

Soldier! Eyes front!

 

Lucy straightened and habitually placed her hands on her thighs, palms upwards to show she wasn’t hiding anything from the guards. She stared forwards, eyes wide, looking but unseeing. She ignored the pain- that was a malfunction she couldn’t risk- and wracked her brain for the mission objective.

 

Her heart was steady but she could feel the panic threatening to take over. There wasn’t a mission objective she remembered, because her handler- she snapped her head to the side and focused her gaze on the doct- Abraham.

 

Right, she remembered, she’d gotten shot.

 

She turned her head and looked at Abraham who looked ahead guiltily, clearly upset about what he’d ordered.

 

“What happened?” Abraham asked worriedly as he turned down Parkway street.

 

Lucy didn’t respond, and Abraham frowned at himself.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I don’t know what I’m thinking, you shouldn’t talk.”

 

She let out a relieved sigh, grateful for the end of questions. Silence travelled through the car for a few more minutes, before he parked in front of an apartment complex. He stepped out of the car and grabbed her suitcase. Lucy pushed open the door, mindful of the blood still trickling down her nose and staining her clothes. Abraham travelled up the stairs and Lucy followed in silence, ignorant of the searing pain crawling up her spine. 

 

Abraham stopped on the third level, and unlocked his door, quickly entering. She stumbled inside as Abraham cleared his dining table. He pushed it against the wall, and glanced up at her.

 

“Sit here,” he said as he grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured some over the table, wiping excess with a towel, “up here.”

 

She pushed herself onto the table and groaned as she lay back. The smell of alcohol burned her nose and she laid as still as possible- that was what was expected of her. She heard Abraham shuffle and he appeared with couch pillows.

 

“Lean up.” He said and she did so robotically.

 

He placed the pillows behind her back and he gently pushed her back into the cushions. The pillows supported her weight, and she sat in a half-sitting position. Abraham walked down the hall and she listened as she heard him rummaging around. 

 

He came back with a familiar IV stand fitted with an IV drip. Lucy didn’t have the time to be horrified by the familiar sight, though she was vaguely confused- she’d been weaned off of that for more than a year, and she hadn’t thought any packets were left. Abraham moved quickly as he removed her coat, grabbing her arm gently and carefully placing the needle under her skin. He adjusted how quickly it would drop, then peeled her shirt upwards. He frowned at the wound, and Lucy looked down to see it had completely closed.

 

“I could keep the bullet in-“ he started.

 

Lucy shook her head fiercely.

 

“It’s poisoned- I don’t know- I can feel it.” She said and Abraham scrunched his nose with distaste.

 

He bit the inside of his lip and adjusted his glasses, before lifting his gaze, warm coffee colored eyes meeting her bright blue ones. He frowned at her with hesitance, and she waited for him to speak.

 

“I’m going to remove it, but I can’t give you anesthesia.” He said softly.

 

Lucy remembered that- her body receives anesthesia as poison, Dr. Erskine- and gave Abraham a shaky smile.

 

“I will be fine.” She said. “Don’t worry.”

 

Abraham opened his mouth to protest, then shut it as he scurried down the hall once again. She heard the sound of water rushing, cabinets opening and closing. He returned with a metal container holding a scalpel, which looked brand new and unused- an extra if he ever needed it. Besides that was a first aid kit containing a needle, string and tiny scissors for stitches. He pulled on white gloves and quickly sterilized them.

 

Lucy tried to remind herself Abraham was thinking of her as a patient, and not a test subject, but it was incredibly difficult for her to believe that.

 

He wiped her wound with a towel soaked in rubbing alcohol- she made the sound of a pained animal and Abraham avoided eye contact.

 

“I need you to be as still as possible.” He said as he grabbed his scalpel and leaned over her wound.

 

She looked up at the ceiling with a slow breath.

 

“Confirmed.” She said and Abraham grimaced at her response.

 

Before she could possibly apologize for the slip up, he cut into her skin and she bit back a cry. She focused on the tiny bumps in the ceiling and clenched her hands into tight fists. She counted her breath- in, one, two, three, hold, out, one, two three- and tried her best not to move as he’d instructed. 

 

She was so distracted she barely noticed her blinding headache slowly dissipating, the blood trickling down her nose coming to a stop. With muted confusion, she pulled the bloody shirt away from her face, discarding it onto the ground. Abraham continued to work carefully on her bullet wound, until he reached for something that wasn’t in the metal box he’d brought.

 

He mumbled a few rushed apologies as he sprinted back to his bathroom. He came back with a pair of medical tweezers and Lucy exhaled as he pushed the metal into her wound. She gasped and Abraham looked up at her, holding up the tweezers, which now held a bloodied bullet. 

 

He placed it in his metal box, then reached for the first aid kit.

 

“I’m going to stitch this closed.” He said. “But I’m sure with your enhanced healing, they won’t be needed after an hour or two.”

 

Lucy nodded wordlessly.

 

Stitching the wound closed was a breeze, and Lucy barely felt the prick. Abraham grabbed his alcohol soaked towel and gently wiped her wound again. He tossed it into his kitchen sink and grabbed another kitchen towel, this time, soaked with warm water. He handed it to her and she mumbled a thanks as she wiped blood from her face and hands.

 

Abraham leaned against his kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest, looking as relaxed as possible.

 

“What happened?” He asked, then reluctantly added- “HYDRA?”

 

Lucy looked away.

 

“Yes. I didn’t notice I was being followed until I passed an antique store after work” She shook her head. “I passed my apartment to see if they’d continue following me. Instead they entered my apartment complex and walked to my neighbors home.”

 

Her frown deepened.

 

“My neighbor recognized them but they were dressed as businessmen so I assumed they were-“ she let out a frustrated sigh “-anyway, they used my neighbor as a hostage and they wanted me, alive, unsurprisingly.”

 

Abraham nodded with a knowing look and Lucy leaned her head against the pillows supporting her back.

 

“My neighbor’s dead, which means there are three corpses rotting in my apartment.” She sighed.

 

If she was lucky, the police would find the bodies and assume a shoot out had happened between the three people, and they’d ended up killing each other. If she wasn’t lucky, she could be labeled as a serial killer, or worse. 

 

Abraham cleared his throat.

 

“I’m sure you did the best you could.” He said.

 

Lucy raised a doubtful eyebrow, fiddling with her fingers.

 

“I’ve become predictable by following the same schedule everyday- I’ve gotten sloppy.” She scowled.

 

Abraham shook his head.

 

“You’re living your life. That’s not your fault.” He said.

 

Lucy looked down at her hands, envisioning the white smoke that’d encircled her palms. She frowned and clenched her hands into fists. Her eyes settled on the far wall of his kitchen and Abraham shuffled slightly on his feet as tense silence settled.

 

“How does it feel?” He suddenly asked, waving his hand towards her IV drip.

 

She looked back at it, then to him, before dropping her gaze to her arm. She closed her eyes and hesitantly activated her abilities. She pried one eye open, expecting white hot pain. When she felt nothing, she opened her other eye, looking at the molecules bouncing from one wall to another. 

 

“I don’t understand.” She said, hardly answering his question. 

 

Abraham hummed as she deactivated her abilities.

 

“Do you remember when I said the original IV drips contained a chemical I could not replicate?” He questioned.

 

Lucy nodded, the conversation coming back to her as clear as day.

 

“When Dr. Zola and I analyzed your blood samples, the specific compound- synthetic botulinum astatide, or SBA- and every other chemical administered to you had literally merged with your DNA and RNA, completely rewriting your biochemical and molecular structure.” He frowned deeply. “The pills I’ve been giving you are missing SBA, and I’d hoped the other chemicals would suffice.”

 

Lucy inhaled deeply- could this day get any worse?

 

“I sense there's a ‘but’ lingering in the air.” She said quietly.

 

Abraham nodded, brows furrowing.

 

“You’re bloody nose did not stop until I gave you that.” He pointed to the IV, which was almost empty. “We have to assume your body is still reliant on SBA, which also means your continued usage of- ah- your ability will result in the need to consume a higher dosage of SBA.”

 

Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose.

 

“If I chose to not use my abilities. . .?” She trailed off.

 

Abraham’s eyebrows knitted as he thought deeply of the question. Her heart twisted in her chest when he looked up with an even deeper frown than before.

 

“Your body would be less adamant in obtaining SBA, but it will need it at one point.” He grimaced. 

 

Lucy ran a hand over her face, rubbing her temples.

 

“Dr. Zola and I thought you’d adapt, as you’d done before, but. . .clearly-“ he shook his head “you should rest. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

 

Lucy looked down.

 

“I don’t think there’s anything more you have to say, Abraham.” She muttered.

 

Abraham pursed his lips in disagreement but said nothing. Instead, he stepped to the left of her and removed the IV needle embedded in her skin. He pushed the IV stand to the corner of his kitchen and Lucy moved her legs off the table, planting her feet on the ground. Abraham grasped her arm and helped her walk to his couch. She plopped onto the cushion and moved to lay down.

 

Her bullet wound throbbed every time she moved, but it hurt less then she’d expected it to- the toxicity of her own blood had deconstructed whatever concoction had been released from the bullet. Abraham grabbed one of the couch cushions and an extra blanket from a closet in the hall. He handed Lucy the pillow and gently draped the blanket over her shoulders.

 

She looked up at him with a tired smile.

 

“I’m sorry, for all of this.” She said quietly. “It’s risky for you.”

 

Abraham returned the smile, a weary expression.

 

“I know, but,” he sighed, “what else is new.”

Chapter 22: Twenty One

“Fall seven times, stand up eight."

Brooklyn, New York

June, 1943

ABRAHAM’S HANDS WERE REMARKABLY STEADY as he carefully snipped her stitches, prying the string from her skin with care. Lucy was vaguely aware of his presence, a thousand-yard stare glued to the wall across from her. She’d slept without a single dream, which did nothing to settle the thoughts bouncing around in her head. HYDRA knew where she lived, and the police would assume there was a serial killer on the loose- it would be on the front cover of every newspaper there was. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed to leave- traveling across the country would be unfortunate and inconvenient, but the easiest way to confuse HYDRA and get them off her tail. 

 

Abraham pulled the last piece of string from her skin and placed his tweezers in the kitchen sink. Lucy breathed deeply as she stood up from the couch, inspecting the bullet wound that was nothing more than a faint scar. She pulled her shirt down and glanced at him as Abraham disappeared down the hall. She frowned, watching and listening, until he returned in work attire, a small briefcase in hand. 

 

She tilted her head curiously, and he looked back at her.

 

“I’m driving up to Camp Lehigh for Project: Rebirth.” He said and Lucy pursed her lips. “You can stay here, and I could return tonight- make sure you’re alright. Or, you can come with me and stay there for a few days. It’s your choice.”

 

Lucy was relieved he clarified it was her choice, because she was currently having a disastrous time separating herself from the Soldier, which she embodied whenever she was overwhelmed. She pushed her hands into her pant pockets, wondering if travelling with Abraham was worth it. Chances are Schmidt or Dr. Schaffer had sent out spies all across the country, which would unfortunately include New Jersey. But, it would probably take them a longer time to find her, and they would have a much more difficult time retrieving her from an army base, or a guarded area. 

 

“There’s plenty of food in the refrigerator-“ Abraham started, interrupting her thoughts.

 

She blinked, and shook her head.

 

“I’ll go. I was just. . .calculating the option which benefited the-“ she winced and snapped her head to the side, “-me and um. . .you.” 

 

And by “calculating the options”, she meant “risking his death or capture.” Abraham seemed to understand and he stepped forwards, gently placing one hand on her shoulder. She flinched at first, but reminded herself the warmth from his hand was comforting, not violent, and his smile was just as happy as ever. 

 

“I was dragged into this mess before you ever were. It’s my fault you’re a target anyway, I may as well repay you.” He said softly. 

 

Guilt flickered between his eyes and the phrase rang familiar in her ears. She felt a momentary flutter of sadness- because no, no it’s not your fault- before shaking her head with a reassuring gaze. Without a second thought she pulled him into a tight hug, clasping her hands around his back. Abraham seemed surprised for a moment, before he gently returned the gesture.

 

“Not-“ she inhaled sharply “-Not your fault. Never was your fault. I know that for a fact, Abraham. It’s the same with me, isn’t it?”

 

She leaned back slightly, shaky hands clutching onto his arms as she scanned his eyes.

 

“I‘ve killed, but I never wanted- I couldn’t want- to.” She muttered, almost childishly. “You didn’t want to. Either. So it’s not. Your fault. It’s not.”

 

Abraham looked unsure, but he nodded anyway and Lucy hoped her clipped words were enough to get through to him. She really found no reason for him to hold guilt, when she was still alive and breathing. Of course, she understood deep-rooted guilt that shook her bones and caused tremors to explode across her skin- it was a feeling she couldn’t get rid of, because she’d killed and the blood was on her hands- but that was different, even though it technically wasn’t.

 

She wasn’t ready to accept that, because it was a lot easier to blame herself, then somebody she- for some god forsaken reason- cared about. 

 

Lucy kept his gaze, staring his doubt away, before pulling her arms away from him. His smile had softened and he looked more alive. With his briefcase in hand, he walked over towards her suitcase, bringing it towards her. Her eyes flickered across his attire a second time and she shot him a grateful look as she clicked the locks off her case, swinging the case open and grabbing her SSR uniform, which was folded carefully.

 

“You can change in the bathroom.” Abraham said, gesturing towards the hall leading to his bedroom.

 

She nodded wordlessly, walking towards the bathroom with slouched shoulders, attempting to appear more relaxed then she really was. If she was being honest, she hadn’t comprehended what had really happened last night, not when she’d been running on pure adrenaline. But, now that she’d awoken from a few hours of sleep- which was somehow enough- her mind was running a thousand miles per minute. 

 

Her neighbor was dead with a bullet hole through the center of his skull. He had no dog tags she could collect to remember him, and, well, his face was clear in her memories but not clear enough. He wasn’t a soldier or an officer- worse- he was a civilian, guilty of nothing but living a life. She shut the bathroom door behind her as guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders. There was no point to think of his death, but once she started, she couldn’t stop, and she found herself silently repeating the names of every man she’d killed. Peggy had told her to do the opposite- repeat the names she’d saved- but that wasn’t something she was capable of at the moment.

 

She also mulled over the fact she needed IV drips- SAB or SBA, or whatever it was- to extend her life so she could have an average lifespan, which Abraham could not supply her with. It was possible she could make it herself, but that’d thrown her in a loop, where she could only use her abilities to create the chemical, and nothing else. 

 

She would’ve sighed, if she wasn’t stuck between a weird in-between of being a person and a weapon. She was still herself- she really was- she just felt the need to be impeccably silent and indifferent to almost everything. Almost, because she was vaguely aware of the right to be emotional, feelings of all kind twisting in her gut.

 

She changed with robotic movements, efficient and quick as she buttoned her SSR uniform. If Colonel Phillips wanted her to re-join the SSR, she wasn’t going to. Being an operative would be helpful, yes, but damaging- she was trying not to be caught, and running on the frontlines would be ridiculously stupid.

 

She wasn’t interested in being an idiot.

 

She pulled her hair into a taut army bun, ignoring the frayed pieces of baby hair threatening to frame her face. She usually created a gel that would slick back her hair, but she had to use her abilities sparingly. Whatever she’d done the other day had completely drained her body and she didn’t know how many IV’s Abraham had left, or if he had any, period.

 

She exited the bathroom with her sleep clothes in hand. Abraham was waiting patiently for her, his hat placed tidily on his head. She put her clothes in her suitcase, careful to not dent Peggy’s red hat, then shut it. She stood and pulled her shoes on, alongside Abraham.

 

They left his home, and ventured towards a lone car parked alongside the street. She breathed deeply as she opened the passenger side of the door and ducked her head under the hood. She leaned back as Abraham turned the car on and quietly drove down the street.

 

The sun was barely above the horizon, and Lucy wasn’t surprised- they’d woken early.

 

“You know,” Abraham cleared his throat and she tilted her head, “you were brave for calling me yesterday. I’m sure you weren’t taught to call for help.”

 

Lucy hummed, silently shifting her gaze to the window. 

 

“I called because it wasn’t him.” She said quietly.

 

She paused, grimaced, then repeated- 

 

“It wasn’t him.”

 

Abraham didn't reply for a few minutes, and she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. His hands were tight on the steering wheel, knuckles almost turning white. After a moment, his hands relaxed and a sigh escaped his lips.

 

“Of course it wasn’t.” He frowned. “He’s too important.”

 

Lucy nodded mutely, clasping her hands in her lap and twisting the sleeves of her uniform.

 

“I wouldn't have killed him,” she said dryly, her eyes glued to her shirt, “I’d listen to him. He would’ve told me I was confused. Because I’m always confused and he knows better.”

 

She scoffed, a scowl slipping onto her face as she looked up at Abraham. She knew he would’ve been disappointed- he wouldn’t even need to threaten her. He would’ve chosen the perfect words because he always knew what words were best. It was a science to him, and as long as he put together the right formula, he’d have anyone wrapped around his finger. 

 

“And it would’ve been lies.” Abraham said softly. “Your reaction would be natural, but I have no doubt you would argue against him.”

 

He turned down the road and Lucy was vaguely aware of the buildings slowly being replaced by cornfields. 

 

“I have a feeling I would’ve collapsed. I would’ve panicked. And he would have- he would have-. . .” she swallowed uncertainly “. . .you know he used to, um, hug me. When I panicked. Said it helped. To hear someone’s heartbeat. Said his-“

 

She stopped, because that was personal and she’d vowed never to share the things Dr. Schaffer said on days he looked at her with a gaze too soft to be dangerous. She didn’t understand him, he was an anomaly to probably everyone he ever knew, but he had a life before joining the army, and he had a family just as she had. Maybe it was all a ploy to make him seem innocent so she’d take pity on him if she ever was to attack him- not that she would- but part of her believed some of his words were true. 

 

His mother had helped keep him calm by hugging him gently. At least, that’s what he had told her, eyes distant, before his voice had grown dangerously low and she’d burrowed herself into the corner of her cell, terrified by his sudden change in mood- or more the absence of it.

 

“- did to you was wrong, Lucy.” She caught the end of his sentence, snapping back to reality.

 

Abraham’s grip on his steering wheel had tightened and he adjusted his glasses with one hand, breath carefully controlled and even. 

 

“Whatever he did to you in Auschwitz. The programming. The conditioning. It was wrong. You understand that, right?” He said slowly, voice gently and gaze soft. 

 

Lucy blinked. 

 

She’d never told Abraham what had happened in Auschwitz. She hadn’t even told Peggy what she’d really experienced, and she wasn’t sure if she ever wanted to tell her- Peggy would only grow distraught. Abraham, on the other hand, well, he must’ve knew something, if not more, to what Dr. Schaffer had planned for her.

 

She breathed deeply.

 

“I do.” She fiddled with her fingers. “But he said- he said-“

 

She fumbled over her words and Abrahams eyes flickered towards her before returning to the road.

 

“The Verfall Soldat’s handler is always right.” She blurted. “He said, and- I listened- then I earned- I could sleep. After I couldn’t.”

 

Her sentences were short and clipped, robotic with almost no inflection to her voice. Abraham’s jaw clenched and Lucy ducked her head, a submissive but apologetic gesture. 

 

She knew Abraham wasn’t angry at her, but rather the doctor and what she’d experienced. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t all too bad- Dr. Fenhoff had been nice enough, Dr. Schaffer hadn’t always been there, and she had lots of time to herself- but she had a feeling it would further anger Abraham, so she settled for a quiet apology instead.

 

Abraham breathed through his nose, as calmly as possible.

 

“As a scientist and a doctor, it’s difficult for me to see others use their degree for- for the purpose of dehumanizing a person.” He admitted. “It’s- It’s vial, and immoral, and disgusting.”

 

He breathed a shuddering breath.

 

“Dr. Schaffer took too many risks.” He frowned. “The other test subjects could’ve survived, but he was reckless with his research and he was violent when things didn’t work his way. It’s why he did what he did, and none of it is justifiable.”

 

He looked at her carefully.

 

“Even if what he did seemed nice, none of it was filled with good intentions. I’m sorry Lucy, but, the reality of your situation is that, well, he didn’t care about you, specifically, more your abilities.” He shifted his gaze back to the road.

 

Lucy swallowed thickly, knowing it was true, and something she couldn’t deny. Her eyes flickered from her hands to the window and Abraham sighed, his grip on the wheel loosening. 

 

The drive grew silent, and Lucy’s eyes never strayed from the window. She spotted a singular fox hopping from one side of a small stream, to the other, before the furry animal disappeared in a blur. Then she saw a flock of birds erupt from the field, flying into the sky and disappearing from view. Her ear twitched when Abraham turned the radio on, and she  distantly wondered if the silence had grown awkward for him.

 

They passed a small farm and Lucy caught sight of billowing smoke rising from a campfire in the resident’s backyard. She stared as the smoke swirled upwards, reminiscent of the wispy energy that’d surrounded her hands- oh, that.

 

“Abraham?” She said in a questioning tone, turning to look back at him.

 

He hummed in response and Lucy breathed deeply.

 

“When I used my abilities the other day, my hands were encased in bright transparent-“ she frowned “- energy, I guess. I was collecting molecules around a Colonel- one of them was a Colonel- so I could increase the density of the air and slam him into the ground.”

 

Abraham’s brows furrowed with thought, and she could practically feel the intelligence rippling off of him.

 

“Did it spark? Like electricity?” He asked curiously as he lowered the volume of the radio.

 

Lucy frowned.

 

“Slightly. But it looked more radioactive than it was electric. It was constantly buzzing, and- and white with static. I-“ she looked down “-I remember holding my hands like this.”

 

She held her left palm beneath her right palm, as if she was holding something vertically between them. Abraham glanced at the motion for a split second, frowning as he did so.

 

“And a dense ball of whatever it was collected like a- a lightbulb. And,” she tried to remember it’s distinct shape, but she’d been running on adrenaline at the time, and images were less sharper then they would’ve been, “and it was glowing so much it illuminated the room.”

 

Abraham hummed under his breath as he mulled over her words.

 

“Tearing molecules and putting them back together at the speed you do suggests your abilities are invisible.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “But, it’s possible your sudden adrenaline rush and desire to escape increased the speed in which they broke and came together, producing enough energy that the human eye could actually see it. You must’ve been subconsciously rewriting the molecules surrounding yourself as well. I suspect the covalent bonds buzzed to compensate for their sudden, quick and fast rearrangement.”

 

He blinked and Lucy remained silent as she observed his eyes sharpen.

 

“But, that doesn’t explain the ball of energy, so it’s also possible the unused electrons didn’t have enough time to rearrange and adjust to the changes you created, thus collecting into a small negatively charged energy field. It could be one, or it could be all possibilities I’ve listed. With your abilities, it’s always difficult to know, because you’re the first person who’s ever been able to do what you can.”

 

Abraham gave her a sheepish look and Lucy smiled at him.

 

“I understand.” She said with a thoughtful look. “The rapid combustion of molecules could have possibly been a reason too, right?”

 

“Yes, but, assuming you have a meticulous control over what you create, and what you don’t, that shouldn't be an issue.” He said.

 

Lucy nodded with agreement, because she really did have a remarkably flawless control over the molecules she decided to change. If she really wanted to know what it exactly was, she would have to show Abraham what she’d done- not that she’d have the strength to.

 

Lucy’s eyes flitted back to the window and she blinked at the army base coming into view. It was a variant of Camp McCoy, only the forestry was a bit smaller, and there was a significantly higher amount of military. She assumed it was for protection of Project: Rebirth, and found herself not as surprised.

 

They turned into a dry dirt road, wheels bumping against small ruffles in the ground. Abraham carefully parked his car besides an army truck and collected his keys. Lucy pushed open the passenger door and walked around to grab her suitcase. She dragged it behind her as Abraham grasped his briefcase, walking towards the bunker. 

 

Her eyes scanned familiar soldiers who marched past the pair with a hint of curiosity. She stepped closer to Abraham as the wheels to her suitcase dragged across the ground. Her eyes never stopped observing, watching passerbyers in her peripheral vision. They walked towards a handful of tents, and Lucy ducked as Abraham swung the fabric door open.

 

Colonel Phillips was standing next to a box of files, Peggy rifling through them besides him. They looked up as the pair entered and both of their gazes zoned onto Lucy with surprise. She pressed a thin smile on her face as Abraham stepped forwards.

 

“Colonel, Agent Carter.” He greeted and Colonel Phillips stepped to the side as they walked further into the tent.

 

Lucy didn’t follow, instead shifting her gaze to Peggy who walked towards her with furrowed eyebrows of confusion.

 

“What are you doing here, Lucy?” She asked with an unsure smile and a concerned gaze. 

 

Lucy breathed deeply.

 

This should be easy for her, all she had to do was be honest, and see Peggy as her friend, nothing more, nothing less. She swallowed thickly, eyes flickering to meet Peggy’s gaze. Lucy hadn’t even done anything wrong but her gaze dropped to Peggy’s lips to avoid her now confused stare. 

 

She hadn’t panicked when Abraham had asked- she simply didn’t have a reason to panic because he didn’t have the clearance to- to- but Peggy did, and Lucy was paranoid. Her heart stuttered in her chest and she suddenly felt the air leave her lungs.

 

It only seemed to worry Peggy more and she laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. Lucy flinched and Peggy instantly drew her palm back, eyes narrowing observantly.

 

“Give me a status report, Lucy.” She said, and Lucy wanted to cry with relief.

 

Peggy could’ve referred to her only as the Soldier, or only as, well, herself. But that would only increase the conflict between both parts of herself, so when Peggy settled for a compromise, Lucy was grateful for her sharp eye and bright intelligence.

 

“HYDRA located me, took my neighbor as hostage, killed my neighbor, then attempted to take me home.” She said, the words falling easily from her tongue. 

 

Peggy swallowed, and nodded at her to continue as the concern on her face grew.

 

“I killed both agents, and currently have a healed bullet wound. I found Abraham and I’m-“ She waved at herself “-here now.”

 

Peggy blinked- one, twice, then three times- then closed her eyes, breathing a calm and steady breath.

 

“Are you okay?” She finally asked and Lucy opened her mouth to reply when Peggy shot her a sharp look. “Not their standard of okay, my standard.”

 

Lucy made a distressed noise that was reminiscent of a whine.

 

“I’m fine, physically. I’m just. . .I need some time, mentally.” She admitted.

 

Peggy frowned slightly, leaning against the table besides the box of files she’d been looking through. After a moment of examining her, Peggy threw her hands around her, and Lucy allowed herself the comfort of Peggy’s arms, leaning her head against her shoulder.

 

“I’ve missed you.” Peggy muttered as she pulled back to look at her. 

 

Lucy sighed softly, a relieved smile on her lips- because at least she’d done one thing right.

 

“I did too, Pegs.” She said.

 

Peggy smiled and let go of her arms, placing them on her hips instead. 

 

“Not that I’m complaining about the fact you’re here,” she started with a pursed lip and a stubborn gaze, “but why are you here? Re-joining the army after being attacked by HYDRA doesn’t seem like something you’d do.”

 

Lucy let out a half-hearted chuckle, shaking her head. She leaned a hand against her suitcase as she tried to relax her shoulders.

 

“That’s because I’m not re-joining the army.” She said and Peggy raised a curious eyebrow. “I’m planning to use it as a shield.”

 

“A shield, huh?” She repeated curiously.

 

Lucy almost regretted saying what she’d said so bluntly.

 

“I was hoping to catch a ride to England. From there I was going to travel to Italy, or North Africa, alone.” She admitted.

 

Peggy nodded in understanding, though her eyebrows furrowed at the mention of North Africa. It was a rather random place to pick, and Lucy knew that as much as Peggy did. But, it wasn’t exactly random, if she was being honest with herself. Steve wasn’t fighting on the frontlines- he was still in basic training, for god’s sake- and until he was cleared to do so, she wouldn’t need to protect him. Besides, if he was going to ever be on the frontlines, he’d be flying straight to England, where she’d be able to find him. 

 

So, without really breaking her agreement to keep Steve safe- because he’d be safe for as long as he was in an American army base and wasn’t strutting down alleyways- she was planning on keeping an eye on James. Of course, her first priority was to not be taken; everything else was subprimary to it.

 

“North Africa? Does that have anything to do with the 107th?” Peggy said slyly, eyes glinting as she finally realized why it was so odd.

 

Lucy’s cheeks managed to tint red.

 

“Possibly.” She said with a sheepish look. “Barnes asked me to protect Steve, but, I have a feeling he won’t need much protecting.”

 

Peggy raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at her lips.

 

“Well, yes, I suppose I’ll be doing all the protecting.” She said and Lucy opened her mouth to say that was not what she’d been implying.

 

But Peggy continued.

 

“Got to make sure he doesn’t fall on his poor arse again.” She said with a fond look, and Lucy tilted her head with confusion.

 

It was Peggy’s turn for her cheeks to turn red, and a bright smile spread across Lucy’s lips.

 

“Peggy?” She grinned, despite her current situation. “Do you have a crush?”

 

Peggy rolled her eyes and gently elbowed her in the side.

 

“You make it sound like I’m a bloody teenager.” She huffed playfully.

 

Lucy couldn’t help it and let out an amused laugh.

 

“You like him though, don’t you?” She claimed. “I understand if you do. He’s a fine gentleman.”

 

Peggy’s cheeks regained its natural color as she hummed.

 

“Sergeant Barnes’s friend, right?” She said.

 

Lucy nodded.

 

Peggy pursed her lips at that, and Lucy shifted on her feet unsurely, the easy-going conversational part of her slowly retreating to the back of her mind. An annoying loud silence settled between them, and Lucy listened to Abraham’s conversation with Colonel Phillips- they were arguing, quite loudly, and quite clearly, about who to choose as a candidate.

 

Lucy’s eyes remained on her friend, however, as her gaze grew wistful. Peggy gently grasped Lucy’s hand and she blinked at the motion. Peggy wasn’t one to suddenly grow nostalgic, so she wondered where the sudden bout of emotion had exploded from.

 

“Barnes- he. . .he means a lot to you, doesn’t he?” Peggy asked.

 

Lucy bit the inside of her lip, because James was a liability if she admitted that. Sure, he could hold his own in a fight, but if she’d been given an order to incapacitate him, he’d be dead before he could even protest. Lucy shuddered at the unwanted image of James dying from her hands, quickly swatting the thought away.

 

She huffed and tried to think of what to say.

 

Thankfully, Colonel Phillips and Abraham chose that moment to walk towards them- one was more disgruntled then the other.

 

“Agent Baker.” Colonel Phillips greeted with a nod.

 

Lucy turned as Peggy shuffled to stand besides her.

 

“Yes?” She replied.

 

Colonel Phillips waved the file in his hand, frowning.

 

“I've just been informed-“ he nodded at Abraham “-you aren’t here to rejoin the army. Is that correct?”

 

Lucy squared her shoulders, not defensively, but enough so Colonel Phillips could see her decision was final.

 

“Yes it is, Colonel.” She said.

 

He frowned in disappointment.

 

“Then why are you here?” He questioned neutrally.

 

Lucy tapped her fingers against the side of her arm as she examined his expression.

 

“Colonel-“ Abraham started but she cut him off.

 

“To receive safe passage from America, to England, under the protection of the U.S. army.” She said casually.

 

 Colonel Phillips blinked.

 

“And what makes you think your safety will be guaranteed? You think I’ll send a battalion of troops to England, only for HYDRA to blow them up into nothing but fleshy bits?” He scowled.

 

“I never asked for a battalion, Colonel.” She said stiffly. “Merely a ship or a plane, which I am capable in protecting.”

 

His eyes narrowed, and Lucy kept his gaze, staring with defiance of whatever he was thinking. There was a tense moment of silence, then Colonel Phillips backed down and sighed, adjusting his hat.

 

“Alright.” He nodded. “But you gotta do me a favor.”

 

Lucy raised a curious eyebrow, then nodded for him to continue,

 

“I want you to evaluate both Steven Rogers, and Gilmore Hodge.” 

Chapter 23: Twenty Two

"Nothing can substitute experience.”

Camp Lehigh, New Jersey

June, 1943

LUCY STOOD AT PARADE REST, Colonel Phillips’s request bouncing from one part of her head to the other. She tried to comprehend what he’d asked: wanted her to evaluate. . .to evaluate Steve? In his small, stick-like- she shook her head at the thought. Evaluating two people sounded like a fair trade, but she didn’t know how she felt about sparring with someone she might accidentally kill. 

 

Of course, that wasn’t the only problem she had with evaluating the pair- supposedly, Abraham was adamant in choosing Steve as the first volunteer for Project: Rebirth, where he’d receive the Super Soldier serum, but Colonel Phillips was intent on choosing a soldier named Gilmore Hodge. 

 

Unfortunately, she was the decider.

 

Lucy’s eyes flickered across the group of military men. She couldn’t help the smile lighting up her face as she caught sight of Steve, who struggled to catch up with the rest of them. 

 

They stopped when the drill sergeant noticed her, and Steve adjusted his military-issued helmet as he squinted. She resisted the urge to wave, instead nodding in greeting. He beamed and waved haphazardly as she turned her attention to the sergeant.

 

“I’m Agent Baker, Sergeant. I’m officially on leave,” she said coolly, her voice making no move for arguments, “but Colonel Phillips wants me to evaluate two of your soldiers. Steven Rogers and Gilmore Hodge.”

 

The Sergeant examined her for a moment, then nodded sharply.

 

“Hodge! Rogers!” He demanded and both soldiers stepped forwards, looking marginally confused. “Agent Baker will be evaluating both of you.”

 

Gilmore and Steve remained unmoving as the drill sergeant carried on marching with the rest of his squadron. Lucy’s eyes flickered back towards the pair- there was clear tension between both men as they stood a few feet a part.

 

“I’m Lucy Baker.” She greeted, holding a hand out towards Gilmore.

 

He took it firmly, lips tilting upwards into a flirtatious smirk. She gripped his hand just as firmly, giving it two shakes.

 

“Gilmore Hodge, lady.” He said, lifting her hand up to his lips.

 

Lucy had the conscience to be annoyed before she tugged her hand out of his grip, turning to Steve with a warm glimmer in her eyes, leaving Gilmore awkwardly behind her.

 

“Steven,” she said curtly, “it’s good to see you again.”

 

Steve seemed to get the message- don’t be overly friendly- and he shook her hand with a quick nod. Gilmore looked between them and Lucy didn’t miss the way he sneered at Steve as she turned to walk towards a secluded area for training. Once they arrived, she turned to both men with her hands on her hips.

 

“I’m going to spar with both of you individually.” She said, calculating eyes not missing the way Gilmore resisted a snicker.

 

She ignored him and continued.

 

“However, it won’t be that simple.” She grabbed her M1911 pistol from its holster and waved her hand around the trees surrounding them. “These four trees represent other soldiers. I will be doing everything, well, mostly everything I can to shoot them. Your goal is to make sure I am unable to do so, and, if possible, disarm me. Do you understand?”

 

Gilmore opened his mouth as if to protest, but Steve replied with a stern “yes ma’am” before he could. Lucy tried to be indifferent with both of them, even though Gilmore already had the look of a Grade A asshole- she decided not to merely judge him by his looks.

 

“Good.” She nodded with approval. “Do any of you have a preference of who goes first?”

 

Steve blinked, then shook his head. Gilmore stepped forwards with a confident smirk on his face.

 

“I would like to, if you don’t mind.” He drawled.

 

Lucy nodded and stepped into the center of the training field, fingers tensing around the handle of her firearm. Gilmore rolled his shoulders and shifted on his feet before coming to an almost perfect fighting stance. His feet were a little too far apart, but that’s all Lucy noticed before she nodded at him and he rushed forwards- too slow.

 

She narrowed her eyes- because it was clear he was underestimating her- and she raised the gun in her hand as he swung a fist to her face. She ducked swiftly, expression morphing into distaste at the sight of his unbalanced footing. She rolled forwards as he twisted to hit her again, grabbing his ankle and tugging harshly. He stumbled backwards and almost fell before catching himself. Lucy rolled to stand, and tilted her head at Gilmore who gazed at her with surprise.

 

That split moment of silence was interrupted by a loud bang. Gilmore jumped in surprise and Lucy revealed her gun, which had been placed strategically behind her back. She jerked her head to the side and like an absolute idiot Gilmore looked at the bullet wound on the tree. She swiftly lifted her gun to point at another tree and prayed he wasn’t as stupid. Almost instantly Gilmore swung his leg around, roundhouse kicking her in the abdomen. She grasped his foot and shoved him back as her gun hit the ground. He instantly lunged for it, ignoring the fact that Lucy was still dangerous without the weapon.

 

She frowned as she kicked the gun away from him, ducking to a half-squat in order to be eye-to-eye to him.

 

“C’mon Hodge, you can do better.” She hummed quietly as they both jumped back to their feet.

 

This time Gilmore rushed towards her and attempted to punch her. She deflected every hit with a flat palm, locking her wrist around his from time to time. She found it oddly easy to push him back, further and further, until she realized why he seemed less adamant in pushing against her.

 

For a split second he ducked, dropping and grabbing the hilt of her gun. She almost smiled as he stood and pointed the gun between her eyes. She stepped back, raising her hands slightly, before dropping and kicking his feet out from underneath him while carefully maneuvering around his gun. 

 

Gilmore flailed and the gun went flying. 

 

Lucy smirked and grasped the familiar handle of her favorite gun, pointing at her next target. A bullet buried itself into the trees trunk, just as she was tackled from behind. As she fell another bullet hit the tree to her right, and Gilmore frantically snatched her gun, this time, taking a few tentative steps back, putting at least three feet between them.

 

“Good.” Lucy said as she relaxed. “Your stance was slightly off. Next time, don’t point a gun so close to your attacker. You do know it’s possible to disarm someone with a gun that close, right?”

 

Gilmore thought the question over before shaking his head.

 

“Nah, their ain’t no one out there good enough to do that.” He said. “I’d shoot ‘em before they could.”

 

Lucy couldn’t help it and she outright laughed- it was HYDRA 101 to know how to disarm someone with a gun, and if they didn’t even know how to do that, there’d be no possible way they’d be qualified as an agent or even considered military. Of course, she learned that the hard way, and received her fair share of bullet wounds. 

 

Gilmore’s lips twitched downwards as she observed him.

 

“You’d be surprised, Hodge.” She mused as she held her hand out towards him.

 

He looked momentarily confused before realization crossed his eyes and he handed her the gun.

 

She turned to Steve, who had watched the altercation with a flicker of awe in his eyes. She cleared her throat and he snapped his head up to look at her as she beckoned him forwards.

 

“Steve,” she said as she centered herself in the training field, “I offer you good luck.”

 

Steve swallowed nervously.

 

“Thanks.” He said with a shaky smile.

 

She lifted her gun and Steve instantly sprinted forwards. She expected him to attempt a punch, but he rammed straight into her instead. She blinked as she hit the ground, Steve hurriedly twisting around to kick the gun from her hand- good, he’d disarmed her. She watched the gun skitter across the ground and she jumped to her feet, grabbing Steve by the shoulder before he could rush forwards.

 

She swung a fist at his face and his eyes widened as he ducked, quickly throwing a foot at her feet. She jumped and Steve punched her lightly in the abdomen. She sighed at his reluctant look and she kicked him hard in the side. He grimaced, pain exploding across his expression as he stumbled to the side.

 

She gave him a look, and Steve’s face fell, before he nodded with determination. He rushed forwards, and this time he swung as hard as he could. Lucy ducked, grabbed his arm, then punched him in the face. He dropped, then slammed his other fist into her neck. She winced and let go of Steve quickly, instinctively gagging.

 

She swallowed at the realization she really had low pain tolerance. Steve dove towards her gun and she lunged forwards, grabbing his ankle. He tripped, and Lucy grabbed her gun, spinning to point it at one of the trees. She pulled the trigger as Steve threw his helmet at her. She blinked in surprise as the helmet smacked into her arm, the bullet firing into a bush.

 

Steve moved quickly towards her again, just as Lucy pointed her gun at the tree besides him. She went to pull the trigger when Steve literally jumped in front of the barrel of the gun.

 

“No!” He shrieked.

 

Lucy relaxed her trigger finger, breathing deeply. She hoped he would stay in basic training for the rest of his military life because Steve would clearly become a shield for other people, and nothing else.

 

“They’re just trees, man.” Gilmore said with a shark-like grin.

 

Steve looked immediately irked, but he didn’t say anything as he kept his eyes focused on Lucy. She holstered her gun, a neutral expression masking her distaste.

 

“Thank you, Steve, for taking the exercise seriously. Because these trees represent people, and you just saved two lives.” She said pointedly.

 

Steve lowered his arms, brightening at her words. Gilmore stammered behind her and she decided to ignore him as she continued to evaluate Steve.

 

“But using yourself as a shield isn’t always recommended and by always, I mean never. Steve, I could’ve shot you, and if I was any other Agent, I might’ve.” She frowned.

 

Steve stared at her a moment, then huffed, crossing his arms over his chest with a cheeky grin.

 

“Well, any other Agent wouldn’t be using live bullets.” He replied.

 

Lucy stared at him for a long time, then sighed. 

 

“Alright, alright.” She said, beckoning them forwards. “I have one question, then we can head back.”

 

Gilmore raised an eyebrow and Steve looked up curiously.

 

“If you were only able to save one of these- you, the people, or the mission- which would you choose?” She asked.

 

The question was fairly simple. 

 

With HYDRA, she’d assumed the answer would be the mission. They’d taught her the only way to achieve anything was to always be successful- failure was unacceptable and intolerable. Completing a mission, if they ever sent her on one, was more important than collateral damage. She’d found the idea rather twisted, and hadn’t known the weight of their words until she witnessed Schmidt put a bullet in an Agent’s head for failure. He’d promptly turned to her and said “why save yourself when you haven’t fought to the last man?” and Lucy had nodded along blankly, because disagreeing was almost a death wish.

 

Almost, because Dr. Schaffer vehemently disagreed with Schmidt and argued she was too valuable to lose, thus changing the list of importance- the mission was subprimary to the status of herself. They could not risk her life for any mission because she was a miracle of science and couldn’t be replicated. 

 

Lucy would never agree with both their answers.

 

If she had a choice, she’d choose to save the people. The people always came first when it came to conflicts and war. That’s why there were so many people fighting- so they could protect civilians and innocents milling about the country. They were protecting family and friends by sacrificing themselves for the greater good. If the mission was to fail, but, in turn, saved millions instead, wouldn’t that be worth it?

 

The question was important, because it gave her a view of their moral standpoint.

 

Gilmore cleared his throat.

 

“It’s the mission, ma’am.” He said, with a tone more respectful than it had been.

 

Steve’s expression crinkled and Lucy knew he instantly disagreed. She watched Gilmore, waiting for him to elaborate.

 

“The mission is more important than the people, and is worth the sacrifice of both me, and the others. It’s for world order, ma’am.” He continued.

 

Lucy flinched unnoticeably, resisting the urge to stare at him. His statement was eerily similar to HYDRA’s motto for world peace, and the paranoid part of her mind instantly labeled him as a threat. But Gilmore was all buff- he had no idea how to fight strategically- so she didn’t have much to worry about. Besides, his accent was too strong. 

 

Her expression was indifferent as she turned to Steve. 

 

She had a feeling she knew his answer.

 

His arms were crossed over his chest defensively, lips pursed.

 

“I’d think the people are more important than any mission. If the mission goes right, only for the people you’re trying to protect die, then what’s the point? The mission is to save people, and if it saves millions, by killing thousands, then it’s not worth it.” Steve said confidently.

 

Lucy showed indifference to him as well, nodding at his answer.

 

“Alright,” she said, knowing who she’d pick, “come on.”

 

The three of them trekked through the small forest clearing and returned to the primary training grounds. She dismissed both Steve and Gilmore, who hurriedly rushed away to find the rest of their comrades. Lucy sighed, rubbing her temples as she spotted Colonel Phillips and Abraham. She approached both of them, lips pressed into a thin smile.

 

“What’d you think?” Colonel Phillips questioned.

 

“Physically, Gilmore Hodge has enough muscle to incapacitate me.” She started and Colonel Phillips glanced at Abraham with an ‘I told you so’ gaze, but Lucy wasn’t done.

 

“However, he does not know how to use an ounce of his brain, which ultimately leads to an inability to fight well. If I were to verse him with the intent to kill, it would be embarrassingly easy, even when taking in account he’d be fighting back as hard as he could.” 

 

Colonel Phillips frowned deeply and it was Abraham’s turn to look smug.

 

“Physically, Steve-“ she frowned “- Steve worries me. He has too many ailments. However, he’s got a bright mind and the determination to save his comrades. He uses the weapons available to him and tries his best, even when he knows failure is possible, and imminent. If this is for a project that enhances only his physical abilities, then I would choose Gilmore because he’s tough.”

 

Abraham’s eyebrows furrowed at the conclusive statement, and Colonel Phillips’s gaze brightened. Lucy stared at the Colonel with an unwavering gaze.

 

“He’ll be able to follow orders, and he’d be too intelligently deficient to question them. He’d be a perfect weapon to point and shoot.” She said.

 

Colonel Phillips nodded with approval and Lucy bit harshly onto her tongue in order to stop her horrified reaction. He turned to Abraham, waving his hand towards her as if her words were against the doctor’s. He was unamused, and adjusted his glasses as he caught Lucy’s gaze. She nonchalantly leaned against the wall of a barrock besides her, lifting one hand to pick at her fingernails.

 

“You know, Colonel, it’s extremely difficult to know whose way of freedom is right or wrong when you, an American soldier, blatantly agreed with HYDRA’s ideals.” She said smoothly.

 

Colonel Phillips snapped his head to the side so fast she wondered if he received whiplash. He stared at her and she smiled bitterly.

 

“If you choose Gilmore as your subject, he will become a super soldier, yes, but also a weapon in America’s arsenal. He will not argue with orders that come from his superiors.” She frowned. “That may not seem like an issue but it damn well is, especially if his superiors become corrupt. Steve Rogers, on the other hand, is a perfect candidate mentally, albeit lacking physical attributes. If the serum enhances his physique, then I’m sure his current appearance won’t be a problem. But, to be clear, if the serum enhances the subject both mentally and physically, Steve would still be your best bet.” 

 

Abraham smiled brightly at Colonel Phillips, adjusting his glasses with a twinkle in his eyes. He patted the Colonel's shoulder, then walked towards the barrack entrance.

 

Lucy watched with amusement until Colonel Phillips swiveled on his heel to examine her. 

 

“When do you plan on leaving?” He asked.

 

She cleared her throat.

 

“I was going to take the Edmund B. Alexander.” She paused. “It leaves tomorrow, doesn’t it?”

 

Colonel Phillips gazed at her with confusion, then realization crossed his eyes. He shook his head, pushing his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants.

 

“The departure of the Edmund B. Alexander was pushed back to July.” He said. “The only means of transport I can give you is a private jet supplied by Howard Stark. It won’t have a tracking system, so you won’t have to worry about being followed.”

 

Lucy bit the inside of her lip.

 

Her plan was to leave tomorrow morning, or even tonight- the faster she was gone, the quicker Abraham and Peggy would be safe- from HYDRA, and from herself. She frowned.

 

“How long is it gonna take?” She asked.

 

Colonel Phillips tilted his head from side to side, thinking. 

 

“About four days to a week.” He said, then shook his head. “A favor like that should be easy for Stark, but that depends on his desire to help.”

 

Lucy shuffled on her feet- four days was too long. That was enough for a whole barricade of spies to run amuck in New Jersey, New York, New anywhere. She exhaled, brows furrowing. She was faintly aware of Colonel Phillips watching her, and she looked up when he let out a sigh.

 

“You know what,” Colonel Phillips started, “how about this: if you come with Abraham to the serum trial in two days, talk to Stark, I can guarantee he’ll give you a plane as soon as testing is over.”

 

Lucy raised an eyebrow.

 

“You want me to flirt with him, Colonel?” She questioned.

 

Colonel Phillips chuckled as he took a few steps backwards, mock saluting her.

 

“He’s a Stark, Agent, Stark’s are playboy’s at heart.”

Chapter 24: Twenty Three

"I planned to do what’s right. But it’s not that simple, is it?”

Brooklyn, New York

June, 1943

HOWARD STARK WAS MEANT TO make every woman swoon at his feet, scrambling forwards just to catch a glimpse of his million-dollar smile. Seeing him again, Lucy was unimpressed- not that she was an ordinary woman. The man was dressed in a casual outfit with a suit jacket she was sure Steve had been wearing on the day he’d enlisted. He’d clearly attempted to go incognito as he removed his sunglasses and handed them to his assistant, who was slightly taller than him and looked prestigious if anything. Lucy followed them with her gaze until he stepped in front of the door she’d been lingering next to. His eyes settled on her and he smiled brilliantly, an eyebrow raising in well-concealed confusion.

 

“Good morning, Mr. Stark.” She smiled politely, removing her hand from her pant pocket and holding it towards him. “My name is-“

 

Howard held a hand up, shaking and pointing at her as if he knew her. She stopped, waiting for him to gather his thoughts as a light-bulb seemed to go off in his head. 

 

“Agent Baker. From the SSR.” He finished with a grin, grasping her hand firmly. “I’ve heard of you. You’re one of the most ruthless trainers from Camp McCoy, right?”

 

Lucy blinked, momentarily surprised.

 

“I’d say determined, Mr. Stark.” She said smoothly. “To supply the country with better soldiers.”

 

Howard waved his hand, dismissing the subject.

 

“Yada, yada- doesn’t matter what others say about you. I’m yet to form my own opinion and you should know, I am very opinionated.” He flashed his teeth with a wink.

 

Lucy leaned her shoulder against the door behind her, raising an amused eyebrow.

 

“So I’ve heard.” She hummed. “Mr. Stark-“

 

Howard shook his head.

 

“Please, call me Howard.” He insisted.

 

Lucy cleared her throat.

 

“Howard,” she started again, “I like to think I’m aware of what you are, but not exactly who you are.”

 

Howard’s eyes travelled across her face and he chuckled- Lucy had to admit he was slightly attractive. 

 

Only slightly.

 

“I have a feeling you’d like to change that.” His words were flirtatious but his gaze was more curious than anything.

 

She smiled.

 

“Shall we?” She questioned as she pushed the door open.

 

Howard and his assistant followed behind her as they entered a wide testing area. The ceiling was twice the height of her, and there was a staircase leading to a sub primary level, occupied by a few men in lab coats, including Abraham. Besides him was a coffin shaped bed with metal surrounding it. Lucy’s heart hammered slightly as she neared the scientists, but Abraham’s bright intelligent eyes caught her gaze and she felt the anxiety bubbling beneath her skin settle slightly. 

 

Alongside the lower level was a viewing room several steps above them. Long glass windows served as one of the walls, empty of the politicians who’d take their seats in a few minutes.

 

She fell into step besides Howard and tilted her head towards him, calculating eyes jumping from one scientist to another.

 

“Yes, well I feel we could benefit each other.” She replied.

 

Howard continued towards one of the metal tables, though Lucy didn’t miss the way his eyes twinkled at her response,

 

“And what would you have to offer?” He inquired.

 

Lucy watched as Howard’s assistant handed him his briefcase as he got situated besides the equipment that was serving as his makeshift desk. She loosely pushed her hands into her pockets, thumbs hanging onto the belt loop around her waist. 

 

“Quite a lot actually,” she chuckled, “but not what you’re thinking of.”

 

Howard stopped then, the sound of paper rubbing against each other coming to a stop. He squinted at her, as if he was trying to confirm he’d heard her correctly. After a moment he straightened, turning away from his notes and looking more interested than ever.

 

“Good.” He said curtly, though his flirtatious mannerism returned in the next sentence. “What is it then?”

 

Lucy walked a few steps towards Abraham’s open briefcase and scooped one of the brown leather-back journals she’d packed before leaving Camp Lehigh. She returned to Howard’s side, book in hand.

 

“I’ve been surrounded by technology foreign to the American eye. I’m sure you’d be interested in weapon schematics created by Nazi’s,” she paused, waving her hand, “more specifically in upgrading them.”

 

She’d dedicated all of yesterday to brainstorm exactly what she could offer Howard in return of a plane. 

 

Sure, Colonel Phillips had already contacted him and let the inventor know what he needed, but the rest- like speeding up the process- she had to do herself. So, knowing he was an inventor with the desire to create and receive technical knowledge, she’d relied on her photographic memory and arranged a journal full of weapon blueprints- not that she’d drawn all of them by herself, because, well, Steve had steady hands and she’d been informed he was an artist.

 

“Nazis.” Howard nodded thoughtfully. “So what are you? A double agent? Spy?”

 

The nonchalance in his voice was carefully coating the suspicious inflection threatening to creep onto his voice. Lucy almost wanted to laugh- she was sure Colonel Phillips had arranged the meeting with flawless security. 

 

The testing facility was supposed to be impossible to invade.

 

“A liberated prisoner.” She shrugged. “I have a fair share of trauma, all of which have been caused by Germans. I drew these schematics out of spite, really.”

 

She waved the book slightly, and Howard’s eyes flickered to the fluttering pages curiously.

 

“I like where your ideas are heading, but,” he nodded at the book, “are you sure those prints will mean anything to me?”

 

Lucy moved with unparalleled confidence as she placed the book next to Abraham’s briefcase- it was closer to herself and just out of reach for Howard. She reached forwards and brushed faux dust from his shoulder.

 

“You could simply create the firearms listed to prove me right or wrong.” She tilted her head and leaned forwards, eye-to-eye with him. “But, of course, I have confidence in your abilities to recognize the authenticity of schematics, and to improve the weapons of Neo-Nazis, Howard.” 

 

He let out a throaty chuckle, boldly stepping forwards to thin the gap between them. Lucy was vaguely aware of his assistant stepping back, quietly and awkwardly clearing his throat.

 

“Is this bribery, Agent Baker?” Howard remarked softly, and Lucy let go of his shoulder, leaning away from him. 

 

She feigned an appalled look, placing a hand over her heart.

 

“Is it?” She asked with controlled cluelessness.

 

Howard hummed and Lucy grabbed the journal, holding it out to him. He raised an eyebrow and contemplated on taking it, before swiping it from his hand. She watched as he flipped to a random page. His eyes flicked across both sides quickly, then turned the page. He started muttering under his breath and Lucy suddenly found the equipment surrounding them very interesting.

 

He looked up at her, and awkwardly cleared his throat, realizing he’d been speaking to himself outloud. He turned through a few more pages, let the whole journal flutter open, closed it then handed it back to her. She took it easily and Howard caught her gaze. 

 

“Okay. Let’s say you give me,” he pointed to himself with both hands enthusiastically, “those damn beautiful blueprints. What do you want in return?”

 

Lucy’s expression remained indifferent.

 

“A plane. Untraceable and one I can land in England without being shot out of the sky. By today, preferably in the next half hour.”

 

“Ah, Colonel Phillips called in for one.” Howard said with a small acknowledging nod.

 

He looked back at his assistant who frowned in response. Howard wiggled his eyebrows and the taller man sighed. They had a silent conversation filled with small gestures and subtle changes in their facial expressions. Once Howard was able to win him over, he swiveled on his feet and faced Lucy again.

 

“It would take me a few more days and extra fuel to fly the jet into Camp Lehigh so. . .my butler, Edwin Jarvis, will make a call and prepare your plane in Fort Hamilton.” He said, nudging Jarvis in the side.

 

The man’s eyes flickered over Lucy distrustingly. Lucy matched his gaze and remained unblinking as he examined her. Edwin sighed and turned to Howard.

 

“Of course, sir.” He replied with a twitch in his eyelid.

 

Jarvis turned around, stepping back up the stairs to exit the covert operation room. Lucy followed the man with her eyes before returning her attention to Howard.

 

“I’ll be able to escort you from here to there via one of my cars. And you can give me that lovely book of genius and futuristic-“ he paused from what would’ve been exciting rambling, concern suddenly flickering between his eyes, “-wait, you can fly a plane, right? ‘Cause I don’t have a pilot currently in Brooklyn.”

 

Lucy wasn’t at all concerned about flying a plane, especially when she’d learned to do so with HYDRA as mandatory equipment training. 

 

“Yes, I assure you I can fly a plane.” She said with a pleased smile. “Oh, and, here.”

 

She grabbed his hand and placed the journal in his palm. He looked at the book like Christmas had come early, epically failing in concealing his excitement. His professional demeanor disappeared as he flipped from page to page. Lucy observed him as he rushed to grab a sheet of paper from his briefcase, scribbling down ideas, brain moving faster than his hand as his letters turned into nothing but scribbles.

 

She left him to it and let her eyes flicker across the room a second time. The glass room above them now occupied a few people- she caught sight of Colonel Phillips before he disappeared out of the room. She sighed and turned to walk back towards the staircase to wait for Peggy and Steve, who were currently on their way.

 

Someone cleared their throat behind her and she turned on her heel.

 

“Seems like you’ll be gone just as fast as you appeared, hmm?” Abraham said with an amused look, though his happy expression dwindled.

 

“Were those coffee Tuesday’s not enough for you?” She questioned with a grin.

 

Abraham chuckled at that, and he shook his head. Lucy’s grin formed into a soft smile and she breathed deeply.

 

“I’m-um,” she could feel a sudden wave of shyness unravel from her heart, “going to miss you, Abraham. And those talks we had.”

 

She lifted her head to meet his gaze. He eyed her fondly, then huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“Don’t forget the fact I saved your life.” He said with a joking wink.

 

Lucy’s smile brightened.

 

“And that.” She nodded.

 

A moment of silence travelled between them, one they both used to mourn her departing. He opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it, his eyes lighting up. He held up his pointer finger and stepped towards his briefcase.

 

“I almost forgot. I have the formula for your pills.” He said, rummaging around for the right sheet of paper. 

 

When he finally found the paper he was looking for he folded it in half, then folded that half in half, then folded it in half again, so it was only as big as her palm.

 

“Here.” He said, placing the paper carefully in her hand. “If you ever run out and you’re too far to get to me, you’ll have to find a lab or. . .”

 

He trailed off and Lucy nodded in understanding- her abilities would have to be put to use, whether she wanted to or not. If it did come to that, she’d probably make SBA instead, but, she decided not to mention the chemical. 

 

“There is also another box of IV drips in the hall closet. There should be four of them, unopened. You didn’t really need it at the time so I kept them.” He informed. “We can grab them before you leave.”

 

Lucy tried not to look overly relieved.

 

“Thanks, Abraham.”

 

He left his briefcase open as he moved back to the equipment he’d been using. She watched as he played with the dials until the red lines lined up with the blue ones. She grew disinterested and found herself leaning against the wall near the staircase, shutting her eyes but remaining hyper aware of the slightest footstep in her direction.

 

If she focused hard enough, she could hear the hushed voices travelling from scientist to scientist, politician to politician. She listened for a particular set of footsteps, waiting for the click of low-heeled shoes. A few minutes passed by and Lucy’s eyes snapped open, brisk and quick paced strides echoing in the hall, ones she recognized. 

 

The double-door entrance opened and all movement in the room came to a stop. Lucy lifted her head to examine Peggy with her perfect curls, and Steve in his military uniform, eyes flitting back and forth nervously. 

 

Peggy’s gaze flickered to her and she nodded at her in greeting. The pair stepped down the stairs towards the lower level and approached Abraham. Lucy was vaguely aware of the room above filling quickly as she nudged Peggy with her shoulder.

 

“Pegs.” She said with a quirk of her lips, tilting her head half an inch towards Steve who stepped towards Abraham.

 

Peggy rolled her eyes and nudged her back.

 

“Lucy.” She huffed.

 

Lucy grinned at her mischievously, before turning to Steve as he grasped Abraham’s hand, shaking it firmly.

 

“Good morning.” Abraham greeted, taking his hand.

 

 Lucy noticed the photographer before anyone else did and snapped her head to the side, shying closer to Peggy. White light flashed and she gnawed on the inside of her lip as she tried to think of anything but her sensory deprivation and isolation chamber- she failed miserably. Her heartbeat thrummed beneath her skin and she looked forwards with a thousand-yard stare as the room started to spin. 

 

The walls were suddenly too small and too short, shrinking as seconds ticked by. Lucy could feel her breathing quicken and she let out a long exhale in an attempt to bring it down, but it was futile. She tried her best not to panic, reminding herself it was literally just a flash of light and was something absolutely ridiculous to panic over. Still, she couldn’t control the tremors threatening to climb up her arms and down her spine.

 

The world started to spin and she shut her eyes harshly, finding solace in the darkness. 

 

She felt something tightly grab her hand and she hurriedly focused on the feeling of skin against skin, using it as her anchor before it could disappear. When she finally felt like the world wasn’t upside down and orbiting her a million miles per minute, she opened her eyes again, unsure of how much time had passed. 

 

Steve, the photographer and Abraham were no longer standing in front of her, but Peggy was still at her side, fingers wrapped tightly around her hand, squeezing gently in short random patterns. 

 

She blinked and turned her head to look at her.

 

“You back now?” She asked softly.

 

Lucy stared at her for a moment, then nodded.

 

“Sorry. . .that was. . .” She sighed.

 

Peggy stared at her with so much compassion Lucy couldn’t help but melt the self-hatred ice picks poking at her brain.

 

“Understandable.” Peggy finished for her.

 

Lucy nodded and let her gaze sweep over the room once again. 

 

Steve was laying on the medical coffin-shaped bed, and Abraham was standing besides him. A nurse walked to Steve’s side and pulled a protective belt over his waist. Lucy felt bile rise from the back of her throat, vividly remembering the leather that’d dug into her skin when she’d received her serum. She swallowed thickly, leaning her body closer to Peggy continued to hold her hand. Lucy dropped her gaze to catch sight of Steve’s face. Any facial muscles that would show distress were relaxed- the only emotion he was currently showing was nervousness, and that was okay.

 

“Why don’t you ask him how he’s feeling?”

 

Lucy blinked, wondering how she failed to notice Abraham moving across the small space. 

 

His gaze flickered with understanding as she patted her shoulder, waving his hand towards Steve who was seemingly trying to keep himself together. She breathed deeply because- because that was simply just not allowed, especially when someone was being experimented on since it meant they weren’t considered human and talking to them would make it worse and that was against the rules- except there were no rules and this wasn’t HYDRA.

 

Abraham wiggled his eyebrows.

 

“He’s your friend, isn’t he? I think he might need one of those right about,” he looked down at his watch and tapped the glass casing, “now.”

 

Lucy let an amused smile slip onto her face and she let out a soft chuckle before taking one brave step away from Peggy- her safety and anchor- walking over to Steve’s side. 

 

He turned his head slightly when he noticed her approaching and she shot him a reassuring look, easily hearing his rapid heartbeat that was most-likely threatening his ticker to explode.

 

“Hey.” Steve greeted.

 

Lucy blanked, forgetting the right words to respond with as her eyes sped over the hospital equipment behind her. Her eyes flitted back to Steve as he waited for a response.

 

“I think James would have a heart attack if he saw this.” She blurted.

 

She flinched at the blunt words that left her lips, and waited for a response. 

 

Steve blinked, then let out a short laugh, shaking his head as best he could while being strapped down.

 

“I think he’d slug me in the face.” He agreed.

 

Lucy leaned one hand against the bed as Steve looked up at her thoughtfully.

 

“You didn’t tell him, did you?” He asked curiously.

 

From the tone of his voice Lucy knew he wasn’t going to be upset if she had indeed told James. She shook her head, raising a small amused eyebrow.

 

“I think if I’d told him, he’d be more angry with me than you.” She shrugged. “Besides, I think it’s best if he heard it from you.”

 

Steve breathed deeply, his gaze shifting to the ceiling.

 

“Yeah,” he finally said, “if I see him again.”

 

Lucy’s hand hovered over his shoulder, contemplating on patting him. She decided to gently tap him, giving him a confident look.

 

“When you see him.” She corrected.

 

Steve’s smile softened and he nodded in agreement. 

 

Lucy glanced back at Abraham, who stepped towards her. He stood besides her as he turned to look at Steve.

 

“Comfortable?” He questioned.

 

Steve looked back at him, shifting slightly.

 

“It’s a little big.” He responded and Abraham chuckled.

 

Lucy didn’t point out the container was supposed to fit a super soldier, not a normal person.

 

“You save me any of that schnapps?” Steve asked after a moment.

 

Abraham looked regretful as he shook his head.

 

“Not as much as I should have. Sorry.” He paused. “Next time.”

 

Steve breathed deeply and Lucy could see the shudder of his chest as his rib cage moved. She couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for Steve, wondering how he managed to survive with the ailments his body came with. She pushed her curiosity away, scolding herself for almost prying into Steve’s autonomy.

 

“Mr. Stark, how are your levels?” Abraham questioned as he turned back to look at Howard.

 

Steve’s eyes widened for a moment, his eyes flicking towards Lucy in disbelief. She smiled, winking at him knowingly as Howard stepped over towards him, his gaze flitting across Steve’s upper body.

 

“Levels at 100 percent.” He replied. 

 

“Good.” Abraham nodded.

 

“We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn. But we are ready.” He said, his eyes returning to Steve’s face. “As we’ll ever be.”

 

Howard glanced back at her and Lucy’s lips curled into a cocky smirk. He chuckled in response and she turned to walk towards Peggy, who was standing awkwardly to the side. 

 

Abraham stepped over to her before she could, holding his hand out towards the upper room.

 

“Agent Carter,” he said, “don’t you think you’ll be more comfortable in the booth?”

 

He gave her a suggestive smile and Lucy stepped over towards Peggy swiftly.

 

“Oh, yes, sorry.” She said with an apologetic look.

 

Lucy grasped her hand and tugged her towards the staircase leading to the upper level. They travelled towards the entrance and Peggy tugged her hand, stopping her for a moment.

 

“Is it bad that I’m worried?” Peggy whispered with a frown.

 

Lucy shook her head, a soft look flickering between her eyes.

 

“I think it’s completely reasonable.” She reassured. “I’d react the same if that was James laying there.”

 

Peggy blinked, then grinned mischievously. Lucy recognized the look and groaned, running a hand over her face. Peggy raised a suggestive eyebrow and Lucy huffed.

 

“I do not think- that’s not what I meant.” She insisted. “I’m merely just a bit closer with James then Steve, like you- and I’d-“

 

She shook her head, lips pursing so much it looked as though she was pouting. She pushed open the door with complete silence, and her footsteps were imperceptible as she stepped inside. The politicians inside turned their heads only when Peggy’s heeled shoes clicked against the ground. Their eyes lingered on Lucy for a second longer and she tried her best to ignore them as she tilted her head towards Peggy’s ear.

 

“What I meant was that I trust Abraham.” She tried again. “And Steve will most likely be fine.”

 

Peggy stepped towards a pair of open seats and Lucy followed, sitting besides her. She clasped her hands together, pulling one leg over the other.

 

“Especially since he’s not as reckless as him.” She muttered.

 

Peggy nodded, a smug smile playing at her lips. Lucy resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the man besides her cleared his throat. She turned her head to look at him as he smiled in greeting.

 

“Hello, my name is Fred Clemson. I’m from the State Department” He said, adjusting his glasses slightly.

 

He held a hand towards her but she barely noticed it as her eyes flickered across his face. His smile faltered slightly and Lucy realized she was being rude so she quickly grasped his hand and shook it.

 

“Sorry,” she said with an apologetic look, “my name is Lucy.”

 

He nodded and Lucy awkwardly turned away from him. She could still see his face in her peripheral vision and she tried to make out why the man looked so familiar. After a few seconds of thinking she leaned back in her seat.

 

“Have you been to England?” She asked.

 

Fred seemed to be caught by surprise as he raised an eyebrow.

 

“I can’t say I have.” He said shortly.

 

She hummed in response, turning away from him once again. She tried not to frown because she was either mistaking the man for someone else- whom she couldn’t really place- or had never really met him. The latter made more sense, only because his accent wasn’t reminiscent of Brooklyn.

 

Her thoughts were cut off by a loud ringing sound that exploded across the room. She winced, alongside everybody else as they quieted down.

 

“Do you hear me? Is this on?” Abraham said.

 

Lucy smiled slightly, relaxing in her seat as she watched him speak.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, “today we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step, on the path to peace.”

 

She let her gaze wander across the room as a pod of vials were revealed. Steve looked as nervous as ever, even more so than before.

 

“We begin with a series of micro- injections, into the subjects major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change. And then, to stimulate growth the subject will be saturated with Vita-Rays.”

 

Steve didn’t look alarmed as a nurse pulled a contraption that covered his chest. In fact he looked like he knew every step that would take place. Lucy felt relief fill her veins, glad Abraham was kind enough to debrief him. She’d been given no such treatment, and she almost found this okay, because Steve had consented to it, and the medical team working with him were kind. She inwardly cringed as Steve was given a shot, the needle visible from where she was seated.

 

Steve’s face scrunched with anticipation, and Lucy watched his lips move as his body relaxed.

 

“Serum infusion, beginning in five, four, three, two,” the machine deployed around Steve’s upper arms as well, “one.”

 

Steve’s eyes widened with sudden pain and Lucy felt a twinge of worry travel through her body. A part of her noted the process was much more delicate than hers, although she knew this wasn’t going to be a similar process.

 

“Now Mr. Stark.” Abraham nodded.

 

Howard lowered a lever and Steve was slowly placed in a standing position, pieces of the coffin encircling him. It closed completely and a nurse placed an oxygen pipe at the top of it. Abraham approached the coffin and tapped on the viewing window.

 

“Steven? Can you hear me?” Abraham questioned.

 

“It’s probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?” Steve’s voice seeped through the speakers and Peggy chuckled at his response.

 

Lucy elbowed her gently in the side with a wink and Peggy rolled her eyes.

 

Abraham turned to Howard.

 

“We will proceed.” Abraham announced.

 

Howard nodded and walked over towards the equipment, turning a dial and placing a pair of black glasses that were similar to the sunglasses he’d been wearing previously.

 

Howard grabbed a small steering wheel, turning it slightly.

 

“That’s 10 percent.” He said, looking back at Steve. “Twenty percent. Thirty.”

 

Lucy narrowed her eyes to avoid the bright light beaming from the inside of Steve’s coffin.

 

“That’s 40 percent.” Howard stopped for a moment, and another man turned to him.

 

“Vital signs are normal.”

 

Lucy and Peggy both let out a breath of relief as the light brightened further.

 

“That’s 50 percent!” Howard continued. “Sixty. Seventy.”

 

The light brightened further, until Lucy had to drop her gaze. But, she only did so for a few seconds because Steve’s agonizing screams had her looking straight at the light again. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably and she felt Peggy lean forwards besides her with worry. When the screaming didn’t stop Peggy hurriedly left her seat, rushing out of the room.

 

Lucy’s eyes widened and she jumped after her, pushing open the metal door as it swung shut.

 

“Wait- Pegs!” She called, hurriedly catching up to her.

 

Peggy rushed to the railing, hands clenching it so tight her knuckles were turning white. Lucy placed a hand on top of her for reassurance, watching as Abraham rushed towards the coffin- which could possibly become Steve’s actual coffin.

 

“Steven!” Abraham cried.

 

He banged his fist on the viewing window when Steve kept screaming.

 

“Shut it down!” Peggy shouted.

 

“Steven!” He shouted again and Lucy looked between Steve’s coffin, then Peggy.

 

She drew a long breath before closing her eyes and activating her abilities. She snapped her gaze to the inside of the coffin and was thoroughly alarmed by the amount of radiation surrounding him. The molecules inside- Steve- was buzzing at a fast rate, but not fast enough to lead to death.

 

“Shut it down!” Peggy cried more fervently and Abraham quickly turned to Howard.

 

“Kill the reactor Stark! Turn it off! Kill it! Kill the reactor!” Abraham shouted.

 

He rushed towards Howard when it seemed like he wasn’t moving fast enough.

 

“No!” Steve shouted from inside. “Don’t! I can do this!”

 

Peggy opened her mouth to shout again but Lucy jostled her arm. She glanced at her for a split second and Lucy placed her other hand against Peggy’s, letting the molecules buzz around her fingertips. Peggy’s eyes widened with surprise as Lucy turned her head back to Steve.

 

“His molecular structure is intact.” She muttered. “In fact, it’s more uniform than it was before.”

 

Peggy pursed her lips, nodded, then turned back to stare at Steve.

 

Lucy deactivated her abilities.

 

“90! That’s 100 percent!” Howard shouted over the electric humming enveloping the room.

 

The machinery started to crackle and fuses blew as the machine started to power down. The whirring slowly faded into nothing but silence, so quiet that Lucy held her breath. 

 

“Mr. Stark?” Abraham said expectantly.

 

Howard pulled down the level he’d grabbed last time, revealing Steve, who was now a foot taller than he’d been before. Of course, alongside that he was suddenly toned and filled with muscles, but Lucy wasn’t really paying attention to that- she was more worried about his mental state, if anything. She turned her head to Peggy whose cheeks were the slightest hint of pink.

 

Lucy cleared her throat and Peggy blinked out of her daze.

 

She nodded her head to the side and the pair of them stepped downstairs, approaching Steve as he stumbled out of the coffin.

 

“Steven? Steven.” Abraham grabbed his arm gently to keep him steady on his feet.

 

Howard moved to the left of him to help as well.

 

“I did it.” Steve huffed, breathing heavily.

 

Lucy could hear the politicians upstairs climbing out of the room and towards the stairs as she and Peggy stood before Steve. 

 

“How do you feel?” Peggy questioned, worry etched all over her face.

 

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest as Steve blearily looked around, before locking his gaze on Peggy.

 

“Taller.” He said.

 

Lucy didn’t miss the moment Peggy accidentally tapped his pectorals. She raised an eyebrow and Peggy tried her best not to turn red as she was handed a towel. She pulled it over Steve who smiled in thanks. 

 

“You look good, soldier.” Lucy said with a nod. “I bet James would agree.”

 

Steve shifted his gaze to her and looked relieved. 

 

“Maybe, if he doesn’t kill me first.” He said.

 

Lucy laughed, shaking her head. James would probably be angry, but he’d put up with Steve’s stubbornness like he had before. Her eyes flickered to Abraham who was talking to one of the politicians.

 

“Congratulations, Doctor.” The man said as Lucy inched her way towards him.

 

“Thank you, sir.” Abraham nodded.

 

He looked to the left, just as Lucy made her way to the right of him. She followed his gaze to see Fred Clemson standing off to the side with a calculating gaze. She observed him as he grabbed a lighter from his pocket, flicking it open. He clicked something on it, and Lucy expected a small flame to flicker.

 

Instead she was greeted with the sound of breaking glass and an explosion that left her ears ringing. Everyone ducked for cover- except for Lucy, who ignored the glass shards raining around her. She snapped her head upwards, furious to see Fred quickly grab one of the extra serums. 

 

Abraham jumped to his feet besides her and pointed.

 

“Stop him!” He shouted, just as the man drew a gun, firing twice.

 

Lucy activated her abilities a second too late and resorted to lunging at Abraham. They both hit the ground with a thud, and she quickly rolled off of Abraham as she scanned his body for injuries. Her heart plummeted to the ground as blood seeped from his chest. 

 

She heard a few more gunshots go off- she distantly knew it was Peggy- as she placed one hand over the bullet in Abraham’s chest. Steve dropped to the left of her, eyebrows furrowed with disbelief as Abraham weakly tapped at his chest, pointing to his heart. Abraham dropped his hand and shut his eyes, but Lucy could still see the rise and fall of his chest. 

 

Steve disappeared from her side- no doubt to chase Clemson- and she placed her hand over Abraham’s wound again. The politicians surrounding her watched with confusion but Lucy didn’t care because Abraham couldn’t die- not like this, fighting for what was right- she couldn’t let him leave like this.

 

“Don’t.” He muttered, his eyes fluttering open.

 

He placed a warm hand over hers and Lucy shook her head.

 

“Abraham.” She said, breathing in sharply as her voice wobbled.

 

“Sie werden mich wieder holen. Das ist es nicht wert.”

 

They will come for me again. It’s not worth it.

 

He grimaced in pain and Lucy’s hand trembled against Abraham’s chest.

 

“Es ist zwi-zwingend, dass ich meinen Handler heile.”

 

It is im-imperative that I heal my handler.

 

She muttered as she tried to disintegrate the bullet inside of him, hurriedly trying to produce blood cells.

 

“Nun, dann ist es gut, dass ich nicht dein Handler bin, hmm?”

 

Well, then it’s good I’m not your handler, hmm?

 

He smiled weakly and Lucy shook her head furiously as tears threatened to well in her eyes. Abraham grasped her hand and pulled it off of his chest. He shook his head and Lucy swallowed bile as the sound of his heartbeat slowed further. 

 

“Abraham.” Her voice shook as she grasped the hand on top of hers.

 

“Du kannst noch nicht schlafen.”

 

You can’t sleep yet.

 

She whispered as she shook his arm.

 

He remained still, too still.

 

Her eyes flickered over his face, his eyelids unmoving. It really did look like he was just trying to sleep, but Lucy knew better, and she bit harshly on her tongue to stop the anger swelling in her chest. For a moment that’s all she felt, seething rage that burned from her heart and desperately wanting to escape. 

 

Then, when she placed a shaking hand on his forehead, searching for the neurons firing in his brain, she felt nothing. It was like a switch had gone off in her brain, and she was numb as her eyes remained on Abraham’s face, his body nothing but a lifeless corps. Her tears dissipated, and the remorse flickering across her face was gone, replaced by a chillingly blank expression. She shifted back onto her knees, standing to her feet. 

 

Without turning her head- because she had to remember his face, burn his peaceful gaze into her mind- she spoke.

 

“Stark.” 

 

Howard looked mournful as he shifted his gaze to her.

 

“Take me to your plane. Now.”

Chapter 25: Twenty Four

"Anger doesn’t solve anything. It builds nothing but it can destroy everything.”

Fort Hamilton, New York

June, 1943

LUCY WAS THOROUGH WHEN SHE left Brooklyn, filling her suitcase with military grade weapons she’d borrowed from the base in New Jersey, ranging from pistols to rifles, to even grenades. She doubted she’d use all of them but it was better to be well-prepared than not. She’d also taken the IV drips from the hallway closet in Abraham’s home, placing the carefully sealed box exactly where she left it, leaving no proof of her presence. She’d almost cried then, but she didn’t let the tears fall until she’d entered the backseat of Howard’s car. She knew he’d glanced at her for a moment, before returning his gaze to the road. He didn’t bother talking, and Lucy would’ve been relieved with his mindfulness if she wasn’t busy keeping her anger at bay. 

 

HYDRA had come for Abraham, as much as they’d come for the serum. Lucy struggled not to blame herself, because it wasn’t even her fault and twisting the problem to center it on herself was ridiculously selfish. Even if she was guilty, Abraham wouldn’t want her to dwell on it. 

 

She clenched her jaw as she grabbed her suitcase and pulled it out of Howard’s trunk.

 

They would know, however, how much his death would fracture her. They would know how much she’d malfunction and they’d know she’d want to run on the frontlines to kill like a feral animal, until there was enough HYDRA blood spilled for her to swim in. Lucy liked to point out that was not why she was traveling to goddamn Morocco. Why the hell would she go to Africa if she wanted to massacre HYDRA agents? At least, that was her logic, even though she technically knew the 107th were going to head towards Italy and the European field soon, which would ultimately lead her to Germany. But the 107th were yet to land in Casablanca and she’d be more level-headed then- again, not that she was going to Morocco in order to hunt HYDRA agents.

 

She was careful not to slam Howard’s trunk shut because that would leave a dent and she didn’t need to worry about fixing a dent when she was extremely close to hitting, well, just about anything. She forced her expression to remain neutral as Howard walked besides her with an air of caution- maybe he’d seen what grief could do to someone.

 

Jarvis was awaiting them and Howard had quickly swooped in to speak with him curtly and sharply, as if it was all business and nothing else. Lucy had been appreciative before, but now a part of her actually liked the way Howard simply was. She’d seen him as intelligent, but not thoughtful. In silence he took her suitcase and placed it in the jet compartment behind the piloting seat. Lucy moved to climb into the front, ignoring the helmet Jarvis hesitantly offered.

 

The shrill screech of tires momentarily distracted her, and she turned to see a familiar military jeep come to a sharp stop. She cocked her head to the side, anticipating a hostile, rather than a friend. When the car doors opened her eyelids twitched, the familiar brown curls clinging to Peggy’s head bouncing as she climbed out of the front seat and sprinted towards her. Steve and Colonel Phillips, who’d driven the vehicle, were also exiting the jeep, though less desperately.

 

Lucy turned back to the plane and placed a hand on the pilot door, ready to prop herself upwards.

 

“Stop!” Peggy shouted authoritatively.

 

Lucy felt every joint in her body snap to attention as she swiveled on her heel to face Peggy, hands stiff at her sides, chin impeccably horizontal to the ground. She could see the instant regret in Peggy’s gaze and took care to forcibly relax her body.

 

“Pegs?” She asked with a strained voice. “What are you doing here?”

 

Peggy’s worried eyes searched hers before she grabbed both her hands, holding them tightly between hers.

 

“Lucy,” she started softly, “I know Abraham meant the world to you. I will miss him as much as Steven will, as much as you will. But losing someone and being alone shortly after isn’t right.You should be around people. Friends.”

 

The worry in her voice was filled with grief and Lucy knew the doctor’s passing was affecting Peggy as much as it was affecting her. Lucy breathed deeply, shaking her head.

 

“I planned to leave, whether or not Abraham passed.” She said with a frown. “If I stay I’ll only be putting you in danger, Peggy.”

 

Peggy shook her head fiercely, her eyes lighting up with a stubbornness mirroring Steve’s. 

 

“You shouldn’t leave alone. Colonel Phillips and I are planning to fly straight to England after this,” she nodded her head towards Howard, “and Howard. It’ll be better if we stay together.”

 

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, her frown deepening. Peggy hadn’t cared this much when she’d planned to leave in the first place, and now she was suddenly on her ass, trying to make her stay. She wondered if Peggy thought she wanted revenge- it was a relevant thought and Lucy planned to nullify it.

 

“Peggy,” she sighed, “look, I’m not going to Morocco, or the European front to do harm. I’m going to find James and make sure he’s alright. I haven’t planned what to do afterwards, but that’s how life is, right?”

 

Peggy looked unconvinced and Lucy felt her stomach bubble with anger. She immediately tried to cool the emotion, reminding herself Peggy was usually mindful of crossing her boundaries- but she was definitely pushing her patience. 

 

“Yes, but you’re upset, and anger can bring the worst out of people.” She said quietly.

 

Lucy shook her head with disgust.

 

“I don’t kill people when I’m malfunctioning and unstable. You should know that.” She managed not to snap.

 

Peggy had a reason to be worried, but the implication that Lucy was indeed going to slaughter thousands because she was angry was disappointing.

 

“Lucy,” Peggy tried again, her voice raising in volume, “I’m worried they’ll find you and I won’t be there to help you. There won’t be anyone there!”

 

Lucy was vaguely aware of Howard and Jarvis, who slowly stepped back towards Steve and Colonel Phillips. She straightened her back, and scowled at Peggy, hating the way she raised her voice. She’d only ever raised it back in England, when Lucy was having trouble recovering and asked for orders, not suggestions.

 

“I know, and that’s perfectly reasonable, but I can protect myself just as well as you can, Pegs.” She said calmly.

 

Peggy seemed to know that already, but she didn’t seem to care. Whatever was bothering her was more than the prospect of Lucy killing in cold blood- but Peggy’s grief and worry was not something she could handle now.

 

“Stay. Please.” Peggy pressed.

 

Lucy bit the inside of her cheek.

 

“Can’t you trust me?” She replied.

 

Peggy drew back, then let out a disbelieving scoff. The sound grated against Lucy’s ears and blew wind to the angry flame she was trying to kill. She clenched her jaw as her eyes raked over Peggy’s expression. Lucy was already mad enough without an argument, and one sentence would tick her off. She wasn’t exactly angry at Peggy, she was just pressing all the wrong buttons at the wrong time.

 

“This isn’t about me trusting your ability to refrain from killing people!” Peggy yelled, eyes watering. “They’ll come for you, you know they will.”

 

Lucy scoffed this time, cocking her head to the side.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, why was this not a problem when I told you I was going to Morocco in the first place?!” She snapped.

 

Peggy looked taken aback, then shook her head fiercely, taking a step forward.

 

“You said you were going to England! Then Morocco!” She accused.

 

Lucy threw her hands up in the air.

 

“Well, I have my own plane now, so why the hell would I waste gas going to England, then Morocco?!” She seethed.

 

Peggy shook her head, clearly noticing she was getting off topic.

 

“This wasn’t a problem before, because Abraham wasn’t dead!” She cried.

 

Lucy’s eyes narrowed.

 

“What? So am I your crutch? Because he’s suddenly gone and you need me?” She frowned.

 

She knew that wasn’t true- it was ridiculously stupid to think it was but Lucy was going to say it out of spite. She hadn’t argued with Peggy in a year or so, in fact she hadn’t argued with anyone, and that damn well made her take advantage of the one time she could let out an anger she’d been piling since 1940.

 

Peggy ran a hand through her curls, staring up at her with frustration.

 

“No, Lucy, you know that’s not what I meant. They didn’t hesitate in killing Abraham, but they knew he was valuable. What do you think they’ll do to you? Take you? Or kill you?” 

 

Lucy’s blood grew cold and felt her whole body constrict with heated rage because they wouldn’t kill her- she was too valuable to be killed and hunted- and they were searching for her because she meant something to them and too much time was spent on her and too much money and she had to be worth something because if she wasn’t then they wouldn’t be looking for her and she knew that and it made her feel good, because it meant they still cared which meant he still cared which meant she was being good and that gave her a reason to be happy-

 

“You don’t know what my value is to them. You don’t know how goddamn important I am. The moment you took me from my cell and dragged me out into this god forsaken world was the moment they knew how important I fucking was.” She snarled.

 

Peggy blinked.

 

The anger in her eyes disappeared, replaced with a softness Lucy couldn’t quite place. 

 

She suddenly felt small, swallowing thickly as her heart palpitated in her chest. She’d yelled at Peggy a few times before, each one giving her a small panic attack out of nerves and fear of repercussions- not that there were any. 

 

“Do you- do you really believe that?” Peggy asked, a cautious tone to her voice.

 

“I don’t-“ Lucy ruffled her hair, tilting her head to the side “-I don’t know. Okay? I don’t. And I don’t understand why that’s even important to me because I know it shouldn’t be but it is and I don’t know how to change how I’m feeling. I just- look, all I know is that Abraham is dead because I led them to him. I chose to find him and asked him for help. I know it’s not supposed to be my fault and it probably isn’t but that’s damn hard to believe when so much of the blame points to me.”

 

She breathed heavily, feeling winded as she shoved her hands into her pockets,

 

“Just let me do this, let me run from this, Pegs.” She said with a low voice.

 

Her eyes flickered back and forth across the ground.

 

“I thought you were tired of running.” Peggy said.

 

If her voice hadn’t been soft, Lucy would’ve thought she was poking at her. 

 

“I thought I could change my mind.” She said slowly.

 

She lifted her gaze to meet Peggy’s, unsure of the rule because she could’ve changed it if she wanted to- not that Peggy was a handler who could give rules or missions parameters in the first place.

 

“Has the parameters changed?” She blurted.

 

Peggy shook her head furiously, then put her hands on her hips.

 

“You really want to do this?” She asked, eyes scanning hers.

 

Lucy nodded without missing a heartbeat.

 

Peggy covered her face with her hands, inhaling deeply. She seemed to think to herself before finally letting out a defeated sigh.

 

“Okay.” She said breathlessly. “Okay.” 

 

Lucy didn’t meet her eyes, turning back to the jet. The hatch to the pilot was still open, waiting for her to step inside. She flicked her gaze to Peggy’s general vicinity.

 

“Goodbye Pegs.” She muttered.

 

She watched as Peggy clutched her hand to her heart, eyes watering further.

 

“I’ll see you later.” Peggy said, her voice coiled and stiff. “I will.”

 

Lucy climbed into the pilot seat and shifted in her seat as she pulled the seatbelt across her chest. She glanced back at her suitcase to make sure it was snug, then looked back at Peggy.

 

“I’ll be counting on it.”

 

The hatch lowered, and Lucy let the wind take her plane.

Chapter 26: Twenty Five

"One day someone is going to hug you so tight, that all of your broken pieces fit back together.”

Morocco, Africa

June, 1943

WHEN LUCY SET FOOT IN the African base, she’d let a smile slip onto her face. It was far from genuine, and all she could do was hope it’d be enough to fool the leading colonel, or well, at least the man that’d allow her to pursue the 107th division, legally. Her eyes flitted across the flight crew who stood alongside a tan-skinned man who peered at her beneath his cap. Her gaze remained focused on him as she dragged her suitcase across the pebbly ground, approaching him leisurely. The man was at least a head shorter than her, and he seemed to straighten when she towered over him. That didn’t change the respect she had for him, purely because he was a US colonel.

 

“You must be Agent Lucille Baker.” The colonel said placatingly as he held a hand towards her.

 

He examined her and Lucy wondered if she looked as particularly exhausted as she was. She tried to smooth her features in an attempt to look less threatening, grasping his hand firmly.

 

“Yes, although Lucy or Agent Baker works.” She paused. “I hope you received Colonel Phillips' message?”

 

The colonel nodded in response, then turned his head towards the flight crew, dismissing them with one hand. Lucy remained silent as he turned on his heel and walked towards a barrack. She followed behind him as he glanced at her again.

 

“My name is George Anderson, Colonel Anderson, if you will.” He informed. “Colonel Phillips told me a stray was coming by, something about a former-prisoner-of-war-turned-special-agent?”

 

Lucy eye twitched at his wording, feet dragging against the floor.

 

“But you’re not here to fight, he said, more so to. . .hide.” He continued, raising an eyebrow.

 

Lucy was genuinely surprised by his ability to seem completely charitable yet judgemental at the same time. The drastic emotional switch was something she was used to handling, however, so she merely shrugged and adjusted the grip on her suitcase handle, unfazed.

 

“I’m here for my own benefit as much as the military’s, Colonel.” She said as they entered the barrack.

 

She was instantly greeted by rows of beds, which were empty and folded. She examined the walls before approaching a bed and dropping her suitcase on it. She flipped the case open as Colonel Anderson hovered over her shoulder. 

 

“Is that so?” He questioned skeptically.

 

Lucy’s eyes twitched as she grabbed her black SSR uniform, tactical gear she hadn’t worn since Camp McCoy. The fabric smelled faintly of laundry soap as her fingers brushed against the zipper. She rifled through the rest of her suitcase, placing her guns in a neat row besides it.

 

“I plan to leave with the 107th division, and my mere presence offers the regiment an amount of protection-“ she narrowed her eyes, shaking her head slightly “-you’re men can’t supply.”

 

She felt Colonel Anderson stiffen considerably and Lucy glanced back at him. She straightened as she pulled the last of her weapons out of her bag, clearing her throat and shooting him a small look. He stared at her with narrowed eyes before turning respectively and crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“Mm, and how is that in any possible way true?” He said, sounding marginally offended.

 

Lucy pulled her shirt over her head as she moved with ease, slipping on her black undershirt, then her tactical jacket, zipping it closed. 

 

“I’m a special agent.” She said, grasping her shoes and tugging them off.

 

She pulled her pants up to her waist and strapped her gun holsters over her thighs. Her hand curled around a sleek military grade backpack as she tugged  it out of the case. It was filled with simple necessities: pills, IV drips, and MRE’s. Peggy’s red hat sat snuggly in the corner of her suitcase, and she hesitantly grabbed it, rolling it into a tight cylinder before putting it in the bottom of her survival bag.

 

She pushed her combat boots on, tying them tightly.

 

“Yes, and that somehow has everything to do with your presence here. I can’t help but find you a bit suspicious.” Colonel Anderson replied with a frown.

 

Lucy sheathed two daggers and placed her M1911 pistol in her thigh holster. She placed the rest of her weapons in her backpack, zipping it shut. She walked into Colonel Anderson’s view and he turned slightly, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

 

“If I was a spy, I’d-“ she paused “-actually like to think I’d be fairly good at it. Unfortunately, that isn’t the case.”

 

Colonel Anderson searched her gaze and Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. She let her eyes remain on him as she thought over the right words to use. 

 

“Do you trust Colonel Phillips?” She finally asked.

 

He hummed in thought, then shrugged.

 

“As far as I can throw him.” He paused, then squinted. “Maybe a bit more.”

 

Lucy chuckled slightly, swinging her backpack over her shoulder, and clicking the buckle across her chest. She turned to her suitcase and shut the almost bare container- only her change of clothes was left. 

 

“That should be enough.” 

 

Colonel Anderson inhaled deeply, then let a small frown slip onto his face.

 

“Hold on a minute, your goal is to travel with the 107th to-?“ he started.

 

Lucy tilted her head and she continued for him.

 

“As far as Italy. Afterwards I’ll be, most-likely, off the radar. I wouldn’t be hiding very well if I told you where I’m going to be.” She said and he nodded slowly.

 

She stepped towards the end of the barracks, where a large map was hanging. Colonel Anderson followed besides her as he mulled over her words. Her eyes traced the wall as the colonel huffed.

 

“Right. What exactly are you hiding from?” He asked.

 

Lucy glanced back at him.

 

“HYDRA, a Nazi science division that strays from the belief’s of Nazism. Really. It’s alarming.” She said conversationally.

 

She wondered if Colonel Phillips did any of the necessary reading about the organization. Of course, she was sure HYDRA was still apart of the Nazi division, so their war crimes would simply be German war crimes, and military colonel’s wouldn’t be too interested in the difference. 

 

“Why are Nazi’s hunting you?” He questioned.

 

Lucy sighed.

 

“Prisoner of war, remember?” She said.

 

Colonel Anderson crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his chin.

 

“Remind me again, how you can provide the 107th with protection when you can’t even protect yourself?” He raised an eyebrow.

 

Lucy shifted on her feet, her lips flattening into a thin line. She could easily protect the 107th from any physical harm, especially since a mass hoard of HYDRA agents weren’t travelling the country to hunt specific American soldiers. 

 

Not that Colonel Anderson knew that.

 

She relaxed her shoulders as she faced him.

 

“Colonel Anderson, it seems you and I reside on the same sheet of paper, yet on opposite sides. I simply can’t explain something to you when you don’t have the ability to comprehend it.” She smiled, ignoring the anxiety bubbling in her chest for being a smartass.

 

The Colonel narrowed his eyes, examining her expression. For a moment he looked incredibly offended, then, to Lucy’s surprise, the Colonel grinned.

 

“Well, Agent Baker,” he said nonchalantly, shoulders dropping relaxedly, “I’m afraid the 107th have already departed. They left a few hours ago, after landing. But they should be somewhere along. . .” 

 

His finger trailed over the map. 

 

“Here.”

 

Lucy nodded, inwardly thanking her photographic memory as she turned on her heel to leave the barrack. Colonel Anderson followed quickly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Be careful.” He said with sincerity and concern.

 

Lucy almost received whiplash by the sudden mood change and she couldn’t help the confused expression on her face.

 

“I was starting to get the impression that you didn’t like me.” She said.

 

Colonel Anderson looked regretful as he clasped his hands together.

 

“I’m not. I just don’t like women who climb the ranks through incompetence.” He adjusted his hat. “Clearly, I judged you wrong, Agent.”

 

Lucy’s lips tilted upwards as she stepped back from him.

 

“It’s better to be safe than sorry.” She said with a dismissing shrug.

 

Colonel Anderson opened his mouth, maybe to apologize, then closed it. He settled with a nod and Lucy turned on her heel, walking towards the camp exit and towards a thicket of dark oak trees. 

 

She stepped foot on the path-less dirt of the forest, and started to fiddle with her fingers, both out of boredom and nerves. 

 

When she was younger walking with nature had never been something she’d enjoyed. She was less adventurous then the nearby clam at the fish market, and would rather stay in a shell of familiarity then step into a bug-infested forest of the unknown. Before ever coming in contact with HYDRA she’d hated having free days because there were no schedules on those days, and if there was no schedule, she had no idea what to do with herself. She’d end up on the couch, simply reading until she needed to sleep- not that reading novels were detrimental. Her preferences were probably why she lasted so long in HYDRA, especially since she didn’t like the stress of choices in the first place.

 

Lucy swallowed thickly at the thought- having choices was what made her human- Peggy had reminded her a million times by now. She knew there was a part of her that insisted HYDRA wasn’t all too bad because they gave her a schedule and she didn’t need to worry about when she would eat, or sleep, or exercise. They’d told her what to do and that was- it was grueling but it was okay. 

 

Lucy hurriedly swatted the thought away, eyes flickering across the bark of old trees. 

 

Even if she liked to think on the bright side of things, rather than the very very dark side of them, that particular situation had no bright side. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about that anyway, at least according to Peggy. She filed through her thoughts and brought her plan to the front of her mind: she needed to find the 107th, make sure James made his voyage across the ocean, look and be as unsuspicious as possible while marching with them, then find a small town in Italy that’d be inconspicuous to live in.

 

She nodded to herself, and continued forwards, stepping over branches in complete silence. After a few minutes, she boredly unsheathed one of her daggers and started to flip them in one hand. She let her eyes scan her surroundings every ten seconds or so, remaining alert but relaxed as she carefully hiked on. 

 

An hour or so into her walk, she mentally brought up the map she’d seen before, making sure she wasn’t going off course. When she was sure she hadn’t wandered, she lifted her head to stare at the sky, noting the moon had dropped considerably. She placed her blade back in her sheathe and started into a jog, gradually picking up the speed. 

 

More than half an hour passed when she could finally hear the faint sound of footsteps, a few hundred yards in front of her. She narrowed her eyes in the dark as she caught sight of a regiment of people. She slowed to a walking pace and purposely stepped on a branch, which snapped loud enough to echo. Several people at the edge of the group spun on their feet, weapons suddenly lifted. 

 

She held her hands up in surrender as she approached them, eyes flickering across their faces as sweat sheened on their foreheads. None of them was the person she was looking for, so she was glad when one of the soldiers in front of her called the group to a stop.

 

“Hey Dugan!” A soldier shouted, keeping his eyes on her. “We got company!”

 

Lucy watched, dropping her hands to her sides patiently as the crowd parted slightly for a tall man with a black wool western hat stepped forwards. Minus the rifle swung over his shoulders he looked reminiscent of a cowboy, dark brown eyes flickering across her physique. In the dark, Lucy could faintly see another bodily mass walking besides him, slowly coming to a stop and examining her in the dark.

 

The soldiers shuffled slightly with an air of unease, and Lucy crossed her arms over her chest as the man- Dugan- stepped forwards carefully. 

 

“You coming from camp?” He questioned, eyes narrowing. “Or you tailing us just cause?”

 

Lucy pressed her lips into a thin smile, remaining silent as her eyes continued to search the men. She squinted at the man besides Dugan, and caught sight of familiar blue eyes, which lit up with recognition.

 

“Wait.” 

 

James stepped forwards, and Lucy got a better look at him. He seemed exhausted beyond his years, eyes weary as he observed her. She didn’t know how he could look so worn out within a few days, but there was a stiffness in his stance that was off putting.

 

“I know her.” He finally said.

 

He waved his hand at the men still pointing their rifles, and they slowly lowered them as Dugan turned to him with a confused.

 

She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off when James rushed towards her, throwing his arms around her back. He practically sagged against her with relief and Lucy blinked a few times, before hesitantly bringing her hand up to his back, patting it reassuringly.

 

“Hey Blue-eyes.” She said fondly. “You alright?”

 

James pulled back, letting go of her while his eyes flickered across her face.

 

“Yeah.” He mumbled, looking up at her with a tired grin. “What about you?”

 

She breathed deeply, a vivid image of Abraham’s body flashing across her mind. She winced unnoticeably, then shrugged.

 

“Life could be better.” She said, smiling slightly.

 

James nodded in agreement, before Falsworth and the rest of the 107th soldiers approached them. Lucy shifted on her feet, shoving her hands in her pockets as she turned to him.

 

“Agent Baker?” She heard a few soldier’s mutter and she recognized most of them.

 

With a closer look, Lucy could see a slight difference in uniform between half of the group, though they mingled together. She recognized their uniforms and was pleasantly surprised by the British regiment. She was faintly reminded of the English base she’d seen a few years ago.

 

“So Miss-“ Dugan Started.

 

“Lucy. Or Agent Baker.” She said politely.

 

Dugan nodded slowly.

 

“Right, so Agent Baker. You apart of the American military?” He questioned. 

 

Lucy smiled.

 

“I’m an SSR agent on leave.” She paused. “Colonel Anderson’s permitted me to travel with your men until we reach Italy.” 

 

Dugan hummed for a moment, before sticking his hand out towards her.

 

“Major Timothy Dugan, ma’am. They call me ‘Dum Dum’ though.” He said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder.

 

 Lucy looked vaguely amused as she grasped his hand, shaking it firmly.

 

“Nice to meet you, Major.” She said with a respectful nod, before turning towards the pathless path they were walking on. “Should we get going?”

 

Timothy smiled, turning to the soldiers around them.

 

“We’re moving out again!” He announced and they let out a few sighs.

 

The soldiers turned and Lucy stepped forwards, continuing in her walk, now accompanied by a group of military men and one of her only friends- James. It was refreshing to travel with people, and not be completely lost in the woods- she didn’t need to keep thinking of her map since the British soldiers seem to know where to go anyway. She assumed they were there to escort the American soldiers to the base in Italy, but she couldn’t be sure. 

 

She wasn’t really interested.

 

As long as it was confirmed they were, in fact, heading towards Italy, she didn’t have any desire to ask questions. Her mind remained alert, ears straining to hear the slightest snap of a tree branch anywhere near their vicinity. Of course it was slightly more difficult and progressively annoying since the soldiers walking were almost uncaring and practically stomping along.

 

Lucy walked at a pace quicker than Timothy, who was leading the group, wanting to avoid any conversation with the British Major. He was currently listed as a threat in her mind because he was tall and from a physical analysis he could be a possibly foreboding opponent. There was no need to talk with him at the moment, so she kept at the front of the group. Her thighs were burning from the amount of strain she’d put on them by sprinting with no break, but, the pain was something she could handle- socializing with people she wasn’t comfortable with wasn’t something she could. And unfortunately for her, she’d spotted Robert Allen amongst the soldiers and she really didn’t need to be bullied by an incompetent man.

 

She knew James was tired from walking prior, but he was doing an excellent job keeping up with her pace, managing not to sound out of breath. 

 

“If you don’t mind me asking-“ James started and Lucy lifted her head, glancing at him, “-why are you planning to go to Italy?”

 

She tried not to drop her smile.

 

“A few days after you left,” she said with a slow breath, “I was attacked in my apartment.”

 

A look of surprise flickered between James’s eyes and Lucy continued.

 

“The people who attacked were Nazi spies. I ended up getting a mild wound and got help from my doctor.” She paused, shrugging. “He was more of a mentor and friend then a doctor, but well- he- anyway, he helped. But that uh- he got under their radar- the Nazi’s and he uh- this morning he-“

 

She swallowed thickly, words clumping together as her hands grew clammy.

 

She tried to breathe.

 

“-he was killed by them.”

 

James opened his mouth, then closed it. His brows furrowed with concern, and Lucy looked away as a moment of silence settled between them. 

 

She let her eyes remain on the path in front of them, waiting for James to say something.

 

“I’m. . .I know this doesn’t mean much, and it’s not gonna change anythin’, but I’m sorry for your loss.” He said respectfully, and Lucy shifted her gaze to him.

 

“Thanks.” She said half-heartedly, before looking away.

 

They took a few more steps before James cleared his throat.

 

“Is that why you’re going to Italy?” He shook his head. “I mean, if I were you I’d be- I’d want to-“

 

He pretended to punch something with both of his hands, and Lucy raised an eyebrow- James awkwardly dropped his hands to his pockets.

 

“I’d want to, I dunno, beat them up. Or worse, if it got to that. So. . .” He trailed off.

 

She stared at him, before sighing.

 

“When he was dead. . .when he was bleeding out and he was- he was dead and I knew it because I couldn’t feel his heartbeat, I was so angry I wanted to kill them. The agents, the Nazi’s, the soldiers. Just- all of them. I wanted to.” She let out a long breath, frowning deeply.

 

Peggy had been right- she’d been so overwhelmingly angry she wanted to kill the agents on sight- she just hadn’t wanted to admit it with words. Even though she usually did become a frozen blubbering mess from emotionally malfunctioning, she sure as hell would have ripped apart the nearest Nazi soldier if their had been any.

 

“And you could.” James nodded in understanding. “Since I have sparred with you.”

 

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Honestly, I only left those matches with a few bruises because you allowed it. If you were my enemy I’d probably be dead.” James continued.

 

Her lips twitched upwards with amusement, and James glanced at her with a curious look.

 

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” She said slowly and James winked.

 

“As you should.” He replied.

 

Lucy shook her head with a small laugh.

 

“Anyway, I thought about it. You know, getting all that revenge. But. . .when I really thought about it, I knew nothing I could do would bring Abraham back. The only difference it would make is add to the amount of blood already on my han-“ she cut herself off abruptly, failing to stop the words slipping from her lips.

 

James blinked at her and she gnawed on the inside of her cheek. She cleared her throat awkwardly, fiddling with the straps of her backpack.

 

There was no possible way James missed her words, and he’d be curious as to what she meant- and then he’d ask. She inwardly flinched, knowing the question would be unavoidable and ultimately something she couldn’t answer. It’d be awkward and suspicious and detrimental towards her friendship with him- after all, who would want to be friends with a murderer?

 

“It’d weigh on your conscience, huh?” James provided nonchalantly. “Taking somebody’s life. Doin’ what we’ve gotta do soon. Fighting’ a war in a city.”

 

Lucy had to take a moment to process what he’d said, because he’d completely ignored the odd ending of her sentence. She blinked several times and James frowned slightly.

 

“Or not?” He added questioningly.

 

Lucy shook her head.

 

“No no, you. . .yeah. It would weigh on my conscience.” She looked away.

 

James hummed, nodding at her statement as he carefully walked over a long branch in the middle of their path. Lucy followed suit with the motion as they continued hiking.

 

“How’s Steve?” He asked.

 

Lucy inwardly groaned at the question- she really wanted to avoid the question, but it was reasonable for him to be worried about Steve. Unluckily for her, Steve was the biggest self-sacrificing idiot she’d probably ever met, willingly signing up for an experiment- a government experiment for God’s sake. She hadn’t done a great job protecting Steve but it wasn’t exactly her choice and she didn’t want to be particularly controlling, not that she knew what level of taking care of friends would become motherly. Having a normal friendship was not possible for her because she didn’t know what that even meant. 

 

For the situation at hand, she was, in fact, prepared for the question James had asked, and she wasn’t going to tell James the full truth- she’d tell him just enough. 

 

“Steve. . .was accepted into the army after you left.” She said hesitantly, watching James’s expression carefully. “And he’s in basic training, but he’s probably never going to be in the frontlines, so. . .he should be safe.”

 

Lucy hadn’t missed the moment senator Brandt signed Steve up as an icon and symbol- Mr. Captain America!- and she vaguely felt bad for Steve, who probably thought being a showgirl was better than nothing. Maybe to Steve it was, but to her, it sure as hell wasn’t.

 

James was frozen still for a moment, before his hands clenched into fists, letting out a long frustrated breath through his nose.

 

“Somebody needs to punch him, and I feel like that somebody is gonna be me.” James huffed with frustration. 

 

Lucy let her shoulders relax, glad his reaction wasn’t as explosive as she thought it would be- then again this was James-who-falls-asleep-after-getting-drunk-James, so she probably shouldn't have expected him to lash out at all.

 

The pair grew silent as they trudged along, and Lucy was appreciative of the absence of conversation as she focused on keeping any dangers away from the group, especially with the predators living alongside them.

 

They walked nonstop for a few hours or so, and Lucy could hear the out-of-breath soldiers mumbling amongst themselves, either complaining or wanting to take a break. None of them seemed to have the guts to ask Timothy or James, so they kept on. A half an hour passed before someone finally collapsed into the dirt, laying on the ground with a relieved sigh.

 

Lucy could sympathize with the soldier, because her legs were aching as well, though her physical endurance was inhumanly strong. 

 

The group came to a stop as Timothy moved to check the man over, before calling for a break.

 

“We’ll camp here tonight.” He said in an orderly fashion. 

 

Lucy unclasped the strap of her backpack, tugging it off of her shoulders and letting it drop in the dirt. She stretched her arms, letting out a small yawn, and James chuckled at her. She rolled her eyes at him light-heartedly as he removed his military-grade backpack, and promptly sat on top of it.

 

“I feel like my legs are going to fall off.” James groaned, and Lucy laughed, shaking her head.

 

“I’m sure everyone feels like that right now.” She said.

 

James turned his head to look at her, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“Oh yeah? You look fine!” He whined and Lucy raised an incredulous eyebrow.

 

She slowly and painstakingly dropped to one knee, then crossed her legs over each other as she sat down pretzel-style in the dirt. 

 

“Looking fine and being fine are two very different things.” She huffed. 

 

James rolled his eyes, wiping sweat off his brow.

 

Lucy grabbed her backpack and zipped it open, pulling a canteen of water. She glanced back at the other soldiers who were removing tents and sleeping bags from their backpack, setting up camp like Timothy had instructed. Lucy turned back to James, who was still sitting atop his backpack, eyes closed. 

 

He opened his eyes and looked up at her when he noticed she was watching him. 

 

Lucy stared at him calculatingly, making a decision before she turned to her backpack and carefully grabbed her bottle of pills, keeping them inside her bag as she grabbed three. She closed the cap, glanced at James, then turned her head and placed the pills in her mouth. She swallowed a long sip of water, letting the pills slide down her throat. She felt her heart hammer in her chest, energy replenishing as poison seeped into her system. 

 

She closed her canteen and tossed it back in her bag, zipping her backpack closed.

 

“James,” she said as she stood up, “are you going to sleep like that?”

 

He yawned, blinking a few times as he looked up from his seated position.

 

“Nope.” He said, slowly standing up and stretching.

 

Lucy shook her head at his antics as he unzipped his backpack and started setting up his single man tent, along with his small sleeping bag. She helped put the tent on its feet, and kept the flap open as he pushed the sleeping bag inside. He dusted his hands off and he leaned back to get a good look at his sleeping arrangement.

 

“It’s not exactly a five-star hotel.” Lucy said and James chuckled.

 

“No, it’s not.” He smiled.

 

Lucy stepped back towards her backpack and plopped down on the ground, leaning her head against the bag like a pillow. James followed her, frowning at the sight.

 

“Where’s your one-star hotel room?” He asked, and Lucy blinked.

 

It took a moment for her brain to register the concern in his voice, and she offered him a reassuring smile. 

 

“I’ll be fine James.” She said.

 

She caught a whiff of smoke, and glanced back to see a fire being lit at the center of their camp. James followed her gaze and she poked him with her boot.

 

“Go cook your MRE, or sleep. You’ll need the energy for tomorrow.” She waved him towards the fire.

 

“So will you.” He said pointedly.

 

Lucy shut her eyes, politely ignoring him as he stood besides her. After a few seconds she felt James leave and she rubbed her eyes to keep herself awake. Falling asleep meant she could wake up disoriented and promptly forget where she was. Of course, sleep would be inevitable in a few days, but by then she’d be exhausted and dreams would be nonexistent. 

 

The scent of cooked food and metallic cans reached her nose but she didn’t require sustenance and she didn’t need to “enjoy life” at the moment, so she let her eyes flicker across the dark sky.

 

James almost gave her a heart attack when he came back into view.

 

She sat up when he shoved a cooked MRE in her hands. 

 

“Wait- James- I don’t-“ she started and he shot her a no-nonsense look Peggy often gave her. 

 

She sighed as she looked down at the can in her hand. James sat across from her with his own MRE container, putting his plate in the dirt. She looked at him, and he stared at her patiently.

 

“If you don’t eat, I’m not eating.” He claimed.

 

She raised an eyebrow and he copied the motion. 

 

“I’m very good at playing the waiting game.” He said. “Steve is my best friend.”

 

Knowing Steve was the most stubborn person on the planet, she decided it wasn’t worth making James suffer as she scooped a spoonful of the food and placed it in her mouth. She chewed on a few bits of meat and carrots, along with some peas. James immediately grabbed his own can and started eating as well. 

 

She scraped the edges of the can by the time she finished eating it, and was thoroughly surprised by how hungry she’d actually been.

 

“See? You need food in your system.” He paused. “And a tent, or at least a sleepin’ bag. Why don’t you have either?”

 

Lucy shook her head.

 

“I don’t need one.” She frowned. “I’ve slept in worse places.”

 

James stared at her.

 

“I’m going to not think about what place could be worse than the floor,” he started, “but. . .okay, just. . .don’t get eaten?”

 

Lucy laughed.

 

“I won’t. Now get your ass in bed, Blue-eyes.” She said, waving him away.

 

He still looked mildly concerned but he turned on his heel and crawled into his tent, zipping the front flap closed. 

 

She tilted her head back to examine the other soldiers, who were disappearing into their tents, one by one. Lucy stood up, dusting off the dirt on her pants as she approached Timothy who was sitting at the fire, clearly ready for first watch.

 

“Timothy.” She called, causing the man to turn and look at her. “I can take first watch.” 

 

Timothy frowned slightly, and she put her hands on her hips.

 

“We probably won’t get ambushed out here, but if we do, I’ll handle it.” She said nonchalantly. “You should get some rest.”

 

He examined her for a few long seconds before nodding thankfully.

 

“James has second watch, then Robert.” He informed.

 

Lucy nodded in understanding, smiling softly as he turned and entered his own tent.

 

She waited for most of the soldiers to fall asleep, before she hesitantly activated her abilities. When she felt no pain or discomfort, she raised her hand, palm open, twisting her wrist and fingers inward. She furrowed her eyebrows with confusion as wisps of smoky yet crackly energy encased her fingertips. 

 

The flame of the campfire slowly died down, disappearing completely as Lucy examined her hand. 

 

She waved her hand in the air and the white buzzing wisps slowly dissipated. She breathed deeply, eyes flickering across the campsite as she deactivated her abilities and shoved her hand into her pockets. Her heart pounded in her chest because-

 

“What the absolute hell.” She muttered.

 

Chapter 27: Twenty Six

"We are all pieces on a chess board. Knock some off and it doesn’t matter.”

Pasiano di Pordenone, Italy

August, 1943

ITALY WAS MORE ROMANESQUE then Lucy had imagined, not that she’d complain. The architecture was beautiful in more ways than one, and a part of her felt as though she’d travelled back in time. She let her eyes flick across hundreds of windows and doors before she turned to look ahead of her. In her peripheral vision she could see James chewing on a protein bar. To the left of her was Timothy, who she’d gotten used to calling Dum Dum. 

 

Over the few months it took to arrive in Italy, Dum Dum had made it a personal mission to get to know Lucy. It puzzled her for a few weeks- maybe even an entire month- until she realized Dum Dum was trying his best to be her friend. She admitted it took her way too long to realize, and might’ve been a little embarrassed. Then again, she was a bit rusty on social cues- it’s what happens when you get captured by supremacist assholes and refined to a base- so, at least she had a good reason for being awkward.

 

Their heavy tactical gear was gone, replaced by casual clothes that were a thousand times more comfortable then the buckles and backpacks once attached to their backs. Lucy shoved her hands in her pockets as the three of them continued towards their destination- a small bar near their military base they’d left a few minutes ago. Supposedly it was used as an op’s base for soldiers and pretty safe.

 

Lucy wasn’t overly interested in drinking, but it was Dum Dum’s fantastic idea to get a pack of beers, and James’s brilliant decision to drag Lucy along. 

 

She wasn’t sure how to slowly branch away from the military and find an apartment a few miles from here. It should’ve been simple but she had one problem: James.

 

James had been antsy as soon as they arrived, always sending her side glances and fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. It was as if he was scared of what she’d say, so saying “goodbye” was a lot harder than she thought.

 

“Whiskey or rum?” Dum Dum questioned.

 

“None.”

 

“Both.”

 

Lucy and James spoke at the same time. 

 

James raised an eyebrow and Lucy shook her head. 

 

“Should all of you really be drinking tonight?” She asked with a pointed look. 

 

Since the 107th division had touched down only a few days ago, the Colonel was yet to send them on a particularly life-threatening mission- they weren’t in dire need of another company anyway. That didn’t make Lucy any less paranoid by the amount of HYDRA agents that could be hiding, well, everywhere.

 

Dum Dum raised an eyebrow.

 

“Yes.” He said to her bluntly, before tilting his head at James. “And no, Rum is phenomenally better.”

 

James gazed at him with amusement, as if the statement was laughable. Dum Dum stared at him challengingly and Lucy ran a hand through her hair as she shoved both of her elbows into their sides. The pair groaned in pain, massaging their assaulted sides.

 

“You don’t need to have a staring contest. Again.” She huffed. “I swear the two of you have a staring problem.”

 

Dum Dum rolled his eyes light-heartedly and James pouted, grimacing as he rubbed his side. Lucy grabbed both of their arms as they almost passed the bar. Dum Dum shot her a thankful smile while James grumbled about her bony elbows. She pushed open the door innocently, completely forgetting how common smoking was within pubs and bars alike. The smell of tobacco burst from within. 

 

It was the smell of Dr. Schaffer with a cigarette balanced between his lips; of cells, dark hallways, isolation chambers. It was the pungent scent of blood and metal, taking the air out of her lungs and reducing her throat to nothing but burnt flesh.

 

It wasn’t like Lucy had completely evaded the smell- some members of the 107th smoked like madmen- but it hadn’t been surprising nor so strong.

 

She winced, taking a sharp step back, and colliding into James.

 

He caught her easily, surprise and confusion flickering over his face. 

 

She covered her nose with her sleeve, resisting the urge to use her abilities.

 

Her hands would envelope with energy and that would be the most inhuman thing to ever do. Besides, she barely had enough time to use IV drips and last time she’d administered one was weeks ago, whilst everyone was asleep. She’d almost gotten caught by Dum Dum, so she hadn’t exactly had the time to use another one.

 

James helped her to her feet as Dum Dum looked at her with concern.

 

“You alright?” He asked.

 

Lucy replied by pressing her lips into a thin smile, leaning against the brick wall behind her. She shut her eyes and felt her surroundings change- as if she was reappearing within her HYDRA cell. 

 

“We‘ll wait out here, Dum Dum.” James said and Dum Dum looked Lucy over once before nodding at him and entering the bar.

 

The door shut behind him with a click and Lucy heard the sounds of more locks clicking, one by one by one, until all nine- or was it six? Or five? Maybe it was four. She couldn’t remember which array of cells they’d decided to put her in but their must’ve been a window because she could hear the sound of streets and-

 

She frowned deeply, rubbing fabric between her fingertips- a fabric that most definitely wasn’t HYDRA grade. Her hands gripped tightly to it, noting it’s soft and cottony texture. She snapped her eyes open, realizing her hand was holding someone’s shirt. Was it a guard? A doctor? Someone completely different?

 

She let go immediately, her breath uneven, sharp, and painful. She placed a hand over the place her heart would’ve been, feeling the palpitations as she tried to breathe.

 

“Hey, Lu, hey.” A familiar voice said in a firm but reassuring tone. “I need you to count with me. Inhale, one, two, three. Hold. Now exhale.”

 

Lucy followed the orders- because that’s what they were and she had to listen to them, or else the hand gently holding her arm would no longer be gentle- and air started to enter her lungs. 

 

“There you go. Alright, Lu, now I need you to look at me.” The voice- the voice that belonged to James spoke.

 

Lucy rubbed her eyes with one hand, looking up to catch sight of brilliant blue eyes. James’s lips were pressed into a small frown, his eyebrows drawn together with concern. She let out a long sigh, dropping her gaze and lowering herself to the ground. 

 

James moved to sit besides her, and he cleared his throat.

 

“Better?” He asked softly.

 

She clasped her hands together, squeezing her fingers tightly.

 

“Yeah.” She swallowed thickly. “Thanks. I um. . .that. . .hasn’t happened in awhile.”

 

James shook his head.

 

“We’ve all got our problems.” He said with an understanding smile. “It’s okay. Besides, Steve used to be worse, with his asthma and all that. Had to save him with breathing exercises.”

 

Lucy nodded as James looked ahead with that worried look he got whenever Steve came up. She ran a hand through her hair, breathing deeply. She missed Peggy with her whole being, and a part of her wished she hadn’t left. But- 

 

Her gaze shifted to James as he fiddled with his fingers.

 

She really was fond of James, maybe even more so than Peggy.

 

“I take it the both of you are just moping now?”

 

The pair lifted their heads as Dum Dum stood in front of them, four packs of beers stacked in his hands. He sounded both hopeful and light-hearted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. James stood, patting faux dirt off his pants and holding a hand out towards Lucy. She grasped it firmly, pulling herself to her feet and taking one of the packs from Dum Dum.

 

“Thanks, I felt like my arms were falling off.” He whined, exaggeratedly wiggling his arm.

 

Lucy’s lips twitched upwards with amusement and James let out a small laugh. 

 

“I wonder how you can hold a rifle if you claim to have stick-ly arms.” James teased.

 

Dum Dum pouted as they started tracing back their footsteps, hiking towards the military base once again.

 

A few minutes of silence passed and Lucy lost herself between the walls of towering buildings, habitually sizing up strangers. A woman walked past them and Lucy noted how easily she could slam her against the wall and effectively twist her neck. She shook her head, trying to shake the thought away. 

 

“So um- what was that about?” Dum Dum asked gently. “Back there?”

 

James elbowed him in the side, brows furrowing as he shook his head. Dum Dum mouthed an apology as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly with his left hand. 

 

Lucy wasn’t sure if she minded or not as she adjusted her grip on the beers. It was funny to see James notice Dum Dum’s momentary insensitiveness, though she would just call it curiosity.

 

“I-“ she sighed anxiously, unsure of telling the truth,“-I’m kind of afraid of cigarettes.”

 

She glanced at Dum Dum to see his reaction. 

 

He blinked.

 

She looked back at James, who only furrowed his eyebrows with confusion.

 

“The smell?” James asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 

 

She nodded and Dum Dum seemed to comprehend something though she was sure it was nothing near the truth. He shot her an apologetic look and she waved her hand, dismissing the subject. 

 

From there it grew awkwardly silent, and James tried his best to brew a conversation. Lucy walked a few steps behind them as the two entered a conversation of politics and the differences between the countries. When the topic of Germany’s corruption came up, Lucy politely pulled away from the pair and let her thoughts roam free.

 

It only took ten minutes or so to arrive at the military base, and Lucy found herself surrounded by obnoxious soldier’s drinking their hearts away. Dum Dum was downing a whole bottle at once, soldiers cheering him on as he did so. James was sitting up against the wall besides a comrade, observing the rest of his friends with a grin on his face.

 

Lucy leaned against the doorway, eyes roaming across the room for a few seconds, before slowly backing away. She turned on her heel and exited the male barracks, walking a few paces to enter the small women’s barrack. There were two other women, one asleep, and the other reading a book.

 

She glanced up at Lucy when she entered, then looked back at her book, turning the page. 

 

Lucy walked to her designated bed and grabbed her backpack, pulling it over her shoulders. She pushed her feet into combat boots, folding the sheets and mattress over. 

 

The woman reading her book paused.

 

“Are you leaving?” She asked.

 

Lucy tilted her head back, stared at her in silence, then stepped through the door frame and left. 

 

She neared the back exit of the camp, forest trees surrounding her. She took a few steps before she felt the hairs on her neck stand up. She didn’t slow in her steps, instead eyeing the tree line and the barracks she’d just left. A shadowy figure appeared to the left of her and he stalked forwards with his arms placed sassily on his hips- she’d recognize that form anywhere, especially when he did the same motion whenever she was being stubborn.

 

“James.” She said with a curt nod.

 

He frowned, moving his arms to cross them.

 

“Lucy.” He said, his eyes flitting to her backpack. “You’re leaving.”

 

It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

 

“Yes.” She paused. “I am.”

 

James took a step forward, so they were just a foot apart. She breathed deeply and turned to face him fully.

 

“I told you I’d follow the 107th until we reached Italy.” She said quietly, almost as if to justify her actions, not that she needed to.

 

“I know.” He replied. “I just didn’t expect you to leave like this.”

 

Lucy breathed deeply.

 

“I’m sorry James.” She said honestly. “I didn’t know how to say goodbye.”

 

James pursed his lips, eyebrows drawing together.

 

“So you decided not to say goodbye at all?” He asked not unkindly. 

 

She dropped her gaze, feeling a bit of guilt settle on her shoulders. 

 

“James-“

 

He took another step forward and grasped her hands gently.

 

Lucy blinked at the gesture, looking down at their joined hands. She breathed softly as James gazed at her with more feelings than one. “Cause I love you.”  James had said, and Lucy couldn’t help but believe he hadn’t simply said it because of the alcohol. 

 

“Stay.” He muttered, closing his eyes. “It’s selfish an’ stupid an’ I shouldn’ be askin’ this, but-”

 

She tilted her head.

 

“James.” She started again. “You don’t know what I’ve done. These people who are hunting me are hunting me for a reason I can’t say, but I’d only be putting you and those men in danger. I can’t-“

 

James opened his eyes, a flash of vibrant blue, ocean-like in every way possible. 

 

He shook his head fiercely.

 

“And let you be out there? Alone?! What if they find you and for once you can’t take them all?” He pressed.

 

“I can-“ she interrupted.

 

James had no idea what she was capable of, what she could do to someone. 

 

He lifted his gaze, squeezing her hands gently.

 

“I know you can protect yourself. I do.” He said earnestly. “But you’re talkin’ like-like you’re the Ring or something, and everyone’s trying to find you.”

 

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows with confusion and James blinked, before his cheeks tinted red with embarrassment. He cleared his throat.

 

“It’s from a book I read. The Hobbit.” He shook his head. “Lu, you have to realize even you can’t fight an army of people at once.”

 

His eyes flickered with deep-rooted concern, and Lucy gnawed in the inside of her cheek. This is why she had decided not to tell him- yet here he was, standing in front of her with those doe-like eyes. 

 

It wasn’t a matter of staying because she wanted to; she had to leave. She needed to keep the 107th far from HYDRA’s radar because James, and now Dum Dum were there. If anything they were already under their radar because they were American military. If word spread that she was there- that she’d been sighted- then there’d be a rabid chase and a massacre. 

 

If she left they’d be safer, but not completely safe from the blood of war. Lucy wouldn’t be able to shield them from all dangers but she’d be able to shield them enough if she was gone.

 

And she’d be amongst civilization, amongst oblivious people, and the last place HYDRA would expect her to be. They would know by now she’d left America under the guise of an agent, and they’d expect her to be on the frontlines. 

 

Right?

 

Unless Dr. Schaffer was behind the retrieval plans. The doctor knew her through and through, like a flat piece of glass that did nothing to warp her reflection. 

 

“Just think about it.” James said, gently letting go of her hands. “Do you think we will be safer without you? You’re the best fighter I’ve seen and one hell of a woman with a gun. We’d probably have been sniped multiple times if not for you. If you leave we won’t be any safer then we had been with you.”

 

She pursed her lips but James wasn’t done.

 

“I know Robert’s an absolute ass and some of the other guys think less of you cause they’re sexist, or racist, but the 107th need you. Dum Dum does, and so do I.” He inhaled deeply. “If you’re trying to keep us safe by leaving, it’s not gonna do much. But if you’re leavin’ to keep yourself safe, then. . .”

 

His gaze dropped and he swallowed thickly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he did so. It took him a few seconds for him to continue.

 

“Don’t get caught. Please. I can’t- I can’t lose you.” He breathed.

 

Lucy had been sure she was leaving to keep James safe, not herself. HYDRA followed her wherever she went- she knew- and she’d have to move again sooner or later. But she’d never thought leaving the 107th would possibly put them in more danger. 

 

She adjusted the strap over her shoulder.

 

“You don’t know what I can do.” She muttered again.

 

“Then tell me.” He said softly. “Tell me and we can help you.”

 

Lucy pressed her lips into a thin line.

 

“I’m afraid you can’t do much James.” She paused, hesitating. “Do you really think the 107th would be safer with- with me?”

 

James nodded vigorously.

 

“Yes. And I’m talking for all of us cause I know some of us would be dead.” He said.

 

If the dangers were the same, then did it really matter? If she left? She could choose to stay because it was something she wanted. 

 

Because she wanted to stay with James.

 

That didn’t get rid of the fact she would be fighting on the frontlines with an army, militant power that would be in constant danger. Dr. Schaffer had told stories of war before, how people who were your brothers killed like devils with no remorse. She also heard many of his comrades died and were mostly forgotten, their deaths nothing but tiny damage.

 

“James, someone once told me the military doesn’t care about collateral damage.” She started. “We’re all chess pieces on a board. Knock some off and it won’t matter.”

 

She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes.

 

“You okay with being those pieces?”

 

“Doesn’t matter if I’m with you.” He paused. “And Dum Dum’s stupid ass.”

 

Lucy’s lips tilted upwards into a smile. She stepped forwards, and walked a few paces past him.

 

“Come on, those men will drink all the booze.” She said.

 

He blinked, unmoving, and Lucy raised an eyebrow.

 

“Are we going back to the barracks or what?”

 

James’s face lit up like the sun and Lucy couldn’t help but think-

 

Maybe, maybe, staying would be worth it in the end.

 

Chapter 28: Twenty Seven

“Why blame the gun, when it is nothing but dead metal until it is used by the man who pulls the trigger?”

Azzano, Italy

October, 1943

THE FIRST THOUGHT THAT CROSSED Lucy’s mind as a bullet whizzed past her head was how goddamn idiotic the Colonel was for giving the higher-ups an okay to go through with this attack. She huffed, lowering herself into a large dugout trench as bullets continued to rain over them. The Germans had been waiting on top of the hill, letting bullet’s fly as soon as the regiment appeared. She twisted her body back over as she pulled the trigger to her M1911 pistol, eyes focusing on the next Nazi soldier. The bullet hit his knee and the man let out a cry as he crumpled to the ground. 

 

Lucy turned back around, breathing deeply as adrenaline coursed through her body, simmering beneath her skin. To the left of her was James, who was pressed against the dirt with a rifle in hand. To the right of her was Dum Dum, who was currently trying his best to keep his hat balanced on his head. 

 

She reloaded her pistol with ammo that’d been hooked around her waist as she shot two more soldiers pointing their guns in the general vicinity of them. She could see the moment the bullet tore through their shoulders, both men hitting the ground with a thud. 

 

A grenade exploded not too far from them and Lucy winced as her ears rang. The three of them flinched and ducked to avoid flying shrapnel, before resuming their quick-paced shooting.

 

“There's gotta be at least five more companies out there!” Dum Dum shouted over gunfire.

 

Lucy huffed as she shot another soldier.

 

“There aren’t any companies!” James snapped loudly, before turning to another soldier. “Tell them we need cover!”

 

The man lifted a box radio, showing the fried wires. He adjusted his helmet as he pointed his rifle at it.

 

“That might be tough!” He shouted.

 

The ground shook as more grenades went off and Dum Dum’s hat fell off as he ducked for cover. Lucy raised an eyebrow at him, slightly amused as she grabbed his hat and tossed it to him. He rolled his eyes and Lucy turned back, pulling the trigger to her pistol once again.

 

“Here they come!” James shouted as a barrage of German soldiers started to sprint downwards from the hill.

 

Lucy grimaced with distaste as Dum Dum adjusted his hat.

 

“I hate these guys.” He grumbled.

 

The three of them leaned against the trenches and continued to shoot. Lucy lined up her pistol to her target, and went to pull the trigger when her target disappeared in a blue cloud of electricity. 

 

“Look out!” Dum Dum shouted, but there were no bullets coming their way.

 

She blinked several times to see if she’d imagined what she’d seen. But, as she looked across the battlefield, she realized several other German soldiers were simply disappearing into blue energy. She narrowed her eyes, and felt her heart sink as she realized the soldiers weren’t disappearing, they were disintegrating.

 

“What the hell was that?” James grumbled.

 

The three of them slowly pulled themselves out of the trench, alongside the other soldiers of their regiment. 

 

Lucy swallowed thickly as the blue energy exploded across the field, hitting several more German soldiers. She let her eyes wander over the field as they tensely watched more and more soldiers disappear into nothing but air. 

 

That’s when she noticed the bigass tank staring them down.

 

“That looks. . .new.” Dum Dum said slowly as they watched the weapon move smoothly.

 

It climbed higher over the hill before the main gun slowly turned towards their general vicinity.

 

“Cause it’s not ours.” Lucy breathed just as James shouted- “Run!” 

 

Lucy turned on her heel and sprinted in the opposite direction with James and Dum Dum at her heels. She could see other people of the 107th and british regiment hurriedly sprint left and right while rushing forwards. She watched in horror as her comrades were hit with blue light and turned into nothing but fleshy dust. 

 

She shifted her gaze to look in front of her and she skidded to a stop as military men dressed completely in black stalked forwards with rifles that looked more like grenade launchers. James followed her gaze and stopped as well, grabbing Dum Dum’s arm. The three of them stood for a few seconds before James grabbed Lucy’s arm and dragged her to the left.

 

She pulled her arm out of his grip and tugged him backwards as a blue bullet slammed into the ground besides him. James froze completely, and Lucy grabbed Dum Dum’s arm before he could keep running. He looked at her like she was crazy and she pointed her hand towards the other people who were running outwards laterally. 

 

All of them were disintegrating..

 

“They’re killing the ones running.” Lucy said with a shaky breath as several more runners burst into blue energy. 

 

Dum Dum’s eyes widened and he instantly shouted to their comrades.

 

“Stop running!” He shouted, waving his arms towards a few soldiers who stopped and glanced back at him. “Stop running!” 

 

Dum Dum continued to shout, and other soldier’s started relaying the message. Lucy watched as a hundred soldiers or so grouped together hurriedly to avoid being killed- she faintly wondered if they even realized they were alive only because the enemy had different plans for them and that could never mean anything good.

 

The military men stalked closer, before dispersing around the group, like a semi circle as the tank drew closer towards them. They all had their weapons raised, but weren’t shooting, and Lucy wasn’t sure if that was worse. Lucy’s grip on James’s arm was firm as he snapped back to reality- he was overcoming the trauma of barely escaping death, not that Lucy had time to think about that.

 

Her heart palpitated in her chest and she could feel the panic burst from her body because she recognized their uniforms.

 

“James, Dum Dum.” She started, her voice quiet and low. “You’re not my friends. You only know me as a comrade. Got it?”

 

The pair looked at her with confusion and James placed a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Lucy what-?” He started and she shrugged his hand off her arm.

 

She looked at him with a serious gaze and he swallowed thickly as he lowered his hand.

 

She shifted her gaze back to the men circling them and she could see some of the soldiers besides them gripping their weapons tightly. She could faintly see the sea of HYDRA agents open slightly to reveal another man wearing a colonel’s uniform. Lucy faintly recognized his face, though the memory was far back in her mind. If the man recognized her, there was a faint chance they’d treat the soldiers better.

 

But she’d only seen him for a short time, and there was a possibility this would all backlash. 

 

“Drop your weapons, or die!” The Nazi Colonel shouted with a thick German accent.

 

His voice was just as she’d remembered, his once nervous and almost unsure voice somehow sounding firm. The soldiers around her slowly lowered their weapons, and Lucy hooked her pistol back into her holster as her eyes flitted across the men. She inhaled deeply before pushing forwards through the crowd.

 

“Lucy!” Dum Dum whisper-shouted as other soldiers faintly grumbled.

 

She felt James and Dum Dum follow behind her and tried her best to ignore their presence. When she finally made it to the front of the crowd, the HYDRA Colonel was staring at them with a raised eyebrow. His eyes shifted to her and he narrowed his eyes for a moment before letting his lips spread from ear to ear. Recognition flashed across his face and Lucy forced a thin-lipped smile.

 

“Hallo, Sergeant Lohmer.”

 

Hello, Sergeant Lohmer.

 

She greeted calmly.

 

He scowled deeply, taking a step forward.

 

“Es ist Colonel Lohmer, Soldat.”

 

It’s Colonel Lohmer, Soldier.

 

He snapped, and Lucy blinked.

 

She felt the American soldiers shuffle back and forth on their feet, looking at her with confusion and subtle suspicion. She breathed softly and examined Colonel Lohmer.

 

“I’m sorry, Colonel,” she said evenly in English, before smiling pleasantly, “may I ask why you’re here?”

 

Colonel Lohmer stared at her for a moment before barking out a laugh. She felt James stiffen behind her and she shifted slightly, attempting to kick dirt at him. When the Colonel stopped laughing he suddenly lifted his hand, attempting to backhand her across the face.

 

Lucy grabbed his wrist fiercely before his hand could connect with her cheek, and Colonel Lohmer clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes at her.

 

It was silent for a tense second before she spoke, eyes alight with fire.

 

“Der Verfall Soldat kann nur von Ihrem Handler bestraft werden.” 

 

The Verfall Soldat can only be punished by it’s handler.

 

She snapped harshly, her grip on his wrist tightening before loosening. She let go of his wrist and lowered her hand to her side. 

 

Colonel Lohmer frowned but didn’t try to hit her again.

 

“May I ask you something else?” She asked again.

 

Colonel Lohmer tilted his head curiously.

 

She looked back at the soldiers, eyes flickering across the men who frowned suspiciously at her. She felt her heart twist in her chest when James looked at her with a similar expression. She turned away, looking back at Colonel Lohmer.

 

“What are you planning to do with the Americans?” She asked.

 

Colonel Lohmer’s lips curled into a cruel smirk and Lucy’s felt her heart drop.

 

“These men,” he spat as he strolled back and forth across the group, “will build for HYDRA and work for HYDRA. They are prisoners, aren’t they?”

 

Lucy clenched her jaw and James took a step forward behind her.

 

“Why the hell would we work for you?” He snarled.

 

Lucy inwardly cringed as Colonel Lohmer stopped, twisting on his heel to approach James. He stalked forwards and Lucy stiffened as he raised his fist. She gritted her teeth as Colonel Lohmer punched him hard across the face. Only, his fist remained a few millimeters in front of James’s nose, his hand covered in translucent white energy that crackled and buzzed.

 

Colonel Lohmer scoffed, tilting his head back to stare at her. 

 

She stepped back from him as she held one hand in the air, palm facing Colonel Lohmer with her fingers slightly raised. Energy rippled over her hand, a bright white hue covering her fingertips. 

 

“What the hell?” She heard Dum Dum and a few other soldiers mutter. 

 

Lucy paid them no attention.

 

“I heard Dr. Schaffer’s been looking for me.” She said conversationally. 

 

Colonel Lohmer glared, and Lucy shifted her hand, moving his fist and forcing his arm to lower to his side. The energy around her hand slowly dissipated and she lowered her hand.

 

“He is your friend.” Colonel Lohmer said instead, pointing his hand at James and ignoring her statement. 

 

Lucy blinked.

 

“The Verfall Soldier is not capable of retaining relationships between persons.” She said simply. 

 

Colonel Lohmer looked at her disbelievingly as he waved the hand Lucy had encased with energy, shaking it as if he had felt the energy. He hummed as he chose his next words.

 

“Do you think it’s time to come home?” He said slowly.

 

Lucy inhaled deeply.

 

“Do not lay a hand on my comrades.” She said firmly. “And I will come with you.”

 

Colonel Lohmer looked faintly amused, and Lucy wanted to slam her first into his face.

 

“You’re in no place to make demands, Verfall.” He smiled.

 

Lucy took a step forward, staring down at him as she shortened the small distance between them.

 

“You know what I am capable of. You’ve seen a man’s neck snap from the force of my hand. I can do just as much without lifting a finger. I can cause your men to implode.” She bared her teeth threateningly.

 

Colonel Lohmer stared at her for a few seconds, examining her expression with narrowed eyes. She returned the gesture and he slowly crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side.

 

“Then why haven’t you?” He questioned.

 

Lucy clenched her jaw.

 

Without the time to sit and wait for an IV drip to fully administer, Lucy’s abilities were drained, and half good at best. She probably couldn’t even kill one person, much less forty or fifty agents at once. In fact, it was a miracle she hadn’t gotten a bloody nose, or coughed up blood for that matter.

 

Colonel Lohmer’s lips twisted upwards.

 

“You can’t, can you?” He smirked. “And you never told these men what you can do, did you? Look around, do you think they will trust you now?”

 

She gnawed on the inside of her cheek as she twisted on her heel and glanced back at the soldiers. Their gazes were guarded, distrustful, and well, James just looked extremely bewildered- Dum Dum just didn’t seem to know what to think. She turned back to Colonel Lohmer, eyes cold. Colonel Lohmer looked satisfied by her expression and he turned to his agents.

 

“Reiht sie auf!”

 

Round them up!

 

He shouted.

 

The agents swarmed them, shoving soldiers into rows. Before they could be separated, James grabbed Lucy’s arm and pulled her back. They were pushed towards a loading truck, and her eyes flickered to the agent who moved to smash both of them with his gun. She let him meet her empty gaze and he swallowed thickly, lowering his gun slightly as he nervously shuffled on his feet. She climbed into the truck alongside James, and they stood with Robert and fifteen or so other soldiers. 

 

Twenty agents filed inside as well, all sitting on the sides of the truck with weapons drawn.

 

Lucy saw the fist before who it belonged to and she ducked, causing the man to catch his balance by turning on one foot and ultimately showing his face-

 

“So you were a fuckin’ Nazi.” Robert sneered.

 

Lucy breathed deeply, stepping back from him and running a hand over her face and through her hair. Her eyes flitted across each soldier, then the agents surrounding them before she snapped her head to the side.

 

“I’m not a Nazi.” She snarled. 

 

“Like shit you ain’t. How the hell do you know these people?” Robert retorted.

 

“Stop talking!” One of the agents ordered and Lucy snapped her head to the side to stare at him.

 

She glared distastefully at the man and he shrinks away slightly. She heard the truck start up in the front as Colonel Lohmer started to drive. She looked back at Robert before huffing and dropping to the floor, sitting cross-legged. 

 

James, who’d been silently watching the scene unfold, slowly joined her on the ground. 

 

Lucy covered her eyes with her hands as they watered with tears. She knew she’d have to see Dr. Schaffer again because she needed SBA and IV drips, and the time to administer them, but she hadn’t counted on seeing him this soon and she couldn’t even kill the agents in the truck to get them out and-

 

And when had she stopped breathing?

 

She gulped in fresh air as she tried to calm her palpitating heart, clenching and unclenching her hands into fists.

 

“Shit.” She muttered, and James stared at her for a moment, before scooting towards the other soldiers and turning to look the other direction.

 

Even though Lucy knew she’d told James to pretend like they weren’t close, it made her heart shatter into a hundred pieces- or so, maybe even more.

 

She tapped her fingers together in a two to three pattern, trying to clear her mind from any thoughts that contained Dr. Schaffer. Dr. Schaffer would be there and it’d be inevitable- she knew that in her soul- but her mind was yet to fully comprehend the possibility. Lucy didn’t know if he’d be angry- of course he’d be angry- but he would want to be kind just to toy with her mind and that. . .that was even worse. Anger was something she knew and understood, but kindness from a man who wasn’t supposed to give her kindness messed with her brain more than she’d like to admit. 

 

She didn’t know how much time passed when the truck slowed to a stop. Her pulse practically trampled over her heart with the speed it was going, and she had the urge to vomit. The back of the truck slammed open and Lucy instinctively observed the enormously tall ceiling of the garage they’d parked in. 

 

The agents who’d opened the door watched her silently as she climbed out of the truck, followed by the other soldiers who’d been with her. She felt James shuffle behind her as Colonel Lohmer stepped in front of the group, leading them towards a door and down a flight of stairs. 

 

They followed, though reluctantly, and Colonel Lohmer shouted at the other agents to divide the prisoners. Lucy flinched when James was slammed into one of the metal cages, before he was pushed inside. She avoided the agent's baton swiftly and entered the cell James was in.

 

Groups of soldiers continued to trickle into separate cells and Lucy was faintly alarmed by the amount of people they were keeping. She turned to look at her cell mates, avoiding James’s gaze as she looked between the four other men inside. They stared back at her tiredly, though their eyes were still bright with life. 

 

Dum Dum was shoved into their cell, door slamming shut behind him. Lucy caught him as he stumbled and he looked at her warily as he pulled away. He plopped onto the ground, sitting down in the cramped space as an agent locked their cell door.

 

She watched the agents lock all cell doors before disappearing down the main entrance and locking that door as well. She waited until their footsteps could no longer be heard before she turned to James, who’d sat down, and Dum Dum.

 

“Look-“ she started and Dum Dum frowned.

 

“Lucy what the-“ he started and her eyes flickered to the exit as she cut him off.

 

“I don’t know how much time we have before he comes here,” she said rapidly, “but I was a prisoner of war. These people are HYDRA. They experimented on me and tried to turn me into a weapon. It’s why I can do this.”

 

She lifted her hands and activated her abilities. That same wispy energy danced across her hands, before quickly dissipating. The four other people in their cell stared at her with wide eyes of horror and surprise. James’s confusion was replaced with concern, and Dum Dum looked completely lose. She opened her mouth to explain- perhaps a bit better- when she heard heavy footsteps, footsteps she could recognize because his heels always hit the ground harder than necessary and she just knew the sound.

 

She swallowed thickly as she shifted to sit on her knees, facing the cell entrance. 

 

“James, do you remember what I said at the swing club?” She said as the footsteps drew closer. “About my ballet instructor?”

 

James was silent for a few seconds.

 

“Yea, but what does that have to do with-?”

 

Lucy’s hands clenched into fists as she gripped her tactical pants.

 

“He wasn’t a ballet instructor. He was a scientist.” She muttered.

 

James drew in a sharp breath just as the door to the cell area opened. Lucy fell into old habits easily as she instinctively held her hands out, palm-open, to show she was holding nothing to injure him. Cold sweat trickled down her neck as she lowered her head submissively.

 

He started to whistle, and Lucy’s hands shook as he took a step closer, than another, and another. His dress shoes came into view and they clicked harshly against the ground, one last time as his feet faced Lucy. She didn’t lower her hands, and the tremors started traveling to her arms.

 

“Put your hands down, Ver.” He paused, sighing disappointedly. “You’re still doing that anytime someone walks into a room?”

Chapter 29: Twenty Eight

"I wish I could explain myself, but words escape me.”

Azzano, Italy

October, 1943

LUCY INHALED DEEPLY, HER EYES glued to his shoes as she lowered her hands to her knees, flattening them against her thighs and forcefully keeping them open. She waited for him to speak again but he said nothing. Instead, Lucy could feel him staring at her relentlessly, eyeing her like prey. Her heart started to beat faster than possible and she couldn’t breathe. She leaned one palm against the ground while the other clutched at her heart. She started to dry heave, and tears welled in her eyes as her airways filled with cement.

 

She was faintly aware of the bar door swinging open as two hands grabbed her forearms, dragging her out of the cell. He shut it behind her and locked it with a ring of keys. In her peripheral vision she could see James scoot forwards with concern, alongside Dum Dum as Dr. Schaffer sat on the floor bringing her into his chest. 

 

Lucy froze and the tremors traveling through her body came to a sudden stop. She could hear his heartbeat as clear as day as he gently patted her head, moving hair out of her face. She was hit with nostalgic memories of the times she’d done something right to make him happy.

 

“Atmen, Ver, atmen.”

 

Breath, Ver, breathe.

 

He said soothingly and Lucy grasped onto his lab coat, holding tightly, as if he’d disappear.

 

When her breathing pattern finally grew neutral Dr. Schaffer stood, and Lucy reluctantly let go of his lab coat as she leaned her hands against the ground. She pushed herself onto her feet and Dr. Schaffer stared at her before tilting his head.

 

“Auf Ihre Knie.”

 

On your knees.

 

He said sharply.

 

Lucy dropped to her knees so fast they cracked against the ground. She breathed deeply as pain exploded across her legs. She clasped her hands behind her back as Dr. Schaffer grabbed a lighter from his pocket, putting a cigarette between his teeth. He lit his cigarette, then grabbed Lucy roughly by the chin. 

 

She flinched as he blew smoke into her face, eyes growing watery and throat becoming unbearably scratchy. She started to cough, and Dr. Schaffer’s lips tilted upwards with satisfaction before he let go of her face. 

 

“Also-”

 

So-

 

Dr. Schaffer dropped his hand to his pistol and Lucy inwardly winced at the sight.

 

“-ließen Sie Agent Carter Sie mitnehmen, dann töteten Sie die Männer, die Sie nach Hause bringen wollten, dann beschlossen, der US-Armee beizutreten?”

 

-you let Agent Carter take you, then killed the men who wanted to bring you home, and then decided to join the US Army?

 

Lucy waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, she realized he wanted an answer. She licked her lips and hesitantly opened her mouth.

 

“Ja, Herr.”

 

Yes, sir.

 

She barely whispered the word when Dr. Schaffer slammed the pistol across her face. Her head snapped to the side and her jaw burned with pain. She slowly moved her head back to its original position, just as Dum Dum grabbed the cell bars, shaking them.

 

“Hey! Leave her the hell alone!” He shouted.

 

Lucy remained indifferent as Dr. Schaffer tilted his head, turning to face Dum Dum. She waited tensely for him to shoot him, but he simply glared instead. Dum Dum stopped shaking the cell bars, but he didn’t sit as James rose to stand besides him.

 

Dr. Schaffer turned away from them, fixing his gaze on Lucy.

 

“Denkst du, du könntest einfach so verschwinden?”

 

You didn’t think you could just walk away, did you?

 

He said calmly.

 

Lucy tried not to let her voice tremble as she clenched her fists.

 

“Nein, Herr.”

 

No, sir.

 

She muttered and Dr. Schaffer slammed his pistol against her left cheek. Her head snapped to the side again and she let out a silent groan of pain as she turned her head back to stare in front of her.

 

“Bist du dumm?” 

 

Are you dumb? 

 

He snapped.

 

“Nein. Du bust ein Genie. Also, warum zum Teufel dachtest du, ich würde dich nicht finden?”

 

No. You’re a genius. So why the hell did you think I wouldn't find you?

 

Lucy gritted her teeth, shaking her head. 

 

Dr. Schaffer pushed the barrel of his gun against the side of her head and she winced as the metal dug into her skin.

 

“Und keine Ausreden mehr!”

 

I don’t want to hear an excuse!

 

He snarled, pressing his finger against the trigger, as if he was tempted to pull it. 

 

But Lucy knew he wouldn’t, and she remained calm. Even if he did it was justified because he was her handler. She blinked, then cringed at the thought.

 

“Don’t!” James shouted from his cell.

 

Several other soldiers Lucy didn’t even know the names of shouted in alarm as well, and Dr. Schaffer growled with annoyance as he pulled the pistol away from her head. Lucy hesitantly lifted her eyes to meet his, and her heart plummeted to the floor at the uncontrollable rage roaring from eye to eye. 

 

She quickly dropped her gaze and Dr. Schaffer tilted his head.

 

“Du musstest nach Hause kommen.”

 

You had to come home.

 

He smirked, lifting his foot and kicking her hard in the stomach. She breathed sharply as his foot connected with her ribs, causing her to fall back slightly. She remained on her knees as he drew his foot back again.

 

“Weil Erskine tot ist.”

 

Because Erskine is dead.

 

He kicked her again and she let out a long steady breath.

 

She didn’t bother protecting herself because it’d only anger him more.

 

“Und Sie brauchen IV tropft so viel wie Sie Essen oder Wasser brauchen.”

 

And you need IV drips as much as you need food or water.

 

He sneered, his foot crashing into her stomach.

 

She coughed and crumpled forwards. 

 

“Sie haben eine Fehlfunktion, die über das hinausgeht, was möglich sein sollte.”

 

You have malfunctioned beyond what should be possible.

 

He sneered, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her to meet his gaze.

 

A low whimper escaped her throat and Dr. Schaffer wrapped his other hand around her neck. Lucy dug her nails into her palms to keep her hands clasped behind her back, resisting the urge to claw at his hand and get a taste of sweet air.

 

“Du bist ein Versager.”

 

You’re a failure.

 

Lucy’s shoulders dropped in defeat.

 

He scoffed at her reaction, unlocking the cell door and opening it with a clang. The men inside stepped as far back as possible. Lucy stumbled onto her feet as he roughly shoved her back into the cell. 

 

She hit the ground with a thud and winced as Dr. Schaffer pulled her hair. Fiery pain exploded across her scalp as he lifted her head. He blew smoke into her face again before pressing the butt of his cigarette against her lips. Her skin burned and tears welled in her eyes as he dropped the cigarette onto the floor, stomping and twisting his foot atop it aggressively.

 

“Zwing mich nicht, mich zu wiederholen - geh auf deine verdammten Knie.”

 

Don’t make me repeat myself- get on your damn knees.

 

He ordered.

 

She hurriedly pushed herself to her knees, hands clasping behind her back again. Dr. Schaffer narrowed his eyes at her and she felt her hands start to tremble again as she snapped her head to the side in a nervous tic.

 

“Ich möchte, dass du hier so sitzt und von dir selbst enttäuscht bist, weil du absolut nutzlos bist, wie du bist. Du bist nichts ohne das, was ich dir gegeben habe. Verstehst du?”

 

I want you to sit here and be disappointed in yourself because you’re absolutely useless the way you are. You’re nothing without what I’ve given you. Do you understand?

 

He said in an even tone.

 

Lucy winced at his words and focused on staring at the floor.

 

“Ja, Herr.”

 

Yes, sir.

 

She replied monotonously.

 

That seemed to please Dr. Schaffer as his grip on her hair loosened.

 

“Du wirst dich nicht aus dieser Position bewegen, und du wirst nicht einmal daran denken zu schlafen, bis ich zurückkomme.”

 

You will not move from this position, and you will not even think about sleeping until I return.

 

He continued, his voice suddenly calm, hand gentle. 

 

“Verstehst du?”

 

Do you understand?

 

Lucy nodded.

 

“Ja, Herr.”

 

Yes, sir.

 

She replied.

 

Dr. Schaffer examined her for a moment before grabbing her hair tie, which had been threatening to fall off her head. He held the object to her.

 

“Binden Sie Ihre Haare. Es ist ein Chaos.”

 

Tie your hair. It’s a mess.

 

He ordered indifferently.

 

She took the hair tie from his fingertips and pulled her hair back tightly, tying it back into a military style bun. She returned her hands to her lap, and waited for Dr. Schaffer to leave. 

 

He crouched down to her height, eyeing her as he gently pressed the palm of his hand against her cheek. The warmth of his hand was sudden and oddly comforting. She tried to remind herself he’d beat her as if she was less than an animal, but she leaned her head into his hand anyway because she missed him and she couldn’t understand why. 

 

“Sie brauchen Wartung, Ver. Ich bin jetzt hier.”

 

You need maintenance, Ver. 

 

He said softly. 

 

“Alles wird gut.”

 

It’ll be okay.

 

Lucy closed her eyes and Dr. Schaffer patted her cheek once before standing and leaving the cell. He shut the door softly and disappeared down the hall. He opened the main exit and shut the door with a click. Lucy could hear his footsteps echo before they disappeared completely.

 

She lifted her head and let her face grow expressionless as she clenched her hands into fists against her thighs.

 

She felt Dum Dum and James scoot closer to her. She shifted her gaze to them as she brought one hand to her face, massaging her jaw as if it would help.

 

“Lucy?” James whispered cautiously.“You okay?”

 

Everyone in the other cells were trying to watch her discreetly but it was blatantly obvious. She tried her best to ignore them as she dropped her hand back into her lap. 

 

“He was. . .nicer than I expected.” She whispered hoarsely. 

 

James sat to the left of her, leaning his back against the metal bars behind him. Dum Dum moved to the right of her as he looked at her with disbelief.

 

“That- that was nice?” He said incredulously. 

 

Lucy looked up at him with a half-hearted smile, before the expression slipped off her face. She pressed a finger to her lip, wiping blood from it.

 

Somebody cleared their throat and Lucy tilted her head back slightly to see the four other inmates sitting alongside the back wall. She twisted her torso to face them, but was careful to keep her legs in place, exactly where Dr. Schaffer had left her. 

 

“Hi.” One of them spoke up. “I’m Private James Morita. You can call me Jim. Also, that guy’s a dick to everyone here so, welcome to the club, I guess.”

 

Lucy blinked at his profanity, then put two and two together as she realized what he’d called Dr. Schaffer. She didn’t know whether to agree or be offended- or both- so she said nothing at the statement. 

 

Instead she waved at him in greeting. 

 

The man sitting besides him sat forwards, waving at her, James and Dum Dum.

 

“Jacques Dernier.” He said shortly, a thick French accent seeping through his voice.

 

Lucy nodded as the third person in line spoke up afterwards.

 

“Major James Montgomery Falsworth.” The man smiled politely.

 

“And I’m Private Gabe Jones.” He offered a hand towards Dum Dum who shook it gingerly.

 

Lucy clasped her hands together as she turned her head as best she could.

 

“My name is Lucy.” She said. “But HYDRA calls me the Verfall Soldat. . .Dr. Schaffer calls me Ver.”

 

“Decay Soldier?” Gabe translated with a questioning tone.

 

Lucy nodded, turning her head back to face the cell door, neck cramping slightly.

 

“The abilities I have- molecular manipulation- they uh- come in handy for that sorta thing.” She spoke warily, unsure of how the inmates would take her words.

 

They just nodded slowly with curiosity- she wondered if they were just respectful, or if they felt sympathy for the beating she’d received. She hoped it wasn’t the latter.

 

Dum Dum held his hand out towards the four men next.

 

“Major Timothy Dugan. Folks call me Dum Dum.” He introduced.

 

They all shook his hand before turning to James who leaned forwards to shake their hands as well.

 

“James Buchanan Barnes.” He said tiredly.

 

Dum Dum started to converse with them- asking mundane questions like where they were from, and what infantry they’d been captured from. Lucy was disinterested in the conversation and she prepared to dissociate by staring at the floor in front of her, but James scooted closer to her and started talking instead.

 

“You-“ James shook his head “-You’ve been keeping this all to yourself this whole time?”

 

He didn’t sound offended or judgemental- just seemed afraid for her. Lucy’s knees ached and she consciously made sure not to shift on her thighs as she nodded, wiping her hands on her pants.

 

“It’s why I didn’t want to be friends with you, James.” She muttered. “If they know, if they realize you’re important. . .”

 

Lucy trailed off, swallowing thickly.

 

“You can’t jump in to save my ass.” She said firmly.

 

James looked like he wanted to protest and Lucy stared at him with an unrelenting look.

 

“You’ll only be a mild annoyance, and Dr. Schaffer will order me to kill you.” She said seriously.

 

James searched her gaze, a deep frown on his lips.

 

“But you won’t, right?” He asked.

 

Lucy stared at the floor, noting the slight blemishes as she awkwardly wrung her wrists.

 

“I don’t know.” She whispered. “I don’t want to-“

 

She paused, eyebrows furrowing as her thoughts slowly muddled together.

 

“-but I don’t have wants because I’m not supposed to be a person so that shouldn’t matter and I can’t choose because I don’t have choices.” 

 

She looked at James who looked horrified by what she’d said. She sighed, rubbing blood off her face with the sleeve of her SSR uniform. His expression became apologetic for a moment before he tried to look more subtly horrified- it was a little better.

 

“And he danced with you?” James blurted, grimacing after he realized what he’d said.

 

Lucy was confused for a second before she realized what he was talking about.

 

“Oh.” She breathed. “Ballet is efficient for flexibility, balance and endurance training. So we danced. . .several times. It was an. . .enlightening experience.”

 

She turned her head to look in front of her when James cleared his throat.

 

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “For makin’ ya dance at the club. I didn’t- I didn’t know.”

 

She reached forwards and patted his shoulder.

 

“It’s okay. You had no idea. Besides it was actually kinda fun.” She huffed. “All of this- being your friend, Steve’s friend- I’m glad it happened, even if things are going back to what they used to be. For me.”

 

James tilted his head slightly, brows furrowing.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

She lifted her head so it was horizontal to the ground, back straight in perfect posture. She put her hands on her thighs, palm open, then found a spot on the ground to stare at. 

 

“The Verfall Soldier is a weapon, James.”

 

She clenched her jaw.

 

“I am incapable of being anything remotely human.” 

Chapter 30: Twenty Nine

"Soldier, keep on marching on.”

Azzano, Italy

October, 1943

 

SCHAFFER DID NOT RETURN throughout the night and Lucy fought to keep her eyes open. Her resilience to sleep had deteriorated over the years and she found it nearly impossible to not resist the drowsiness that weighed against her eyelids, which drooped heavily over her dull blue gaze. She forced her eyes to flutter open, knowing the punishment for disobeying a task was far more painful than losing just a night’s worth of sleep. But her legs had fallen numb and her arms were aching and it would feel so good just to curl on her side and lean her head against one of the cool metal bars and-

 

A shudder travelled down her spine as she shook her head fiercely, destroying the thoughts that’d bring the death of her comrades and blades to her skin. She blinked harshly, her eyes pressing into her skull for a moment. The sensation was enough to keep her awake for a few minutes at a time. So she consistently blinked with pain, pinching herself when that failed to keep her brain awake.

 

Hours ago, James had tried to coax her into sleeping. 

 

Or well, he’d asked if she was really going to listen to Dr. Schaffer’s orders and she’d replied with a blunt yes. It had taken her a few seconds to realize how easily she’d fallen into obeying the man and her face had paled. James had noticed, but he didn’t press the subject, instead leaning against the cell bars with a stubborn look.

 

Half way through the night Lucy realized James wasn’t sleeping- or at least wasn’t planning to sleep- because she wasn’t. He would shift every now and then, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. When James finally succumbed to sleep, Lucy didn’t know how much time had passed. What she did know was the fact she had started to get tired the moment James had fallen asleep, thus making it four or five hours. 

 

With familiar gray walls surrounding her, Lucy could no longer perceive time like she could’ve. 

 

So when footsteps echoed from the hall, just enough for her keen ears to hear, Lucy wasn’t sure if they were guards coming to wake the prisoners for “work”, or if it was someone else. The footsteps were far too light to belong to Dr. Schaffer but she straightened anyway, shifting slightly on her knees.

 

The prison door opened with a screech and several soldiers jumped awake at the sound. James was one of them, sitting up quickly with a frantic look. He blinked when he grew aware of his surroundings, letting out a small groan of realization.

 

Lucy’s eyes flicked to the side as the footsteps came to a stop in front of their cell. She tilted her head curiously, habitually wanting to lift her hands. She didn’t however, as he spoke. 

 

“Last I checked, ‘disappear’ does not mean ‘join the army’, the US army, no less.” 

 

His words were sharp and his German accent was more familiar than not- Lucy knew him well. She lifted her head, relief flooding her veins at the familiar circular glasses framing Dr. Zola’s icy blue eyes. 

 

He looked exactly the same- tufts of hair still clinging to his head, though the wrinkles around the bridge of his nose and his forehead was much more prominent than before. She wondered how much stress Johann Schmidt had put him under.

 

His gaze shifted to her cellmates observantly, and Lucy noticed her cellmates lean far away from him. His eyes landed on her again, lips tilting downwards into a frown.

 

“He made you sit here all night, didn’t he?” He asked, the sharpness in his tone fading.

 

Lucy grimaced.

 

“Of course. Doesn’t he always?” She muttered.

 

Dr. Zola adjusted his glasses, then cleared his throat.

 

“Stand.” He ordered.

 

Lucy leaned back off her knees, sitting on the ground as she massaged her numb feet. Dr. Zola waited patiently as she regained feeling in her legs, blood circulating far better than before. She pushed herself to her feet and immediately stumbled backwards. Dum Dum jumped forwards and caught her before she could hit the ground. A few murmurs of “are you alright?” echoed within her cell and Dr. Zola raised an eyebrow.

 

She nodded at Dum Dum in thanks, rubbing her bruised knees. She stretched her arms, and her cellmates looked at her with confusion. They must’ve been wondering why she was so relaxed, but well, the answer was rather simple; Dr. Zola was almost as lenient as Abraham.

 

“You’re idiocy is going to kill you one day.” He said with a shake of his head. “What are you doing with your life, Lucy?”

 

She chewed the inside of her lip.

 

“They would’ve found me anyway.” She looked away.

 

Dr. Zola flattened his lips into a thin line before unlocking the cell door. 

 

“Take your jacket off.” He said dismissively.

 

James and Dum Dum stood like two over protective bodyguards, and Lucy shot them a look. They reluctantly took a small step back, but their movements had already caused a small ripple, other cellmates standing for the heck of it. Dr. Zola didn’t seem to care as he reached into the pocket of his lab coat, grasping a thin capped syringe. 

 

Lucy blinked at the object, it’s needle protected by a small layer of plastic. He held out one hand patiently and she unzipped her black SSR uniform and removed it from her shoulders, revealing a white undershirt that caught a pinch of grime around her collar.

 

“Hey Doc.” Jim Morita pushed himself to his feet, and Lucy paused. “She already got beaten on yesterday. You gonna drug and drag her up to isolation too?”

 

Dr. Zola’s lips tilted upwards into an unnerving smile and Lucy huffed.

 

“Do you have to look like a maniac?” She frowned.

 

His gaze shifted back to her, smile slipping into a scowl. His eyelid twitched with a look of annoyance, before he waved his hand again.

 

“Arm.” His voice was firm, and Lucy decided to lose the playful attitude.

 

She held her hand out.

 

“Clench your fist.” 

 

Her fingers pressed against her palm, knuckles whitening. Dr. Zola’s eyes flickered across her nerves, pressing a finger against the crook of her elbow. He tapped her hand and she let her whole arm relax. He uncapped the needle and Lucy watched as thin silver slipped under her skin. The clear liquid within the syringe slowly entered her nerves and she could feel her skin grow extremely warm.

 

Dr. Zola pulled the syringe out and recapped the needle, placing it in his pocket. He watched her for a few seconds.

 

Lucy could feel her heartbeat quicken, a surge of energy crashing over her. Her pounding headache disappeared and she no longer felt in danger of a blood nose, mouth and possibly ears. 

 

“What was that?” She asked as she activated her abilities.

 

Her eyes flitted around the room, molecules of all kinds floating within the air. She shut them off as Dr. Zola’s lips tilted upwards into a satisfied smile.

 

“Something I’ve been working on- these will replace your IV drips.” He paused, tilting his head slightly. “Also, Colonel Lohmer reported a change in your abilities.”

 

Lucy looked down at her hand, holding them in front of her uncertainly. A few seconds of silence passed when Dum Dum took that as his opportunity to speak up.

 

“Is this supposed to be like, bad cop, good cop or something?” Dum Dum huffed, eyeing Dr. Zola distastefully.

 

“Some stupid ass shit to trip us up, yeah?” James added, and Dum Dum nodded in agreement.

 

They stared at Dr. Zola with narrowed eyes and Lucy watched as Dr. Zola returned their stares.

 

She activated her abilities in an attempt to distract him. Energy buzzed around her hand, white tendrils collecting over her palm as she turned her wrist. 

 

It worked.

 

Dr. Zola looked down with curious and calculating eyes. He carefully placed his hand under hers, moving it side to side as the white wisps danced around his fingertips.

 

“Your body’s adapting to your strength.” He muttered, before lifting his head. “The serum we gave you may be mutating. As you know, we needed to raise your blood toxicity level to almost one hundred percent so your receival of the serum could go smoothly. Everyone who received the serum prior to you died, so. . .”

 

“So?” She pressed.

 

He grimaced.

 

“We won’t know why your abilities changed unless we take a-“ Dr. Zola started.

 

“Bluttest.”

 

Blood test.

 

A voice interrupted. 

 

Lucy instinctively flinched, clasping her hands behind her back and lowering her head slightly. She inwardly berated herself for not noticing his footsteps sooner- she’d been so engrossed in the conversation she hadn’t been aware of her surroundings. 

 

Dr. Schaffer approached the pair, a small cup of creamy soup in one hand.

 

“Guten morgen, Arnim.” 

 

Good morning, Arnim.

 

He turned to Lucy, a smile playing at his lips. 

 

“Ver. Ich sehe Sie zugehört.”

 

Ver. I see you listened.

 

He remarked, and Lucy vaguely wondered if she’d developed eye bags overnight.

 

The soldiers who were standing shifted uneasily on their feet. James frowned alongside Dum Dum, and Lucy tried her best to look as neutral as possible. Dr. Schaffer’s eyes flickered across the cells, brows furrowing at the still open bars Lucy had stepped out of. He shut the metal door with a clang, causing Dum Dum to step back and James to spit at the man’s feet.

 

It only seemed to amuse Dr. Schaffer as he locked the cell with his pair of keys.

 

“Arnim.” Dr. Schaffer repeated, a dark glimmer in his eyes.

 

Lucy stiffened at the sight- whatever put him in a bad mood would result in a bucket load of pain for everyone, and that was the one thing she was trying to avoid. 

 

She moved on her feet unsurely, taking a hesitant step towards him. It seemed to repel some of the darkness in his gaze so she inched closer, ignoring her gut and standing near him instead of Dr. Zola.

 

“Henry.” Arnim replied smoothly, unbothered by Dr. Schaffer’s stare.

 

The colonel stepped closer to Dr. Zola, eyes narrowed.

 

“Sie gehört mir.”

 

She’s mine.

 

He said, and Dr. Zola tilted his head.

 

“Tatsächlich-”

 

Actually-

 

He started.

 

“-sie gehört HYDRA. Vergiss das nie.”

 

-she belongs to HYDRA. Never forget that.

 

Dr. Schaffer clenched his jaw and Dr. Zola stepped past him.

 

“I will take her later.” He said in english as he exited the cell room. 

 

Lucy faintly felt as though the pair were fighting for her without really. . .meaning to? She wasn’t sure, but it was definitely an odd thing to experience, and for once she was glad she didn’t have to say anything. 

 

Dr. Schaffer rubbed his temples with a long exhale. He stirred the soup in his hand, and Lucy cautiously looked at the warm potato-y goodness staring up at her. When he finished stirring he grasped her hands and pressed the cup against her palm. She got the message and held it, wincing as her stomach growled lowly. She had the urge to pick up the small spoon and eat, but she knew he’d slap the ceramic out of her hands if she did.

 

She watched with confusion as Dr. Schaffer stepped out of the room.

 

She glanced at James and Dum Dum, shaking her head at the pair who watched her with concern. She was glad other people of the 107th were watching her with the same look- at least James and Dum Dum weren’t sticking out like a sore thumb.

 

When Dr. Schaffer reappeared, he was followed by several guards. He unlocked all of the prison cells and stepped to the center as he cleared his throat.

 

“Colonel’s. Step forward.” Dr. Schaffer ordered and the soldiers glared in response.

 

No one moved for a few seconds and Dr. Schaffer’s hand dropped to his hip, where he pulled his pistol and pointed it at the ceiling. He pulled the trigger and Lucy grimaced at the sound that resonated.

 

There was no need for him to speak a threat as several people stumbled out of their cells. Lucy watched as guards seized two of the colonels and dragged them out of the room. They struggled, yelling and shouting, but the guards were merciless, hitting them with batons. 

 

The door slammed shut.

 

Dr. Schaffer turned to Lucy and eyed the untouched soup in her hands.

 

“Eat.” He ordered. “You are going to train.”

 

Lucy nodded, and slowly pressed the spoon to her lips. She was careful to eat slow in an attempt to not throw up. As she ate, she realized several people were watching her with jealousy and desperation. Suddenly, she didn’t want to eat anymore and she moved her spoon slower, uneasily shifting her gaze to Dr. Schaffer.

 

She gulped when she caught his eyes, amused and knowing- he was doing this on purpose- and she looked away. 

 

“Ver.” He stated and Lucy flinched unnoticeably.

 

She hurriedly finished eating and returned the cup to his hands. He took it and placed it besides one of the cells as the guards returned.

 

Dr. Schaffer gestured to the room with his hand.

 

“Which one is the best fighter? Apart from you.” He questioned, his German accent thick.

 

Lucy’s eyes flitted across the people in every cell, members of the 107th, the British company and other captured divisions shuffling on their feet warily, cautiously. Bile threatened to climb her throat as seconds ticked on.

 

Dr. Schaffer grasped her by elbow, and she stiffened as his fingers dug into her skin.

 

“I’m not in a good mood, Ver.” He hissed. “Don’t make my day worse.”

 

She faintly wondered why he was speaking english- maybe he was trying to come off more threatening towards the Americans.

 

“I-“ her gaze shifted to Robert, before she looked back at Dr. Schaffer’s lips, not daring to meet his eyes “-I’ve sparred with Allen, Barnes, and Dugan.”

 

Dr. Schaffer hummed.

 

“Which ones?” He questioned.

 

Lucy walked towards the cell Robert was in, and grabbed the man by his arm. He immediately raised a fist, a terrified look on his face. She grimaced apologetically as she ducked and pulled him out. She looked back at Dum Dum and James who looked on with confusion. She swallowed thickly and pulled them out of their cells too. The three of them stood pressed together, eyes flickering between the guards and Dr. Schaffer, like a small herd of cattle cornered by wolves. 

 

Dr. Schaffer chuckled and Lucy looked down, hands trembling unsurely. She couldn’t fight James because she would have to kill him like she’d do to anyone else and that would result in so much blood and she didn’t want to kill James because it was James and-

 

“You won’t kill them.” Dr. Schaffer reassured as he ran his hand through her hair, stopping at her ponytail. “Well, the Colonel’s will die. But these three will be good training partners.”

 

The soldiers immediately exploded in uproar and several other guards shuffled inside to contain the commotion. Lucy stumbled away from them and into Dr. Schaffer as they were beaten and dragged out of the room. She vaguely wondered where they were taking them, but Colonel Lohmer had said they were going to “work”, so she was sure they weren’t going to die.

 

“Honestly, what did you expect?” He said with a laugh, and Lucy stepped to the left of him.

 

James glowered, stepping forwards slightly.

 

“You’re twisted in so many ways you aren’t even human.” James sneered.

 

Dum Dum grabbed his arm, pulling him back. Lucy hoped he would tell him to be quiet but Dum Dum did the exact opposite.

 

“I agree. You’re a cruel shitbag who doesn’t have any human decency.” He snapped.

 

Dr. Schaffer’s eyes flashed dangerously and Lucy scrambled in front of him before he could lose his temper and shoot them between the eyes.

 

“They don’t understand.” She blurted. “They’re Americans. They don’t understand. . .Herr.”

 

Dr. Schaffer looked between her and the three behind her before sighing. He nodded at a few of the guards who grabbed James, Dum Dum and Robert. Lucy worriedly watched as they were dragged out of the room. 

 

She almost didn’t realize Dr. Schaffer was following right behind them, and her heart jumped in her chest. She quickly scampered forwards.

 

“I will not kill them, only if you do well.” He said conversationally as they stepped onto the ground level. “You know what that means?”

 

They entered an open training room, several mats lining the area. James, Dum Dum, Robert and the Colonel’s stood besides one, guns pointed at their heads.

 

Lucy licked her lips, eyes flickering across her friends as she picked her next words carefully.

 

“‘You are made of marble.’” She quoted and Dr. Schaffer’s footsteps slowed.

 

Lucy came to a stop as he did. He stared at her for a few long seconds and she wondered if she’d said something wrong.

 

“I’ve missed you.” He said softly, almost as if he was realizing it himself. 

 

Lucy grimaced.

 

She really was going to die of sudden mood-change-whiplash one day. 

 

He started forwards again and she followed. She stepped onto the empty training mat and Dr. Schaffer’s lips twitched upwards with approval. 

 

Lucy almost smiled.

 

He waved his hand and one of the colonel’s was shoved onto the mat. Her heart palpitated in her chest as the colonel glanced at her with a look of sympathy. She hated the look because it only made him a thousand times harder to kill and- god, she had to do this all over again.

 

She shifted on her feet, waiting for instruction and Dr. Schaffer cleared his throat.

 

“This one is simple.” He called from the sidelines. “Kill him without your hands.”

 

Lucy cringed before any and all expression disappeared from her face. She turned chillingly to the colonel whose sympathetic look morph into a marginally terrified one.  She stepped forwards, holding her hands in front of her as the air buzzed. Pure white energy encircled her hands and she felt Dr. Schaffer‘s judgemental gaze. A part of her wanted to do her best, to show him she could be better so he wouldn’t need to use her trigger phrases.

 

She lifted her hands, raising a small ball of negatively charged atoms. The energy grew and the colonel tried to run. She sharply jerked her hand upwards and the Colonel was instantly lifted off his feet. She slammed her palm downwards and his knees crashed against the ground. Her other hand fluttered as she deactivated his nervous system. He collapsed to the side and she carefully shut off his pain receptors.

 

When most of his brain was pulled apart from the inside, Lucy shuffled forwards. She knelt besides his body and gripped the dog tags around his neck tightly. She pulled the necklace off and tucked it into her pocket. She turned to Dr. Schaffer who walked onto the mat and held his hand out.

 

She handed him the dog tags and he tossed them in the air, catching them easily.

 

“I’ll add them to your collection, yes?” He smiled, speaking loudly enough for the others to hear.

 

Lucy winced.

 

“Yes, Herr.” She muttered.

 

In all honesty, she was surprised Dr. Schaffer had kept her stash of dog tags. 

 

Years ago, she’d expected him to berate her when he’d first found them- she should’ve known he’d noticed- but he’d barely been upset, allowing her to collect all of them. Unsurprisingly, the pile grew and grew with names of HYDRA agents and random soldiers she’d brutally murdered. Now he used it to show her guilt, and Lucy despised it, even if she’d started collecting them so the men that died could be remembered. It wasn’t a trophy like Dr. Schaffer treated it as- it was supposed to be a symbol of mourning.

 

Lucy stood stiffly, straightening as Dr. Schaffer waved a hand at a guard. The man took his gun and handed it to Lucy. She took it and watched as another Colonel was shoved onto the mat. He gazed at her with steely eyes, and Lucy lifted the Mauser HSc. 

 

It occurred to her she could shoot all of the guards, then face Dr. Schaffer. 

 

She inhaled deeply as seconds ticked by.

 

The Colonel stared at her, and she squeezed her eyes shut as her finger trembled on the trigger. She had a weapon and she could kill them. . .maybe she could’ve killed them with her abilities, but that thought hadn’t passed her mind until now.

 

“Ver.” Dr. Schaffer spoke sharply. “Shoot him.”

 

Her eyes flicked to him, then to the gun in her hand. She should’ve wanted to shoot Dr. Schaffer but she was more compelled to listen and she didn’t understand why she pulled the trigger- she just did what deeply engraved instincts told her to do.

 

Three bullets burrowed into the Colonel’s body and he hit the ground with a thud.

 

She lowered the gun and Dr. Schaffer stepped to the right of her. He held his hand out and she placed the gun in his hand. She could see James and Dum Dum watching her with horror and she wanted to tell them how sorry she was- that she didn’t mean it. She assumed they were horrified of her, not of the doctor standing besides her. She collected the colonel’s dog tags again, and Dr. Schaffer took them.

 

He turned to two of the guards and they dragged the corpses off the mat- a pool of blood was all that was left.

 

“Clean that.” Dr. Schaffer ordered, wrinkling his nose with distaste.

 

Lucy activated her abilities and turned the blood into water, letting it fizzle and evaporate into air. Dr. Schaffer grinned with amusement before gesturing towards James, Dum Dum and Robert.

 

“Of the three, which one is worst?” He asked and Lucy decided there wouldn’t be any harm in being honest.

 

“Allen.” She stated.

 

Dr. Schaffer nodded thoughtfully before turning the gun on Robert and shooting him point-blank in the head. Lucy’s eyes widened- she’d expected him to put Robert back in the cells, not. . .kill him. 

 

The guard holding Robert jumped and Lucy realized the bullet had grazed him as well. Dr. Schaffer hummed, then turned the gun on the guard, shooting him as well. Dum Dum and James both stepped away to avoid the gunfire, and the guards behind them acted just as terrified.

 

Dr. Schaffer tilted his head back to look at Lucy.

 

“You don’t like to kill more than you need to.” He said. “So I killed him for you.”

 

Lucy managed not to throw up.

 

He looked pleased- and calmer- so she forced a thank you to leave her lips. He gazed at her thoughtfully.

 

“You will fight hand to hand Conant with-“ he paused waving his hand at James.

 

“Barnes.” Lucy supplied hesitantly and he nodded.

 

“Yes, him. You will fight that one-“ he pointed to Dum Dum “-tomorrow.”

 

Lucy didn’t say anything as he approached the pair, examining both of them like test subjects.

 

“Fight until I say so. Understand?” Dr. Schaffer said and Lucy wished James didn’t have as much spunk as he did.

 

She watched as her best friend narrowed his eyes, promptly sneering at her handler-

 

“Fuck you.” He snarled. “Nazi piece of shit.”

 

Dr. Schaffer eyed him and Lucy almost expected him to punch James in the face. Instead he turned on his heel and smiled at Lucy.

 

“This one reminds me of you.” He chuckled lightly, eyes brewing a black storm. “He’s a fighter.”

 

Lucy nodded mutely, avoiding James’s gaze as he was shoved forwards onto the mat. He glowered at the guard who’d pushed him, catching his balance before he could tumble to the ground. Dr. Schaffer smiled sweetly as he travelled off to the side and let out a shrill whistle.

 

James furrowed his eyebrows with confusion and Lucy shot him an apologetic look before lunging. He cursed under his breath, side-stepping her and ducking from the punch she swung to his head.

 

He swung a fist at her cheek and she jumped back in surprise. She raised her leg and kicked him hard in the side. He dropped to the ground and Lucy used the momentum of her right foot to kick up her other leg and land to his right.

 

She jabbed at him with her right hand and he blocked it with his left, using his other hand to send a right hook into her abdomen. His fist buried into her side but she ignored the pain as he used his left hand to uppercut her in the chin. She caught his wrist and he looked up with wide eyes as she shoved his hand downward and smacked her head into his. She winced and James stumbled back. 

 

She placed both of her hands on his shoulders and knees him in between the legs. He let out a pained grunt and dropped to his knees. Lucy moved to slam a punch into his face, but he blocked it with his left forearm and jabbed her harshly in the stomach. Her knees hit the ground and James momentarily stopped, concern rippling from his shoulders. 

 

Her hand suddenly reached out, grabbing onto his neck and shoving him back onto the mat. She pushed her knee into his chest and James let out a huff as he looked up at her with determination. He grabbed her wrist with one hand, using the other to punch her between the eyes. She blocked his hand, the momentum causing her to almost lose her balance. James took advantage of her clumsiness, pushing her hand back and rolling onto her. She grunted as her back hit the mat.

 

James held both of her arms to the sides of her head and he let out a labored breath.

 

“We done?” He panted.

 

Her eyes flicked to the side before she pulled her head back.

 

James’s eyes widened and he stumbled onto his feet to avoid getting smacked in the face again. She jumped to her feet and took a few steps back from James as they both caught their breath.

 

“Not until he whistles!” She huffed loudly.

 

“Not until he whistles my ass!” James yelled back.

 

Lucy rushed forwards and slammed her fist into his face. He ducked like she’d expected him to and roundhouse kicked him in the side. He grimaced and dropped hurriedly as she threw a left hook at him. He kicked out her legs and she jumped to avoid him. He punched her as she landed and she barely dodged.

 

“Are you trying to get killed?” She hissed into his ear and he frowned.

 

His fist flew towards her neck and she looked at him with a gaze of offense. He shrugged slightly as his other foot lifted to kick her. She stepped back quickly, and James lunged, kneeing her in the chest. She fell back and James flipped something in his hand- she looked down at her waistband, only to find her favorite dagger missing. Her eyes flicked back to James who lunged at her, blade in hand.

 

She didn’t think for a moment James was going to kill her- because he wasn’t lunging at her, but towards Dr. Schaffer.

 

He wouldn’t be able to kill Dr. Schaffer- not with one stab to his chest or his neck or his head. He’d survived war because of his skill in hand-to-hand combat and his swiftness with guns. And if it came to it, he would say her trigger words. 

 

Then she would have to kill James.

 

“James, no!” She shouted, jumping in front of him.

 

She activated her abilities and the blade flew out of his hand. James looked back and she tackled him to the ground. They both let out a pained groan as they rolled to the edge of the mat. She blinked several times, realizing they were both lying in front of Dr. Schaffer.

 

James pushed himself to his feet and looked at Lucy with furrowed eyebrows, an angry flicked in his eyes.

 

“I was trying to help you!” James snapped.

 

Lucy stared at him like he’d lost his mind.

 

“By killing him?” She countered.

 

James shook his head fiercely.

 

“Lu, you think this fucker cares ‘bout you?” He said incredulously.

 

“Lu?”

 

Lucy froze and James snapped his head up to look at Dr. Schaffer, his eyebrows raised.

 

Her hands trembled and Dr. Schaffer moved his shoe, pressing it into the center of her hand. She winced and forced her hands to stop trembling.

 

“James is your friend?” Dr. Schaffer said his name like it was nothing but dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

 

“No- No he’s not-“ she bit back a cry as Dr. Schaffer pressed harder into her flesh.

 

Dr. Schaffer crouched in front of her and James tried to shield her from him. Lucy pushed him away with one hand and she pulled herself onto her knees, sitting with her hand still pinned to the ground.

 

“Please, please bitte bitte.” She whimpered. “I’ll do everything you want, I’ll do it- I won’t think about leaving- I’ll kill anything anyone- I’ll be your shield just don’t kill him. Bitte.”

 

She lowered her head and Dr. Schaffer gazed at her.

 

The silence dragged on and James clenched his hands into fists. Before he could throw a fist at Dr. Schaffer, the man shifted.

 

“Wir müssen reden.”

 

We need to talk.

 

He finally said with an indifferent tone.

 

He grabbed her by the forearm and stepped off her hand, pulling her up to her feet. He shouted at the guards in sharp curt german, and Lucy trembled as James and Dum Dum were taken away. 

 

She looked back at Dr. Schaffer and vaguely feared for her life.

 

But James and Dum Dum were alive, a distant part of her thought, isn’t that enough?

Chapter 31: Thirty

"Would I run off the world someday?”

Kreischberg, Austria

October, 1943

BOILING WATER FIZZLED AND BUZZED in a huge pot over the stove, filled to the brim with elbow macaroni. Besides the stove was a large pan of scrambled eggs with a floating spoon. Another silvery pot was floating over the sink, pouring pasta into a sieve. Beneath the stove was an oven, two huge trays covered in baby tomatoes placed on a hot rack. Pieces of pasta, egg and tomato floated into silver cans, serving as inexpensive dishes. Plastic spoons accompanied each container and stirred the food together.

 

In the center of it all was Lucy, who waved and twisted her hands around as the pots switched places, more pasta pouring into the sieve. A white aura surrounded each object, swirling and churning like a tiny storm. Her eyes flickered back and forth between the food cooking and the oven as it opened and closed, tomatoes floating upwards. 

 

Everytime a can was filled, it floated and moved to a large tray. Once each large tray was filled she started to fill the next one. With about three hundred prisoners Lucy had to make six trays, each with fifty cans.

 

Before Lucy had invaded the kitchen with Dr. Schaffer and kicked out the man who’d been cooking, the prisoners had been eating watery cabbage soup that did nothing for their nutrition or their health. Lucy was appalled and surprised that the prisoners were somehow still alive. She’d gotten to work almost immediately, finding a small box of dried pasta and duplicating the food. Her ears had rang faintly, with a soft energetical hum as she created enough pasta for everyone. 

 

She lowered her hands slowly and the pots floated downward. The last of her pasta entered their homy cans snuggly and Lucy deactivated her abilities for a moment. 

 

The kitchen door opened behind her and she turned. 

 

Dr. Schaffer leaned against the doorframe, eyes scanning the trays.

 

“You’re quite efficient.” He observed and Lucy ducked her head with a small nod.

 

She activated her abilities again and the trays rose into the air.

 

Dr. Schaffer moved to the side as the trays floated past the doorway. She followed behind it, hands raised. She waited for him to walk besides her, before travelling across the hall towards the prison cells. He unlocked the main entrance and she clambered down the steps with the trays following close behind her. 

 

The soldiers in the cells looked up when she entered, and Lucy could see they were all exhausted and tired from the day's work. Some were bruised, as if they’d been beaten, and Lucy clenched her jaw at the sight. 

 

She wished she could do more- maybe she could.

 

Dr. Schaffer pushed one of the trays with his hand, and Lucy caught it as the molecules shifted. He glanced at her and awkwardly cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest as if nothing happened. 

 

Lucy hadn’t ever seen him act so humanly that it was more unnerving then it should’ve been. She grabbed two cans of food from a tray and leaned in front of the first cell. The soldiers looked up at her with frowns as she pushed the can between the cell bars. 

 

One of the soldiers took it, and sniffed the food inside. He kicked his lips but handed it to the guy next to him. 

 

Lucy handed him the other can too, and was glad he was distributing it between the men inside. More cans floated to her hands and she continued to distribute the food. Some of them gaped in awe at the sight of fresh pasta for the first time, in well, Lucy didn’t know.

 

She moved to the next cell and Lucy recognized some of Robert’s friends- they always snickered about her as if she wasn’t there. She decided to be nice and handed him one of the cans. He snatched it out of her hand and she held back a sigh as he sniffed the food. 

 

He looked at her, then scoffed, throwing the can through the cell doors. It clattered against the ground, and food splattered everywhere. 

 

Another prisoner in his cell punched him in the shoulder. He wasn’t a part of the 107th or anyone she’d ever seen- he was just another random prisoner HYDRA had taken, and he looked angry.

 

She breathed softly through her nose, and moved to grab another can when a gun cocked to the left of her head.

 

She pulled back sharply, and snapped her head to the side as she realized Dr. Schaffer had drawn his pistol, pointing it at the man. The soldier paled immediately and Lucy watched with a nervous gulp as Dr. Schaffer tilted his head.

 

He barked a cold laugh, before kicking pieces of stray pasta at the soldier. Lucy watched as the food tumbled across the ground, landing in front of the man. 

 

Dr. Schaffer gestured with his gun.

 

“Eat it.” He said. “Or they don’t eat.”

 

Dr. Schaffer gestured to his cell mates and they looked at their comrade with wide eyes. Dr. Schaffer watched as a few seconds as silence passed. The soldier's cellmates glared and the soldier picked up the pasta on the ground, reluctantly placing it in his mouth.

 

Lucy looked away, reminded too much of herself. 

 

She cleared her throat.

 

“Herr, he didn’t-“ she started in English.

 

Dr. Schaffer holstered his gun, turning to look down at her.

 

“He wanted that can to hit you. I saw. Besides, I said to kill anyone who hurt you, didn’t I?” He said slowly.

 

The soldiers looked horrified by what he said, and Lucy blinked furiously.

 

“Yes, but-“ she said hesitantly.

 

“Didn’t I?” He repeated calmly.

 

She swallowed thickly, lowering her head in a tiny nod.

 

“Yes, Herr.” She agreed reluctantly.

 

She reached for a few cans again, handing the rest of the cellmates their food. She continued to distribute all of the cans, receiving a few thanks and a few sorry’s- she wasn’t sure why they apologized.

 

She walked over to the last cell- James and Dum Dum’s cell- reaching for the final row of cans. Dr. Schaffer blocked her path and she furrowed her eyebrows. He grabbed his keys and unlocked the cell swiftly, nodding at her to step inside.

 

Relief filled every part of her body, glad she could spend the rest of her day with people she considered her friends. She walked inside, six cans floating besides her.

 

“Dr. Zola will bring your dinner soon.” Dr. Schaffer assured as he shut the cell door.

 

She nodded and he clipped the keys back on his waistband.

 

If only she could steal those. . .

 

She dismissed the thought as fast as it came as Dr. Schaffer placed a tentative hand on top of her head. 

 

“Rest. Tomorrow you will do endurance training.” 

 

Lucy grimaced and Dr. Schaffer gave her a knowing look.

 

Endurance training was the worst thing Lucy ever experienced. She’d have to do workouts of all kinds- planks, side curl-ups, squat pulses- and hold them for as long as she could. She’d been in so much pain the next day Dr. Schaffer had let her run laps instead of doing anything else.

 

He patted her head once and walked away, six trays stacked between his hands.

 

Lucy waited until he shut the door before she slumped against the cell bars, turning to look at James, Dum Dum, Jim, Jacques, Gabe, and the other James. 

 

James avoided her gaze, his hand gripping the can of pasta tightly. She looked down at her hands, before hesitantly glancing at Dum Dum. He looked exhausted but hungry as he slowly forked pieces of pasta and tomatoes into his mouth.

 

“Hey.” 

 

Jim was the first one to speak to her, and she looked up anxiously.

 

He held up his can.

 

“Thanks.” He said sincerely.

 

Lucy’s lips twitched upwards slightly as she nodded in response. She looked away quickly, clasping her hands together as she sat cross-legged. Silence settled again, and Lucy did nothing to break it. 

 

A few minutes passed, and Lucy heard the main door open again.

 

She turned around as Dr. Zola stepped inside.

 

He’d looked vaguely annoyed when he’d taken her blood test. Now he looked infuriated. 

 

Maybe he’d walked past Dr. Schaffer on his way in. 

 

Lucy turned and he stomped towards her. She pulled back slightly as he opened the cell and handed her a tray. There was a bowl of beef stew with bread and a cup of water. 

 

And it reeked of poisons.

 

“Don’t share that with them. They’ll die.” Dr. Zola said harshly before he slammed the cell door shut.

 

He turned swiftly on his feet and stomped back up the stairs, muttering to himself.

 

She tried not to feel confused by his emotional tantrum. She looked down at her food and grabbed her bread, dipping it in the soup. She took a hesitant bite and was surprised by the warmth and taste of it. The chemical-like smell didn’t taste as pungent as she thought it’d be. 

 

She felt James glance at her for a second and looked up. 

 

He quickly flicked his eyes away and she looked down at her food. She didn’t know if he was angry at her- who was she kidding? Of course he was angry. He’d tried to kill an enemy and she’d stopped him. She’d killed two other prisoners. Robert was a bully but he didn’t deserve to die. 

 

He had every right to hate her for what she did, and she found herself distraught by the thought.

 

A part of her wanted to beg and apologize and say she’d do anything he told her to. But, she’d done the same to Peggy in England, when she first saved her from HYDRA, and Peggy had looked horrified. She’d told Lucy how important it was to not fully rely on one person, and that people usually got into arguments- that it was normal.

 

So, Lucy assumed James would react the same- or worse- so she just kept to herself, continuing to eat.

 

When she finished her food and water she slipped the tray between the cell bars, fitting the bowl through it and placing everything back together.

 

“You. . .okay?” Gabe asked as he scooted forwards slightly. “He didn’t. . .”

 

He trailed off and Lucy took a moment to realize what he meant. She shook her head vigorously, pulling her knees to her chest.

 

“Herr isn’t-“ she winced “he’s not. . .not like that. He thinks of me as a weapon, not as a person, so. . .”

 

Gabe grimaced, leaning back slightly as he tapped his can against the ground.

 

“I don’t know which ones worse.” He said.

 

Lucy didn’t know what else to say so she just nodded.

 

She fiddled with her fingers as Monty looked at her with a bit of concern.

 

“What’d he talk to you about?” He asked.

 

Lucy shifted slightly, dropping her knees and sitting cross legged again.

 

“I- Um- Well, he’s letting me cook food for all of you, now.” She said, tapping her fingers against her knee. “And- And I think. . .he might let me supervise you so- so none of you get beaten, or anything. If- If I’m really good-”

 

James suddenly slammed his can onto the ground, and Lucy flinched.

 

Their cellmates looked at him with wide eyes, Jacques grasping onto his heart.

 

“Don’t talk like that.” He said in a shrill voice, vibrant blue eyes shifting to stare at Lucy. “Don’t talk like you have to do what he tells you.”

 

Lucy clasped her hands together as she looked away.

 

He didn’t understand- none of them would understand.

 

“I- I have to Jam-“ she started.

 

“No!” He practically burst. “No you don’t! We could at least try to escape. We could at least try to steal keys or kill them or something, Lucy! Do you really think we should sit here like waiting ducks?”

 

Dum Dum placed a hand on James’s shoulder, muttering a “calm down”. But James had opened his mouth and he wasn’t done speaking.

 

“No.” Lucy whispered. “We can’t do anything James. You don’t under-“

 

“I may not understand, but I’m not going to sit on my ass and wait for death to come knocking on my door. Lucy, you’re the only one who can help us.” James pressed.

 

Lucy’s hands shook as tears welled in her eyes. She shook her head again, clenching her hands into fists.

 

“You can’t.” She said, her voice raising slightly.

 

James threw his hands in the air.

 

“Lucy we can’t work like this- not everyday. Not when that Colonel Loner or Loger or whatever beats on everyone! You were taken upstairs and we hammered metal until our arms went numb- someone dropped dead today.” James shouted exasperatedly.

 

Lucy turned slightly, eyebrows furrowing as tears trickled down her face.

 

“Did you think I didn’t want to be there to make sure all of you were alright? Did you think I wanted to go upstairs?! Did you think I wanted to sit in such close proximity to the man who’s- who’s“ she sniffled angrily “-I was terrified, that he would kill you, or Dum Dum, or someone else! You don’t know what he’s done James! You don’t know what he can do!”

 

James looked taken aback by her outburst, and Lucy’s face paled when she realized she’d been shouting. She wiped her face quickly and moved her legs so she was kneeling. She lowered her head and scooted right besides the cell bars. 

 

She avoided James’s gaze instinctively.

 

It was silent again, and he stared at her for a long time.

 

She opened her mouth to apologize-

 

“I’m sorry.” James spoke before she could, his voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have yelled at ya like that.”

 

She closed her mouth. That was unexpected.

 

“It’s- it’s my fault.” James said as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m just stupid and frustrated and I yelled at you for no reason. We all saw what he did to you yesterday and I shouldn’ta said that. I’m sorry.”

 

Lucy breathed softly.

 

“It’s okay.” She muttered. “I’d be upset if I were you too.”

 

James reached a hesitant hand towards her and Lucy scooted over, sitting cross-legged. He grasped her hand and Lucy found herself comforted by his warmth.

 

“There’s no point in fighting amongst ourselves.” Gabe said after a moment.

 

Lucy shut her eyes, leaning her head against the cell bars. 

 

“That’s right.” She agreed quietly, a frown playing at her lips. “Does Colonel Lohmer- I mean- is he violent?”

 

James scoffed.

 

“That man has no regard for any of us. He beat somebody to death just for the fun of it.” He said.

 

Lucy blinked.

 

If Colonel Lohmer killed prisoners just for the fun of it Lucy was sure she could bring an end to it. Prisoners were important to HYDRA because Schmidt or Dr. Schaffer or whoever was using the metal they hammered needed them.

 

So if someone was continuously getting rid of prisoners because they were bored. . .

 

She raised her head.

 

“Just for the fun of it, you said?”

Chapter 32: Thirty One

"Karma awaits no one.”

Kreischberg, Austria

October, 1943

LUCY’S HAIR WAS TIED in a taut ponytail, beads of sweat trickling down her face. She wore a white tank top with black tactical pants, socks pulled right beneath her ankles accompanied by low-ankle combat boots. Her legs ached as she jogged around the prisoners working, guards stepping out of her way as she rushed past. Dr. Schaffer was leaning against one of the unused tables, a book in hand. He glanced at her for a moment before looking down at his book and turning a page.

 

A week had passed since they’d first arrived at the HYDRA base, and Lucy had watched forlornly as the prisoners grew skinnier and sicker everyday. James had caught the flu or pneumonia- none of them were sure yet. Lucy could see the molecules within James morphing and shifting and it seemed like his flu was on the brink of becoming pneumonia.

 

She breathed softly as she ran another lap. She let her head grow horizontal to the ground, careful to keep herself as quiet as possible. 

 

James lifted her head, gazing at her for a moment before he fell into a coughing fit. Lucy slowed in her steps, but didn’t stop as she looked away and hurried forwards. She ran faster in an attempt to reach James again. Dum Dum watched her sympathetically before going back to hammering flat metal pieces.

 

She wasn’t sure what it was for, but Lucy hardly had the time to worry about that. She continued running, running another lap. She passed James again, but this time he ended up in a coughing fit so severe he couldn’t hammer the metal anymore. Lucy slowed in her steps as Colonel Lohmer stalked towards him. 

 

Jim grabbed James’s arm as he doubled over, trying his best to help him stand. Lucy came to a stop, worriedly watching James continue to hack his lungs out.

 

Lucy’s eyes flicked to Dr. Schaffer who was more engrossed in his book than her. 

 

She turned her head back to James just in time to witness Colonel Lohmer slam a baton into his back. Usually James would turn and spit at them, but he fell to the ground instead. Jim shouted as Gabe and Dum Dum rushed towards them. Lucy’s heart twisted inside her chest as Colonel Lohmer waved his gun threateningly at the men, before turning back to James who coughed against the ground.

 

Colonel Lohmer raised his baton again, and she flinched when it slammed into James’s back again.

 

She glanced at Dr. Schaffer, only to find him staring at her tentatively, his book closed and tucked under his arm. His eyes flicked to James momentarily, before returning to her. 

 

A choked scream had her head snapping back to James. Colonel Lohmer had his foot right above his wrist, pressing with a force Lucy knew could break bones. The sweat trickling down her head grew cold as white hot rage filled every part of her being. She sprinted forwards and shoved through Dum Dum and Gabe, tackling the Colonel harshly to the side. He slammed into the ground along with Lucy and he tried to shove her off, but she knees him in the chest, lifting a fist and slamming it into his face.

 

His nose snapped with a crack and Lucy huffed as blood trickled down his lips. Colonel Lohmer let out a pained groan, and Lucy stepped off of him, moving to sit besides James who pushed himself into a sitting position. He cradled his right wrist with his left, a pained grimace on his lips. Tears welled in his eyes but he forced them not to fall as he lifted his gaze to meet Lucy’s worried eyes.

 

She hesitantly reached forwards to grab his hand, just as a gunshot went off.

 

Everyone flinched, but Lucy’s eyes grew cold, hardening like glaciers as she stared ahead. James gazed at her with confusion, though he was still busy trying not to cry with pain. Lucy knew what a broken wrist felt like, so she didn’t blame him.

 

She slowly tilted her head back, a bullet only a few centimeters from her head. It trembled in the air before dissolving into nothing but metallic dust. Her gaze shifted to Colonel Lohmer, who’s hand clenched into fists to stop himself from shaking with fear. 

 

Her eyes were dark and dead as Colonel Lohmer stared at her with horror.

 

“The Verfall Soldier-“

 

She started emotionlessly.

 

“-can only be decommissioned by it’s handler.”

 

She tilted her head.

 

Colonel Lohmer sputtered gibberish as he tried to push himself to his feet. Lucy raised one hand, standing as white mist circled her hand, climbing up her arm and slowly travelling across her body. The same wisps circled Colonel Lohmer who fought the invisible force pressing him into the ground.

 

“Well said, Ver.” 

 

Dr. Schaffer said with a chuckle.

 

Lucy turned to look at him as the other prisoners took a small step backwards, away from the commotion.

 

She looked back at the man on the floor, shifting her hand, fingers twisting. 

 

Colonel Lohmer let out a cry of pain as his wrist snapped.

 

She wanted him to remember what he’d done to the Jews in Auschwitz, what he’d screamed and yelled, and who he’d killed in cold blood. She wanted him to know what it felt like to be hopeless and scared to death. She wanted him to know what Joseph and families and citizens of Germany who feared the Nazi’s, people of their own country more than

 

His gun pulled from his hand and floated into hers as she pointed it at his forehead. His terrified eyes looked to Dr. Schaffer with desperation but Dr. Schaffer merely winked, a smile on his lips.

 

“You were killing too many.” Dr. Schaffer said, as if he were speaking to a child. “Besides, you don’t kill things that are mine.”

 

Colonel Lohmer opened his mouth to speak as Lucy pulled the trigger. The bullet buried itself in between his eyes, and she dropped the gun.

 

The white tendrils encircling her and the Colonel slowly dissipated. She lowered her hand and looked to the side, swallowing a lump in her throat as several of the prisoners stumbled back with paled faces. James looked up at her with wide eyes and Lucy’s anger was suddenly replaced with guilt.

 

She looked down at her hands, which were shaking with rage. She gulped as realization hit her in the gut, her face falling. She sank to her knees, looking down at James’s hand and grasping it gently.

 

“Lucy-“ James started.

 

She flinched, refusing to look at him as she focused on the molecules beneath his skin and flesh, finding bone. She was reluctant in recreating the same molecules while James was awake, because it would hurt like hell if she input new bones.

 

Dr. Schaffer clapped his hands together, and Lucy stiffened, remembering he was there.

 

James looked up, eyes hardening into a glare. He clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth as Dr. Schaffer reached a hand out and gripped her shoulder. 

 

Lucy froze as he leaned forwards, lips besides her ear.

 

“He’s just a friend.”

 

Lucy blinked slowly, unsure of what that was supposed to mean. She furrowed her eyebrows as confusion washed over her face.

 

Did he think otherwise?

 

She looked up at him and Dr. Schaffer looked pleased by her expression. She returned her gaze to James and grabbed his uninsured hand, helping him to his feet.

 

He let out another string of coughs and Lucy patted his back gently. She looked up at Dr. Schaffer pleadingly, and he sighed.

 

“Take him to the infirmary.” He said evenly.

 

She nodded gratefully, watching as he turned on his heel and returned to lean in his prior spot, opening his book once again.

 

She grabbed James’s good arm and pulled it over her shoulder. She pulled him towards the stairwell, helping him walk as his coughing fit came to a stop. He lifted his gaze, a regretful look between them.

 

“Lucy, you didn’t need to-“ he started and she looked away.

 

“I didn’t mean to kill him, James.” She said almost futilely, her voice pitiful and trembling. “I didn’t want to I- I promise I didn’t mean to just-to just-“

 

Her bottom lip trembled and she bit the inside of her lip. He must’ve thought of her as a monster. The way she’d killed him had been heartless. On the frontlines it had been quick shots and often non-fatal bullet wounds- she made sure of it. But this time she’d gone as far as hurting him just as he’d hurt James and that was- that was just wrong.

 

“We were going to kill him today.” James blurted and Lucy stopped in her tracks.

 

Her eyes widened with surprise as James let out a small cough. She resumed walking, making sure he was leaning more on her than himself.

 

“An unexpected accident.” James chuckled bitterly. “Industrial type metal is heavy, ya know, if a stack fell, it’d be a domino effect and that asshole would be buried underneath it.”

 

She hadn’t realized James wasn’t upset she’d killed the colonel. Then again, Colonel Lohmer was an enemy and a Nazi, no less. She felt a sudden wave of relief wash over her shoulders, relieved James was more satisfied that she’d killed him.

 

“James.” She muttered softly, and he looked up at her with a small smile.

 

They turned down a hall and passed a few doors before entering a large room with several infirmary beds lining each wall. It reminded her faintly of the old infirmary room she and the other subjects had been taken to. 

 

There were wounded soldiers occupying five of the eight beds, and Dr. Zola was accompanying a nurse who seemed to be resetting an agent's dislocated shoulder. Lucy kept to herself as James’s eyes flickered across the room. He looked up at her with confusion, because this infirmary was usually for agents, and the infirmary down the hall from here was for prisoners. 

 

Lucy helped James sit on one of the hospital beds, grabbing another pillow from a vacant bed and fluffing it up. She placed it behind his back and he lay against the cushions. He inhaled with a raspy breath, several coughs escaping his lips. 

 

She gently grabbed his broken wrist and he let out a hiss of pain as his limbs moved.

 

“I’m sorry.” Lucy mumbled and James shook his head at her.

 

“There's nothing you have to be sorry for.” He reassured, but Lucy couldn’t help the guilty feeling weighing on her conscience.

 

She activated her abilities and examined the bone once again. Her hands were immersed in white fog as it slowly travelled around James’s wrist. 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Lucy’s head snapped upwards and she immediately pulled her hands away from him as she met Dr. Zola’s gaze. He wasn’t exactly scrutinizing her, but he didn’t seem content with her either. His eyes flicked to James for a split-second before returning to her once again.

 

“Herr said to bring him here.” She said quietly. “His wrist is fractured and he has a fever.”

 

Dr. Zola rubbed his temples as he tucked his clipboard under his arm. He stepped to the other side of James and placed a hand on his forehead. James had the strength to try and bit him, but he immediately fell victim to another barrage of coughs. Dr. Zola looked unamused as he pulled his hand away, a frown on his lips.

 

“He probably has pneumonia.” Dr. Zola hummed as he moved to inspect his wrist. “Several other prisoners died of it yesterday.”

 

James huffed and tried to pull away from Dr. Zola, only to inhale sharply when Dr. Zola’s grip tightened around his broken bone. Lucy stiffened instinctively and the doctor’s eyes narrowed. 

 

“Ver.” Dr. Zola said as he let go of James. “Were you going to heal him?”

 

She nodded slowly and Dr. Zola stared at her.

 

“Go ahead.” He said with a wave of his hand.

 

Lucy glanced at James who was glaring daggers at Dr. Zola. She looked back at the scientist and shuffled on her feet reluctantly.

 

Dr. Zola raised an eyebrow and she fiddled with her fingers.

 

“What is it now?” He questioned with exasperation and Lucy cleared her throat.

 

“W-Well. . .he’s. . .he’s going to be in a lot of pain.” She mumbled. “And- If he had anesthesia. . .”

 

Realization flickered in Dr. Zola’s eyes and he released a soft sigh.

 

“I’m not wasting anesthesia on a prisoner.” He said.

 

Lucy breathed deeply as her shoulders sagged with defeat. She grabbed a nearby stool and sat down besides James’s bed as she gently grabbed his wrist again. She momentarily thought of creating anesthesia but she hadn’t ever done that before. She could stop the neurons firing inside of his head but that was risky because it could end with his death.

 

She let her hand hover over his bone.

 

“This is going to hurt.” She said quietly to James, avoiding his gaze.

 

He ran his other hand through his hair.

 

“I’d rather be healed by you.” He huffed.

 

Dr. Zola’s eyelid twitched and Lucy tensed.

 

“Please don’t hurt him.” She said, looking up at him with wide eyes. “He’s- He can be an idiot sometimes.”

 

“Hey!” James protested, coughing once again.

 

Dr. Zola rolled his eyes, adjusting his glasses.

 

“I’ll be back with medicine. He’s useless like this.” Dr. Zola crossed his arms over his chest. “If he doesn’t heal he’s going to become a test subject.”

 

Lucy stopped, jaw clenching with horror. She opened her mouth to ask what he meant exactly but he turned on his heel and disappeared out of the infirmary. She blinked wildly, looking down at James’s hand. 

 

“Ready?” She said, keeping her voice steady.

 

James nodded, though his face had paled incredibly at Dr. Zola’s words. She would deal with that later.

 

His injuries came first.

 

“Yeah.” James gulped.

 

“One, two-“ the white wisps around Lucy’s hands expanded over his skin and the twist of his wrist.

 

James’s whole body tensed and a low groan of pain rumbled from his throat. She flinched at the sound, recreating bone and molecules of blood. She focused intently, making sure she didn’t accidentally create too big of a bone or one too small. 

 

James’s other hand clenched the infirmary bed so tight his knuckles turned white. Another moan of pain escaped him and Lucy apologized futilely. She continued to heal him for a few minutes, though it must’ve felt like hours to him. She pulled her hand away as she deactivated her abilities.

 

“You okay?” Lucy asked as she looked up at him.

 

Cold sweat was trickling down his forehead and he released a long breath.

 

“That hurt-“ he gritted his teeth “-like hell.”

 

Lucy gently rubbed his wrist and surprise travelled between his features.

 

“Wait-“ he started as he moved his once broken wrist around “-how did you-?”

 

“She recreated your bone structure.” 

 

The pair looked up as Dr. Zola reappeared with a hypodermic needle in his hand. Lucy tried to lean away but James reached out for her hand, gripping it tightly as a ripple of fear flowed from his shoulders. Dr. Zola uncapped the needle and stepped to the left of James.

 

“What the hell is that?!” James sneered.

 

Dr. Zola looked like he wanted to punch him in the face.

 

“It’s just medicine.” Lucy breathed softly, eyeing the clear liquid inside the needle. “He wouldn’t kill you. And he shouldn’t.”

 

Her gaze flickered to Dr. Zola.

 

“Herr would be very angry.”

 

Dr. Zola huffed and grabbed James’s arm.

 

James’s hand tightened around Lucy’s, so tight it almost hurt. His eyes were away from Dr. Zola, focused on her and their joined fingers. She pressed a reassuring smile to her face and James’s gaze softened. He flinched when the needle made contact with his upper arm. But as fast as the needle broke skin, it pulled away. Dr. Zola placed the needle on a small table besides the infirmary bed.

 

“You should return to the cells.” Dr. Zola said in an orderly tone.

 

Lucy briefly remembered Dr. Schaffer’s words the prior week- Dr. Zola no longer has clearance to order you- and she shook her head hesitantly.

 

“I’ll sleep here. Make sure he doesn’t die or- or escape.” She said reluctantly.

 

Dr. Zola’s eyes narrowed momentarily before he nodded and turned back to the other injured agents. 

 

Lucy turned her attention back to James, who leaned his head back against the pillows behind him. His hold on her hand loosened slightly as his eyes fluttered closed. Lucy felt tears well in her eyes as his breathing grew slow and even.

 

If he died. . .if he-

 

Lucy scooted forwards and placed her head against James’s hand. 

 

He wouldn’t die, and Lucy would make sure of it.

Chapter 33: Thirty Two

"You didn’t have a choice.”

Kreischberg, Austria

October, 1943

LUCY AWOKE WITH A GASP, sweat trickling down her forehead and goosebumps littering her skin. She almost fell out of her stool as she scanned the room for incoming threats. For once her dreams weren’t littered with Dr. Schaffer. He was replaced by the horrendous sights of enemy deaths. Her heart palpitated in her chest as her hand gripped something warm and soft and moving against her skin. She blearily looked down at her hand to see James rubbing his thumb comfortingly over the back of her hand. 

 

Her eyes trailed to his face and his piercing blue eyes caressed her paranoid self. She breathed deeply as he sat up quietly. The infirmary lights had been shut off at one point during the night and the pair were enveloped in a comforting darkness.

 

“You okay?” James whispered.

 

Lucy didn’t know what to say. Just a few weeks ago she would’ve known but now she couldn’t say whether or not her current state was okay. A part of her believed it was, because she’d experienced it for years before. It was nothing different than returning to a long lost home.

 

She nods anyway, because James has other things to worry about. His life was on the line, and she couldn’t add onto his stress. She rubbed her temple with a soft sigh.

 

“How are you feeling?” She asks quietly.

 

His lips tilt upwards in a small smile.

 

“My cough’s gone.” He said, relieved.

 

Lucy relaxed at that, glad he had almost healed overnight. Whatever Dr. Zola had given him was miracle-like. She wondered if it had been a cure only HYDRA was aware of. It scared her, because that had meant they’d wasted medicine on someone who wasn’t important. 

 

She leaned her head against James’s hospital head again. She kept her eyes open, afraid of falling asleep again. A few minutes passed before the sound of feet caught her attention. She lifted her head as James shifted nervously.

 

Dr. Zola appeared at the entrance, approaching the pair with two HYDRA agents. The sleep in her eyes quickly dissipated and she swallowed thickly, hand tightening around James’s. 

 

“Verfall.” He said sharply, and Lucy knew there was no room for argument as his eyes flicked to her. “Prisoner 56898 is going to be put in isolation.”

 

He spoke in accented english, so James could understand. And Lucy hated it, because James’s eyes grew wide and his whole body stiffened. No one ever came back from isolation, and they both knew that. Lucy gently let go of his hand and a look of fear travelled between his eyes as he watched her walk around the hospital bed. She wondered if he really thought she was going to leave him to Dr. Zola or Dr. Schaffer’s hands. She straightened, arms moving in front of her, eyes narrowing to slits.

 

Dr. Zola looked surprised by her movements, but she didn’t back down. She activated her abilities and white wisps unfurled across her fingers. A ball of energy circled between her hands and she stared at them threateningly. Dr. Zola took a step forward and the energy grew fiercely.

 

“Don’t take another step.” She hissed. 

 

There was a tense standoff, lasting more or less than a minute, before Dr. Zola turned on his heel and walked out of the infirmary in silence. Lucy didn’t let her guard down, though she was somewhat confused. She felt James place a hand on her elbow but she barely registered his warm fingers grazing her skin. She was too focused on the two guards standing in front of them.

 

Dr. Zola returned just as fast as he’d left, except, this time, Dr. Schaffer followed, a towering force who loomed over Dr. Zola. He had a bright glimmer jumping between his eyes, and his gaze was focused on Lucy, and only her.

 

Cold sweat trickled down her forehead, and her bones went stiff as the energy between her hands wavered. She grimaced as Dr. Schaffer stepped in front of her with long calm strides. She took a step back and her legs hit the edge of James’s bed. Dr. Schaffer flicked his tongue and a tremor travelled through her body, but the fog between her hands didn’t disappear. 

 

She shivered.

 

Dr. Schaffer looked displeased, and soft German left his lips, beckoning, caring.

 

“Du musst tun, was am besten ist, Ver.”

 

You have to do what is best, Ver.

 

He recited and Lucy felt the cogs in her brain click at the familiar sound. The energy between her hands fizzled as she tried to breath.

 

“Das Beste ist, sich zu fügen.”

 

What is best is you comply.

 

She snapped her head to the side as her heart sprinted inside of her chest. She could feel the walls closing in and the familiar feeling of her isolation chamber churning within her mind. She wanted to plea but her voice wasn’t working.

 

Dr. Schaffer took another step closer and her eyes grew wide as he placed a tender yet calloused hand on the side of cheek and she flinched instinctively. He leaned forwards and the energy around Lucy disappeared as she lowered her hands to her sides. She felt like she was walking through mud and feeling through murky water. She could see but it was like there was a fog covering her vision.

 

She couldn’t speak.

 

“Folgebereitschaft wird belohnt.”

 

Compliance will be rewarded.

 

He said intently besides her ear. 

 

She straightened, her head horizontal to the ground as she stared ahead of her blankly. A chuckle escaped Dr. Schaffer’s lips and Lucy- who was more fearful to do anything, who was more the Soldier than a person- did nothing as he dropped one hand to his pistol and lifted it to her forehead. Verfall did not spare the gun a glance, though she was momentarily distracted by the horrified inhale of breath behind her. 

 

It was James, Verfall knew that- she knew she knew him- but she wasn’t supposed to do anything so she did nothing.

 

“You will follow the Doctor without a question. Understood?” Dr. Schaffer said with a smile, a grin on his lips.

 

James stared with gritted teeth, his eyes glued on Verfall. He breathed deeply and made his decision rather simply. He climbed out of the hospital bed and watched with a suppressed look of confusion. He didn’t understand. He wouldn’t understand.

 

Dr. Schaffer watched carefully as James walked over to Dr. Zola. The guards grasped him by the arms roughly and he protested in response. They dragged him out of the room and Verfall felt her heart twist in her chest. 

 

She ignored the feeling.

 

Dr. Schaffer turned to her when they were gone, ignorant of the other injured soldiers who had watched silently. He clasped his hands together.

 

“Folgen.”

 

Follow.

 

He ordered and she lowered her head, following behind him with an obedient gaze. They exited the infirmary and Verfall walked down the hall, familiar walls which led to Dr. Schaffer’s room. 

 

She entered his room reluctantly because this wasn’t a place she was allowed to be. It was her handler’s room and this wasn’t supposed to be right. Dr. Schaffer shut the door behind him and she stood in front of his bed with a blank expression. She could feel his stare, eyes too cheerful to be true. 

 

“Lucy.” He stated simply as he stepped a foot in front of her. 

 

She winced at her name, a reaction she couldn’t control. But she wasn’t supposed to respond to it so she expected him to be angry. Instead his cheerful look was replaced by impatience.

 

“Lucy.” He repeated, snapping his fingers in front of her face. 

 

Maybe he wanted her to react to him. She wasn’t sure, but the murkiness in her mind had started to dissipate and she recognized her surroundings better. 

 

“Du bist eine störrische kleine Fotze.”

 

You’re a stubborn little bitch. 

 

He glowered.

 

She blinked furiously as she glanced around the interior. She had known this had been Dr. Schaffer’s room but it hadn’t yet reached her conscience. She remembered walking down the hall and leaving the infirmary but her conditioning had put her on auto pilot and-

 

And she realized James was gone.

 

Her stomach lurched and she moved her foot towards the door in a move of desperation. But Dr. Schaffer stepped right in front of her, lips tilted upwards in an unnerving grin as he grabbed her arm, nails digging into her skin. She winced as he dragged her towards his bathroom, throwing her onto the tile near a bathtub. She hit the ground hard and her face twisted with pain. 

 

He shut the bathroom door and maneuvered around her. She curled inwards on herself, expecting him to hit her as she tried to activate her abilities. Every time she did, a migraine sped across her head and it wouldn’t work. Her hands twitched as she tried to sit up. 

 

She didn’t understand. 

 

The atoms were disrupted but she hadn’t thought he’d put high-pitched frequencies within his room, so high she couldn’t hear it.

 

Lucy looked up and swallowed fearfully as the sound of rushing water echoed in her ears.

 

“Was ist eigentlich so außergewöhnlich an ihm, hm?”

 

What is so special about him anyway, huh?

 

He said conversationally as he gazed down at her, one hand on the faucet handle as water poured into the tub. 

 

She pushed herself backwards with wide eyes of horror. She was familiar with the feeling of drowning, and she had no interest in experiencing it again. She hated it more than anything else, and she instinctively crawled backwards, back hitting the bathroom door. She turned around and grabbed onto the door knob as Dr. Schaffer cleared his throat.

 

“Soll ich James für dich töten?”

 

Should I kill James for you?

 

Her hand froze, hovering above the metal.

 

She slowly lowered it, tense shoulders dropping as she shut her eyes. She turned away from the door, the only escape she had. She knew Dr. Schaffer could see the moment she gave up, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t risk someone else’s life when she knew she wasn’t going to die here.

 

Dr. Schaffer grinned as he turned the faucet, water droplets plopping against the tub. Her hands trembled, frozen with panic and fear as Dr. Schaffer grabbed her by the hair and tugged her forwards. She found herself sitting in front of the tub with a tear-filled gaze.

 

Dr. Schaffer let out a soft sigh.

 

“Ich will dir nicht wehtun, Ver.”

 

I don’t want to hurt you, Ver.

 

He hummed as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

 

“Ich musse. Sie tun sich das selber an.”

 

I have to. You’re doing this to yourself.

 

His eyes glinted with amusement and Lucy had a feeling he enjoyed every moment of her torment, but she wanted so badly to believe him- so much her heart hurt.

 

He placed a hand on the back of her head, and as the water grew closer she immediately regretted being so compliant. She shook, trying to push herself on her feet as Dr. Schaffer put a foot on her hand. He leaned his elbow harshly against her back and she buckled forwards, head submerging in the water. 

 

She screamed, but barely any sounds could be heard under the blanket of water seeping into her ears and battling against her tightly sealed lips. At first her panic had subdued partly, only because she could hold her breath a bit longer than before. But as soon as she could feel the air inside of her start to run out the panic reappeared, crashing into her with full force as she started to thrash around. She felt like she was gasping for air while gasping for air. Her chest heaved as a sharp knife-like pain bloomed across her lungs. It was like her head had fallen in an unexpected sinkhole with waves pressing against her head. The most unnerving thing about her submerged head was her dry and safe body sitting beside the tub. She was so close to safety, yet so far, that it embedded a hopelessness in her chest that only grew at the thought of James in an isolation chamber being experimented on like Dr. Zola had mentioned. 

 

Experimented for what, she didn’t know.

 

One hand reached up to the tub and she tried to shove herself upwards but Dr. Schaffer’s foot dug harder into her other hand. She let out a cry as something snapped and her painful struggling grew sluggish.

 

Her vision started to go dim and a faint ringing started in her ears. Everything was going white- or black- she couldn’t tell as her mind dulled. Every fiber of her being grew exhausted and the hand on the edge of the tub dropped as she sagged against the bathtub. 

 

Just when her vision started to disappear completely Dr. Schaffer wrenched her head back out of the water, grasping her hair with an almost careful grip. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped for air, inhaling for a mere second, enough to hear Dr. Schaffer clicking his tongue in disappointment,  before her head was pushed back into the water. She shook furiously, trying to get his hand off her head but his grip only grew tighter- painful.

 

Again, when she felt her vision darken, Dr. Schaffer pulled her head back out of the tub. Then pushed her back in. She didn’t know how long it lasted but by the time he pulled her head back for the last time she was exhausted and ended up leaning against the leg pinning her hand against the ground.

 

Dr. Schaffer let go of her hair, soaked and dripping as it dropped against the white tank top she’d been wearing since the other day. 

 

She shivered at the cold, not daring to look at Dr. Schaffer’s eyes, knowing the muttering of disappointment that had escaped his lips would be reflected in his eyes. 

 

She hated that she cared what he thought.

 

He stepped off of her hand, a frown on his face.

 

“Oh je. Ich verlor die Beherrschung.”

 

Oh dear. I lost my temper.

 

He didn’t seem too bothered by it, and Lucy knew she’d be healed by tomorrow night.

 

Dr. Schaffer was well aware of the prospect as well, shoving his hands into his pockets as his dark eyes shifted to the bathtub.

 

“Geh duchsen. Kleidung wird auf dem Bett sein und ich erwarte, dass du schläfst.”

 

Take a shower. Clothes will be on the bed and I expect you to sleep. 

 

He said as he stood.

 

“Wandern Sie nicht weg auf der Suche nach James. Ich werde es wissen, aber das weißt du doch, oder?”

 

Don’t wander off in search of James. I will know, but you know that, don’t you?

 

He moved towards the door, and Lucy was relieved to see him leave, only for him to turn on his heel with a sudden change of mind.

 

“O, bevor ich es vergesse.”

 

Oh, before I forget.

 

He opened the cabinet to the sink where a sleek black jewelry box was sitting innocently in the corner. He grabbed it and flicked it open to reveal familiar pieces of shimmering metal. Her blood ran cold as he grabbed her hands, clicking the pieces over her wrists, locking them in place with a tiny pin he pocketed.

 

“Wir wollen nicht, dass du jetzt irgendwelche Ideen bekommst, oder?”

 

We don’t want you to get any ideas now, do we?

 

She said nothing until she realized he wanted an answer.

 

“Ja, Herr.”

 

Yes, sir.

 

She croaked, and Dr. Schaffer beamed like a child given candy as he ruffled her hair.

 

“Das ist mein Ver.”

 

That’s the Ver I know.

 

He smiled.

 

She listened to his feet hitting the ground as he opened the bathroom door and shut it behind him. She heard him open the door to his HYDRA given room, then his footsteps disappearing. 

 

She blinked, before bursting into shaken sobs. She could barely contain herself as she clutched at her chest, terrified with what would happen to James, not that she wasn’t the ever disappointing person she was. A faint part of her mind showed an image of Peggy scolding her for thinking such a thing but she didn’t care.

 

Peggy was wrong.

 

Lucy was a disappointment and wasn’t even able to save James from HYDRA. She clutched the side of the bathtub, shakily pushing herself to her feet as tears dropped from her chin and hit the water with a plop. The sound was wounding as she unplugged the bathtub, watching the water that had almost drowned her several times disappear down the drain. She looked up at the shower head above her.

 

She’d only taken ten minutes to clean herself from the grime that’s accumulated over the two days. The smell of antiseptic from the hospital was replaced by the smell of something like men’s cologne. She didn’t know which one was worse as she climbed out of the shower and changed with the clothes provided on the bed.

 

She sat on the bed, instantly greeted by a warmth not found within the cells. Lucy couldn’t help but brush her cheek against the soft blanket. She slipped the covers over her shoulders and laid her head against the pillow, which was covered by a towel so the fabric could avoid being soaked.

 

Guilt hit her quickly afterwards, as she felt more exhausted than she’d felt in a year. She turned her head upwards to stare at the ceiling. 

 

A clock ticked  in the room.

 

Tic tic.

 

She counted them as she refused to let herself sleep. She didn’t deserve the comfort.

 

Her eyes wandered across the room, over and over again until she felt like clawing her eyes out. By the time the door reopened Lucy was beyond tired. The sound jolted her awake though, and she had the urge to sit up. Instead she curled her hands tightly around the blanket as Dr. Schaffer removed his lab coat in silence, then his over shirt as he released a yawn. His shirt was tight enough she could see his abs but loose enough he could maneuver easily. 

 

It made Lucy’s cheeks involuntarily red, and she tried to think of James instead. The thought of James looking similar to Dr. Schaffer at the moment suddenly caused a fever to overcome her. 

 

She liked James, she really did, but thinking of him like that was. . .was pushing it. James was handsome though, she wouldn’t deny it. 

 

She almost scowled at her own thoughts. It was ridiculous for her to think that when she was most likely going to experience hell for the rest of her life. She could only hope James would live by the time Dr. Schaffer would let her visit him.

 

Her breathing was silent as Dr. Schaffer laid in the bed next to her, pulling the blanket around himself as he turned to face the other direction. Lucy let out a breath of relief she didn’t know she was holding. 

 

“Schlaf, bevor ich dich selbst umhaue.”

 

Sleep before I knock you out myself.

 

Dr. Schaffer said, the word rumbling out of his throat and weaved with annoyance.

 

Lucy gulped.

 

“Tut mir leid.”

 

‘M sorry.

 

She muttered before shutting her eyes.

 

Dr. Schaffer shifted for a few seconds, before completely stilling, apart from his chest which rose and fell rhythmically. She lay uncomfortably for a few minutes before hesitantly turning in her side.

 

Dr. Schaffer’s face was relaxed and Lucy wondered if he was younger than her. She was sure he wasn’t, because becoming a doctor took more years in medical school than being a nurse. But in the dark with the faint light of a dim lamp led her to believe he was too young and too innocent to be what he really was.

 

She almost felt guilty for him.

 

Almost.

Chapter 34: Thirty Three

_______________

__________

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C A P T A I N

A M E R I C A

33

“Being protected is not given to the undeserving.”

Kreischberg, Austria

October, 1943

SOMETIME DURING THE NIGHT Lucy realized she was warm, warmer than she’d felt in weeks. She didn’t know why, perhaps the bed was heated. In the morning she realized she’d slept without nightmares. She stifled a yawn as she sleepily snuggled into the source of warmth coming from besides her without a second thought. She was tired and the blanket was warm. When the blanket started to move on its own accord, however, Lucy realized the thing she was latching onto was not a thing but a person. 

 

And not just any person.

 

Her whole body went rigid, hands frozen against his arm. His dark eyes were watching her with amusement and an unsurprised look, as if he knew she preferred the right side of the bed so she could roll over and face the left. She lowered her gaze with a nervous moment of realization. He did know- she’d slept like that in her cell and there was no privacy. Lucy moved her hands and turned on her side to face the other direction. Dr. Schaffer let out a chuckle, as if the whole ordeal wasn’t embarrassing or just inherently wrong.

 

Lucy had the urge to throw up. 

 

He stood from the bed and she grasped the blanket tightly as he entered the bathroom. She lay terrified as she heard the shower faucet turn on. She stayed there for a long time, until she deemed it was safe.

 

She climbed off the bed, letting go of the blanket as she stepped towards the door, hovering her hand on the knob. She stopped, remembering his threat from the other day. 

 

She tried to think this out logically.

 

If she were to leave now, and make her escape, then she’d have to free the rest of the prisoners, as well as James. But she had no keys to the cells and- she looked down at her wrists- she couldn’t use her abilities either.

 

She heard the bathroom door open and immediately moved towards the corner of the room.

 

“Hast du versucht zu gehen?”

 

Were you trying to leave?

 

He questioned offhandedly, as if he hadn’t witnessed her rush towards the corner. 

 

His shirt grew victim to water droplets as he ruffled his hair with a towel. His lips were tilted upwards in a smile and Lucy gazed at him with wide saucer-like eyes.

 

That look in his eyes only darkened and she decided to lower her gaze. She tucked her knees to her chest but he didn’t say anything and that was- that was worse. She inhaled deeply, heart beating furiously in her chest. She felt like she was suffocating, like she was drowning just as she had the other day. 

 

She hated the feeling.

 

“Ich habe daran gedacht.”

 

I thought of it.

 

She blurted before quickly continuing.

 

“Aber ich habe die Tür nicht berührt. Tut mir leid.”

 

But I didn’t touch the door. I-I’m sorry.

 

She had to remember he really knew everything she did.

 

Dr. Schaffer let loose a soft sigh and Lucy didn’t know if that was good or bad so she stayed rooted to her little spot. He walked over towards the door, tilting his head when she didn’t follow.

 

She quickly pushed herself to her feet and stepped besides him as he opened the door. Her eyes flicked back and forth with a small look of hope as they walked down the hall and towards the isolation chambers. She was stupidly hopeful that he wasn’t going to punish her again. She knew it was an idiotic thing to think but she was afraid, for bother herself and James. She shouldn’t have dragged him into this in the first place. It was all her fault, really.

 

Dr. Schaffer stopped in front of a closed door, and Lucy could hear faint words coming from inside. She knew that voice. As soon as Dr. Schaffer opened the door, Lucy sprinted inside.

 

“James!” She cried.

 

He was strapped to a metal table, eyes foggy. Lucy remembered being in the same position as him and her heart twisted in her chest. He looked exhausted but fairly uninjured. It made her worry- the most brutal part of experimenting clearly hadn’t happened yet, but her hope in helping him was dim. His lips, which had been moving, stopped as he shifted his gaze to her. A small smile slipped onto his face and she fiddled with the straps over his body. Then she saw Dr. Schaffer’s shadow loom over her. 

 

She froze.

 

“Ver.” He said warningly. “Do you want me to drown you again?” 

 

She immediately moved her hands away from James and scrambled to the corner of the room, cowering away like a caged animal. The threat hung in the air like a spear ready to stab her in the heart. She was sure he could do worse than that.

 

Dr. Schaffer looked mildly amused, before turning to Dr. Zola, who was near a desk playing with vials of chemicals.

 

James turned his head to look at her with wide eyes of concern. She shook her head, hesitantly giving him a reassuring smile, which quickly dropped when Dr. Schaffer raised his voice against Dr. Zola.

 

“Warum glaubst du, sterben alle?! Du hast das Minus in ein Plus geändert!"

 

Why do you think everyone’s been dying?! You changed the minus to a plus!

 

He sneered and Dr. Zola grimaced, rubbing his temple before pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Ich wusste nicht."

 

I did not. 

 

He huffed, looking over the sheet of paper on his desk. 

 

Dr. Schaffer scowled at Dr. Zola’s denial and eyed his colleague with distaste. His eyes flicked back to Lucy and she hurriedly dropped her gaze to the ground. She felt his gaze remain on her before he cleared his throat.

 

“Ver. Herkommen."

 

Ver. Come here.

 

He said in an impatient manner.

 

She tried to stop the confusion flickering between her eyes as she hesitantly stood to her feet and walked past James who followed her with his gaze. 

 

She wanted to kill both doctors, take James and leave. But-

 

Her eyes reached Dr. Schaffer as he took the sheet of paper from Dr. Zola, who momentarily protested, and handed it to her. 

 

“Du bist klug. Wo sind die Fehler?"

 

You’re smart. Where are the mistakes?

 

He said calmly and she suddenly felt sick.

 

Her heart had fluttered at the compliment, which was more of a statement than anything else. She couldn’t bring herself to kill him. She just- she couldn’t. And she despised the powerless yet hopeful feeling to receive praise from someone like him. He raised an eyebrow and she realized she was starting to stare. She looked down at the sheet of paper, complicated chemical equations adorning it. Dr. Schaffer was partly right, because there were messy number and sign changes halfway into the equation. And from the scribbles she could barely make out the wrong numbers. 

 

She almost wanted to advise Dr. Zola to write legibly.

 

She looked at the sheet, then back to Dr. Schaffer, not lifting her gaze to his eyes. She shuffled on her feet.

 

“Gut?"

 

Well?

 

He said with a frown.

 

“Bleistift."

 

Pencil.

 

She blurted as she placed the paper on the table. She froze, shoulders tensing.

 

Dr. Schaffer looked at her, wondering if he should reprimand her for asking. He sighed and handed her a pencil from the nearby cup. 

 

She felt a tinge of relief fill her, because that meant she had done good enough yesterday, coughing and hacking up water in the bathtub. He was entertained by her struggle and the defeated look she had whenever she let herself accept her demise. He was still in a good mood, even when he argued with Dr. Zola.

 

She just had to keep it that way.

 

She took the pencil and erased the wrong numbers, along with the equations. Then, she flipped the paper over and continued the fixed equation on the other side. She circled her answer, feeling as though she was back in college, and handed the paper to Dr. Schaffer. His eyes scanned the paper and she waited nervously, pencil clutched tightly in her hand as she looked for a change in his expression. His lips curled into a smile and he handed the sheet to Dr. Zola who snatched it out of his hands. Lucy watched the moment his eyes widened before his lips pressed into a thin line.

 

“Danke.”

 

Thanks.

 

Dr. Zola said dryly.

 

She winced. 

 

Trying to get into good graces with Dr. Schaffer had consequently ruined her ability to appease Dr. Zola. But Dr. Zola was less likely to kill her because he wasn’t her handler. She stood their idly, unsure of what to do as they got to work again. Dr. Schaffer had either forgotten her presence, or was simply testing her. She was sure it was the latter, and barely moved. A few minutes passed and she heard James clear his throat. She snapped her head back to look at him and it immediately caught Dr. Schaffer’s attention. 

 

James was still staring at the ceiling.

 

Lucy turned her head back as Dr. Schaffer snatched a vial from Dr. Zola’s hands. The frustrated tension between them was almost deafening as the two doctors stared each other down. Lucy watched and expected Dr. Schaffer to back down as he always did. 

 

But he didn’t.

 

Bright concealed rage flicked between his eyes and Dr. Zola slowly, and reluctantly looked back down at the desk, shuffling around papers. She wondered what fueled Dr. Schaffer’s confidence.

 

He turned away from his colleague and grabbed an unused syringe, filling it with the liquid. Instead of the color she’d been familiar with, it was more of a vague blue. He removed any air that managed to seep into the needle by giving it a test flick. Then he walked over to James and Lucy’s world started spinning.

 

She knew what the consequence was and she knew she was going to do something drastic- she knew she shouldn’t have done anything but she did. 

 

Almost as if her feet moved on her own she sprinted in front of Dr. Schaffer and stopped right in front of James who looked at her with wide eyes.

 

“Lucy.” He said with alarm. “Lucy you shouldn’t-“

 

Her heart stammered in her chest as Dr. Schaffer placed the needle onto a metal tray and grabbed her by the bottom of her chin. His nails pinched into her skin and she winced as he forced her to look up.

 

Dead eyes.

 

Her breath hitched in her throat.

 

“On your knees.” He ordered in English.

 

James started to squirm on the table at the words and Lucy immediately tried to move to her knees. It was a habit to listen to him and it was ingrained in her mind. She suddenly realized she’d never told James about her trigger phrases and wondered if he thought she just laid there and took Dr. Schaffer’s anger- that she did what he asked because she wanted to. 

 

She was just trying to survive.

 

Dr. Schaffer’s grip didn’t loosen at the order and she found herself staring up at him with a strained neck. Her hands clasped behind her back- almost automatically- as she crouched into a half sitting, half standing position. It was uncomfortable and her muscles tensed at the inability to touch the ground with her knees.

 

James continued to struggle against the straps around his arms and torso. Lucy wanted to yell at him, so he could stop, but she remained silent as Dr. Schaffer’s attention moved to him. Panic seized her body and she grabbed onto Dr. Schaffer’s wrist, clawing at his skin, so tight he bled. His eyes flicked to her, wide and glistening with amusement as blood ran down his arm.

 

Good, she thought, look at me, not James.

 

Lucy let go and Dr. Schaffer gazed at his arm. He sighed.

 

“Ver.” He said calmly.

 

She knew what was coming and braced herself as he grabbed her by the hair and slammed her backwards into James. The table skidded back slightly and James’s fingers curled around Lucy’s shoulder to help her sit back. She looked up at him with bleary eyes, and he shook his head at her. She could see the silent plea between his eyes- stop- he cried.

 

And Dr. Schaffer had noticed.

 

He grabbed her by the hair again and she flinched, biting her tongue tightly as he forced her to sit in front of James’s moved table. Dr. Schaffer stared at James angrily- Lucy swore she saw a flicker of jealousy- before looking down at her.

 

She shifted to sit on her knees as he let go of her hair. She stayed as still as possible as he narrowed his eyes. After a moment of thinking he pulled his pistol from his waistband and pointed it right behind Lucy’s left shoulder.

 

“No, no, no, stop!” James howled, his eyes wide and owlish as he struggled.

 

Dr. Schaffer smiled brightly.

 

“Why should I?” He tilted his head. 

 

James looked up at him with horror, before turning to look at Lucy. She looked back at him and he squeezed his eyes tightly for a moment before opening them again, firmly set in his decision.

 

“Lucy I can handle myself.” He said in an unwavering voice. “You have to stop. You- You need to stop. Okay? Just-Just stop.”

 

He was borderline begging at this point and Lucy found herself conflicted. She watched as Dr. Schaffer straightened, glancing back at her. Tears welled in her eyes and Dr. Schaffer’s gaze suddenly softened. He crouched in front of her and placed a calloused hand on her cheek. 

 

He smiled.

 

“I’m sorry.” He grinned, looking more cheerful than apologetic.

 

Confusion flickered between his eyes until his hand travelled down to her neck, covering her ear with his palm, before slamming her hard into the floor. Her ears rang as her head hit the ground painfully. She blinked furiously, trying to keep herself awake, but darkness consumed her quickly.

 

The last thing she saw was James- the horrified look of James.

 

Chapter 35: Thirty Four

"I’m my own person too.”

Kreischberg, Austria

October, 1943

FOUR CONCRETE WALLS SURROUNDED Lucy, bleak and empty. The room was dimly lit by a single lightbulb in the ceiling, which flickered seldom so. At least the light wouldn’t drive her crazy this time. She laid on her side, facing the door. She rubbed her eyes tiredly. She didn’t know how much time had passed since she’d awoken in the cell, but she knew it must’ve been days. It had to still be October- maybe the last week. It was the one thing she was confident in knowing. She’d been alone without any food and she was more or less frail. Her ankles were cuffed to a set of chains connected to the wall. She could sleep a foot away from the door- any further and she’d be in constant pain.

 

She didn’t sleep in front of the door when she first woke up. She liked to think she was okay with being completely alone with a broken light source for a whole day, but she had a nagging feeling that she sat in front of the cell door only after a few hours. 

 

She felt trapped and she wanted out.

 

When enough time passed she started to move closer and closer to the door, an aching feeling in her chest. It was something she couldn’t quite identify as she started to wait for the door to open. It didn’t, for an insufferable amount of time, and Lucy started to grow desperate. The only person who could take her out of this room was Dr. Schaffer. No matter how many times she called for James, or for them to leave James alone, they wouldn’t open the door, and she’d be stuck here. 

 

For however long they wanted. 

 

She sniffled, hugging herself as she drew her knees higher up to her chest. She waited and waited and continued to wait, her hope crumbling with every hour that passed.

 

When she finally heard the lock click open she vaguely wondered if she was hallucinating. Then the lock fully turned and she shot up from the ground, into a sitting position as the door was pushed open. All embarrassment and humiliation left her as she latched onto the person that appeared in front of her. Dr. Schaffer shut the door behind him as she grasped onto his pant leg, hands trembling as he crouched in front of her. He placed a stack of familiar clothes in front of her, accompanied by her old ballet shoes.

 

Horror seeped from her gut, knowing full well she had no strength to dance for hours like he’d want. But she could only feel relieved- someone else had finally entered her cell. He unshackled the cuffs around her ankles. Then said nothing as he stood and turned back towards the door to leave.

 

Lucy's eyes grew wide and she reached towards him. She grasped his ankle, tears welling in her eyes.

 

“Aufenthalt. Bitte.”

 

Stay. Please.

 

She whimpered and he stopped with a satisfied look on his face.

 

He raised an eyebrow expectantly and Lu- Verfall grasped the dress, her helpless demeanor replaced by mechanical movements as she removed her clothes and changed efficiently into her newly given ones. She sat on the ground and bent her ballet shoes so it would fit better before slipping them onto her feet. Swallowing her hunger, she arched her feet to grow comfortable in her shoes, before looking to Dr. Schaffer for instructions. 

 

He placed a box radio on the ground and turned the knob. Classical music filled the air as he walked over to the far side of the room. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. 

 

Verfall stepped to the middle of the room, memories of choreography slipping across her mind. She breathed a calm breath, before taking her first step. She kept her eyes trained ahead of her, steady on her toes as her muscles whined against her bones. She ignored the aching in her legs as she pivoted. She did a jeté as if it were like walking, with absolute perfect form, and Dr. Schaffer continued to watch with no inflection in his expression. The room wasn’t exactly confined, so she was able to do the usual routine he expected. 

 

She stood poised at the end of the song, the radio picking up a new song next. She was already tired from dehydration and she felt dizzy as she immediately picked up the routine, tweaking it when needed to match the music. She fluttered on her feet, and tried to appease him as best as she could. 

 

She twisted in the air, raising her leg and landing graceful back onto her tiptoes. When the song ended, another played and Verfall continued to dance without a single word of protest. She winced as her feet travelled across the room, pain ripping through her legs and arms as she continuously moved. 

 

Dr. Schaffer remained silent the whole time and Verfall’s heart was beating terribly inside of her chest, wanting nothing but to receive his praise.

 

She swallowed thickly and continued the routine for what felt like hours, until her ankle buckled painfully and she fell to the ground with a loud thud.

 

She froze, unmoving as Dr. Schaffer flicked a lighter in his hand.

 

Flick- Snap- Flick- Snap.

 

He pulled a cigarette from his lab coat and put it between his teeth. He lit it and stalked towards her, causing Verfall to tremble, hands pressed against the ground.

 

His shiny shoes appeared in front of her and she wasn’t surprised by the cigarette smoke that blew straight into her nose. She gasped for breath, coughing as the deadly smoke curled around her body. 

 

He chuckled with a smile before holding his hand out.

 

She held up a shaky palm and grasped onto his warm hand as he pulled her to her feet. He breathed another long breath of smoke before dropping the barely used cigarette on the ground. He removed his lab coat to reveal sleek black clothing, different from his usual attire. 

 

She listened as another orchestral song erupted from the radio. Dr. Schaffer put two careful and gentle hands on her waist as she started to spin. It was as if his hands couldn’t do any harm and she- she futilely wanted to believe that.  She stopped into a second arabesque position before he carefully walked around her, spinning her as he went. 

 

She felt like she could float.

 

She leaned back slightly in an effacé position, before spinning back around and out of his arms, a few feet away from him. She bowed herself into a penché, and he stepped towards her in surprisingly smooth feet. He held his hand out, eyes brighter than she’d ever seen.

 

She took his hand.

 

His smile and gaze softened as she leaned forward in another penché, fingers grazing the floor. He grasped her other arm to keep her balanced before bringing her back up again. With his help she felt less tired and more confident in her ability to keep dancing.

 

It should’ve been alarming, but there was nothing wrong with her handler teaching her a lesson, right?

 

He pulled herself up and she gracefully turned halfway, before lifting her right leg and leaning back into his arm. He held her there for some time, and she looked up at him with an anxious feeling brewing inside of her chest. 

 

Had she done something wrong?

 

He continued to trace her face with his eyes before he gently put her back on her feet. It was silent for a few long moments before he let go of her waist and walked over to his fallen lab coat. He pulled it over his shoulders and walked towards the exit. She rushed towards him, gracefulness forgotten as her knees buckled. She reached forward, grasping onto his hand before he could leave.

 

“Nein- Nein- Bitte. Ich werde es besser machen!”

 

No- No- Please. I’ll be better!

 

She gasped as tears threatened to trickle down her face. She whimpered as he turned to look at her with a cold gaze.

 

“Ihnen liegt sehr viel an ihm.”

 

You care about him so much.

 

He said harshly and it took Verfall a moment to realize what he meant.

 

It clicked quite quickly in her head. 

 

He was talking about James.

 

Dr. Schaffer tried to take another step forward and Ver- Lucy, yes, because this was what she had stooped to, because she was vulnerable and she was fragile and she was breakable unlike her unemotional self- 

 

“Nein.”

 

No.

 

She denied quietly, but they both knew that wasn’t true.

 

His gaze flickered down to her pleading form, hunched over and tears threatening to fall. His eyes darkened considerably but Lucy didn’t notice as she held tight to his hand. He crouched in front of her, placing a gentle hand on her cheek, almost experimentally. 

 

The feeling was almost unfamiliar after being isolated for so long. Lucy leaned into his skin, eyes closing shut at the warmth. 

 

He chuckled softly.

 

“I know you can do better, Ver.”

 

I know you can do better, Ver.

 

He said.

 

“Aber du brauchst meine Hilfe. Du kannst nicht allein perfekt sein. Verstehen?”

 

But you need my help. You can’t be perfect alone. Understand?

 

Lucy looked up at him with confusion and he removed his other hand from hers, cupping her face as he wiped a tear that’d fallen. He gently moved one of his hands up to her hair, threading his fingers through the knots. 

 

She nodded her head, knowing the gesture was pointless. He would do whatever he wanted and she wouldn’t have a choice in the matter.

 

“Gut. Du gehörst mir, Ver. Mine.”

 

Good. You’re mine, Ver. Mine.

 

Her eyes widened slightly, body shaking at the claim. But she nodded nonetheless, because there’s nothing else she can do in this situation. 

 

His grip grew painful for a moment, proving how dangerous his gentle hands could be, before pulling away. He grabbed ahold of his radio, but left the cigarette beside her. She watched him leave the cell with conflicted emotions, hatred, confusion and- and something else she despised to admit.

 

When the door locked with a click she reached for her other clothes, and slowly, painstakingly, changed. She winced at the pain sputtering through her leg and tried to stand up. It might’ve been the worst idea she ever had as she slammed into the ground, knees cracking. She inhaled sharply, shaky hands pulling herself back towards the wall farthest to the door. 

 

She hesitated.

 

With the light in the room, anyone on the other side could see where she was if she was close enough to the door. That meant Dr. Schaffer could see her shadow, or anyone for that matter through the small space under the door. Maybe that was her mistake- maybe he hadn’t visited her because she hadn’t sat in front of the door. She momentarily thought it was ridiculous, but pulled herself forwards anyway. 

 

Her legs ached as she sat in front of the metal door, laying on her side as she placed her head atop her hand. She watched, hearing footsteps travel back and forth across the halls.

 

After a moment her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing grew soft as she slowly fell asleep.

 

She was so exhausted she didn’t wake up, hours later, when the door opened. 

 

Dr. Schaffer looked down at her with a grin so dark he couldn’t possibly be human. He gently tucked his arms under her body and pulled her into a bridal hold. His eyes flicked back and forth across the halls, now empty, before keeping the door ajar, lock open.

 

He carried her to his room and placed her carefully on the bed, amused by her surprisingly relaxed face.

 

He shut and locked the door before his happy expression morphed into one of frustration and rage. He entered an elevator and travelled up to the highest level. His feet hit the ground hurriedly as he entered Schmidt’s office, though it was more like a lair.

 

“Sie ist weg.”

 

She’s gone.

 

He said, out of breath.

 

Schmidt turned away from the notes of his newest project, tilting his head back slightly. Dr. Schaffer watched his silhouette carefully. He let out a long breath.

 

“Es muss noch einen Doppelagenten geben.”

 

There must still be another double agent.

 

Schmidt remarked.

 

Dr. Schaffer’s lips curled into a menacing grin, though Schmidt saw nothing as he continued to face the window to his office.

 

“Ich habe eine Suche gestartet. Sowohl hier, als auch draußen. Sie hätte nicht weit gehen können.”

 

I’ve started a search. Both here, and outside. She couldn’t have gone far.

 

Dr. Schaffer snarled, turning back on his heel, his voice controlled and rage-filled.

 

Schmidt let out an annoyed sigh.

 

“Danke, Henry.”

 

Thank you, Henry.

 

Dr. Schaffer smiled brightly, knowing Ver was right in the palm of his hand.

 

“Natürlich.”

 

Of course.

 

After all, a psychopath with no discipline only cared about himself.

Chapter 36: Thirty Five

"They always take freedom for granted.”

Kreischberg, Austria

November, 1943

VERFALL, QUITE FRANKLY, HAD turned Dr. Schaffer’s bathroom into a makeshift home. For the most part she was confused. She was sure HYDRA or Schmidt or someone would wonder where the hell she disappeared to, but yet, it seemed as if no one was looking for her. After waking up on the tiled floor with a single blanket draped over her body, she never left the place, remaining wherever he pointed her to be. Sometimes he wouldn’t open the door for a few days, until she would start banging her hands against the door and cry. 

 

Whenever he would enter he’d promised they’d leave and he’d take her with him. It terrified her to the bone, but warmed her heart at the same time. She didn’t know how to understand herself. Afterwards he would give her lightweight clothes and she would train for hours, with Dr. Schaffer making notes about her endurance. Then he’d give her an IV drip, sitting by her until she fell asleep. 

 

If he decided to grace her with his presence the next day it would be the same. And Verfall found herself more at ease than she’d ever been. Of course, if  his mood was ever darkened by Dr. Zola, a prisoner or an agent he’d occasionally slam her into the wall or pistol whip her in the face. It was nothing out of the ordinary, and Verfall didn’t mind it, especially when he turned around with affection afterwards.

 

A few days into her stay within the bathroom, he’d handed her a black dagger with a white hilt. She’d stared up at him with wide eyes, terrified he wasn’t gifting it to her, but rather preferred to use it as punishment. She was surprised when it wasn’t the latter, and had merely started to teach her to use it better instead.

 

A silent sigh escaped her lips as she  stood from her blanket covered corner, muscles aching as she stumbled towards the door. It had been a few days since he’d opened it and she slumped to the ground, staring up at the knob with teary eyes. She heard the door to his room open, then suddenly shut, with a slam so loud it almost made her jump. 

 

She heard foreign voices and shouts of panic as the building itself rumbled. Her eyes widened and she trembled as she scrambled back into the wall of the bathroom. She winced slightly, waiting for anyone to open the door. 

 

The building shook again and she swallowed thickly. She momentarily thought of using her dagger, but for what? There was nothing she could do with it. With brute strength she could break down the door, but. . .Dr. Schaffer hadn’t given permission or allowed it and there weren’t any failsafes built in her programming.

 

She heard more shouting, and a clearly American voice. It was familiar to her ears but it only made her uneasy. She pressed her back flat against the wall, drawing the blanket up to her chest as the building continued to tremble.

 

The door to the room opened, then the bathroom door started to shake. She vaguely felt like she was in a horror movie as she watched the knob trying to turn. The turning stopped, and the person on the other side ripped open the door.

 

“Joining the army gave you that?” She heard a disbelieving voice say.

 

She looked up with wide eyes as a tuft of brown and blonde hair appeared in the doorway. 

 

James was leaning against the wall, exhaustion flickering between his eyes. He stumbled over his legs to enter the room and Steve immediately put a hand on his shoulder, as if to say he got this. 

 

Verfall’s eyes were guarded and she clutched the blanket harshly. If not for the fabric she would’ve drawn blood from her palms.

 

Steve’s eyes flickered over her face, but she didn’t have any bruises or notable wounds. He stepped over towards her and she immediately pulled herself harshly back into the corner. Steve immediately retracted his hand and she gazed at him with fear. He looked regretful and turned back to James- James who stumbled towards her, ignoring Steve and almost falling in front of her.

 

He grabbed her hand and she inhaled deeply as he tugged her onto her feet. She could barely protest as he pulled her out of the room. Steve looked conflicted as he followed them, towering over the pair as they hurriedly sprinted through the halls.

 

Verfall dragged her feet, having no other desire but to wait for Dr. Schaffer to return, even if the building would be turned into nothing but rubble.

 

“Come on!” James shouted over the explosions and Verfall winced.

 

She followed the pair, travelling up a flight of stairs and towards a catwalk. She almost ran into Steve who skidded to a stop at the sight of Schmidt. 

 

“Captain America! How exciting!” He shouted, handing Dr. Zola his suitcase. “I am a great fan of your films!” 

 

James stumbled beside her, horrified eyes immediately meeting Dr. Zola’s gaze. Verfall barely noticed, instead looking wildly for Dr. Schaffer who was nowhere to be seen. 

 

He couldn’t be dead. 

 

He couldn’t be.

 

In her frantic search she locked eyes with Schmidt who tilted his head with a sadistic grin. 

 

“I see you are still alive, Soldat.” He sneered. “You came back to save your friends, yes?”

 

She gazed at him with an emotionless look. She was confused by his words, because she’d been in the base all this time. Then it occurred to her Dr. Schaffer may have been more selfish than she thought. It made sense to her- he wouldn’t let her leave the bathroom. And she wasn’t going to announce his selfishness to the world.

 

Steve stepped forwards, in front of both of them protectively as he walked onto the catwalk.

 

Verfall felt the weight of Schmidt’s gaze shift to Steve and she immediately was relieved.

 

“So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all.” Schmidt grinned dangerously. “Not exactly an improvement. But- still- impressive.”

 

He cocked his head to the side, eyes shifting to Verfall who took a terrified step back from him. He flashed his teeth like a shark and she lowered her gaze, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as she shuffled closer to James.

 

Steve suddenly lifted his fist, punching Schmidt hard in the face. She winced at the crack sound. Schmidt grasped the railings to the catwalk, chuckling as his- his skin moved slightly across his head.

 

“You have no idea.” Steve replied, eyes confused at the sight.

 

Schmidt stood straighter, before slamming his fist into Steve’s American-Flag shield, leaving a dent as Steve reached for his gun. Schmidt slammed it out of his hand and Steve stumbled backwards, before kicking the tyrant hard in the chest. Dr. Zola put his hand on the lever and turned to Verfall with a glare.

 

“Jump!” He shouted and she looked down at the railing as he pulled the lever.

 

It started to split in half and Verfall took a step back before moving to run forwards and leap across the small platform. James shouted in alarm, lunging towards her and grabbing her shoulders. She gasped at the weight, falling backwards as the catwalk completely detached.

 

That was her only chance to find Dr. Schaffer. To see him again and to run away just like he’d said.

 

“Are you crazy?!” James whispered into her ear as he wrestled her onto the ground.

 

Verfall felt every muscle in her body loosen, knowing it was better to let herself get hit than to resist. James looked down at her, horrified by reaction. 

 

He had witnessed her abuse and he should’ve known. 

 

He released her almost instantly, though one hand shot out to grab ahold of her arm so she wouldn’t try to run- or- or escape. James never thought Lucy would try to escape her friends.

 

She wiped her eyes, having an out of body sensation as Schmidt peeled off his face to reveal a crimson red skull. His wide eyes shifted to her and she immediately dropped her gaze. She felt like she was walking through a swamp, dragging her legs through mud, water up to her waist and threatening to drag her underwater. But her head was most definitely underwater, so maybe she was being dragged across the ocean floor. 

 

She followed Steve and James up another flight of stairs, fast and hurried as they stumbled over their feet. There was a long beam connecting one side of the railings to the other. More explosions shook the building and she glanced back at Steve.

 

“One at a time.” He said hurriedly, helping James step over onto the beam. 

 

Verfall watched with a terrible feeling in her chest, eyes wide as he balanced with his arms, climbing over the metal. It creaked as James went to the middle. As he approached the end she was horrified to see the beam fall. He jumped and grabbed the rails before he could fall to his death. 

 

She looked down at her hands, the silver bracelets on her wrists glinting almost tauntingly. 

 

“Just go!” Steve shouted to James and she looked back at him.

 

“No! Not without you! Both of you!” He cried.

 

Verfall looked at Steve who gazed at her for a long time. He nodded at her, and she seemed to understand his eyes even though she was more Soldat then herself. 

 

They both took a running start, leaping across the fiery pit beneath them. Steve grabbed onto the railing, pulling himself up with the help of James. 

 

Verfall wrapped her hand around the middle railing, though she flipped herself forwards without James’s help. 

 

The three of them travelled up to the roof through another flight of stairs and for the first time in a month Verfall saw the night sky and the hundreds of stars. She stumbled alongside James and Steve, climbing off the roof and approaching a huge mass of American soldiers, holding a HYDRA tank hostage, alongside their weapons.

 

A few guns were raised, pointed towards Lucy as James and Steve walked in front of her with more protectiveness than she’d ever felt- apart from Dr. Schaffer’s careful and watchful eyes. 

 

She felt tears fill her eyes and she sniffled.

 

“Is that. . .Lu?” 

 

She barely looked up at Dum Dum’s voice, instead hugging herself tightly.

 

James turned around, a concerned look on his face as he reached a hand towards her. She flinched, stumbling back and hitting the ground. Her eyes grew wide at the amount of people staring at her. 

 

Maybe it was due to her hair that now hung besides her chin. Maybe it was due to the black attire that was adorned with a HYDRA emblem. Maybe it was the white thigh holster fitted with a dagger that peaked their curiosity.

 

“Give her some space.” Steve said, taking a defensive step forwards.

 

James put a gentle hand on her upper arm, turning themselves away from all of the soldiers’s intense stares. She followed him towards an empty corner as Steve started shouting orders to everyone else, falling into the role of captain.

 

James gazed at her with concern and she avoided looking into his eyes. He removed his hand from her arm, feeling guilty for even touching her in this condition. His mind immediately thought of the worst, but he tried not to be overly worried as he cleared his throat.

 

“Lucy?” He spoke softly. “Are you alright?”

 

Her eyes flicked up to him before quickly jumping back down. She knew the person standing in front of her was James- the same James who had her back in the battlefield- but she also knew she wasn’t allowed to be here, or much less leave. She was supposed to be with Dr. Schaffer who promised- who-

 

“He promised.” She said, the words weighing heavily on her tongue.

 

It occurred to her he might’ve left without her just so she could experience what it felt like to have choices and to be alone again. To remind her she relied on him more than anything. She vaguely thought the dagger that pressed into her thigh was supposed to be a reminder- that he was there even though he physically wasn’t. She didn’t know if that was for better or for worse.

 

James furrowed his eyebrows, uncomprehending, and Verfall grasped onto his arm. Her eyes were glistening with tears and she felt her heart beat faster in her chest.

 

It took a few seconds before James understood who she was talking about. He was more disgusted by Dr. Schaffer’s actions than the fact she cared so much about him. He tried to make sense of it and vaguely felt as though it did make sense- if Dr. Schaffer was the only person Lucy saw for days and she wasn’t injured, well, he wondered.

 

“I know.” James lied softly, before continuing. “But he isn’t here and we gotta go.”

 

He gently placed a hand on top of hers, and Verfall’s grip on his arm loosened. 

 

She didn’t want to leave even though she wasn’t supposed to have wants. She was supposed to stay put and wait for her handler but Dr. Schaffer was- was gone.

 

“We gotta go home.” 

 

She wanted to say her home was Dr.Schaffer. But she didn’t. 

 

It wasn’t her place to do so.

 

“Okay.” She whispered.

 

Chapter 37: Thirty Six

"Patience is virtue.”

Kreischberg, Austria

November, 1943

“WE NEED TO REMOVE those.” James almost demanded as he pointed to the silver cuffs circling Lucy’s hands.

 

Verfall reluctantly looked up at him, frowning slightly at his remark. She then looked to Steve who was sitting besides them. They had walked non-stop for two days sitting to rest only when night fell on the third day. Verfall thought it should’ve been the other way around- at least in the dark they wouldn’t be easily spotted. But she said nothing, instead resting alongside the two people she guessed were her friends. Her heart had ached ever since she left the base. Every step she took felt inherently wrong and was against all of her programming. 

 

To say the least, she was horrified.

 

Steve shifted his gaze to Verfall and she felt uneasy, leaning closer towards James, though her mind was having a hard time deciphering him from Dr. Schaffer. She wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the resemblance of their hairstyles, and the soft hand that’d grabbed her elbow when she was trembling in the corner of the bathroom. James’s soft actions were remarkably similar to Dr. Schaffer’s, though she was yet to see if he was as terrifying.

 

Steve’s deep sea-eyes softened and his lips tilted upwards in a comforting smile. With his blonde hair reflecting the sun she vaguely wondered if he was a golden retriever in his past life, not that she believed in that sort of thing. 

 

“If these aren’t trackers, and you’re not comfortable removing them, we don’t need to.” He said kindly.

 

She swallowed nervously.

 

Dr. Schaffer had changed her cuffs early on during her stay in the bathroom. They still shocked her when they were tugged hard or if she used her abilities. But as of having trackers in them, well, he never said. She supposed it would be convenient for the pair to try and remove them but she’d be in extreme pain.

 

She looked up at him, speaking reluctantly.

 

“I’m not sure.” She said. “He never told me.”

 

Steve’s lips tilted downwards into a small frown, though the soft glimmer in his eyes didn’t dissipate. James cleared his throat, looking up at her curiously, a gaze she didn’t mind.

 

“When you-“ he glanced at Steve, then hurriedly back to his hands, “-visited me in isolation. With that asshole. You had those on too, didn’t ya?”

 

Verfall winced at the way James spoke about Dr. Schaffer, before nodding with agreement. 

 

“What do they do?” He asked gently.

 

She fiddled with her fingers, tapping them in a one, two, one, two, three pattern.

 

“50,000 volts with an output of 3.6 mA delivers a shock to the Verfall Soldier when it’s abilities are in use or if tugged harshly.” She said in a mechanic tone.

 

She watched as their facial expressions morphed with every word she spoke. At first their eyebrows flattened and raised at the ends, horrified by her words. Then they both sputtered at her use of third person. And their comical reaction towards calling herself an ‘it’ would’ve been amusing if it weren’t for the situation at hand.

 

She felt guilt swell in her chest, not meaning to disgust them in any way. She almost went to apologize, only to be stopped by James abruptly standing up.

 

“I’m goin’a take a breather.” 

 

Steve watched with concern as his best friend travelled across the tents of their fellow soldiers, taking a lap around the area. Verfall felt awkward as she sat besides Steve without knowing what to say.

 

Steve turned to her once James was out of sight, brows furrowed.

 

“Abilities?” He asked with confusion and she realized she’d never told him.

 

She nodded, and explained softly of her experience with HYDRA, and the powers they gave her. He swallowed anxiously at that, trying not to look horrified and consequently vomit.

 

“So we won’t be able to take them off without hurting you?” He asked carefully, concealing the absolute horror he felt towards the words leaving his lips.

 

She nodded, hair falling into her face as she continued to tap her fingers together.

 

Steve pursed his lips, leaning his chin against his hand as he thought carefully. 

 

Ver fall’s eyes flickered back and forth and she could- she could feel herself grow less empty in the silence. But in the moment she felt most like herself, Steve shifted in his seat and she hurriedly pressed all of her emotions to the bottom of her stomach, waiting attentively for her fate. A few other emotions churned in her chest- terror and fear. Those tended to appease her handler, so she saw no harm in keeping them twisting in her heart. She momentarily wondered if it was the same for Steve and James.

 

“Well,” Steve finally spoke, and her hands clenched into nervous fists, “seeing as we haven’t been attacked yet. . .”

 

He hesitated, so obviously that Verfall partly wondered if she should merely bear with the pain to make his current conflict less frustrating.

 

So that’s exactly what she did. 

 

She climbed off the log they were sitting on and kneeled on the dirt in front of Steve. He immediately moved to stand up or- or join her on the ground, for whatever reason- but was stopped by her wrists, which hovered above his knees.

 

“Removing them means there are zero risks of prisoners being recaptured by HYDRA.” She said mechanically, staring at her hands rather than Steve’s face. “It may be in your interest to remove these.”

 

She kept her voice steady, knowing it would be immensely painful. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t experienced before, though she was sure removing them via electric disabling discs would be less painful. 

 

Steve wasn’t her handler- she wasn’t that mindless- and she only had a faint urge to listen to whatever James said. But another feeling in her heart wanted to listen to him because he was- he was good. He hadn’t attacked her out of a fit of rage, and she was sure Steve possessed double the strength of Dr. Schaffer. Verfall knew if he didn’t value her one bit then she would’ve been dead already. But here he was, being kind and- and thoughtful.

 

“Lucy-“ he said, his voice stern yet somehow soft “- I know that, but-“

 

Verfall flinched at her name and her hands trembled.

 

“Please, sir.” The formal word rolled off her tongue with no familiarity. It wasn’t German and it sounded nowhere near right. “If HYDRA finds your men they will be taken and this time- slaughtered.”

 

She inhaled deeply, arms starting to ache for holding them so long, but not daring to lean them against Steve. He seemed to notice, and he placed a warm hand around her shaking ones.

 

She froze.

 

He stood, pulling her onto her feet. She scrambled slightly, before standing in a hunched position, wondering if she should bow or not.

 

“Would you blame yourself?” He asked quietly as they stood. “Would you blame yourself if that happened?”

 

Verfall stared at Steve’s jacket, the little blemish sitting there catching her attention.

 

She focuses on it, and nods, as if she’d ever had choices just a few days ago. She controlled the wince that always affected her muscles whenever she decided on an answer to a question.

 

“Do you want to take them off?” He emphasized the word, and Verfall wanted to tell him that she couldn’t want anything.

 

She only decided what was more important based on the parameters of her mission- though this mission was unclear. She was in no state of mind to be asked such a question, but Steve had absolutely no idea what horrors she’d experienced. 

 

No one in the camp did.

 

No one.

 

His warm hands grasped onto her’s with such gentleness she wanted to lean into the touch. But she knew how angry Dr. Schaffer would be if he saw her doing such a thing and she vaguely wondered if he’d kill Steve.

 

“Ok.” He says shakily. “Would you like Bucky to be here?”

 

As if summoned by the mention of his name, James rounded the corner of their tent-filled area.

 

None of them knew he’d been hanging close enough to see them. To feel the churning feeling of envy and jealousy as Steve held tight to Lucy’s frail hands, which could somehow kill a person. He didn’t dwell on the latter thought, instead looking away harshly. 

 

Steve deserved someone who loved him for who he was, not what he was.

 

James forced a smile on his lips as he approached the pair. Verfall remained as still as possible as Steve let go of her hands, instead during to James with a regretful and almost guilty look. 

 

As soon as Steve told James of their idea to somehow destroy the silver circling Lucy’s wrist, he, well, he didn’t take the news great. James looked appalled, glancing at Lucy with a look of fury. Which only caused her to violently flinch, a tremor travelling throughout her body.

 

The gaze in his eyes disappeared and he immediately was filled with regret. He knew Lucy wasn’t in her right mind and he apologized, his eyes growing soft. He didn’t really think of himself as patient to begin with, and this situation was only irritating the open wounds Dr. Zola had drilled into him. The nonchalant yet so believable words he spoke.

 

“Lucy.” Steve said gently. “Do you have any idea on how to remove them?”

 

He waved his hands to Vefall’s wrists, and she looked down.

 

“Pistol.” She blurted, inhaling sharply at her words.

 

“Pistol.” Steve repeated, looking dumbfounded.

 

She nodded, unsure if he was upset- more so than he already was. Instead of reacting he unclipped his pistol from his waist, handing it to her shakily. James blanched at the sight, but Verfall took the gun swiftly, pointing it at her wrists without a moment of hesitance.

 

She cocked the gun but didn't pull the trigger. She thought of how fast the bullet would impact the slim piece of metal and whether it’d bury into her skin or not. If Steve were to shoot her hands several feet away there was a possibility the bullet would not bury into her wrists. But there was also a possibility where it simply wouldn’t break the metal.

 

She supposed it would feel better than attempting to pry the silver off.

 

She raised the gun several inches higher- both Steve and James turned away- before pulling the trigger. Verfall used her abilities with the hand she’d shot to muffle the sound. Then, she felt the adrenaline naturally kick in as the bullet lodged itself into her wrist, only breaking through her layer of skin. The pain of the bullet was much more bearable compared to the pain of electricity shocking through her entire body. It took everything in her not to convulse on the floor as she dropped to her knees, gasping and shaking with the pistol still in hand. Her muscles ached but she had to get rid of the other cuff. So she put the pistol beside her, and removed the bullet, before moving onto the next one.

 

James let out an alarmed sound as he turned around- something that would’ve come out of an animal.

 

Steve swallowed vomit.

 

But she pulled the trigger on her other hand before he could reach out to her and she stared at her hand indifferently as pain coursed through her body. She was breathless, like she’d run a marathon, and placed the pistol on the log, removing the bullet that’d more than grazed her skin. 

 

She activated her abilities and carefully healed both of her wrists, another stab of pain bubbling across her skin as she knitted her flesh back together.

 

That must’ve been the last straw, because the next thing she knew, she had made friends with the floor and her eyes had pressed shut.

 

When she wakes up she notices two things.

 

One, she was being carried on someone’s back. A firm back that was connected to a blue red and white outfit with a familiar jacket.

 

Two, Steve and James were arguing quite loudly with each other.

 

She froze, her body tensing as she slowly and carefully started to climb off the walking person’s back. A tuft of blonde hair- Steve- stopped at her motions, lowering himself to the ground and letting go of her legs. She, well, she didn’t step off per say, but landed on the ground silently. She finds herself the main attraction at the moment, as the freed prisoners came to a slow stop- staring.

 

“How are you feeling?” 

 

James is the first one to inch closer to her, and she could feel the concerned gaze of Dum Dum behind her. She licked her dry lips, unsure of the answer he wanted. 

 

She shows her wrists to him- perfectly healed, with barely a scar left. Then nods, before they start to walk again.

 

Steve and James don’t start their argument again and she wonders what they’d been talking about. She inwardly scolds herself at that, knowing she had no place speaking to either of them in such a way. 

 

The other soldiers start to talk amongst themselves- not loudly, but normally- and Verfall realizes an awkward silence had settled between James and Steve. 

 

She swallowed, unsure of what to do, or if she could say anything. From the way they refused to look at each other she knew something had gone wrong. She waited, and waited for either of them to speak. None of them did, so, after half an hour, she blurted-

 

“Is it me?” 

 

They both turned to look at her, though they continued walking. Steve and James furrowed their eyebrows and she cleared her throat. 

 

She really didn’t think it was about her, but she didn’t know how else to diffuse this odd tension.

 

“Or- Or my handler. . .erm- Dr. Schaffer?” She grows nervous at her own words, hands fiddling together. “He wasn’t- wasn’t bad. He only hurt me because- well- I- I mean. . .”

 

She trailed off uncertainly.

 

“You were arguing-“ she sped through the words hurriedly “-when I woke up. Did you- Why were you- arguing?”

 

James looked away stubbornly and Steve crossed his arms over his chest at the mention of their previous conversation. She looked between them until they exploded into their argument again.

 

“Why can’t you just tell me-?!”

 

“You don’t know what they did!”

 

“So they did do something!”

 

“To all of us! Did you think I was the only exception?!”

 

“Yes because everyone else was in a basement and you were strapped to a table in an Isolation Ward!”

 

Verfall flinched at their harsh yelling but swallowed her fear, stepping between them. They both shut up rather quickly at her motions and she turned to Steve.

 

“I-If I may-“ she started and Steve seemed to lose his anger as he looked at her.

 

He remained silent, as if he was waiting for her to continue and she slowly did.

 

“What James experienced must be traumatic from the aggressive behavior he continues to present.” James made an uncomfortable sound.

 

Verfall was reluctant to tell Steve what to do, but he hadn’t tried to hit her before so she decided there was no reason not to.

 

“As a person it can be in your best interest to wait until James is content with informing you of his misfortunes.” She looked up at Steve who seemed more and more regretful with every word she spoke.

 

It worried her- she was afraid he’d finally lash out- but to her surprise, Steve merely let out a soft sigh, staring down at his feet like a child who’d gotten caught stealing a second serving of cookies.

 

“I’m sorry Buck.” He admitted softly. “I was just- just so damn worried. I thought you’d-“

 

Died, but he didn’t dare say the word, fearing it would jinx James’s luck, Verfall assumed.

 

James ruffled his hair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“I know.” He said as understandably as possible. “I know what it feels like to be irrationally worried about small things. And this? Well, this is big. This is something you should be worried about.”

 

He swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek.

 

“And I’m glad, okay? But Lu- Lu’s right.” He nodded at her for a moment before returning his gaze to Steve. “We can talk about this on another day.”

 

Steve looked like he wanted to protest but clamped his stubborn mouth for once. He smiled softly at James.

 

“Truce?” He said, holding his hand out towards James.

 

“Truce.” James nodded, shaking his hand.

 

Verfall stopped a smile from slipping onto her face.

Chapter 38: Thirty Seven

"Vulnerability is a liability.”

Kreischberg, Austria

November, 1943

IT TOOK SIX DAYS before they finally caught sight of an American army base, and Verfall’s condition had not budged- she was still a soldier who was absolutely terrified of doing the wrong thing. Her eyes flicked towards James who was marching alongside Steve with a noticeable amount of exhaustion. She wondered if he should even be walking in such a condition, and Steve seemed to think the same. But every time he looked back at his best friend, James grinned and spoke before he could ask anything. 

 

Ver fall’s eyes flicked ahead of her- that wasn’t something she should notice or say anything about. It wasn’t her place, although a part of her was starting to get sick of the phrase. It was hard to say exactly how she felt because her emotions were a hurricane of confusion, stress and a fierce aching in her chest. The absence of Dr. Schaffer- it was always him she thought of- burned a hole in her heart and pained her to take another step. She knew being confined to a bathroom was one of the most merciful things she’d probably ever experience from him, yet here she was, completely botching his trust and following men she didn’t even know. 

 

If he found her now, she was sure Dr. Schaffer wouldn’t spare her a moment to speak- he would kill her, maybe, if he was feeling particularly kind that day. She swallowed thickly at the thought, eyes dropping to the ground as if the man had somehow materialized besides her.

 

It made her wonder- why did she leave? Was she afraid of James, who she supposed was her friend? Or the blonde-haired soldier- Steve? 

 

She was astounded by the fact her brain somehow managed to remember them and her supposed friendship with them, especially when she wanted nothing to do with them. A part of her was drawn towards the glowing golden retriever walking in front of her- the other was screaming at her to turn and run.

 

The sound of multiple heavy footsteps caught her attention and her head snapped up, calculatingly as soldiers from the base sprinted towards them. They slowly filed to either side of them in an attempt to give them room on the dirt road. Her eyes flicked between each man, who’s gazes were trained on Steve with wide eyes of surprise.

 

Everyone started clapping and Verfall gritted her teeth as the sound echoed in her ears, bouncing across the walls of her mind. 

 

It was too loud.

 

Steve and James stopped in front of her as a crowd cumulated. She drew inward onto herself, arms taut at her sides as her eyes caught sight of familiar chocolate brown curls moved amongst the sea of men. 

 

Her red lips flashed across her mind, in a distant memory, and Verfall winced. 

 

A Colonel approached the group and Steve saluted him almost instantly. 

 

Verfall found him vaguely familiar.

 

“Some of these men need medical attention.” Steve paused. “I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.”

 

Verfall’s eyes shifted to meet the red-lipped woman’s, and she found herself staring at- at Peggy, who’s eyes were round in confusion, concern, and a possible flicker of rage. She wouldn’t be surprised if that rage was aimed towards her.

 

She dropped her head, looking down.

 

“That won’t be necessary.” Colonel Phillips replied smoothly.

 

Steve resisted a smile.

 

“Yes, sir.” He nodded.

 

Peggy’s eyes moved to Steve before glancing at the Colonel.

 

“Faith, huh?” The Colonel- Colonel Phillips, her mind supplied- turned towards Peggy who smiled slightly.

 

She stepped forwards once he was out of the way, standing in front of Steve.

 

“You’re late.” She accused, her voice light-hearted.

 

“Couldn’t call my ride.” Steve grinned as he held out a broken transmitter.

 

Peggy looked him up and down before James turned back to the crowd, seemingly uncomfortable.

 

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!” He shouted and a roar of sound erupted.

 

Verfall flinched, snapping her head to the side anxiously. It took a few minutes before the crowd started to disperse and troops were moved to paramedic tents. James started towards a normal tent when Steve grasped his arm and pulled him back to stand in front of Peggy. 

 

Peggy, who was staring straight at Verfall with pursed lips.

 

“Please tell me you stumbled upon Steve and decided to save these men because you wanted to. Please.” She said in a soft voice.

 

Verfall despised the tone, because her softness was a trick- it was always a trick, unless she did something to appease Dr. Schaffer. She cut that line of thought short because the woman in front of her was not Dr. Schaffer.

 

She said nothing until she realized Peggy wanted an answer.

 

Steve and James watched the pair tensely.

 

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” She apologized, ducking her head in an effort to stare at the ground. “I don’t understand.”

 

Peggy’s lips tilted downwards into a frown, much more concerned than she’d been a few seconds ago. She reached a hand towards her and Verfall remained as still as possible, tensing. Peggy withdrew her hand and Verfall felt awful- she was doing everything so horribly wrong and Peggy was saying absolutely nothing about it.

 

Peggy looked at Steve and James before letting loose a soft sigh, forcing a smile to her lips.

 

“I assume your friend needs medical attention but is trying to escape it?” She asked, pointedly tilting her head at James who was tugging himself away.

 

He stopped, looking guilty for being caught.

 

“Well, come on then.” She beckoned.

 

Verfall had the terrifying thought Peggy was going to leave her standing in the middle of the army base with no orders until she tilted her head back.

 

“Soldat, follow.” She ordered sharply and Verfall immediately stood straighter, a feeling like relief settling in her bones.

 

She was starting to remember Peggy had been her handler at one point in time, even though she seemed to be against everything Dr. Schaffer fought for- although whatever he fought for seemed to fluctuate way too often.

 

James made the sound of a wounded animal at Peggy’s words, staring at the woman with daggers. But Peggy barely noticed as they entered an empty infirmary tent that was smaller and more sophisticated. One nurse was in the room, and Peggy dismissed the woman almost instantly.

 

There were two white dots set up on either side and Steve led James to one of them, who, with much persuasion and the promise of beer, sat down.

 

Verfall followed Peggy like she’d been instructed, and stopped in front of the cot.

 

“Where would you feel more comfortable?” Peggy asked and Verfall gulped.

 

She curled and uncurled her hands into fists. Peggy’s eyes dropped to the motion and Verfall immediately relaxed her hands.

 

“Ground or cot, you’re prerogative.” The tone of her voice was indifferent.

 

“Ground.” Verfall whispered, because she didn’t deserve to sit on the cot when she was messing up so much.

 

Of course, it must’ve been the wrong answer because Peggy’s face fell. She waited to be reprimanded but Peggy said nothing- again. She walked around the cot and made the pillow atop it fluffy.

 

Verfall watched her every move in silence, Steve and James watching with confusion. 

 

Finally, Verfall couldn’t take it anymore and dropped to her knees in a fluid motion.

 

“I’m sorry I keep doing everything wrong.” She pressed. “I don’t understand what you want me to do. I don’t understand. Dr. Schaffer was- I don’t understand. Please.”

 

Peggy’s combat boots appeared in front of her and Verfall started to tremble, hands raising open-palmed.

 

“Soldat-“ she started calmly “-you did nothing wrong. The emotions I express aren’t towards you but towards the situation you were in.”

 

She exhaled loudly.

 

“I would like you to sit on the cot, please.” 

 

Verfall was up like a bullet, seating herself on the cot hurriedly in an attempt to make Peggy smile at least once. She tried not to be disappointed when her prior handler didn’t.

 

“Why do you keep calling her soldier in German?” James tried to sound respectful but he couldn’t help the anger escaping his lips.

 

Peggy turned to him with a sad look.

 

“She’s stuck in a different mindset from what you’re probably used to. I’m going to try and get Lucy’s normal behavior to surface.” She explained as she sat at the lower end of Verfall’s cot.

 

Verfall understood what she meant without really understanding. 

 

Steve frowned deeply.

 

“So she has like, two personalities?” He questioned and Peggy shook her head.

 

“It’s still Lucy, but Dr. Erskine had suspected a part of her brain shuts off, triggered by trauma, or because it’s deliberately shut down.” She glared at the ground by the end of her sentence, before turning back around to face Verfall.

 

Peggy leaned forwards and grasped both of her tense hands. Verfall barely breathed as Peggy gently rubbed the back of her palms with her thumb.

 

“Verfall, I was a Nurse, Nurse Elizabeth. I treated you with IV drips supplied by Dr. Erskine and that da- Dr. Schaffer.”

 

Verfall let her shoulders relax, hope glimmering between her eyes.

 

“I helped you out of that place, Lucy. We went to my home in England and I promised Dr. Schaffer would never be able to hurt you there. Do you recall that?” Peggy said and Verfall let a frown slip onto her face.

 

She didn’t understand why Peggy would say Dr. Schaffer would hurt her because her handler had only ever been merciful. She’d done things that disappointed him and deserved what came her way. It wasn’t cruelty, it was discipline and she didn’t need to be scared of that.

 

“Dr. Schaffer won’t hurt me.” She said firmly, the desire to stand up for her handler hurtling towards the front of her mind. “Sir took care of me and trained me.”

 

Peggy opened her mouth, then shut it, looking rather dumbfounded. She thought for a few seconds before looking back at her.

 

“Why do you think that?” She asked neutrally. “What did he do?”

 

Verfall tried to think of where to start.

 

“I used to stay in the cells with everyone else until James was taken to the infirmary. I followed and he was diagnosed with Pneumonia.” She glanced at Peggy with uncertainty but she seemed to wait for her to continue. So she did. “I tried to stop them from putting him in isolation, so Dr. Zola called Sir, and he was-was smiling too much. That’s when I knew he was angry with what I did. So he- we went to his room and he put my head underwater until I was drowning but he made sure I didn’t die.”

 

She furrowed her eyebrows.

 

“He let me sleep on his bed after that.” She continued and Peggy frowned.

 

“Then where did he sleep?” She asked.

 

Verfall tried not to look at her as if she was incompetent.

 

“On the bed too.” She nodded and Peggy’s face contorted.

 

“To sleep, right?” James asked quietly from where he was seated.

 

Verfall looked at him with a confused gaze.

 

“Yes. Of course.” She turned to Peggy. “He let me visit James the next day but he got angry at me again, so he put me in a huge cell by myself.”

 

A soft smile etched itself onto her face as she recalled the time they danced.

 

“We danced ballet together for hours, until he left and I fell asleep. When I woke up again I was in his bathroom- his room had one. He wouldn’t let me out but it was much safer there anyway. After that everyday was the same as long as he chose to open the door. I ate three times a day, and trained a profuse amount. And if I did a good job he would sit by me until I fell asleep.” She stared down at her hands, holding onto Peggy’s palms tightly. “He promised we would run away from HYDRA, because he said he didn’t like it when other people tried to use me. He said I was his and that I wouldn’t have to live like I’d been doing if I went with him but. . .but he’s gone.”

 

Peggy seemed to have a difficult time not punching the wall out of frustration. They were back to square one, or worse, by the way Dr. Schaffer had somehow made Lucy more dependent on him. 

 

She sighed instead.

 

“Lucy, I need you to understand this.” Peggy started. “What happened there wasn’t your fault and you have no reason to blame yourself. Remember when you didn’t know how to turn the stove on and was terrified of what I’d say? Well, all I did was teach you and continue on with my day. Then another time, when you shattered one of my mugs- you tried to pick up the pieces and I wouldn’t let you because I was more concerned-“

 

“With my hands instead of the glass.” Ver-Lucy muttered. “You said I shouldn’t bleed over a mug.”

 

Peggy nodded with a bright smile on her face.

 

She was almost surprised by how thin the walls around her rational mind had gotten, but it had been quite some time since she’d last heard Dr. Schaffer’s voice. Lucy’s lips tilted into a frown as her eyes moved around the tent. James, she noticed, was concerned and angry at the same time, alongside Steve who looked horrified. 

 

She grimaced at the realization she had spewed everything about the past month and pulled one hand out of Peggy’s, running it over her face.

 

“Feeling better, Lu?” Peggy asked and Lucy avoided her gaze.

 

“Yes. Thanks, Pegs.” She mumbled quietly before pulling her other hand away from Peggy and towards herself.

 

It’s when she remembered the thigh-holster suffocating her leg. She activated her abilities immediately, white tendrils wrapping around the holster, which unbuckled itself and flew across the tent. It hit the ground with a clink and she winced at the sound.

 

It was silent for some time before Lucy spoke, staring up at the tent ceiling.

 

“I’m an idiot.” She groaned as she laid back. “I listened to him like he was the world because I didn’t see anyone else and I-“

 

She tugged at her hair, buried anger rising to the surface. Peggy placed a hand on top of her head and Lucy forced herself to not pull out clumps of her hair.

 

“That’s not your fault.” Peggy replied and Lucy sat up.

 

“No, no, it definitely is. He would order me around- don’t do this, don’t do that, only look at me- and I chose to listen.” She sneered. “He reminds me of my old German neighbor’s husband. He was like that too, just less capable.” 

 

Then she remembered, quite clearly, of practically ogling the man. She kicked her feet, rolling off of the cot at the sudden memory and hitting the ground with a thud.

 

“Hey- woah-“ Steve started.

 

“I think I ogled him, Peggy.” She cringed. “I was sleepy and then he entered his room to sleep- I said that already right? But he just wore a tank top and I- his abs, his arms- that’s why he can beat the living shit out of me. He might just be as strong as. . .Steve.”

 

She slowly turned her head to look at Peggy who looked at her. Sudden realization crept onto them and Lucy swallowed nervously as she stood up.

 

“You don’t think he took a form of the serum, do you?” Peggy breathed and Lucy inhaled deeply.

 

“He wouldn’t have. I mean, he treasures his life too much, right?” She cringed. “But I couldn’t overpower him physically, and if the serum makes the worse in people worse. . .”

 

She threw her hands up into the air as she dropped onto the cot again.

 

“I might as well kiss myself goodbye.” She said defeatedly. “Next time, and clearly, there will be a next time, he’s not even gonna give me a chance. He’s going to take me and get both of our asses out of there. Then that’s it. Goodbye to everyone.”

 

A hysterical laugh left her lips, eyes watering at her words.

 

“Hey, hey.” Peggy gently put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t think like that, okay? You’ll be fine, which means you’re not allowed on the frontlines anymore.”

 

Lucy snapped her head towards her, eyes wide.

 

“What?” She protested. “I’m going to go out there, Pegs. If anything, I would like to capture Dr. Zola and interrogate him for what he did to James.”

 

Peggy turned to look at him, and James awkwardly glanced away from Steve. He shot Lucy a look and she returned it with an apologetic one.

 

“I’d like to do the same to the asshole who did whatever he did to you.” James practically snarled and Lucy sighed.

 

She understood what he meant.

 

“You can’t go out there, Lucy. I’m sorry not when this-“ she shook her head. “Maybe, in a few weeks. But for now, we should make sure you’re not feeling unwell.”

 

Lucy blinked.

 

“Oh, right.” She said slowly. “Dr. Schaffer gave me IV drips, every three days or so. I’m going to experience withdrawal. Again. But Abraham gave me the ingredients to the pills I used to eat.” She pointed to her head. “I memorized it, but it’s only a quick and momentary fix. That’s another reason why we should haul Dr. Zola’s ass here. He knows everything.”

 

Peggy nodded firmly, standing up.

 

“I’ll get James a nurse, Steve.” She said to him before shoving her hands in her pockets. “Lucy, I want you to stay here for a few days, alright?”

 

Lucy pursed her lips but understood Peggy didn’t have the time to be overly worried about her at the moment.

 

“Alright.” She nodded.

 

She didn’t say how much she detested the feeling in her heart that still ached for Dr. Schaffer’s praise.

Chapter 39: Thirty Eight

"Her head spins like a record that never stops.”

Kreischberg, Austria

November, 1943

SHE KNEW IT WAS a dream when the atmosphere was too peaceful and too quiet to be real. There were times she did confuse reality with her nightmares, but this time she was lucky. She opened her eyes, still in whatever concoction her mind had imagined. Her gaze met a white ceiling and her heart dropped in her chest at the feeling of fingers rifling through her hair. She froze, her hands starting to tremble against bed sheets as she hesitantly turned to her side. 

 

Dr. Schaffer sat beside her with a book in his hand, the cover unbearably blurry. His fingers continued to comb through her hair and Lucy looked away from his book as he turned a page. She started to sit up and Dr. Schaffer’s book was immediately dented by how tight he was holding it. She stopped, loosening every muscle in her body to stop herself from panicking. His grip loosened on his book and he hummed softly as his eyes scanned the pale paper.

 

She didn’t know how long she lay there in her dream, wondering if she would be killed in her mind and awake to reality. Those were the better nightmares, and she had a feeling her luck had already run out. When Dr. Schaffer finally snapped his book shut, his hand disappeared from her head and she slowly sat up. She reluctantly looked up, catching sight of Dr. Schaffer’s lips curled into a dark grin. 

 

“Where have you been?” He questioned, his voice deceivingly calm as he placed a warm hand on her cheek. 

 

Lucy’s hands trembled as her fingers curled into the bed. She inhaled deeply as his hand moved to her chin, his iron grip tightening around her cheeks. She tried to pry his arm away but he was stronger than she’d expected.

 

It was all a nightmare, she told herself, I could do anything if I wanted.

 

Yet she didn’t as Dr. Schaffer placed his book beside him, standing off the bed without letting go of her. She stumbled off the bed and almost fell onto the ground, if not for a steady hand landing on her shoulder. He let go of her jaw then, and relief filled her body, moving her hand to rub her cheek.

 

“Oh Ver, did you really take my gift and throw it to the dirt? Like it was nothing? Do you know how expensive it was?” His cheery tone contrasted the darkness in his gaze, and Lucy’s breath hitched in her throat.

 

So that’s what her mind was terrified of. Throwing an insignificant dagger to the side of a private infirmary had caused terror to seize her heart and produce this nightmare.

 

It was ridiculous.

 

She tried to speak but her voice didn’t work. Maybe she didn’t have any control over her dreams, like everything else in her life. 

 

“No?” He questioned and she tried to shout, to tell him something but she couldn’t.

 

His hand slammed into her face with a loud slap and she looked away as her eyes watered. He chuckled, tilting his head to the side with familiar amusement. 

 

“On your knees.” He ordered and Lucy found herself hitting the ground.

 

She clawed at the floor, wanting to pick herself up and fight back but she was frozen still. This was her dream and it made no sense she was under his control. It was blatantly unfair and debilitating. 

 

She could never truly get away, could she?

 

The scent of cigarette smoke filled her nose and a lighter snapped shut as Dr. Schaffer crouched to her height. He played with the cigarette in his hand before turning it to her. She tried to pull her head back as he placed the cigarette between her lips.

 

“Go on, give it a go.” He said with a curious look. 

 

Lucy half expected herself to inhale automatically. When she didn’t, her eyes flicked up to Dr. Schaffer with uncertainty. His hand pressed against her cheek, scooping her chin and hooking his forefinger behind her ear. She shut her eyes at the feeling and breathed.

 

Cigarette smoke entered her lungs, before bellowing out like a silent roar. Her face scrunched and she spat the cigarette to the floor. Dr. Schaffer kept his head on her cheek as he easily picked it up and pushed it between his teeth. He inhaled deeply and let out a long breath. 

 

She hacked and coughed at the rancid smell and Dr. Schaffer clicked his tongue with disappointment. Lucy hated the sound and she grasped onto his hand, suddenly able to move as he tried to pull away. She held tight to him, like he was her lifeline, and a surprised look crossed his features.

 

“Please.” She whimpered. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave me here.”

 

Dr. Schaffer smiled and helped her stand, his hand still gentle around her cheek and the back of her head. He pressed his other hand to the other side of her face, caressing her softly.

 

“I won’t leave you, Ver.”

 

Lucy’s eyes glimmered with hope.

 

“I will never, ever, leave you.” 

 

His hands tightened around her face and her eyes widened with horror as pain shot across her skull.

 

She awoke with a choked gasp, hands trembling as she gripped tightly to the cot underneath her. Wet, hot tears streamed down her face and she hastily wiped the liquid before it could dribble down her chin. She sat up sharply, cold hands grasping the cot as she stood to her feet. Her eyes trailed across the tent- James was sleeping in his cot with Steve tiredly sleeping in a chair.

 

Peggy was nowhere to be seen and Lucy had half the mind to be worried before her eyes landed on the dagger still sitting on the ground, connected to it’s holster. Her heart hammered in her chest as she stalked towards it, slowly brushing her fingertips against the dagger’s hilt.

 

She squeezed her hand around it as she shakily tied the holster back onto her thigh. She felt a weight lift off her chest as she returned to her cot, lying on her side with her hands clutched to her chest.

 

“Lucy?” She heard a tired voice speak.

 

She froze, terrified.

 

“Lucy, hey, hey it’s just me- it’s Peggy.” She heard the woman say, but she didn’t lift her head, only curling tighter into herself.

 

Her hand dropped to herthe white leather keeping her dagger in place. She looped her fingers around it, holding tight in fear that the woman would take it from her. Lucy listened to her footsteps as a chair came into her line of view. The woman, familiar with brown curls, placed a gentle hand on her forehead, overflowing with concern.

 

“Are you sick?” She questioned with confusion, though she seemed to know the answer as she checked her temperature.

 

Lucy felt the woman- Peggy’s hand start to move and she couldn’t help but bump her head against her hand, desperate for some sort of affection. The woman’s hand stopped and her palm gently brushed against her head.

 

Lucy felt her muscles loosen, relaxing as she played with her hair. The feeling was different in real life- her hands were caring, soft, and feathery, unlike Dr. Schaffer’s. 

 

The feeling grounded her.

 

She shut her eyes softly, before realization slammed into her like a freight train. She pried an eye open as Peggy continued to comb out her messy hair, lips pursed with worry and eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

 

“I’m sorry.” Lucy sniffled as she wiped her eyes with one hand.

 

She felt like a child.

 

“What possibly for?” Peggy whispered and Lucy couldn’t help the shame flickering between her eyes.

 

Peggy seemed to understand and she pulled her hand away, instead putting it on her shoulder.

 

“If that weapon makes you more comfortable, even if I despise it, I understand.” She said honestly. “That bastard really did do a number on you, huh?”

 

Lucy looked down, almost wincing at the insult as her hand tightened around the holster.

 

“He did.” She whispered. “Do you think this is all useless? Coming here? Only to what- be found again? What if I did just give up? What if he and I really do run away from HYDRA, from the US. . .it would be hell, wouldn’t it? It would be safer for all of you and he wouldn’t kill me.”

 

Peggy gently squeezed her shoulder before pulling back.

 

“Lucy, I’ve known you for quite some time now.” She started sadly. “I have a feeling he wouldn’t be the reason for your death. I think someone much closer to you would.”

 

Lucy blinked at her handl- her friend’s words. 

 

“I guess I wouldn’t be able to mentally take his violence at one point.” She nodded slowly in hazy agreement. “I can’t even save myself.”

 

The nightmare was still fresh in her mind- he wouldn’t ever leave her, even if he died. He would live in her head for the rest of her life, at least until she learned to cope.

 

“Peggy.” Lucy shifted on the cot. “I didn’t tell you everything about Dr. Schaffer.”

 

Peggy raised a curious eyebrow and Lucy sighed.

 

“There were times we talked.” She let her eyes wander across the tent ceiling. “Like real people, person to person. I don’t know if it’s all true, but, his father used to beat him a lot because the man couldn’t feel emotions and he simply couldn’t take Dr. Schaffer’s presence. He said his mother tried to stop him a few times, and was killed in the process. Dr. Schaffer taught himself to feel nothing and entered the medical field because he wanted to do the opposite of what his father did. Then he asked me if any of his actions in HYDRA could be justified.”

 

Peggy frowned at the information, but said nothing as Lucy continued.

 

“I knew it was risky to be honest but I told him no. He lived a terrible life and had a terrible family, but that didn’t mean he had the right to hurt other people like that. I told him that. . .even though he killed my father, I couldn’t bring myself to kill him even if I had the ability to. It felt morally wrong.” Lucy huffed. “There are times I do want to kill enemies out of revenge and I’ve realized why I was so adamant in telling him how absolutely wrong he was. He wasn’t killing the people who hurt him, he was killing innocents, hurting them like he was squashing maggots just to appease himself.”

 

She fiddled with the edges of the cot, remembering the moment Dr. Schaffer’s eyes had darkened at her statement. 

 

“But it’s hard not to feel empathetic.” Peggy noted, and Lucy nodded with a thin-lipped smile.

 

She breathed deeply.

 

“I knew how much I relied on him when you first broke me out.” She swallowed thickly. “It’s- It’s even harder now. I expect Dr. Schaffer to walk in and tell me to do something. But he’s not. And now I don’t know what to do because he was, well, my life is based on his. What’s the point of being here when he’s- he’s not?”

 

Peggy remained silent, quiet as she listened to her. She said nothing for a long time and Lucy tried not to let her eyelids drop as she waited for some sort of comfort- anything. 

 

After a few minutes she finally leaned back, a long sigh escaping her lips. It’s when she noticed the hand not holding her’s was clenched so tightly around the cot that it was a wonder Peggy hadn’t torn the fabric. She had never seen Peggy so terrifyingly angry as she glowered towards the floor.

 

“Lucy.” Peggy grounded through gritted teeth. “No matter how many times Schaffer will try to break you apart, you will always be able to build yourself up. And I’ll help you just like I did before.”

 

She gazed at Lucy with determination, and a small smile slipped onto her face. Peggy turned, pointing towards James and Steve who were starting to faintly snore.

 

“They will help too.” Peggy smiled with closed eyes, a yawn escaping her. “Always.”

 

Lucy felt guilt unfurl across her chest as she loosened her hold on Peggy’s hand.

 

“I woke you up, didn’t I?” She asked.

 

Peggy shook her head.

 

“I wanted to check up on you.” She assured but Lucy had a feeling she was lying. “I’m not that tired anyway.”

 

Now that was so clearly a lie Lucy pursed her lips, pouting as Peggy rolled her eyes. 

 

“I’ll wait until you fall asleep. Then I’ll be on my way.” Peggy said with an air of promise.

 

Lucy stared at her for some time, before nodding softly and nuzzling her face into her cot pillow. 

 

Peggy’s hand was different, warm but uncalloused, and if she never, ever left her, Lucy found herself unbothered by the prospect, because it’d be her choice.

 

And she was starting to know what it felt like to miss choices.

Chapter 40: Thirty Nine

"The tongue pierces deeper than the spear.”

London, England

November, 1943

LUCY FOUND IT MARGINALLY easier to fall back into the role of a person, especially with Steve, James and Dum Dum checking up on her everyday. In fact, most of her personality traits- the traits that made her human- were salvaged by the mere way the trio would appear, grin like idiots, then bring her to eat lunch with them. She didn’t complain about the army rations they had to eat, instead too relieved by the way the three were able to make everything feel normal.

 

It made everything feel right, in every way that made her comfortable. 

 

She supposed it must’ve been the reason why she didn’t realize how much she was starting to truly care about James. She had started to notice the tired look that’d appear in his eyes, accompanied by a smile that tried to be bright. She’d also noticed the true smiles he showed, directed towards her when he thought she wasn’t looking. 

 

It made her heart warm, but she knew how much of a risk it was to try and deepen her relationship with James.

 

Lucy let loose a small sigh as she carefully spread lipstick across her lips. 

 

The only thing she struggled with was being accepted by Colonel Phillips and the rest of the higher-ups after half the prisoners reported her abilities, and how deadly she could be. It was a miracle the man was fond of her, enough to let her off the hook with barely any change to the way he treated her.

 

Peggy raised an eyebrow at her as she pulled the straps to her stunning red dress, placing them on her shoulders. Lucy had a dress of her own- tinted blue that reached her knees, fabric dipping to her chest to create a sharp v-line. It was laced, just like Peggy’s, after all, Lucy was only borrowing it.

 

She’d used her abilities to lengthen the otherwise too short outfit, only to find it rather difficult to do so. She knew Dr. Schaffer had given her the original IV formula which she knew contained SBA. Which meant she also knew there’d be only a few months, perhaps even less, before she’d need Dr. Zola to create the formula for her, or whatever had been in the needle he’d injected her with.

 

She frowned, knowing he’d probably refuse to help.

 

Which left Dr. Schaffer.

 

She shuddered at the thought.

 

“You’re lost in thought again, aren’t you?” Peggy questioned as she struggled to zip the rest of her dress up.

 

Lucy blinked, turning to her with a small sheepish smile.

 

“Yes.” She almost chuckled at Peggy’s inability to reach her back. “Here, let me help.”

 

She zipped Peggy’s dress, who turned with her hands on her hips, beaming.

 

“How do I look?” She asked.

 

Lucy nodded gently at her.

 

“As beautiful as always.” 

 

Peggy let loose a small laugh and patted her shoulder lightly.

 

“You look amazing too.” She grinned.

 

Lucy felt her cheeks burn as she blushed. 

 

When they trekked to England towards another Army Base Peggy had insisted that the liberated prisoners needed to take some time for themselves. Even though Lucy protested with the excuse of ‘there’s a war happening’, Colonel Phillips had hastily agreed with Peggy’s idea and Lucy, of course, was dragged along.

 

It wasn’t terrible, if Lucy was honest. She did enjoy the soldiers’s company and the opportunity to enter a pub hadn’t risen for them in quite a few months.

 

She missed it, as much as she missed-

 

“Lucy.” Peggy stood at the bathroom door, concern glimmering in her eyes.

 

Lucy’s brows furrowed in confusion until she followed Peggy’s gaze. Her hands had picked up her white thigh holster, dagger sheathed carefully to the side. 

 

She dropped it like she’d been burned and Peggy’s concerned gaze morphed into something Lucy couldn’t quite place.

 

Peggy hooked her arm around Lucy’s elbow, smiling in an attempt to keep the atmosphere light.

 

“Come on.” She winked. “Before I lose my chance with Steve.”

 

Lucy nodded, stepping besides her at a moderate pace. Peggy grabbed her bag and they put their heels on before exiting their room. She let her eyes wander across London, streets lined with tall buildings and people, bustling about. 

 

According to Peggy, the prime time of going to a pub was when the sun gave it’s last kiss to the sky. In other words, when the night was young but the sky was dark enough to see the stars. 

 

Even before HYDRA, Lucy hadn’t ever been to a pub. She was too busy trying to keep ahead of all her classmates, who were two years older than her. She had more interests in solving scientific phenomenons rather than partying with people she barely knew. 

 

Life had been easier than, and toneless.

 

Perhaps that was why she didn’t care so much about the drastic changes in her life.

 

The pair stopped in front of the pub entrance and Lucy inhaled deeply. She reached forwards and gripped Peggy’s hand tightly, clutching onto her with a look of uncertainty.

 

“You’ll be alright.” Peggy reassured as she squeezed Lucy’s hand.

 

She frowned doubtfully but nodded nonetheless, holding onto her as she pushed the pub door open. Lucy wasn’t surprised by the scent of tobacco because she’d been expecting it, although it still sparked unpleasant memories, threatening to ignite fire across her skull. 

 

But they both knew exposure would make things less problematic.

 

Members of the 107th cheered and laughed with each other as beer glasses clanged against each other. Lucy’s eyes flickered back and forth, standing tall with stiff arms. Peggy moved forwards with confidence, ignoring the singing men who slowly stopped at the sight of the pair. It didn’t take a genius to know they were trying their best not to ogle them.

 

Peggy stepped deeper into the pub before she caught sight of Steve and James. 

 

Lucy looked up at the pair as they stood from their chairs, eyes flickering with surprise.

 

“Agent Carter.” Steve greeted.

 

James cleared his throat as his eyes focused on Lucy.

 

“Agent Baker.” He said smoothly.

 

Lucy let her lips twitch upwards in a small smile as Peggy let Steve know about Howard’s new weaponry. Lucy barely noticed, too busy gazing at James who looked remarkably dapper in his new uniform. 

 

He moved to the side, beckoning her to sit on his right. She shyly moved beside him, sitting on a bar stool. James joined her, leaning his chin against his hand.

 

“You look- um-“ James seemed to be at a loss for words. “Good. Great. Yeah.”

 

Lucy fiddled with the fabric at her knees, looking at everything but him.

 

“Erm- thank you James.” She said sheepishly. “You look uh really good too.”

 

An awkward silence settled, and Lucy tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. 

 

She breathed carefully, trying her best to ignore the tobacco scent travelling back and forth across the area. She would have to get used to it one way or another.

 

“Reminds you of the swing club, doesn’t it?” James said as he leaned his elbows against the bar table.

 

Lucy’s eyes wandered across the bottles of alcohol.

 

“It does.” She agreed. 

 

James hummed in response, before ordering two shots of whiskey. 

 

The bartender slid them their drinks and she picked her glass up swiftly, downing it in one gulp. Her throat burned pleasantly as the liquid slid down her throat. She returned the glass onto the table silently, glancing at James who frowned slightly at the empty glass in his hand.

 

“How many shots have you had?” Lucy asked curiously.

 

James blinked, looking at her as if he’d been caught off guard.

 

“Well,” he pursed his lips, “a lot. I would usually be drunk by now.”

 

The last of his sentence was quiet enough that Steve, who had walked towards Dum Dum to give the pair privacy, wouldn’t be able to hear. 

 

Lucy bit on the inside of her lip. 

 

The bartender refilled their shot glasses and she picked hers up, swirling it in her hand to form a small tornado. She’d never asked James what had happened to him, and James hadn’t volunteered to talk about it either. But if Dr. Zola’s words were true, then, well, she suspected his tolerance for alcohol wasn’t out of the blue.

 

“James.” She mumbled quietly, eyes focused on her glass. “I know you don’t want to talk about what happened-“

 

“I’m fine.” James said reflexively.

 

Lucy rubbed the side of the glass nervously, letting her nail scrape against the grooves.

 

“I didn’t ask if you were fine or not.” She blurted, before grimacing. “I just think. . .for your health. . .it’d be a good idea to tell someone about what happened.”

 

James remained quiet so she continued.

 

“When I received my serum, they- um- they tested my alcohol tolerance.” She inhaled deeply. “I can’t get drunk. And if what Dr. Zola did what he said he was going to do-“

 

“Okay.” James said sharply, cutting her off.

 

Lucy blinked a few times, before she realized how idiotic she’d been for talking about Dr. Zola as if he was just another one of their friends. That man was the devil to James, and she’d spoken of him like he was the opposite.

 

She winced, reaching out, hand hovering besides his.

 

“Can I-?” She started.

 

James nodded once, looking away from her. She placed her hand on top of his and they sat there for a long time, sitting in silence.

 

He shifted in his seat, turning to Lucy.

 

“I think what hurt the most wasn’t the experimenting.” He said honestly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of her hand. “It was the fact I knew you had also gone through what I had. I don’t know if it was the same, but. . .”

 

He trailed off, anger flickering between his eyes, mixed with a little bit of grief.

 

“I don’t think, well, I don’t know if what I went through was really that bad.” Lucy pursed her lips, before shaking her head. “It’s not something we should compare. But that means you did receive some sort of serum, right?”

 

James clenched his jaw with a small nod.

 

She blinked.

 

“You’re not going to tell Steve.” She stated.

 

For a moment he looked genuinely guilty. Lucy supposed he told Steve almost everything so the look on his face was probably justified.

 

She pulled her hand away from James, drinking her shot of whiskey with a sigh.

 

“It’s up to you James.” She said with a soft smile. “I won’t tell him anything.”

 

James gazed at her with a small look of surprise. He grasped both of her hands, holding them with his calloused ones. She blinked at the sudden motion, curiosity flickering between her eyes.

 

“Do you love Steve?” He asked with a voice of seriousness.

 

It took Lucy a few seconds to register his words. Her cheeks tinted red without her permission. A year ago she would’ve shook her head and moved on, but hiding her emotions had become increasingly more difficult, especially when she’d spent most of her days being as honest as possible.

 

After all, lying wasn’t allowed.

 

James waited expectantly for an answer and Lucy gnawed on the inside of her cheek.

 

“No.” She said with a wince. “I thought, I mean, he likes Peggy.”

 

James cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

 

“Lucy.” He started hesitantly. “I- well- I-“

 

Lucy tilted her head, waiting.

 

“I-“ his voice died in his throat as he stared at her.

 

His cheeks bloomed red with embarrassment and Lucy averted her gaze to their joined hands. Her eyes flickered back and forth before she lifted her head again.

 

Her breath caught in her throat as she found her face mere centimeters away from James’s. She exhaled softly, eyes fluttering to his nose, then to his lips. His bright sky-like eyes roamed across her face, really roamed across her, memorizing the way her dimples rose and fell as her lips moved into a half-smile.

 

“So-um-“ 

 

He leaned closer and she could feel his breath fanning against her neck, her cheeks burning brightly.

 

“You know-“ James stammered “-actually- I’m just gonna-“

 

His lips brushed against hers, soft and unsure, as if he hadn’t kissed a hundred girls before. 

 

Lucy knew he’d been on many dates but something about the way he tried to be as gentle as possible made her wonder if he wanted this to have more meaning. She let her guard fall and her eyes slip shut as she reciprocated his actions.

 

She was just as unsure as him, because in all her selflessness, she couldn’t afford to be this selfish. But James was already in this mess- even if she asked him to back away he wouldn’t, not when he was just as stubborn as Steve. 

 

After a moment James pulled back and Lucy opened her eyes. Her gaze dropped to James’s nose, avoiding his sheepish look. She held his hands gently, and James let out a nervous chuckle.

 

“I’ve uh- liked you for a long time.” He admitted.

 

Lucy nodded.

 

“You told me when you were drunk.” She said. “I wasn’t sure if you meant it at the time.”

 

James blinked several times before pulling his hands away and burying his face into his palms, groaning at his idiocy.

 

Lucy held back a laugh.

 

“I really like you as well, James, I do.” She mumbled. “And I’d love to be in a relationship with you, I really do.”

 

“But it’s dangerous to be around me, much less love me. It’s just a lot of work and a lot of dealing with, well, me. I’m not sure if you want to um- be committed to that.”

 

She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head.

 

“It’s for your safety, James and-“

 

“You’re always concerned with my safety.” James grinned cheekily as he leaned forwards, putting one hand on her shoulder. “To hell with safety. We’re in a war, Lu. I don’t know how much time we got on this damn planet but I’m goin’ live life to the fullest. Besides, you’re not a nuisance either. You’re perfect in everything you’ve ever done.”

 

James scooted forwards and wrapped his arms around her gently. Lucy felt warm and safe as she leaned her head against his shoulder. His embrace made her realize just how tired she was. 

 

She clutched onto his sleeve tightly, tears threatening to escape her eyes.

 

“Let’s try.” Lucy nodded against his shoulder, her voice muffled against his neck. 

 

James smiled.

 

“Yeah.” He agreed. “Let’s try.”

 

Chapter 41: Forty

"I will never be good enough for you. I got that.”

London, England

January, 1944

SHE KNEW SOMETHING WAS wrong when Peggy’s footsteps grew slow and reluctant, seconds before they reached the door. Lucy didn’t need to look up from the book in her lap to notice her best-friend’s reluctance in opening the door. She could hear her uncertain breathing and just a wisp of her erratic heartbeat, as if she’d been running. 

 

It’d been months since the incident at Azzano to Kreischberg, and fresh wounds had become more or less a scab. There were good days, and bad days, and James had done everything he could to make everything feel better. She’d done the same for him, of course, especially since they both struggled with night terrors that weren’t as simple as a bundle of PTSD.

 

Her time on the frontlines was limited. Although Steve recommended her to join the Howling Commandos, she still wasn’t cleared for all missions. Sometimes she was allowed to tag along, others, she wasn’t allowed to- and for good reason. The Army was trying to avoid HYDRA’s chances in taking her again, and Lucy was vaguely thankful for how much they cared, though she didn’t know if it was because of how useful she could be.

 

The door clicked open as Lucy turned a page. Her eyes moved across the words while she raised one hand in greeting.

 

“Hey, Pegs.” Lucy waved. “Something wrong?”

 

Peggy let out a long breath, feet padding against the ground as she sat besides her.

 

“How are you feeling?” She asked with a voice of frantic concern.

 

Lucy raised a curious eyebrow as she looked up from her book. Peggy’s hair was disheveled, messy and unkempt, the complete opposite to her neat look. It made Lucy genuinely concerned as she sat up straighter.

 

“I’m feeling fine.” Lucy said with an air of confusion. “Should I. . .not be?”

 

Peggy shook her head, pursing her lips with uncertainty. She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it. She seemed to be trying her best to think of what to say and how to say it right.

 

Lucy observed her for some time before slowly closing her book.

 

“You want to tell me something.” She claimed.

 

Peggy let out a nervous chuckle, leaning against the wall as she pulled her feet up to her back. She put her hands in her lap, fiddling with her fingers.

 

“You’ve been making and eating the pills Abraham gave you, right?” She said, trying to sound nonchalant.

 

Lucy narrowed her eyes suspiciously and placed her book to the side, bunching her blanket into her lap as she nodded.

 

“But you haven’t had those IV drips in months.” Peggy continued. “Are you in pain? Discomfort? Anything-“

 

“Peggy.” Lucy interrupted. “I’m fine. The pills are doing their job and I’m sure I have more time before I need to worry about using one of those IV’s. Where did this suddenly come from?”

 

Peggy ran a hand through her hair, tangling it even more than it already was. 

 

Lucy grimaced at the motion.

 

She remained silent for a few seconds and Lucy couldn’t help the feeling of frustration climbing up her spine. She felt like she was hanging on Peggy’s every word, waiting for her to get to the point of whatever she was trying to get to. 

 

She rarely ever saw Peggy worried anymore, especially since Steve and the rest of the Howling Commandos had been one step ahead of Schmidt for months. The war seemed to be in the Allies' power's favor- there really was no need to be concerned.

 

“Do you know how many more months you can go without it?” Peggy answered her question with another question.

 

Lucy sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“What is it, Pegs? Just tell me.” She pressed.

 

Peggy inhaled deeply, before letting out a string of words Lucy couldn’t make out. She looked at her with confusion and Peggy winced.

 

“Last night,” she started slowly, “Dr. Schaffer turned himself in.”

 

Lucy’s heart jumped out of her chest as she snapped her head upwards with wide eyes. She was hit with a mix of emotions- surprise, terror and confusion- all flickering between her gaze as she stared at Peggy.

 

“To here?” Lucy struggled to keep her voice level. 

 

Peggy looked away.

 

“Yes. He’s being held in the interrogation wing.” She clenched her hands into fists. “They could get barely anything out of him. No amount of bargaining or threatening worked.”

 

Lucy swallowed thickly. 

 

“He said- you’ll die by next month.” Peggy squeezed her eyes shut, as if she didn’t want to believe it. “He said he’s the only one who would be willing to help you. We couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or not. I was planning not to tell you until the higher-ups decided to kill him. But. . .is what he said true?”

 

At that moment Lucy blanked.

 

She felt like she’d run a marathon and was still running, inhaling air without actually breathing anything as her lungs screamed with desperation. 

 

She clutched one hand to her chest, breathing in raspy and shaky breaths that rattled her entire body. She could feel every one of her limbs grow numb with sudden realization. 

 

Dr. Schaffer was here, somewhere in this base.

 

And she didn’t know what to do or if there was something she was supposed to do. 

 

She’d been getting better- she almost felt like she was back to where she’d been before entering Azzano. She had been so close, and now she was going to be knocked back to square one. She was getting sick of it: walking one step forward and two steps back every damn time. 

 

The anxiety in her chest was immediately buried by anger and frustration that piled up in mere seconds. Her hands clenched into tight fists and she slammed her arm back into the wall.

 

It collided with a loud crack. 

 

She felt her skin split against the wall, then the bricks itself splintering.

 

“Lucy!” Peggy jumped with surprise.

 

Lucy’s chest heaved as she held her hand in front of her, tremors traveling through her fingertips.

 

“I don’t know if that’s true or not.” Lucy spat through gritted teeth. “But he would know. And he wouldn’t lie about that.”

 

Peggy’s breath came out startled as she looked at her.

 

“Lucy, you need to calm down.” She said easily, holding one placating hand in front of her.

 

Peggy’s eyes were glued to her hands and Lucy looked down as she realized her fingers were covered in white smoky wisps. They twisted and turned all over her palms and wrists, climbing up her arms. 

 

Churning and spinning Lucy shut her eyes softly, focusing on the energy coursing through her body. Slowly but surely the white smoke dissipated and Peggy looked relieved.

 

“Breathe.” Peggy commanded.

 

Lucy inhaled and exhaled for a minute, lowering her erratic heartbeat.

 

A few minutes passed before she lifted her head.

 

“You said he would help, willingly.” Lucy clarified and Peggy nodded.

 

“Then he expects something in return.” She muttered. “What does he want?”

 

Peggy shook her head, a deep frown on her lips.

 

The sound of a door slamming open caused both of the women to stiffen and Lucy looked up quickly to catch sight of James, who had an angry look on his face 

 

“The bastard wouldn't tell us.” He snarled with distaste. “He said he’d only speak with you.”

 

Peggy stared at him, dumbfounded.

 

“Did you speak with him?!” She blanched, standing to her feet. “With all due respect Sergeant Barnes, you don’t have the clearance to do that.”

 

James crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly and Lucy noticed a tall golden retriever standing right behind him.

 

Steve looked something in between guilty and frustrated.

 

“But I do.” He stated as he leaned against the doorframe.

 

Peggy blinked, a blush rising from her neck and spreading to her cheeks.

 

“Steve.” She greeted.

 

Lucy stood up as well.

 

She hadn’t expected the Howling Commandos to return so quickly from their mission, but she supposed they were very efficient in what they did.

 

James stepped towards her and Lucy found herself wrapping her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He leaned his head against her shoulder, standing there for a few seconds before pulling away.

 

“He’s not alone, Lucy.” James grimaced, and Lucy felt her blood run cold.

 

“There’s a teen with him.”

 

Those were all the words it took for her to bolt down the hallway, followed by Steve then James and Peggy. 

 

She wasn’t sure if it had been a paternal desire that made her protect the child in Auschwitz but it didn’t matter. There was only one teen Lucy knew Dr. Schaffer would waste his time with, especially when the teen had been worth so much to her.

 

“Lucy! Wait!” Steve shouted, followed by Peggy shouting at her to stop.

 

Lucy had half the mind to hear her as she exited her barrack, darting towards the interrogation building that was settled near the center of camp. 

 

She weaved through other soldiers and sprinted inside the brick building without a moment of hesitation. She looked through the window of each interrogation room, seeing some of them empty, and some of them full, but all with people that she’d never seen.

 

She panted, slowing down slightly as Steve caught up to her.

 

“Lucy.” Steve tried to grab her arm as she peeked through another window.

 

She grabbed the doorknob so hard it broke underneath her grip. She slammed the door open, glaring furiously at a familiar knot of dark brown hair. 

 

Dr. Schaffer was leaning his cuffed hands against a metal table, tilting his head back with a soft hum. Besides him sat a familiar boy who looked older than Lucy had last remembered. But she could identify that uncanny face anywhere- the way his eyebrows arched when he was terrified, or how it dropped when he had determinedly shoveled dirt in their little race.

 

Lucy skidded to a stop, staring.

 

It gave Steve, James and Peggy enough time to appear behind her.

 

“Du. . ."

 

You’re. . .

 

The boy’s sharp brown eyes widened at the sight of her and Lucy remembered his name.

 

“Joseph, ja?”

 

Joseph, yes?

 

She said breathlessly.

 

He nodded, his hair bouncing as he did so. He was wearing casual clothes, alongside Dr. Schaffer, and she wondered just what the hell he was up to.

 

Dr. Schaffer cleared his throat and Joseph looked frightened by the small sound. It made Lucy’s blood boil as he turned his head to look at her. She balled her hands into fists, and Peggy pushed Steve and James out of the room.

 

They protested immediately but Peggy managed to persuade them enough to shut the door on them.

 

Dr. Schaffer grinned, flashing his teeth like a predator.

 

It made Lucy’s resolve shudder and groan as it tried not to break.

 

“I suppose you believe me now, Agent Carter.” Dr. Schaffer said, though his eyes remained on Lucy.

 

Peggy crossed her arms over her chest, an indifferent look on her face.

 

“I never said I didn’t believe you in the first place.” She replied coldly.

 

Lucy cautiously walked to the other side of the metal table, followed by Peggy. She brushed her fingers against the chair across from them as if it would explode if she sat. Lucy shook away her paranoia and sat down across from them.

 

She didn’t let her eyes move to Joseph, instead focused on Dr. Schaffer. 

 

She kept her hands under the table, not wanting him to be satisfied by the way her fingers trembled with adrenaline.

 

She said nothing, and nor did he, but for once she didn’t feel pressured to apologize. She kept his gaze relentlessly.

 

“There are a hundred military bases.” Lucy surprised herself by how dull her voice could become. “You came to this one because I was here. How did you know?”

 

Dr. Schaffer let out a deep throated chuckle and Joseph’s shoulders shook at the sound, looking as terrified as Lucy’s heart felt.

 

“I see you’re as perceptive as always, Lucy.” He sneered, his english slightly accented, before leaning forwards. “I’ll let you in on a little secret: I never left you.”

 

She clenched her hands against her thighs, her face remaining passive. Her heart thumped in her chest with anxiety as Peggy leaned forwards, putting a hand on the back of Lucy’s chair. 

 

These circumstances were different, she reminded herself, she had more mobility and more power over the situation.

 

“Explain.” Peggy hissed, looking like a tiger ready to pounce. 

 

Dr. Schaffer looked amused as he tilted his head.

 

“When the prisoners escaped in November of last year, I had planned to take Ver with me and leave, preferably to a place that wasn’t fully affected by this war.” He hummed. “But Captain America came to save the day. So I left without her.”

 

His lips turned downwards into a scowl.

 

“That didn’t mean I didn’t know where she was. I followed the 107th at a safe distance.” He pointed to Lucy. “You went to London almost immediately afterwards. I followed you then too. You went to a pub, I went there too. I even smoked a cigarette so you’d get the hint but you were too busy kissing Sergeant Barnes.”

 

He looked unbothered by the fact but Lucy knew he wasn’t. She knew he was probably furious and that no amount of apologies would get her out of the hole she dug herself.

 

She clenched her jaw.

 

She didn’t need to apologize because his opinion didn’t matter.

 

“Then you travelled from one base to another, even went back to Italy at one point. A month ago I found a few HYDRA agents trying to get a newbie to shoot someone. I recognized this boy,” he nodded his head towards Joseph, “so I sniped the other agents and took him with me. I thought he’d be useful.”

 

His eyes glimmered mischievously and Lucy let her eyes flick to Joseph who was avoiding everyone’s gaze. She gritted her teeth as she returned her gaze to Dr. Schaffer.

 

“Why show yourself now?” She asked sharply.

 

Dr. Schaffer beamed at her, and she recoiled at the familiar smile.

 

“Because I’ve decided HYDRA’s interests and my interests no longer align.” He stated. “And I’m useful enough that the US army won’t kill me. This place is safe, and they want information that I have.”

 

Lucy narrowed her eyes.

 

“I won’t give it, of course, unless I get what I want in return.” His smile pressed into a thin line as he put his handcuffed palms on the back of his head. “And I want what rightfully belongs to me.”

 

She supposed she should’ve seen it coming.

 

The way she’d been drowning her anger with calm tides that she’d hoped would’ve taken care of the emotion was bound to explode in one way or another. It was a roaring, brumous hurricane that slammed into her with full force.

 

For once she let it all out, unable to contain the words that spilled from her lips.

 

“Did you buy me?” She snarled angrily as she stood to her feet.

 

Her chair hit the ground with a rattle and Peggy stepped back in surprise.

 

“Do I look like a-a fucking table to you? Last I checked I don’t belong to anyone. Not you, not HYDRA, not anyone! Not to a narcissistic asshole like you! I’m sick of you appearing every single damn time I try to be myself. I’m just another person you would’ve met on the street. I’m not fucking special! You said it yourself. I’m worthless! Talentless! A waste of space!” Her chest rose and fell as she made dents in the interrogation table. “You use me as a punching bag, then expect me to be overjoyed by the way you smile and tell me how proud you are! I’d rather you just do one thing and not the other you sick, twisted, bastard!”

 

She heard Peggy mutter her name but Lucy chose to ignore her as Dr. Schaffer regarded her blankly.

 

He shifted in his seat, as if he wanted to stand, before leaning back.

 

“Are you done?” His voice was too calm, too collected.

 

Lucy felt her heart seize with panic. She forced herself to upright her chair and sit down again.

 

“Listen, Ver,” Dr. Schaffer smiled unnervingly, “you belonged to me the moment I decided to take a liking to you. You hardly have a choice in the matter. Besides, it’s the only reason you and this kid are still alive.”

 

Right, Lucy thought grimly, she wasn’t just bargaining her life. She was bargaining Joseph’s too.

 

Peggy placed a hand on Lucy’s shoulder.

 

“We’re not going to give you Lucy like a wrapped present.” She scowled. “We don’t care what type of information you have. It’s not happening.”

 

Dr. Schaffer looked unsurprised. 

 

But his eyes were trained on Lucy, waiting for her decision, for her to speak and put Joseph to death- because that’s what would happen. She wouldn’t know how he would do it but Joseph would die- or worse, he’d become the new Verfall and Lucy would be powerless to stop it.

 

She refused to let that happen.

 

She wondered if he was bargaining to let Joseph go, although Lucy wasn’t sure what type of relationship they had at the moment. It could be like her and him- Stockholm Syndrome, according to Peggy. Then it’d be difficult to remove Joseph from Dr. Schaffer’s side.

 

She exhaled.

 

“Is that all you’re proposing? Information?” She questioned and Dr. Schaffer shook his head.

 

“Oh no, of course not. Joseph will be put under your care and he doesn’t need to be beaten all the time, isn’t that right?” He nudged the boy with his elbow and he flinched violently, hands clutching the table. 

 

Lucy stood abruptly, grabbing Joseph’s chair and pulling it away from Dr. Schaffer with a glare. She could feel the moment Joseph’s shoulder’s sagged with relief as she moved him to sit beside her.

 

She was going to yell the ear off of whoever decided it was a good idea to keep the pair together.

 

“And, if it’s too difficult for you to make a choice,” Dr. Schaffer waved one of his cuffed hands, “I’ll compromise. You can supervise me to make sure I don’t kill anyone. Then I get to be with you while you keep this base safe from a massacre. And if you want time to yourself, fine, you can put me right back here. But only for a day or two. Oh, and do I have to specify I’m going to save your life with those IV drips? Hope not.”

 

Lucy grimaced at the end of his sentence, knowing full well he was right. It didn’t stop the frown forming on her face.

 

“What’s stopping you from using my trigger phrases?” She questioned.

 

She felt like an idiot for not asking that first.

 

“Nothing.” He threw his hands up in the air. “Except I don’t want to because I quite like it when you’re not just an empty shell.” 

 

“Although it was intriguing to watch you break.” He shrugged. “If I destroyed this place using you, then HYDRA will immediately know it’s you.”

 

His eyes glimmered darkly as he stared at her.

 

“And I hate it when people think my belongings are theirs.”

 

Lucy somehow felt relieved by the fact he was deciding to side with the US army for some time, even if that meant she’d very possibly suffer. 

 

She had some ability to change his mind, she realized, and that was useful.

 

Or, she pondered, he could just as well be manipulating her to get to something else. She inhaled deeply.

 

“Lucy.” Peggy started in a warning tone and Lucy grabbed her hand gently.

 

“How about this: you give us the information you have, and Joseph get’s to do what he wants to do because he has choices.” She clarified. “Then, whenever you are with me you remain handcuffed.”

 

Dr. Schaffer cocked his head to the side and Joseph looked up at her with appreciation.

 

“Fine.” He replied.

 

Lucy stood from her chair.

 

“Good.” She said curtly. “Peggy will let the Colonel know.”

 

She looked back at Peggy who looked back and forth, dumbfounded. 

 

“No.” She said bluntly and Lucy clenched her jaw.

 

She realized she hadn’t told Peggy who Joseph exactly was and she turned in her chair slightly.

 

“Peggy, this is the boy from the concentration camp.” She grimaced at the memory and Peggy’s eyes widened slightly. 

 

“He’s-“ she counted on her hand “-19 and still too young to die.” She gazed up at her with defiance. “I’m not going to be the reason he gets buried six feet under.”

 

Peggy swallowed thickly, her eyes flicking to Joseph who nervously fiddled with his shirt. 

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Lucy lifted her gaze to meet Dr. Schaffer’s. He leaned his chin against his folded hands, his lips a thin line. 

 

His eyes were glinting darkly, as if he was daring her to defy him. If she was going to get better, it was now or never to get rid of her ridiculous fear.

 

“I’m sure.” She nodded to Peggy. “Besides, I’ve got a very intimate relationship with James and Henry isn’t going to stomp all over it.”

 

Her voice was cold and sharp, like icicles stabbing into Dr. Schaffer’s chest. His eyes narrowed challengingly and Lucy?

 

Lucy merely leaned back into her seat, shutting her eyes with a smile.

Chapter 42: Forty One

"Here’s my cup of care. Look, it’s half empty. It’s not half full.”

London, England

January, 1944

LUCY FOUND HER PATIENCE running extraordinarily thin as her ankles dug into the snow-littered ground. She shoved her hands into her pant pockets, unbothered by the cold that could barely be even considered cold. She’d experienced worse and her body had grown somewhat resilient to freezing temperatures, not that the temperatures would drop that low. Approaching the barrack that served food would’ve been perfectly fine and somewhat enjoyable if she’d been alone, or better, with James. But the Howling Commandos were hiking back from their latest mission- demolishing yet another HYDRA base- and their estimated arrival was delayed by a few hours. They were supposed to be back by lunch but it was dinner.

 

And that meant she had to walk from her barrack to the barrack on the other side while shielding Joseph from Dr. Schaffer as the three of them trekked through the snow still falling around them. 

 

Joseph had been silent for the first few days Lucy separated him from Dr. Schaffer. He seemed unsure of what to do and, well, she could sympathize with that. Lucy knew it wasn’t just Dr. Schaffer’s idiocy that shut the teen down, but also the training he underwent as a HYDRA agent. It made her want to accuse Dr. Schaffer for lying about letting the poor boy go, but he hadn’t technically lied. 

 

Peggy ended up giving a helping hand because Lucy had been absolutely lost. 

 

Lucy could catch him smiling once or twice at the chaotic dynamic that overtook the Howling Commandos. It made her heart warm, but it didn’t get rid of the fact she had to walk around the base with Dr. Schaffer practically glued to her hip.

 

Joseph had shivered at one point and Lucy, like a mother hen, had removed her SSR coat and draped it over his timid shoulders.

 

Now Lucy was having a difficult time not snapping at Dr. Schaffer as he leaned his chin against the top of her head, putting his handcuffed hands over her shoulders.

 

In other words, she felt like she was dragging a weight behind her.

 

Joseph looked up at her almost apologetically but was wise enough not to say anything after catching sight of her frustrated face.

 

“Get. Off.” Lucy hissed through gritted teeth.

 

She felt Dr. Schaffer’s throat vibrate against her head as he hummed thoughtfully.

 

“No.” He said bluntly and Lucy grabbed ahold of his upper arm.

 

She ducked down and flipped him, body slamming him into the ground. She glared at him with narrowed eyes as she pressed her elbow against his upper shoulder.

 

Joseph skidded to a stop as he eyed the pair with concern.

 

Dr. Schaffer stared up at her with a grin, cocking his head to the side as he waited for her to do something. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her jaw as she pulled herself back onto her feet. 

 

“Come on.” She said softly, gently nudging Joseph as they continued towards the barrack.

 

“How long are you going to remain so soft?” Dr. Schaffer spoke with wonderment as he appeared by her side again, shaking snow from his hair. “Or do you not want to hit me?”

 

Lucy snapped her head to the side, for once out of anger rather than anxiety. She swiveled on her foot with her fist aimed for his perfect nose. 

 

He caught it easily, his grip painfully tight as he leaned down slightly. He put his other hand on her shoulder and she swallowed thickly as his nails dug into her flesh.

 

Terror travelled through her body and she struggled to keep it in her stomach as she counted her breathing.

 

“This counts as self-defense, doesn’t it?” He smiled darkly and Lucy grimaced as he pressed his palm harder against her shoulder.

 

Her knees threatened to buckle out of habit but she refused to let him win as she gazed up at him.

 

“You can use self-defense against other soldiers if they try to kill you for what you did.” She bit the inside of her cheek, hard. “This is torture, and you kn-know that.”

 

She cursed herself for stuttering, dropping her eyes to his nose. She loosened her fist, letting her arm relax. She waited for Dr. Schaffer to let go of her hand, and once he did she immediately slammed her forehead into his. 

 

He stumbled back, blinking stars out of his eyes as Lucy brushed her hand against her shoulder, momentarily relieved by the absence of blood.

 

“I want to hit you so damn much.” Lucy glowered. “I just choose not to.”

 

Dr. Schaffer looked at her with a grin and she had the feeling she’d only grow more and more aggravated. Her shoulders dropped with a tired look, waving her hand towards the barracks.

 

“Can we just get food?” She sighed. 

 

Joseph crossed his arms over his chest with a silent nod, and Dr. Schaffer rolled his eyes.

 

“You’re no fun.” He pouted like a child and Lucy decided to ignore him. 

 

Again.

 

They finally entered the barrack, and soldiers immediately looked up at them, mostly with distaste or anger towards Dr. Schaffer. Lucy decided their gazes were justified as she grabbed a tin tray and moved to grab whatever army rations that were on the menu.

 

Joseph shyly followed behind her and Dr. Schaffer stood beside her as she handed both of them a tray.

 

“Don’t make a scene.” Lucy muttered. “Please.”

 

She shuddered at the memory of bringing Dr. Schaffer into the eating area the first time. It had been an absolute disaster because one person had looked at her the wrong way and Dr. Schaffer had made it his business. 

 

The person behind the table scooped them enough food without a care and Lucy let out a relieved sigh when the trio sat down at one of the empty tables.

 

“Here.” Lucy said as she moved her tray to Joseph. “You should eat more than that.”

 

Joseph looked down at his tray, then her tray, then back up to her. He looked dumbfounded, before giving her an appreciative nod. 

 

Lucy felt Dr. Schaffer’s stare but she didn’t spare him a glance as Joseph cleared his throat.

 

“Can I ask you something?” He asked, his English unsurprisingly fluent.

 

After all, he spoke German like Peggy.

 

Lucy blinked, then nodded.

 

“Why. . .me?” He questioned. “At the camp. There were others, but you protected me.”

 

Lucy pressed her lips together, unsure of how to answer that.

 

“Well,” she started, “there wasn’t a very specific reason. I wasn’t. . .really all there at the time. But if I were to guess, I think it’s because you were the youngest man there and it just felt wrong for you to die like that.”

 

Joseph nodded in understanding as he ate a spoonful of stew.

 

Lucy let a half-smile slip onto her face, leaning her elbows against the table. She watched him eat for a few seconds before glancing at Dr. Schaffer. Her breath hitched in her throat as his narrowed eyes roamed her face, over and over again, like he was trying to decipher something he couldn’t understand.

 

“Why haven’t you eaten in two days?” He finally asked as he pointed at her with his fork, twirling it between his fingers.

 

Lucy eyed the potential weapon in his hand, frowning.

 

“Not hungry.” She shrugged and Dr. Schaffer folded his hands together.

 

“You need a greater intake of food than everyone here.” He stated, voice cold and empty of it’s playfulness. “You shouldn’t be skipping meals.”

 

Lucy scowled at him, folding her hands across her chest as she looked away.

 

It wasn’t like she was skipping meals because she enjoyed feeling hungry. She just couldn’t stomach much of anything with Dr. Schaffer sitting right across from her. It was easier when James and the rest of the Howling Commandos were laughing heartily around her.

 

But sitting with just the pair she was with, well, she was more focused on keeping her voice steady and her hands motionless to look less fearful than she actually was. It took a lot out of her to try and look genuinely menacing towards Dr. Schaffer because there was still that small part of her that brightened whenever he looked at her with a proud smile. And there was still a huge part of her that wanted to curl up and lay in defeat- to become Verfall because it was so much easier to be nothing than something at times.

 

It made her want to throw up and food would only make her feel worse.

 

“I can, and I will.” She said firmly. “I’ll just eat later.”

 

Dr. Schaffer looked unamused as he slowly put his fork down, touching the table with a small clink.

 

“You’re going to waste MRE’s?” He raised an eyebrow, disappointment written all over his face. 

 

Lucy suppressed a habitual flinch.

 

“It’ll be my MRE’s so it doesn’t matter.” She replied.

 

He stared at her blankly for a few seconds and Lucy felt her heart drop to her stomach. She clasped her hands tightly together as she dropped her gaze to the table, having the urge to bring her shoulders inward.

 

Familiar but very loud voices entered the barracks and Lucy turned her head with relief as James, Dum Dum, and the rest of the Howling Commandos excluding Steve entered with wide grins on their faces.

 

“Guess who burned the bitch to the ground?!” Dum Dum shouted and the soldiers sitting around immediately perked up with smiles of their own.

 

“We did!” James announced and the barrack was immediately filled with applause and cheers.

 

Lucy waved at them and James sent her a cocky wink as he turned to grab rations with everyone else. 

 

The sound of metal scraping against metal caught her attention and she shifted her gaze to the table, where a tray of food was being shoved her way. She flinched as Dr. Schaffer leaned over to her. A flicker of pleasant surprise jumped between his eyes, before he forcefully grabbed her hand and put his fork in it.

 

“Eat.” He said curtly as he shifted back into his seat.

 

He crossed one leg over the other and Lucy struggled not to lower herself to her knees. The motion was ingrained in her brain and she had to take a long breath to ignore herself.

 

Dum Dum slid into the seat next to Dr. Schaffer after arguing with James through his eyes. James sat down next to Lucy, with Jim and Gabe sitting besides the pair. Falsworth sat on Dr. Schaffer’s right, immediately digging into his food.

 

Dr. Schaffer, for his part, looked unbothered by the fact he was now surrounded by bitter soldiers. His eyes were focused on Lucy as she gripped the fork in her hand.

 

They were quick to feel the tension in the air and James placed a gentle hand on Lucy’s arm. 

 

“Eat.” Dr. Schaffer repeated sharply. “Or I’ll make you kill everyone at this table.”

 

Dum Dum snapped his head to stare at him with a deadly glare and James clenched his jaw as he opened his mouth to retort.

 

“I don’t want to eat when you're here.” She said smoothly. “You disgust me.”

 

James moved to give her a high-five when Dr. Schaffer let out a soft chuckle, making her insides twist and turn with anxiety.

 

“Really?” He leaned his chin against his palm. “I, for one, think it’s lingering conditioning. You want to listen to me, but you know you shouldn’t. Right?”

 

Lucy impaled a mushy piece of beef with her fork aggressively.

 

She should’ve realized he would see right through her.

 

“And if that’s true?” She spoke calmly and Dr. Schaffer smiled.

 

It was one filled with pride and approval. 

 

“It’s fine if you’re drawn to do that with me.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that with anyone else.”

 

Lucy’s grip on her fork grew so tight it bent underneath her hand.

 

She gritted her teeth as she pulled the fork back and threw it at him, beef and all. 

 

Unsurprisingly, he caught it, raising one curious eyebrow.

 

Lucy stared at him with a roaring flame flickering between her eyes but she said nothing. The Howling Commandos looked on with a touch of worry and protectiveness. James pressed closer to her side, lips curled into a snarl as he glared at Dr. Schaffer.

 

A tin tray clattered against another as Joseph stacked his empty plate loudly.

 

“Can we just have one peaceful dinner Mr.Schaffer?!” He burst, eyebrows twitching with annoyance.

 

Dr. Schaffer looked taken aback, a soft smile forming on his face.

 

“Oh?” His eyes darkened devilishly and Joseph swallowed thickly with instant regret. “Did you just yell at me?”

 

Lucy cleared her throat, grabbing onto Dr. Schaffer’s cuffed hands before he could do anything.

 

“He’s right. We can argue another time.” She pushed his hands away before turning to Joseph. “I’m sorry. We’re failing to be adults at the moment.”

 

Joseph still looked nervous but he nodded with a half-hearted smile anyway, turning back to finish his food.

 

Dr. Schaffer scoffed, sliding the fork back to her. His eyes wandered to Joseph, eyes lighting up as if he was planning to do, well, something.

 

Lucy frowned- she knew that look- and gnawed on the inside of her cheek before grabbing the fork loudly, eating the beef stew begrudgingly. It caught Dr. Schaffer’s attention and the dangerous glimmer in his eyes disappeared as a pleasant smile slipped onto his face.

 

He beamed.

 

She looked away.

 

“James, love.” Lucy glanced up at him. “Where’s Steve?”

 

James’s cheeks tinted red slightly at the endearment, although Lucy really thought he’d be used to it by now.

 

“He’s reporting our mission's success, darling.” James winked as he took a bite of his own stew.

 

Lucy’s lips twitched upwards as she nodded in understanding. It made sense, especially since Steve was a Captain now. That also must’ve been where Peggy was. 

 

A soft sigh escaped her lips.

 

She would be lying if she actually enjoyed having so much free time to herself. Sure, she had an asshole tailing her almost everyday- with Joseph tagging along when he wasn’t training with the other soldiers out of boredom- but Lucy rarely went on missions and she wanted to do something for the military.

 

But with all the information Dr. Schaffer spewed, she supposed she did her part already.

 

“How’d it go? You’re not injured so I suppose it was a breeze.” She hummed and James grinned at her.

 

“Of course not, Dernier just popped a bomb on the bottom of their truck and boom, damn big of an explosion.” He nodded towards the French man who saluted the pair with a smirk.

 

Lucy let out a soft chuckle, giving him a thumbs up.

 

“‘Course, we got some headshots in. Damn HYDRA agents were everywhere, scuttling around like ants.” Dum Dum barked a laugh. “But, well, we’re the boot.”

 

Dr. Schaffer suppressed a chuckle and Lucy shot him a curious look, nodding along with Dum Dum as she did so. He stopped playing with his cuffs, noticing her gaze as his lips twitched upwards.

 

“Just like you.” He smirked. “But ants like you can’t run that fast, can they?”

 

Lucy stared at him for a long few seconds, enough time for Dum Dum to elbow Dr. Schaffer hard in the side. He barely glanced at him, watching her carefully.

 

“I suppose not.” She admitted calmly. “That’s what you like right? Slow ants, so you can watch them for awhile before-“

 

She smacked her hand against the table.

 

“-you step on them.” She paused. “I wonder how long it’ll take before you decide to get bored and step on me like you stepped on all the other test subjects.”

 

Dr. Schaffer flashed his teeth.

 

James gave her a concerned look but she barely noticed it as anger boiled in her stomach.

 

“I don’t want to step on you, Ver.” He tilted his head. “In fact, I don’t think I ever will. You’re smart, useful and abnormally odd. You’re the only person who seems to care about me even after I beat you half to death. It’s amusing.”

 

Lucy clenched her jaw, saying nothing as she stood with her now empty tray. She turned to put it away, stopping for a second.

 

“You’re just like your father.” She said sharply.

 

She could see the moment his eyes grew wide and dim, as if she’d stabbed him in the stomach and ripped the blade out, leaving him in a crimson mess, barely breathing. And she was satisfied, for one second, to be able to piss someone like him off. To push his buttons and make him want to explode.

 

It was only the way his hands clenched into fists that made her realize how stupid of a mistake she had made.

 

He let out a carefully controlled breath, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. Lucy’s grip on her tray tightened as fear trailed up and down her spine. 

 

She could feel her skin grow numb.

 

The Howling Commandos looked back and forth between them, shifting as if they were going to jump up and protect her.

 

“Verfall.” Dr. Schaffer spoke with a teeth-filled smile.

 

Lucy shivered. 

 

“I don’t know if you’ve lost your mind or not,” he paused, “but I think you should apologize. Don’t you agree?”

 

His dark eyes met hers and she froze, a shaky breath leaving her lips. Disappointment flickered between his eyes as he took in her wobbly state.

 

“Oh please, don’t panic now. You brought this onto yourself.” He said coldly.

 

Lucy ducked her head, hair falling in her face as she inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself down.

 

“Shut up!” James snarled, jumping to his feet and throwing a fist.

 

“Woah, Buck!” Dum Dum caught James’s hand before it could break Dr. Schaffer’s nose. “We can’t beat him up until the Colonel gets all his info.”

 

James shot him a glare and Dum Dum looked taken aback by the motion.

 

“I’m sorry.” Lucy blurted as she accidentally snapped the tray in her hand in half.

 

All eyes flicked towards her.

 

“I didn’t mean it. You’re better than your father. You took care of me and made sure Schmidt wouldn’t have me kill more people. You didn’t let him write me off and have me killed either.” Lucy flinched at the disbelieving look the members of the Howling Commandos gave her. “That’s what you want to hear, but guess what? I still can’t understand how you can treat someone else like your father treated you.”

 

Dr. Schaffer narrowed his eyes.

 

James looked up at her with confusion.

 

“I don’t.” Dr. Schaffer denied and Lucy rubbed her eye with one hand.

 

It was ridiculous- this was ridiculous.

 

“You do.” She replied firmly. “You just don’t want to admit it. And if you can’t admit it you can’t change. So I’m not sitting here, taking your shit because I think I can somehow change you. That’s- that’s stupid and wishful thinking.”

 

She took a deep breath.

 

“I’m doing this because I remember what you taught me. I’m doing it out of fear that you’ll hurt me. It’s what you wanted, right?” She shook her head. “And you could kill James if you really wanted to but I’ll be the Ver you want for a day and you’ll change your mind in an instant. You never really care about anything and it’s frustrating.”

 

Her hands shook as she stared at him with a defiant glare.

 

“So I’m sorry that I called you someone like that. But I’m not sorry for calling you an asshole. Go ahead, beat me till I can’t move.” Her voice shook. “You’ve done it so many times, I’m used to it, although I doubt you’ll find a bathtub to drown me in.”

 

She swallowed thickly.

 

Dr. Schaffer’s eyebrows were furrowed as if he didn’t understand her, and maybe he didn’t. She supposed that might’ve been better- easier for her to handle.

 

Joseph looked sympathetic as he played with the last bite of his food.

 

“I’m sorry.” Dr. Schaffer gazed up at her with earnest sincerity but Lucy knew it wasn’t real.

 

The Howling Commandos seemed fooled, and glanced at each other with surprise.

 

Lucy blinked, unfazed.

 

“I know.” She nodded glumly. “It’s what you always say.”

 

She really did hate how much she cared about his opinion. 

 

Chapter 43: Forty Two

"You shouldn’t drink poison just because you’re thirsty.”

London, England

February, 1944

LUCY WAS TRAPPED IN a room. It was a familiar room, with four blank walls that seemed to sneer at her as she struggled to find a way out. There was no door, no window- nothing- just her and the four walls. A logical part of her shouted that this was impossible but Lucy had half the mind to care in her panic. She dragged her palms against the concrete, pulling her shaking hands away at the sheer amount of cold emanating from each block. But the room itself was warm, and it made Lucy confused. The box-like room was small enough for her to see everything at once, except for whatever was behind her. She realized the fact rather quickly, looking over her shoulder every few seconds out of paranoia. She wondered if Dr. Schaffer had escaped and he’d sealed her in a place with no way in or out, until someone broke the walls from the outside. She guessed it was possible, but she didn’t dwell on the thought. 

 

The sound of a click had her whirling around. 

 

She blinked with disbelief as Dr. Schaffer leaned against a chair, in front of a table that’d suddenly appeared. She barely had time to process it when her body seemed to move on it’s own. She raced towards him and raised her fist. When her fist connected with his nose, blood dripped down his lip. She recoiled, eyes flickering back and forth with confusion as he fell back onto the floor.

 

She hesitantly looked around the table, and her eyes widened with horror. She clasped a hand to her mouth as she hit the ground with a thud. Dr. Schaffer’s eyes were unseeing and his chest had stopped rising and falling. He was dead, in the most literal sense, that Lucy had no idea what she could do. She forced her numb limbs to crawl forwards and she grasped onto his hand.

 

It was cold.

 

She yanked her hand back and Lu- Verfall felt tears collect at the edges of her eyes, trickling down her cheeks and dripping to her chin. She reached forwards and wiped the blood from his face, but it continued to flow down his mouth. She stood to her feet, stumbling away with a sharp gasp.

 

The sound of a click had her whirling around.

 

She instinctively ducked her head, lowering her shoulders and clasping her hands behind her back. She waited, but when nothing was said, she lifted her head. A scream caught in her throat as her handler stared, dead-eyed and breathless. She scrambled forwards and tried her best to regenerate something- to fix whatever she’d done.

 

Nothing changed.

 

Her hands grasped his and she drew back from how absolutely cold his skin was. She wiped her tears and tried to bring warmth to his hand. She waited, and waited, but he remained dead. She pulled away from him, hugging herself tightly as her eyes wandered the box she was in.

 

The sound of a click had her whirling around.

 

She tumbled out of her bed, dragging her blanket with her as she let out a low whimper. The four walls were gone, replaced by a small row of military beds, a familiar head of brown curls occupying one, and a boy occupying the other. Verfall blinked tears out of her eyes as she untangled herself from the fabric wrapped around her. She pulled shoes over her feet, padding softly across the room as her eyes darted across the room in a frantic search for Dr. Schaffer. 

 

He was nowhere to be found and dread filled her stomach. Her hands trembled as she shook the woman- the name Peggy passed her mind- awake. 

 

She yawned tiredly as she sat up, rubbing her eyes with furrowed eyebrows. She looked up at Verfall with confusion and her grip on Peggy’s arm tightened.

 

“Lucy?” She questioned with a frown.

 

Verfall flinched, letting go of her arm as if she’d been burned.

 

“Hey, hey.” Peggy spoke in a soft whisper. “What’s wrong? Bad dream?”

 

She lifted her head, tears threatening to fall as she shook.

 

“Herr is- Herr is-“ she stammered and a look flashed across Peggy’s face before she climbed out of bed.

 

“He is?” She pressed gently.

 

Verfall swallowed thickly, stumbling backwards.

 

“Herr is dead.” She whispered. “I killed him.”

 

Peggy’s frown deepened and Verfall instinctively lowered her head, shoulders drawing inward. She let out a soft sigh, taking her hand.

 

“He isn’t dead, Soldat.” Peggy claimed but Verfall shook her head firmly.

 

“No! I saw him. He was bleeding and he- he’s dead because of me!” She cried.

 

Peggy glanced over at Joseph who was still asleep. 

 

She looked up at Verfall, biting the inside of her lips before putting on her shoes and grabbing a thick wool coat. She pulled her towards the barrack entrance and Verfall stumbled over her feet as she followed her. 

 

The air was frigid and cold, snow crunching underneath their feet as they approached a tall building that looked inexplicably dreary.

 

Peggy pushed open the door and walked past several rooms before stopping in front of a metal door. For a second Verfall thought she might’ve done something wrong and she was going to be placed in the box again. Peggy unlocked the door and entered. Verfall gazed at her with uncertainty before she also walked inside.

 

The room was nearly empty. 

 

There was a singular metal table, with a chair, and a cot nestled against the wall. And there was someone on it, chest rising and falling at a slow pace. 

 

Verfall lurched forwards at the sight of Dr. Schaffer’s familiar face, dropping to sit beside the cot as she anxiously reached one arm out. She placed her palm against the top of his hand and slumped against the floor with relief when the warmth of his hand unfurled against hers.

 

He shifted for a moment before his eyes opened and Verfall immediately dropped her eyes to her hand, which was still clutching tightly to his. He sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand, before swinging his leg over the cot and staring down at her with a blank look. 

 

His eyes shifted to Peggy, who was standing at the door with her hands crossed over her chest, upset by the fact Lucy’s nightmares were as bad as they were. And sometimes the only way to snap her out of it was for her to see Dr. Schaffer himself.

 

Peggy expected a snide remark, but Dr. Schaffer merely looked back down at Verfall, placing his other hand over hers.

 

“What was it?” He sighed and Verfall’s grip on his hand tightened.

 

Dr. Schaffer grimaced at the force of her grip but he said nothing as she trembled, shoulders shaking.

 

“You died.” She whispered. “I killed you.”

 

He hummed softly.

 

She flinched as his hand moved towards her head and she waited to be hit when he softly pressed his palm against her hair, threading his fingers through the knots that’d formed.

 

“You didn’t now, did you?” He assured. “I’m right here.”

 

Verfall shut her eyes, pressing her face against his leg as tears of relief flooded down her cheeks. Her grip on his hand loosened but it remained there as she sniffled.

 

“Was it scary?” He spoke like he was talking to a child and Verfall didn’t notice, nodding in response.

 

“If you leave I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She clutched onto his pant leg tightly. “Please don’t leave and- and don’t die.”

 

Dr. Schaffer chuckled and Verfall felt herself relaxing at the familiar sound. He continued to comb through her hair, watching as Verfall’s eyes threatened to fall shut. 

 

A few seconds passed before Peggy cleared her throat. She stared at Dr. Schaffer with a glare and his lips curled into a smirk as he pulled his hand away. Verfall opened her eyes at the warmth’s disappearance and nudged her head towards his palm.

 

“This is why I keep you around, Lucy.” He grabbed her shoulder firmly and Verfall winced, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I guess you just have a hard time accepting how much you care about me.”

 

Verfall looked down, shutting her eyes tightly out of fear. Her grip on his pant leg didn’t waver, and she refused to pull her hand away. 

 

“Snap out of it.” He said sharply. “Unless you want Agent Bitch over there to stand in my room all night.” 

 

He pointed towards Peggy- right, Peggy was here- and Verfall turned her head to face her.

 

Peggy forced a soft smile onto her lips, taking a small placating step forward. Verfall frowned at the motion and silently half-crawled under his cot, staring at Peggy with a pleading look as she held onto him. 

 

Dr. Schaffer’s eyelid twitched and with a begrudging sigh he leaned down and reached forwards to grab her by the hair.

 

“Don’t you dare.” Peggy hissed from where she stood, and Verfall stiffened as Dr. Schaffer’s hand disappeared.

 

He stared at Peggy with an impatient look and she ran a hand over her face, stress flickering between her gaze.

 

“She. . .clearly wants to stay.” Peggy admitted slowly and Dr. Schaffer rolled his eyes tiredly. 

 

“And I don’t want you in here.” He replied bluntly. “So let me drag her out and-“

 

Peggy glared at him vehemently and he threw his hands up in surrender.

 

“I’ll be back.” She said to both of them before turning around and locking the door.

 

Verfall loosened her body, relaxing as the threat left the room. She climbed out from under the cot and seated herself next to Dr. Schaffer’s leg again, holding tightly to him.

 

He glanced down at her, a soft smile forming on his lips. He reached his hand forwards again, gently brushing through her hair.

 

“I think, this time, I really am sorry.” He said and Verfall absentmindedly tilted her head into his hand. “For giving you nightmares and forcing you to kill others. I suppose I should’ve broken you out when I first realized how odd you were.”

 

Verfall blinked several times. She didn’t really understand what he meant but she didn’t dare interrupt or tell him so.

 

“Your file said you were a nurse.” He paused. “I wonder, if we met in different circumstances, if we’d be working together at a hospital. If there was no war, maybe things could’ve been different and I might’ve seen a shrink.” 

 

A deep throated laugh escaped his lips and she looked up at him curiously. His eyes were glistening in the dark, and she had half the mind to wonder if he was crying.

 

“Ah, but, what can you do? Life’s unfair and I hardly care about changing the way I am.” His hand stopped moving in her hair and Verfall swallowed nervously as he pushed his foot against her side. “I enjoy it so. . .”

 

He trailed off as he caught sight of her round eyes. 

 

He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as an odd feeling bubbled in his stomach, like his insides were twisting and turning with ice. He felt like his throat was closing up, an incessant throb in his chest, as if he was suffocating.

 

He hated it.

 

“At least,” he grimaced, “I think I do.”

 

Verfall blinked slowly, before leaning her head against his knee and shutting her eyes. 

 

Dr. Schaffer narrowed his eyes for a moment before grabbing her by the nape of her neck and shoving her head towards the floor. Her eyes snapped open and she let out a choked gasp, clutching onto his hand with wide eyes of surprise and confusion. His grip tightened, nails digging into her skin and she looked up with tears in her eyes.

 

The same feeling bubbled in his stomach, twice as bad as it was before and he immediately let go of her neck.

 

Verfall sniffled and slid across the ground, hiding halfway underneath his cot as she anxiously watched him.

 

Anger bloomed in his chest.

 

“I feel. . .bad.” He glowered. “I don’t feel bad. Ever.” 

 

Verfall winced.

 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered quietly. 

 

Dr. Schaffer said nothing.

 

“It’s. . .not your fault.” He frowned as the door opened again.

 

Peggy stepped inside with two blankets and two pillows. Verfall watched with calculating eyes as she placed the blanket on the ground and sat down quietly, placing both pillows at the top of the blanket-mat.

 

“What are you doing?” Dr. Schaffer glared at Peggy who frowned.

 

“I want her to be comfortable but I also don’t want you to take advantage of being near Lucy, you asshole.” She snapped.

 

Dr. Schaffer scowled before looking down at Verfall.

 

“Go, sleep over there.” He pointed to the blankets impatiently.

 

Verfall carefully climbed out of the cot and stood, stepping over towards Peggy who shot her a weary smile. She sat down before laying back. She leaned onto her side as Dr. Schaffer turned to face the wall, grumbling as he went back to sleep.

 

Verfall let her eyes flutter closed as she fell asleep.

 

A few minutes of silence passed before Ver- Lucy sat up again. 

 

She was careful not to wake Peggy, who’d fallen fast asleep, as she slowly took the blanket out of her grasp. She folded the other blanket over her like a sleeping bag before approaching Dr. Schaffer.

 

She draped the blanket over him, lips pursed.

 

“Jerk.” Lucy huffed as she turned back around and sat against the wall. “Blue-eyes is an angel compared to you. He’s the kindest person I’ve ever met and you ruined that.”

 

“But you’re still something like a-a friend to me.” 

 

She scoffed.

 

“A toxic friend I’m trying to get rid of.”

Chapter 44: Forty Three

"I fell in love with you because you loved me when I couldn’t love myself.”

London, England

March, 1944

“JAMES I SWEAR TO GOD I will murder you!” Lucy hollered as she chased after a tuft of brown hair aided by a seemingly innocent Joseph as sunlight reflected off the beer bottles in their hands.

 

Lucy wiped sweat off her brow, grinning mischievously when Steve appeared in front of them, pointing at them with an accusatory finger. 

 

The Howling Commandos were supposed to throw a magnificent birthday party for James, but their plans were scrapped when Joseph let loose the news of booze being held in one of the barracks. Now Steve, Lucy and Peggy were struggling to grab the pair before they could drink everything. 

 

Joseph let out an unmanly shriek as he turned on his heel and sprinted in the opposite direction, right into Lucy. She winked at him and Joseph looked back and forth before grabbing James’s arm and tugging him to the right.

 

James’s eyes lit up and followed instantly.

 

“Oh no you don’t!” Lucy and Steve shouted at the same time.

 

She lunged at James and tackled him to the ground. He let loose a short-lived shriek as his face kissed the dirt. Lucy let out a laugh before stealing the beer bottles from his hands. James groaned with defeat, before grinning up at her mischievously. Lucy raised an eyebrow as he threw her over, turning so he was above her instead. She huffed, hugging the beer bottles so James couldn’t take them. He pursed his lip into a pout, before pecking her on the cheek.

 

Lucy blinked, before red tinted her cheeks.

 

“James!” She whined as he pulled himself off of her.

 

He looked down at her triumphantly and she rolled her eyes as she stood back onto her feet. 

 

She looked to Steve a few feet away, playfully wrestling Joseph as he tried to reach for the beers. James laughed at the sight, clutching his stomach as he pointed. Lucy juggled the beers in her hand as Peggy appeared around the corner.

 

“Catch!” Lucy shouted and Peggy looked up just in time to catch two bottles.

 

She shot Lucy a chiding look as she rushed over towards Joseph. 

 

“Watch out!” James yelled at Joseph who ducked as Lucy barreled towards them.

 

She shrieked and caught her balance last second, snatching a beer from Joseph’s hand. He wailed in despair as Lucy put a hand on her hip, holding her hand out for the other one in his hand. Joseph begrudgingly handed her the glass and she let loose a small sigh.

 

“You guys seriously couldn’t wait ten more minutes?” Steve questioned with a raised eyebrow and James crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“It was a good attempt.” He said woefully.

 

Joseph nodded glumly beside him.

 

“It would’ve been the greatest heist ever.” He sighed sadly.

 

Lucy ruffled Joseph’s hair and he groaned as he rearranged his locks. 

 

“I’m only. . .” He trailed off. “. . .some years younger than you!”

 

James raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on the shoulder of his partner in crime.

 

“She’s six years older than you.” He supported and Joseph huffed.

 

He mumbled something along the lines of ‘that’s not so much’ and Lucy suppressed a giggle.

 

“Technically, I’m five and a half years older than you.” She grinned. “So I’ve got older sister privileges.”

 

Joseph rolled his eyes lightheartedly with a pout.

 

Lucy laughed softly at his expression before turning to Steve who took the bottles from her hands.

 

“C’mon boys.” Lucy huffed. “We’ve got a party to attend.”

 

James’s eyes brightened and he gave Joseph a high-five as they followed Lucy into the barrack where they served food. Peggy stepped besides her and Steve clapped a hand on James’s back, grinning. 

 

The events of October had been pushed to the back of their heads, not fully ignored but also not fully acknowledged. Dr. Schaffer’s usefulness was faltering, and Lucy suspected his death would come sooner than she’d expected. She didn’t know how to feel about any of it, if she was being honest. It hurt her mind to even think about it, so she tried her best to ignore it, much like the trauma James still refused to speak of. 

 

She understood, since Lucy hardly ever wanted to talk about her experiences in absolute clarity and full detail. There were times she remembered moments of Auschwitz so vividly she would throw up just by falling backwards into a pile of too high snow that covered her entire body and encased her in cold- cold-

 

She shook her head as if to get rid of the thoughts, keeping a relaxed grin on her face. She couldn’t have been happier that the weather had grown warmer and much more tolerable even though she was resistant to most cold temperatures. And she couldn’t have been more excited to be able to spend James’s birthday with him- without Dr. Schaffer tagging along, for once.

 

Dum Dum popped a bottle of champagne when the group appeared at the entrance, and James let out a gasp of awe and disbelief. 

 

The barrack hadn’t undergone a miraculous transformation to make the party more party-like- that was near impossible to do in a military barrack. Instead, the beds had been pushed to the sides, pressing against the walls and stuck to each other. At the center of the room was a wide table stacked with plates and food- real food, not something out of army rations. There was baked potatoes, meat, fresh vegetables none of them had seen in probably years, apart from the one time they stumbled upon a farm. 

 

It was the best they could do- Lucy and Steve could only hope it would be enough.

 

“Hell yeah!” James shouted as he practically tackled Dum Dum.

 

Dernier barked a laugh, going on in French as Falsworth pulled them into a hug. Gabe and Jim clapped James on the back in congratulations as Peggy waved a hand with several metal canteens in her arms.

 

“Happy birthday James.” Lucy smiled softly.

 

He looked at her, eyes shining brightly as he bounded over to her. Lucy let out a small squeak as his hands slipped over her waist, picking her up and spinning her in the air. Her cheeks reddened slightly as he gently placed her back onto her feet.

 

He pulled a strand of hair behind her ear and Lucy gnawed on her cheek before planting a soft kiss on his lips.

 

Dum Dum whistled alongside Jim and Gabe, who whooped with a laugh. Steve shook his head with a small chuckle, and Peggy glanced up at him. 

 

“I love you so damn much.” James exclaimed, his tone light but his words weighted with genuine meaning.

 

Lucy let her lips twitch upwards as she fought the flustered feeling that crept up her neck.

 

Steve noticed Peggy looking at him and he blushed as she did, the pair quickly looking away from each other. Lucy couldn’t help wiggling her eyebrows at Peggy who rolled her eyes at her lightheartedly.

 

“And look!” Joseph exclaimed as he held two pie dishes in the air. “We’ve got real apple pie, not the ones made with crackers!”

 

James darted over towards him, immediately grabbing one of the pies from him and taking a long sniff. He practically melted on the spot, spinning on his feet as he looked between his comrades.

 

“Let’s eat!”

 

The night was filled with drinking, dancing, cheers and shouts. Steve was shouldering a drunk Peggy who was louder than she usually was. Dum Dum and Gabe were dead drunk, obnoxious and full of laughter as they chugged more bottles of beer down. Dernier was singing in French to the tune of Chattanooga Chu-Chu. 

 

Monty seemed to have a difficult time not teasing Jim who grinned about his girl back on US soil. James wasn’t drunk but he had fallen victim to the atmosphere and was reckless as he tossed a beer bottle to Dum Dum who caught it haphazardly, laughing.

 

Lucy had enjoyed herself for most of the time, but she had started getting overwhelmed by how loud everyone had gotten. 

 

That’s why she found herself here, on the rooftop of the barrack, staring into the stars with a small bottle of whiskey in her hand. She could still faintly hear her comrades singing and laughing. It was good to know she wasn’t really alone, even if she thought she was.

 

“I thought I’d find you up here.” 

 

She hummed with acknowledgment, turning her head slightly as James appeared in her vision, stepping over towards her softly. She smiled absentmindedly as she turned her head back to look ahead of her. She took a swig of her whiskey.

 

James leaned his elbows against the ledge.

 

“So. . .” He cleared his throat. “. . .do you think this works?”

 

Lucy blinked, before turning towards him.

 

“This? Us?” She waved her hand between them and James nodded. “I think I could never regret loving you, and I think you care enough about me to move slowly in this relationship.”

 

James observed her expression and Lucy gazed into his bright blue eyes.

 

“So, yes. I think this works.” 

 

He let out a small chuckle, laced with a bit of relief. He gently placed his hand atop of his. She looked at him before offering her his bottle. 

 

He took it and took a small swig.

 

“Can I. . .” He bit the inside of his lip. “Can I ask you something about Schaffer?”

 

Lucy resisted the urge to flinch. She swirled the liquid in her whiskey bottle, breathing a soft sigh.

 

“Sure.” She said.

 

James fiddled with his fingers as he turned to face the stars. Lucy waited patiently as he thought.

 

“Does he love you?” He asked with curiosity. “I mean- it’s just- I’m not afraid you’ll love him or somethin’- I just don’t understand how he thinks, and I don’t know if he’ll. . .I don’t know. Try to take you against your will? He’s done that before- an-and it would be so wrong if he did-“

 

He tried not to stammer through his sentences, and Lucy was careful to look at him with an unbothered gaze. She didn’t need him to feel guilty over a measly question. 

 

Besides, it didn’t really bother her.

 

“Dr. Schaffer thinks of me as a possession.” Lucy held up her whiskey bottle, flicking it with her other hand. “Like this. He thinks of people as objects to own. I think- I think he has an inkling of what love is, but doesn’t know how to reciprocate it.”

 

James nodded slowly.

 

Lucy chuckled softly.

 

“He usually gets bored of people and kills them, since they’re always terrified of him. Most test subjects ended up cremated because of that.” She gripped her bottle of whiskey tightly. 

 

“But I refused to be afraid. When I was in the facility the first time, back in ‘39, I just told myself if I stayed patient- if I waited for them to finish their experiments and to become powerful enough to escape, then I wouldn’t be there anymore. So I wasn’t particularly afraid of him, and I think that’s why he took a liking to me. But now-“

 

She tilted her head back, placing the bottle of whiskey on the rooftop ledge.

 

“-now I think he’s intrigued with how much I- I care about him, even after he tortures me. I don’t understand why I feel this way but I just do.” She admitted. “It’s not love, it isn’t. I know what that feels like and what I have with you- that, that is love, as cheesy as it sounds. Dr. Schaffer, well, he finds me amusing because of the fact I feel like that.”

 

She tilted her head to look at him.

 

James’s eyes glimmered softly with a look of empathy and some understanding.

 

“That's why he wants to kill you, James. Not because he loves me, but because he thinks I belong to him. He doesn’t want anyone touching or being near me.” Lucy bit the inside of her lip.

 

She was surprised Dr. Schaffer had only stared at James with big wide grins that held more danger than happiness. It was barely detectable, but Lucy knew that a big smile on his face was wrong.

 

James furrowed his eyebrows with confusion.

 

“He wants to kill me?” He questioned uncertainly.

 

Lucy nodded.

 

“Oh yes. Very much. I have a feeling he hasn’t done so yet because he’s planning your death in the most brutal way possible, so my reaction is satisfactory to him.” Lucy grimaced at her own words.

 

“Sorry,” she said quietly, “it’s your birthday and I’m making it dreary.”

 

James let out a small laugh, shaking his head with a smile on his face. 

 

Lucy observed him curiously, unable to not keep a small smile on her face. 

 

“Lucy,” he said as he shifted closer, “it’s my birthday, but you also matter just as much.”

 

She blinked.

 

There were times Lucy thought James was too perfect as a person, too kind, too patient. Lucy didn’t understand what he saw in her. She was useless, weak and probably mental. Okay, maybe she wasn’t as weak as she thought she was, but still, the thought was definitely there.

 

And it wasn’t something she would simply brush away. Sometimes, Lucy would become overwhelmed and she’d have a meltdown with the simple question of why hanging onto her tongue. Why did James care enough to sit next to her? To let her cry and soak his shirt while mumbling it’ll be alright? 

 

She didn’t deserve such a thing- she didn’t.

 

“James.” She spoke softly. “I don’t-“

 

James shook his head.

 

“You are. In fact, you’re more important than the date of my birth to me.” He leaned forwards, and Lucy kept her gaze on him. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you feel. But I get it. And it’s not your fault Lu. It’s not. Okay?”

 

He gently pressed his forehead against hers and she let her gaze roam his face. Their noses brushed against each other’s and she shut her eyes softly.

 

“He won’t ever kill me, Lucy.” James assured, his breath warm and smelling faintly of champagne. “I won’t let it happen. And the way you feel is something that can’t be helped.”

 

“Yeah.” Lucy breathed, their heads still close together.

 

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, and I don’t mind. But I love you for who you are and who you strive to be, no matter what you’ve experienced or done. You never dragged me into this, I dragged myself into it. So don’t think you deserve to feel guilty or ashamed.”

 

Lucy’s eyes fluttered open, meeting sincere blue eyes that watered with the intensity of his emotions. His hands gripped hers tightly.

 

“You mean that.” She stated softly and James slowly tilted his head forwards.

 

Their lips touched- soft and sweet.

 

He gently pulled away after a few seconds.

 

“I mean every word I say, Sweetheart, till the end of our days, and our world. Always.” 

 

Chapter 45: Forty Four

"There are two great days in a person's life- the day we are born and the day we discover why."

London, England

April, 1944

LUCY AWOKE BEFORE THE sun rose, the horizon a bleak blue instead of a black night. It was before the military horn rang, so she’d be alone. Her eyes flickered back and forth calculatingly before she snuck Peggy’s keys into her pocket, climbing out of the barracks and heading towards the interrogation and prisons building. She placed a hand on the door latch, unlocking it before pushing it open. She examined the room and was unsurprised to find Dr. Schaffer sitting on his cot, back leaned against the wall. He was tossing his dog tags up into the air, catching it and throwing it upwards again in a never ending loop.

 

He didn’t spare her a glance as Lucy shut the door behind her. 

 

A part of her was furious with Colonel Phillips and the higher ups for choosing to keep him alive. It wasn’t just the information he had, but also the intelligence he carried in that unfortunately impressive brain of his. She’d respectfully asked Colonel Phillips to execute the man as fast as possible and he’d simply told her he couldn’t.

 

He was too valuable.

 

Another part of her, the part she was disgusted of, was relieved. Relieved that he would be alive for a time longer and Lucy wouldn’t have to grieve him, for whatever twisted reason there was. And she supposed if he was going to die it only made sense that she was the one to kill him and she would enjoy that to an extent, but she knew revenge never satisfied anyone.

 

A long sigh escaped her lips.

 

“You’re early today.” Dr. Schaffer noted as his eyes followed his dog tags, clinking together in the air. 

 

Lucy didn’t reply, instead scrutinizing him with her gaze. He seemed to feel her eyes boring into him and he silently tilted his head, an eyebrow raised.

 

She didn’t say anything, just let the silence brew as he tried to figure out why she was here.

 

She was here because she had questions and needed answers.

 

He stared at her unblinkingly, before gripping his dog tags tightly, digging into his palms. Lucy resisted the urge to flinch as his fingertips grew white with how much pressure he was putting in his fist.

 

Then he barked a laugh.

 

She narrowed her eyes, even when her bones rattled at the sound.

 

“Today’s April 19th, isn’t it?” Dr. Schaffer questioned, before smiling softly. “Your birthday. Is that why you're here? Do you want me to praise you?”

 

Lucy scowled deeply, grabbing onto one of the chairs and pulling it back with a screech. She pooped down, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“The words, the phrases.” She started. “It’s psychological conditioning but it doesn’t work-“

 

“Want to test that?” He grinned mischievously, tone playful.

 

Lucy cleared her throat obnoxiously.

 

“Let me finish.” She snapped. “It doesn’t work when other people say it. Maybe Dr. Fenhoff saying it works. But when others speak it, the phrases are nowhere near effective. I feel swayed and nothing more. Was that intentional? Did you make it so I only listened to you? When you said it?”

 

Dr. Schaffer stared at her, his eyes lighting up with carefully hidden surprise, but Lucy caught sight of it before the look disappeared. He frowned, hopping off of his cot and leaning against the table.

 

Lucy tried not to let the height difference get to her as she leaned back, as relaxed as possible.

 

“The conditioning you experienced in Auschwitz was a first time experiment for all of us- for me. Dr. Fenhoff tried to make it as effective as possible but as I am the one who did most of the conditioning, it’s possible your mind falls more submissive to me because-“ he waved at himself with one hand “-you fear me the most whilst desiring to make me proud. Like a child. I suppose your mind clings to me.”

 

She drummed her fingers against her arms, nodding in understanding and trying her best to remain indifferent. She despised the fact he was so right when she wished he would be wrong. 

 

She exhaled.

 

“What about the fail safes in my head?” She asked cautiously. “There’s three of them, aren’t there?”

 

Dr. Schaffer’s eyes darkened as he walked around the table to sit.

 

Lucy was inwardly relieved by the action.

 

“Schmidt wanted me to give you a decommissioning trigger, so you’d kill yourself upon order.” His lips curled into something short of a snarl. “I didn’t ensure that one. However, if you’re so curious, the first failsafe is immobilization, so if someone needs to decommission you, you can only accept it, and only one who has permission can. A handler.”

 

Lucy felt a chill travel up her spine but she needed to know what Dr. Schaffer could do against her and whether or not she could uncondition herself.

 

That was her goal, anyway. 

 

To uncondition herself before Dr. Schaffer could use her on the day of his execution.

 

She’d been putting it off, but now she wasn’t so sure she had the time, even if she was a master procrastinator.

 

“The second failsafe is loss of consciousness.” He held up two fingers. “I say the words and you faint, for the lack of a better word. That’s if you try to kill non-handlers. The third failsafe, well, why don’t we test it?”

 

He held his hands out invitingly, as if he wanted a hug, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. He rolled his eyes at her caution, though it was very justified.

 

He pointed to the gun on her hip.

 

“Shoot me.” He said with lips tilted upwards, and Lucy couldn’t help but remember the dream she’d had a year ago.

 

She swatted the thought away.

 

She grabbed her pistol, ignoring the way his gaze lingered on the white thigh holster still wrapped tightly around her form-fitting pants- the one he’d given.

 

If it drew some sort of reaction from him she didn’t notice as she aimed it at his head.

 

“Now pull the trigger.” He encouraged.

 

Lucy stared at him, dumbfounded. She knew for a fact she’d only ever pointed a gun at him in dreams.

 

He waved his hands, nodding at her to do as he said. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek, letting herself fiddle the gun in her hand. She steeled her nerves, gripping the metal tightly as she kept it level with his face.

 

She tensed her finger on the trigger and pulled.

 

She expected the bullet to explode against his temple and bury itself into the wall behind him.

 

She hadn’t expected her hand to swiftly spin the gun and hold it level to his hand, barrel facing her and handle facing him. She stared down at her fingers, uncomprehending. 

 

She lifted her gun again and pulled the trigger. The gun spun in her hand just as it had before, the barrel facing her once again.

 

She did it again, and again, and again, and again, until Dr. Schaffer stepped forwards and gripped her hand tightly, frowning deeply as he realized her whole body was trembling.

 

It seemed to snap her out of it as the gun in her hand clattered to the floor.

 

“Lucy.” He said calmly. “I need you to breathe.”

 

Lucy tried to pull her hand away from him, shaking.

 

“I am!” She snapped and he placed a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder.

 

“Yes, but it’s as short as hiccups. Breath deeper, slower. Or else you’ll suffocate.” He said firmly.

 

Lucy inhaled deeply, but her breathing was still too fast, too troubled, too horrified that she couldn’t even shoot him. She swallowed the lump in her throat and choked on air. Dr. Schaffer pulled her into a tight embrace, her ear pressed against the vein in his neck that pulsed in slow, steady beats.

 

She hated it and immediately pressed her hands against his shoulders, shoving him back. But his grip was tight and Lucy faltered.

 

She focused on returning her breath to normal, and once it was, he immediately let go.

 

“You want to kill me that bad?” He asked with curiosity and Lucy spat at his feet.

 

“How do I not know about this?! I was- I was the one experiencing the conditioning for god's sake! I heard every word that you said, every regulation. I heard it. Where and when the hell did this happen?!” She burst with frustration. “The regulation in my dream didn’t even exist- this is ridiculous!”

 

Her voice grew shrill as Dr. Schaffer observed her rant.

 

He shoved his hands in his pockets, kicking the gun towards her. She stopped it from hitting her foot, staring.

 

“That’s the inability to kill any handler, although, if what you say is true, it’s very possible only my voice works.” He said with an easy smile and Lucy saw a flicker of relief in his eyes.

 

It was so faint she thought she might’ve imagined it but she realized, quickly, that he was right- everything they did to her was experimental and started with hypotheses. He might’ve been smart enough to have a gist of how strong her conditioning was but he would never truly know unless he tested it once in a while.

 

So she was tricked, and a part of her was annoyed by the fact he so easily got his way. But she was also satisfied with the unspoken knowledge he’d given her.

 

She leaned down and picked up her gun, holstering it as Dr. Schaffer sat back down.

 

“What’s made you so curious?” He questioned and Lucy raised an eyebrow.

 

“It’s a bit of a bother, ya know.” She said innocently as she tapped her head. “To have these in my head.”

 

Dr. Schaffer narrowed his eyes, opened his mouth, then shut it. He stared at her for some time before looking away.

 

“It is your birthday today, right?” He hummed. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating with your friends?”

 

He spat the word like it was poison.

 

She looked away.

 

“They don’t know.” She admitted. “Maybe Peggy does, if she saw my file. I’ve never told her my birthday. It’s a useless thing anyway.”

 

Dr. Schaffer’s lips twitched into a frown.

 

“It’s supposed to be important, isn’t it?” He said and Lucy scoffed.

 

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t born.” She replied. “If I wasn’t born my father wouldn’t have been murdered, I wouldn’t have experienced what I did, and so many people could’ve been saved. Not that it means I want to die. I want to survive since I’ve got a taste of what life is like, but, sometimes I feel the world would be better off without a threat like me.”

 

He gazed at her with a surprised look, followed by a confused furrow of his eyebrows.

 

“Why does the death of strangers matter to you?” He questioned honestly. “I understand family because people just seem to react in such a way, but I don’t quite understand the other.”

 

Lucy tried not to gaze at him with disbelief. This shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her anyway.

 

“A person lives once.” Lucy said firmly. “They have one shot to do what they want, or do what they can. Maybe rebirth exists, but even if it does, they still have this life to live.”

 

“Let me put it this way. You own a pile of pencils. Every new pencil you grab has a long time of use. Now let’s say someone came into your office and snapped some of your pencils in half. Would you be annoyed?” She explained and Dr. Schaffer blinked.

 

“Yes. But I can just replace them.” He said and Lucy smiled.

 

“What if those were the last pencils you could ever have and use? You’d be angry. Think of each pencil like a person. Something irreplaceable, something unique. Snapping the pencil is like killing someone. You get upset when things you own are destroyed. It’s the same thing with strangers. I may not know them but there are people that do, people that think of them as family. They might not be pencils to me, but they are to other people.” She frowned. “People aren’t something to own, but that’s how you think so that’s what I’ll say for now. Anyway, I think of how people they know will feel about their deaths.”

 

Dr. Schaffer hummed softly under his breath, nodding slowly. Lucy wondered if there was one cell in his body that actually cared. She decided it was as dangerous to hope so.

 

“You’ve broken a lot of pencils.” He stated factually.

 

Lucy narrowed her eyes, then threw handcuffs at his face. He caught them swiftly, standing from his seat as she walked towards the exit.

 

“So have you.” She replied coolly.

 

He cuffed his own hands, leaning them behind his head as he gazed at her.

 

She opened the door with a small huff, trying her best to figure out a solution to get rid of her conditioning without bothering anyone. 

 

If the words worked because it struck such a strong feeling of fear in her, so strong she needed to react a certain way and purposefully shut down a part of her to become lucid and freedom less, then she would just need to change what she associated the phrases with. 

 

She remembered, vaguely, the way he repeated each phrase after she was taken out of a temperature room, or during her unjustified beatings and times of isolation.

 

If that was true, then she was subconsciously retreating into herself because she was terrified of suffering the consequence of disobeying him.

 

So she needed someone to say the phrases repeatedly and replace them with softer, kinder memories. She tried not to feel guilty as she realized she’d need help from Peggy. 

 

Again.

 

“I’ve decided.” Dr. Schaffer said as they walked down the hall. “We’re celebrating your birthday.”

 

Lucy stopped, blinking several times before taking a step back from him.

 

“No.” She frowned. “No. Especially not with you. You can bother me all you want but you don’t get to touch my birthday.”

 

Dr. Schaffer tilted his head and Lucy scowled.

 

“That boyfriend of yours doesn’t know either.” He stated, rather than questioned, and Lucy clenched her hands into fists.

 

“He doesn’t, and we’re going to keep it that way.” She said curtly.

 

Lucy didn’t despise her birthday, she just didn’t find any sentiment in it when she hadn’t been able to celebrate it in years. Sure, it might’ve been a memorable day before, but it was easier for her birthday to pass like a normal day. If she didn’t count her birthdays, then she wouldn’t have to count how many years she didn’t have free will, or anything freedom related.

 

Simple.

 

Dr. Schaffer grinned playfully, and Lucy vaguely wondered if he was trying to pretend their prior conversation never happened.

 

“Okay.” He smiled lazily. “We’re still celebrating it.”

 

Lucy spun on her foot, shoving him back with one hand.

 

She was sick of the way he spoke- as if he wasn’t the reason why she didn’t enjoy her birthday, as if he wasn’t the reason why she felt better off dead. 

 

“You’re an infuriating asshole!” Her voice was short of a yell. “I don’t want to, so I’m not! I didn’t get the choice to choose before, so fuck you.” 

 

Dr. Schaffer blinked, before stepping forwards and grabbing her shoulders. Lucy flinched as he shoved her into the wall behind her, nails digging into her uniform.

 

Her mind went on alert automatically, hand dropping to the pistol attached to her hip.

 

She found her hand faltering.

 

“I think you’re taking my laziness for granted, Lucy. You have the choice to choose now because I’m allowing it.” He leaned forwards and Lucy cringed as cold dread buried itself in her stomach. “I can just as easily take that privilege away. Do you really think I’ll keep tolerating your outbursts?”

 

He was handcuffed, she thought to herself, she had the upper hand- she had to.

 

He pressed his hands down and Lucy forced herself to remain standing, so he slammed his foot into her ankle. She clasped her hands over her mouth, silencing a whimper as pain exploded across her leg, expecting a snap to follow. It didn’t, but that didn’t stop her from hitting the ground on her knees.

 

“This? This is what you’re supposed to do. I don’t need any special words for you to do anything.” He scowled. “You just do it, got it? If I want to do something, I’m going to do it. Just because I’m in cuffs and I’m being patient doesn’t change anything. Understand?”

 

Who was she kidding? He was right- it didn’t matter if he was handcuffed or considered a prisoner in this base, he had the power to do whatever he wanted if he so chose to.

 

He just didn’t.

 

Lucy felt stupid for forgetting just how much damage Dr. Schaffer could cause. He might look laid back and playful, as if nothing bothered him, but she should’ve remembered just how dangerous he could be.

 

Her hands trembled as his gaze bore into her head. She winced when he expected an answer, nodding her head hastily.

 

“Good. Stand, before someone notices you in your pathetic state.” He sneered.

 

Lucy had trouble pushing herself back onto her feet even though the pain in her leg was just a dull ache. Her knees shook like jelly as horrible ‘what if’s’ circled her mind. She dropped her gaze to his jaw, not letting herself look any bit higher. 

 

She was taking steps back now, away from her hope of recovery.

 

A laugh startled her from the thought.

 

“You revert so fast.” He smiled and Lucy couldn’t help the emotional whiplash she received. “You’re a curious little thing.”

 

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut as he ran his hand through her hair before pulling back, holding both of his hands up in surrender.

 

“I just think you should make your birthday feel like a holiday. You hate it because you spent your birthdays in cells.” He stated. “Then don’t make that day about cells and torture. Make it about that god awful Agent Carter, or Mr. Captain America, or his charming sidekick, Bucky Barnes.” 

 

His voice dropped with sarcasm.

 

“Birthdays are important.” He said firmly. “Doesn’t matter if you’re a killer, or a child, or a priest. The day you were born should always remain important. Forget that- forget how special it was, then you damn the name of your parents and their parents before them. Forget it and it might just feel a little easier to nosedive off the ceiling. Forget it and you might just want to jump off a bridge.”

 

Lucy blinked as she tried to catch up with his angry, to sarcastic, to his serious tone of voice. 

 

“Birthdays are important.” He repeated, his voice light, eyes closed with a cheerful smile. “So keep that in mind. It was probably the best day for your parents and if it wasn’t, then just make it a big ‘fuck you’ to them. Your ability to live  this long without their help would be impressive to anyone.”

 

She shook her head, not to agree or disagree, but to simply comprehend how many moods he was sorting through. She placed a hand against her temple as she cycled the last few minutes in her head.

 

A sigh escaped her lips, the terror still in her bones but not as chilling. 

 

And in some ways, his words made sense.

 

“I don’t-“ she clasped her hands tightly together “- want to celebrate it with you.”

 

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

 

She almost stumbled back when Dr. Schaffer shoved his handcuffed hands into her face.

 

“Okay.” He agreed. “Then just put me back. You took me out for a nice walk in the halls, but it’s your birthday and if you don’t want me here that’s fine. But I’m going to ask Agent Bitch about it when she comes for information.”

 

Lucy felt like crying, laughing and yelling all at the same time. He was too much, every emotion he expressed wasn’t particularly right and he was flying through them with no particular order and it was driving her just a little crazy.

 

Just a little.

 

“Okay.” She finally said, deciding to take the chance when she could. 

 

He wasn’t always as lenient in returning to his interrogation cell.

 

Dr. Schaffer’s smile never left his face as Lucy walked back towards his cell, feeling more like the prisoner than the free one. He stepped inside and she uncuffed his cuffs.

 

Lucy lingered at the doorway as he moved to sit back down on his cot.

 

“Can I. . .ask you something?” She struggled to press words out as her mind repeatedly told her it was wrong, wrong, wrong.

 

“Yes?” He said.

 

“Why does it matter to you? So much?” She asked hesitantly.

 

This was wrong, she wasn’t supposed to speak, or ask questions, or anything. And she was standing wrong, with her shoulder against the door. She was relaxed and that was wrong. Something could be behind her and she needed to check or else this was just wrong-

 

Dr. Schaffer’s smile only widened, full of teeth and marginally unpleasant.

 

“I despise the day I was born, but I will never, ever, damn my mother.” 

 

Chapter 46: Forty Five

“I never said goodbye."

London, England

February, 1945

MORE THAN A YEAR had passed since Lucy, James and the prisoners whom Steve liberated had escaped their demise. More than a few months had passed since Lucy started taking injections instead of IV drips, chemicals rewritten by Dr. Schaffer who’d been forced to work for the American Chemical Corps until the war was finished- until he was put on trial. More than a few days had passed since the Howling Commandos were given the mission to capture Dr. Zola and for once Lucy was allowed to tag along. 

 

Of course, over the last few months she’d partaken in her fair share of blowing up bases and sniping HYDRA agents alongside James who tried to make it a race. But it’d also been a few weeks since she’d been missing out on the action after risking her life to save James from a grenade. She didn’t think a torn up arm was much to worry about since she knew she’d heal in a week- she did admit it seemed severe enough that if she pushed herself she may not have an arm anymore, but that's besides the point. She’d been bedridden for days, then re-bedridden for another week because Dr. Schaffer threatened to kill the other scientists he was working with if she didn’t rest. She supposed he would know how much her body could take- but even so, she thought it was unfair Steve, James and Dum Dum both got to explode more bases and toss grenades into the back of HYDRA trucks more times than she could. 

 

Alongside the missions, she and Peggy had attempted to uncondition her with the help of trial and error. They’d try to use all the phrases at once, which did absolutely nothing, so they ended up splitting the words into groups. She got used to the sentences until she could ignore her overwhelming and fearful urges to become something less human. It was painstaking, and a grueling process that Lucy more or less hated but knew was important to complete. She was only half-way through the full set of words.

 

So Lucy might’ve been ridiculously relieved for being on a mission, without being tasked with the reconstruction of her mind, or Dr. Schaffer who she still had to drag around the base. A part of her didn’t really enjoy leaving Joseph behind but he was under Peggy’s care, so she suspected he’d be alright. 

 

Dr. Schaffer had been vehement and determined to make her not go- her last injury was horrendous and he seemed appalled by the thought of her death- but Lucy had managed to stubborn her way out of it.

 

Clearly, he had enough faith in her that she was too powerful to die, since he hadn’t used any trigger words.

 

Or maybe he just didn’t want to upset her.

 

Lucy tried not to think of the latter.

 

She did, however, acknowledge the fact their relationship had somehow fallen onto a platform of normal- she hadn’t felt terrified of him in months.

 

Wind nipped at their noses as snow fell hurriedly around them. Lucy leaned closer towards James as she watched him shiver. She concluded that the serum he’d received made his body react more severely to cold temperatures and the last thing she wanted him to get was hypothermia.

 

She activated her abilities and used them at full force. Wisps that were almost undetectable circled James and she smiled slightly when his shivering ceased and a small sigh of relief left his lips.

 

She’d gone from using her abilities sparingly, to using them whenever she ever stumbled upon an inconvenience. The injections she’d been receiving had shortened to once a month and her body had adapted incredibly. It adapted so much, Dr. Schaffer had inferred she wouldn’t need the syringes anymore, because her body was producing its own SBA, no longer synthetic but integrated into her body structure. 

 

She was relieved, terrified and confused by the prospect. Relieved because she wouldn’t need to rely on anyone, terrified because her body felt as though it was no longer her own, and confused that Dr. Schaffer was somehow happy with the thought- as if he didn’t mind the fact there would be nothing tying her to him. 

 

She tried not to dwell on the thought as James turned to look at her.

 

She grinned cheekily and James rolled his eyes light-heartedly, mouthing a soft thank you as he slowly became aware of the warmth circling his body. She hooked her arm around his and he gently grasped her hand as the team continued trekking forward.

 

“I see the edge!” Steve called back to them.

 

His pace was somewhat difficult to follow, especially since they’d been walking for hours. But nobody complained, and Lucy wouldn’t since her strength was almost on par to Steve’s anyway.

 

She wondered if James was discomforted by their pace.

 

If he was, he didn’t look very bothered.

 

They clambered onto the side of the snow covered mountain. Lucy’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes flickered across the ledge. She wasn’t particularly fond of heights, nor was she particularly afraid of them. 

 

Heights made her heartbeat quicken and her breath grow slow. It made her wonder what it would feel like to continuously fall- not fall to her death- but to fall, freely, until she wished to stop. 

 

She wondered what that would feel like.

 

She wondered what the fading adrenaline rush would feel like.

 

But she liked to keep it to that- mere wondering.

 

James swallowed thickly as he looked down, his hand tightening around hers.

 

James, on the other hand, was terrified of heights, and Lucy knew as much.

 

She squeezed his hand reassuringly as Steve came to stand beside them. 

 

“Remember when I made you ride the cyclone at Coney Island?” James said as he glanced at Steve.

 

Steve stared ahead, brows furrowed.

 

“Yeah, and I threw up?” He questioned.

 

James exhaled, breathing deeply as he adjusted the gun over his shoulder.

 

“This isn’t payback, is it?” He asked.

 

Steve shot him a lopsided smile. 

 

“Now why would I do that?” He said innocently.

 

Lucy rolled her eyes at both of them.

 

Gabe cleared his throat and the trio turned to look at him. He was bent over a box transmitter, fidgeting with the dials as he listened intently.

 

“We were right, Dr. Zola’s on the train.” He stated. “HYDRA dispatcher gave him permission to open up the throttle.”

 

He removed his headphones.

 

“Wherever they need him they must need him bad.” 

 

Lucy nodded in agreement- she was sure Schmidt was getting desperate as he continuously lost troops. Their bases had been falling feebly like domino pieces and Lucy wouldn’t have been surprised if he was starting to get worried.

 

Steve frowned and clipped his helmet over his head.

 

“Then let’s get going because they’re moving like the devil.” Monty said as he looked through his binoculars.

 

Lucy turned back to look over the edge of the mountain, eyes flickering to the zip line above them. She re-activated her abilities, examining the molecules constantly shifting through the air. She didn’t like the fact it was slightly more difficult to change and control them since the wind was fiercer then she’d anticipated.

 

“We’ve only got about a ten second window!” Steve yelled over the wind. “Miss that window, and we’re bugs on a windshield.”

 

Lucy grimaced.

 

“Thanks for the reassurance, Stevie.” She groaned and Steve rolled his eyes lightheartedly.

 

“Mind the gap.” Monty grinned.

 

Steve latched his zip line handle onto the wire, holding onto it tightly.

 

Lucy grabbed ahold of her own, followed by James and Gabe.

 

“Better get movin’ bugs!” Dum Dum waved his hand as Dernier lowered his like a train signal.

 

Steve jumped off, eyes focused on the train as the wire carried his body towards the fast moving train beneath them. 

 

Lucy clipped on next, letting herself fall off the side of the mountain as adrenaline pumped through her veins. She winced at the air blowing into her face, cold and filled with snow as her feet hung. It was different from floating while she controlled molecules- there was nothing under her feet, nothing.

 

She exhaled slowly to calm her heartbeat as she landed on top of the train with a small thud.

 

She glanced back as James landed behind her, followed by Gabe.

 

Steve carefully climbed down the side of the train, opening the door before stepping inside. 

 

Lucy clambered forwards besides James as he followed behind him, sliding inside fluently as she entered. She shut the door, and was momentarily stunned by the silence and the bleak interior. Cargo was stacked atop each other in steel shelves, strapped together.

 

James lifted his rifle, observing the room as Steve held the pistol in his hand.

 

Lucy dropped her hand to her hip, clutching the gun in her holster but keeping it there. If she didn’t need it she wouldn’t pull it. 

 

Steve stepped past the threshold into another train cart and James moved to follow when the door shut closed. 

 

Lucy was immediately alert as James slammed his hand into the glass, looking through the small glass window to look at Steve. Gunshots started to go off and James spun around, letting loose his own barrage of bullets. 

 

Lucy huffed, annoyed by the fact they had the element of surprise, raising a hand as the HYDRA agent’s bullets dissolved into metal, covered by white wisps for a split second. She heard the agent curse underneath his mask, continuing to shoot past her and towards James.

 

She spun around with narrowed eyes when blue light filtered through her sight, in the train cart Steve was in. A HYDRA agent equipped with their extremely blue and devilish weaponry was attempting to kill Steve. A bullet whizzed past her head and James stared at her with wide eyes screaming ‘move’.

 

Lucy did nothing as a bullet melted into dust behind her.

 

James ran out of bullets and quickly hid behind a stack of cargo. Lucy turned to face the agent, lips pursed.

 

“Oh, shit.” The agent breathed as he nervously pulled the trigger to his gun.

 

She glanced at James worriedly as he pulled out a pistol and started shooting once again. Bullets dusted in front of her, white fog encircling her hands as she hurriedly moved out of his line of fire.

 

She knelt behind boxes of cargo as her eyes focused on the molecules of the agent’s gun. She growled in annoyance as he moved it back and forth at an annoying pace. She shot James a look, until she realized he’d run out of bullets- again.

 

He swallowed thickly, and Lucy rushed forwards, engaging in hand to hand combat with the agent who immediately tried to slam her in the face with the barrel of his gun. 

 

She grasped it before it could cut her forehead, dodging the knife he tried to slam into her side. The white wisps spread across his body and she focused on killing his brain.

 

“Duck!” Steve shouted.

 

Lucy hadn’t realized he’d escaped the cart he was stuck in but dropped to a low squat immediately. A box of cargo slid towards the agent in front of her, who immediately jumped to the side. James shot him in the head and Lucy let out a huff as she stood up, flicking the metallic dust that’d accumulated on her uniform.

 

“I had him on the ropes.” James said as he eyed Steve and Lucy.

 

She raised an eyebrow.

 

“I know you did.” Steve grinned.

 

Lucy heard the whirring before she saw the light. 

 

“Shit!” She shouted as Steve yelled “get down!”

 

James stumbled backwards into her and she caught him before they could both tumble across the floor. Steve caught the blunt end of the blue light but it only reflected off his shield and made a gaping crater in the side of the train.

 

Wind and snow blew inside and Lucy found herself hanging onto the left edge of the exploded doorway to mountains and ice. 

 

Steve groaned on the other side of the train as he pushed himself up.

 

James moved forwards, picking up the shield. He started to shoot again and Lucy had barely enough time to throw herself back inside of the train when an electric light blue straight into James.

 

“JAMES!” Lucy shouted as she turned back to the gaping hole she’d almost fallen through.

 

She was vaguely aware of Steve picking up his shield and slamming it into the HYDRA agent as she poked her head outside. 

 

Hair whipped into her face as she pressed against the wind, white fog covering her hand. She started to whirl the air underneath James’s feet, trying to keep him afloat with the minimal amount of training she’d experienced on throwing other people with her abilities. 

 

The look of sheer terror in James’s eyes didn’t help her concentrate and her heart slammed into her chest with so much force she could barely breathe.

 

Steve stepped out, completely, frantic as he climbed right next to James and held his hand out. 

 

Lucy tried not to stare at him like he was crazy as James held onto the creaky pole barely clinging to the train. Then she felt stupid for not climbing out herself- to get closer.

 

“Grab my hand!” Steve shouted.

 

The pole creaked and groaned.

 

“No!” Steve cried. “BUCKY, NO!”

 

The white wisps disappeared from Lucy’s hands. 

 

She should’ve climbed towards him. Why didn’t she climb towards him? Would she have been able to reach him? No, Steve’s arm was definitely longer than hers and he still couldn’t reach him.

 

Steve turned back to look at her, teary eyed, clinging onto the side of the train tightly.

 

She could see how scared he was, but she couldn’t help it- how selfish she was- as she tilted her body forwards. 

 

“Lucy- Lucy- no -no- NO!” Steve screamed.

 

“I’ll survive!” She shouted.

 

And plummeted to her seeming death.

Chapter 47: Forty Six

“To shut down the ability to feel pain means you shut down all emotions, joy included. It really keeps us no safer."

Alps, Austria

February, 1945

WHEN SHE FELL, SHE didn’t turn her head back to see Steve’s reaction- he would’ve already been too small for her to see his expression. If Lucy was recalling correctly, she hadn’t dropped from a height as high as the mountainside but Dr. Schaffer had asked her to step off a cliff once, years ago, and she’d survived. So she could only hope she could find James where he fell and-

 

Lucy swallowed thickly as she caught sight of  the rushing river beneath her. She shuddered and mentally prepared herself as she penciled into the bone-chilling water that was more ice than not.

 

She felt several bones snap and opened her mouth in a silent scream as rushing water dragged her across the riverbed. Her breath grew uncontrollable and sharp as her skin cooled at a shocking pace.

 

She’d experienced it so many times she didn’t panic from her body panicking as she forced herself to swim upwards. If she couldn’t there’d be a punishment waiting for her and-

 

This was a river that’d taken James to who knows where, she needed to find him before worrying about anything else. The river current continued to drag her further across and she promptly ignored the agonizing pain ripping through her body as she forced herself to swim alongside it.

 

If James hit the water and didn’t immediately die- which she had a feeling he didn’t- then he’d most likely follow the current as well, until it came to an end.

 

Lucy kicked with what she presumed was a broken ankle as pain seared across her skin. She pushed slightly higher out of the water to catch sight of any nearest land mass connected to the river. 

 

There wasn’t anything directly in front of her but there was a thicket of trees to the side as the two mountains split apart. If she got to it she might miss James flowing through and-

 

And the water was getting shallower, she realized, as her calves scraped against painfully sharp rocks that tore her pants. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek as white hot fiery daggers plunged into her legs whilst she tried to walk across the area.

 

The current was strong, but Lucy could wade through it with her adrenaline rush. However, the feeling was slowly fading and she knew she would start to really notice  the cold. It would hit her- that she was soaked head to toe in the middle of Winter at the center of an ice-cold river, somehow not frozen. She worked her way towards the center of the river, water coming right to her thighs as she waded closer towards a drop in the land. It was terrifying to feel the current grabbing at her feet, threatening to drag her under and drown her until she died.

 

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw a familiar uniform gliding through the water, feet weakly kicking. 

 

James was alive.

 

She dove towards him and blindly grabbed onto his shoulders. She hissed in pain as she dug her feet into the riverbed, heaving as she lifted the upper half of James’s body and dragged him to the snowy shore. 

 

That was when she noticed the small trail of blood flowing alongside them. Her eyes flicked over him and ignored the horror climbing her spine as her gaze settled on his left arm. 

 

More exactly what was left of it.

 

The lower part of his arm, right beneath his elbow, was a gaping nothing, replaced by flesh and bone that’d torn unceremoniously. It looked atrocious and she was sure James might throw up if he took a look at it. 

 

Her heart grew numb as she focused on finding a way to survive. She had to ignore what she was feeling in the moment so it was easier for her to become the Soldier. This wasn’t a mission she could do with comrades because they weren’t there.

 

Verfall could feel the pain coursing through her body but her mission was more important than the wounds she knew she could fix later. She dragged James over the ground, eyes focused on the nearest tree that could give them some cover of enemy troops if they dared to venture deep between the mountains. 

 

She leaned James against the tree trunk as she placed a hand against his neck. His eyes moved to her face lazily, as if he was trying to see her but was too tired to do so. She wasn’t surprised when his eyes rolled into the back of his head. White tendrils tangled with her fingers as the energy climbed up her arm. She gently brushed her fingers against the mass amount of nerves, veins and flesh that was bleeding profusely. She started to close the wound as best she could, doing a somewhat patchy job as she tried to get the blood to stop. 

 

She pulled back and stared at the bone threatening to peak out from the flesh circling it. She pulled off the jacket of her uniform, ignorant of the frigid air as she ripped a piece of the sleeve and tied it tightly around James’s upper arm. She expected the wound to reopen, so it was best for her to be prepared. She wrapped the rest of the jacket around his shoulder to cover up the injury. She dried the wet material, turning water into warmly heated air. 

 

She checked him over for other wounds- his right leg was twisted at an awkward angle and his nose was gushing with blood. He had various cuts over his face but the rest of his body hadn’t been exposed to the rocks. She set his knee back into place, taking another patch of fabric from her uniform and holding it over his nose. 

 

Once she was sure he stopped bleeding she let herself collapse next to him, examining the tears on the lower part of her pants. She silently ripped the bottom of it off, wiping the blood off her leg while attempting to avoid the scratches. She watched as the lightest of her wounds closed at an inhuman pace. She snapped her ankle back into place with a sharp inhale, resisting the urge to release a scream. 

 

It would only be worse if she did anyway, not that there was anyone to punish her here. 

 

James inhaled and exhaled in fast breaths and she turned to look at him as his chest heaved. His eyes were still closed but his teeth were chattering like porcelain clattering against porcelain.

 

She held her hands out, palms open upwards as white wisps circled him. Air molecules buzzed as she created heat. She watched James carefully as his breathing grew normal, making sure no cold air left or entered his lips. 

 

She vaguely knew she was cold but it didn’t matter anyway- keeping James alive was.

 

All she had to do now was wait for a rescue team she hoped Steve would send. Or she would have to somehow drag James out of the forest they were in, with only a vague map engraved in her mind.

 

She found it unfair her mind chose to memorize some things and not others.

 

The sky was dark and the sun was sinking under the mountain 

peaks when James let out a choked gasp and Verfall was snapped out of her thousand yard stare.

 

His clothes were completely dry now, but she didn’t stop the warm air circling him. He drew in a sharp breath as his eyes flickered open and Verfall moved to crouch in front of him. His face was scrunched with pain and she formed lidocaine from the oxygen molecules around them letting it seep into the fabric covering the wound on his arm. She stared intently into his eyes as his knitted eyebrows slowly lowered as he caught her gaze.

 

He was still in pain, Verfall didn’t doubt it, but she’d done as much as she could to make it bearable.

 

“L-“ he grimaced “Lucy? You-uh- you jump after me?” 

 

Verfall let her stare drop to his jaw as she sat back onto the snow. She nodded curtly once.

 

A part of her had expected him to get a concussion- it was a miracle he hadn’t, really. 

 

His eyes widened.

 

“Wha-? You- you jumped?!” He tried to push himself up with both of his arms but immediately fell short.

 

Verfall pushed him back into the tree trunk gently, grabbing his hand and placing it to his side. As she did so, James’s eyes turned to what was left of his arm and completely froze. She watched him register the fact half of his arm was missing, blinking several times just to understand what he was seeing.

 

Verfall decided to remain silent as he tried to grow used to the thought of not using his left hand. A few minutes of silence passed before she lifted her head to look at him. He only looked stoic now, eyes still glued to his arm.

 

She slowly moved to the right side of him, sitting as she grabbed his hand and placed it experimentally on top of her head. 

 

She waited.

 

James looked at her with confusion, and Verfall felt her heart drop to her stomach. He seemed to get the message and slowly threaded his fingers through her hair before pausing, pulling his hand back sharply.

 

She knew James wasn’t Dr. Schaffer but she’d thought it might’ve helped him feel better- but she was always wrong. 

 

“You’re not really you, right now. . .are you?” He asked in a soft and placating voice.

 

Verfall didn’t let herself relax, instead stiffening at the quiet tone of his voice. 

 

“I-I don’t know.” She said honestly. “It’s more productive to be this way right now.”

 

She stared at the blinding white snow, and James examined her for some time before letting out a soft sigh.

 

“Alright. Okay.” He said. “Sit here, at least.”

 

She looked up as he weakly patted the snow beside him. She silently sat next to him, leaning her back against the tree. He seemed to notice the snow around him had completely melted, that the grass beneath him was dry like summer. 

 

The white energy circling him was barely visible, especially with snow falling, but his eyes caught the faint flicked, following the stretch of energy until he could no longer see it. He frowned when he realized it stopped short of Verfall, and that her arms were filled with goosebumps.

 

“You’re cold.” James stated.

 

She blinked.

 

“The Verfall Soldier can survive in subzero temperatures.” She recited before shaking her head. “My body still reacts to it this way. You’ll die if I don’t keep you warm.”

 

His brows furrowed.

 

“You can keep both of us warm.” He protested.

 

“I need to conserve as much energy as possible.” She replied. “These abilities are not infinite, James.”

 

He nodded, letting out a small huff.

 

Verfall crossed her arms over her chest and stared ahead of her. The sound of water crashing against rocks accompanied their moment of silence and James tilted his head back against the tree.

 

“You should sleep.” He muttered.

 

She frowned.

 

She turned to look at him when the sound of crunching leaves stopped her. She leaned forwards slowly, placing a hand on James’s shoulder to silently alert him of the danger. The tiredness in his eyes dissipated slightly as he listened cautiously.

 

Verfall listened to the amount of feet running, and she frowned with slight confusion. It wasn’t human, from the way it was running with four legs. She tried not to scowl as two beady eyes stared at the pair from several feet away, half hidden in the trees. 

 

Maybe she’d been worried about nothing.

 

Without warning four more pairs of beady white eyes appeared around the first.

 

Verfall slowly leaned forwards, drawing her legs back to kneel, then moving into a crouch. Her hand pressed against the snow with a soft crunch. In the dark she could see one of their furry ears twitch. She forced herself to remain still as pain flared up her ankle and across the deeper cuts on her leg. Her arms ached too, most likely from fatigue, she guessed.

 

James stayed as still as possible, eyes narrowed at the pack of wolves watching the injured pair hungrily.

 

They waited in silence, before three of the wolves sauntered forwards. Verfall immediately swung her right leg around James’s, propelling herself with her left leg and landing in a half lunge. Adrenaline spiked through her body as the three wolves stepped back. They let out low growls and yips, tails held high and almost threatening.

 

One of them lunged forwards and Verfall swiftly drew the white dagger from her thigh, slashing it at the wolves neck as his claws sank into her shoulder. She grimaced as his jaws snapped in front of her face, a white fog the only thing stopping it from biting her neck. The molecules burst into cyanide gas and the wolf hacked in her face as he sneezed. She took the moment to slam her dagger deeply between its eyes, inhaling the toxins before they could fully reach James.

 

She pulled her blade loose, her other hand dropping to grab two daggers, which she threw in front of the other wolves warningly.

 

Her eyes darkened into a glare and the wolves slowly stepped backwards before one of them howled, another sprinted away, and the other two lunged. 

 

“Shit!” James exclaimed as he tried to move.

 

Verfall let one of the wolves bite her arm, the other stopping in mid air as she tore through her heart. The wolf seized and whimpered as she stabbed the one around her arm. It let go as his companion dropped to the ground. 

 

She kicked it fiercely in the stomach as she sheathed her white blade, jumping back to James and gently scooping him in her arms. He gritted his teeth in pain as his leg jostled but he said nothing as she reached upwards to the lowest branch she could find, thick enough to keep James’s weight as she jumped up to reach it. 

 

He seemed to get the idea and hauled himself upwards with one hand, panting as he did so. He swung his legs over as he leaned back, holding his hand out towards her.

 

“Just our luck, huh?” He winced.

 

Verfall nodded, climbing up the bark without much of a problem as she found another branch that could carry her weight. She looked to James, who was now a foot away.

 

“We have to move.” She said. “Through the river, so they won’t have our scent. But you can’t and it’s more draining to keep you warm in cold water.”

 

She huffed as blood trickled down her shoulder. She formed isopropyl alcohol above her arm and let it splash against her wound. She exhaled deeply as her cuts burned, leaning her head against the bark.

 

“I can walk through the river.” James protested quietly.

 

Verfall blinked.

 

“No, you can’t.” She said bluntly. “You’ll die. We’re going to stay here for the rest of the night. If we wake up with wolves surrounding us I’ll handle it.”

 

James stared at her incredulously.

 

“You’re bleeding from three wolves.” He exclaimed. “And the fall, I mean, you have to be in pain!”

 

“Pain is irrelevant as long as I remain operational.” She frowned and James leaned forwards.

 

“Yes, it is relevant! To me it’s relevant, Lucy!” He cried and Lucy’s eyes watered.

 

“Goddamn it James I know! But I can’t let you die! If you die then- then what the hell am I supposed to do after? I can’t- I don’t know what I’m going to do, James.” She faltered. “I love you and I know it’ll hurt if I let you die.”

 

She shook her head, wiping her cheeks with her hand fiercely.

 

“I’ve gotta just shut myself off, James, it’s too much, I’m just feeling too much right now, alright? So if we want to live, you’re going to have to bear with me because I know my limits and I won’t push myself to death.” 

 

She exhaled deeply, crossing her arms over her chest as James gazed at her with a soft glimmer in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, before shutting it.

 

A few minutes passed.

 

“I love you too, Lucy. And I know it’ll hurt if you die too, so please.” He said quietly. “So don’t lug me around like a sack of potatoes. I still have a hand.”

 

He waved his right arm and Lucy bit the inside of her lip.

 

“Ah, too soon?” He grinned tiredly.

 

She stared at him.

 

“Your other hand must feel lonely.”

 

“Oh, it’ll get used to it, ya know, freezing at the bottom of a river.”

Chapter 48: Forty Seven

"False optimism sooner or later means disillusionment, anger and hopelessness.”

Alps, Austria

February, 1945

VERFALL’S HAND NEVER LEFT her gun, even if she knew using it was not an option. It would’ve been so easy for her to merely shoot the wolves and be over with it, but the sound of her gun going off would alert anyone in their vicinity. So yes, she kept her hand tightly over her gun, without the desire to pull it out and use it. Her other hand clutched tightly onto the white dagger strapped to her thigh, stained red with blood. 

 

She didn’t sleep either. One of them needed to keep watch, the warmth emanating around James would disappear if she fell asleep. He’d undoubtedly catch hypothermia and she simply couldn’t risk it. If this was any other situation James would’ve despised the idea, but he was so exhausted he just fell asleep.

 

A single wolf had appeared when the sun rose and Verfall had thrown her dagger right at it’s head. She’d made sure he was dead before jumping down and retrieving her blade. That had been the only wolf to appear, so she assumed the rest of the pack had retreated. After all, prey that was slowly becoming a predator was less ideal to hunt.

 

She had returned to her branch, crouched and waited.

 

Now she was trying to decide whether or not she should wake James or if she should continue to wait before she did anything.  

 

A small sigh escaped her lips as she observed James in silence. He looked peaceful as his chest rose and fell softly, one leg propped on the branch while the other hung off to the side. If she was being honest she didn’t want to wake him up if she had the ability to want. Which she did, technically, in this weird half-weapon half-human state she was in, but it was hard for her to remember so. 

 

She hopped off her branch and stepped towards James as his leg swayed slightly. She reached upwards and poked his uninjured leg. 

 

He jolted awake almost immediately, sitting up suddenly. He grimaced in pain as he did so and Verfall stared up at him. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, and she heard his stomach rumble quietly. 

 

“Mornin’.” He greeted as he carefully lowered himself from his branch.

 

Verfall nodded in response, more focused in making sure he wouldn’t injure himself. She grabbed his good arm and wrapped it over her shoulder as he limped. 

 

She was better off than him. Even if her broken bone still shot tendrils of pain up her leg she knew it was nothing compared to James’s. So she tried to take on as much of his weight as possible.

 

“Ya kill it?” James said as he nodded to the wolf carcass on the ground.

 

Verfall blinked, resisting the urge to raise a dubious eyebrow.

 

“Yes. Do you think you can walk?” She asked and James took an experimental step forwards, bringing her along.

 

He flinched but didn’t complain.

 

“Yeah, a bit.” He paused. “You goin’ to find a way out of here?”

 

Verfall pursed her lips.

 

“Somehow.” She muttered and James furrowed his eyebrows.

 

“This might be a dumb question but can’t you just float us up?” He said, looking up at the mountain sides.

 

Verfall had thought of that too, but the height they’d fallen from was, well, very tall. She could float most things easily by making the air molecules around the objects denser, but she’d never tried floating anything upward for more than fifty feet. If she managed to get both of them up to the mountainside then she wouldn’t have any strength to keep James warm- which she supposed wouldn’t have been very necessary if their transport team was still there. 

 

But they weren’t and it was absolutely brumous.

 

She ran a hand through her hair, sighing.

 

“My abilities will be used up if I try to, and I’m not sure I can even float something that high. Also, if we get up there we’ll be without vehicle.” She said with a wince. “I don’t know if you’ll survive in the cold. Your body’s already trying to heal itself. Percent of success is below 50. It’s advisable we don’t try that.”

 

James nodded in understanding, a small frown on his lips.

 

Verfall wondered if he thought she was stronger than she really was. 

 

James stumbled forwards as Verfall tried to keep him balanced. Her eyes flicked around the forest, on alert for potential enemies and food they could eat. Berries would be preferable, but it was just their luck that they’d landed at the bottom of the mountain during Winter. So she’d have to kill something and James would have to eat rabbit if it really came to it. 

 

Good thing she had the ability to cook things without needing a lighter.

 

James seemed to be solely focused on taking one step after the other, putting care in the way his left arm swayed. Verfall didn’t blame him for that- she would do the same if half of her limb was missing. 

 

They entered a small clearing, where two young trees had fallen, leaving pine needles and broken branches. It looked as though it’d been snapped by the wind so she decided to take their chances and settle James on top of one of the trunks. He was already breathing hard, and Verfall looked him over just in case his wounds reopened. 

 

“It’s essential I monitor your wounds.” She said as she reached for the coat she’d tied around his shoulder.

 

He drew back slightly, looking pale at the thought, then nodded curtly once. 

 

She carefully pried the fabric off and was relieved to see only a small splotch of blood, which hadn’t even managed to soak onto the outside. She held her hand beneath the open wound, turning molecules into lidocaine and making most of his surrounding tissue numb. 

 

James let out a long sigh of relief.

 

She pulled her hand back, shaped the blood on the coat into water and re-tied it around his shoulder. He shot her a weary smile and she felt her own lips twitch upwards. 

 

“So. . .” He trailed off. “Got any plans?”

 

Verfall tilted her head.

 

“Sustenance needs to be acquired.” She blinked as James stared at her like she’d grown another head.

 

For a moment she felt uncertainty burrow in her stomach, before she realized she was- she still had free will and wasn’t chained to a list of words that were okay to use. Because she was still herself, as much as she was an emotionless shell. 

 

She shook her head to get her mind working again as she exhaled. She could feel the boatload of emotions slowly trickling over the dam in her head and she let some of it over, just enough that she’d be more human- more Lucy.

 

“Uh-huh,” James nodded slowly, “I don’t know how that’s gonna work. I mean, are you just gonna leave me here and forage?”

 

Lucy felt a sliver of guilt travel up her throat. 

 

That had been exactly what she’d been planning to do. Of course, she hadn’t thought of venturing too far, since she needed him in his line of sight to keep him warm, and, well, she could see a few bushes bunched together yards away.

 

Still, she supposed that was hurtful to even try.

 

“Oh.” James realized. “You were.”

 

There was no use in lying now, not that she was going to.

 

“Well- I- Yeah. Your chance of survival is way higher if you don’t move around much.” She looked down at her feet.

 

James let loose a soft sigh.

 

“Hey, it’s okay. I ain’t offended. It just sucks that you're right.” He admitted.

 

Lucy looked up.

 

“You know, since I do know you’re enhanced, I’m a bit concerned that you aren’t healing as fast as me.” She pursed her lips.

 

If she was being honest she’d expected his broken bone to be half-healed like hers. She had also thought at least some of the tissue on his torn limb would start to grow back, but nothing had seemed to change.

 

He was healing at a normal speed and that was unsettling.

 

“I don’t know what they drugged me up with.” He snapped, his voice dark, before he paused. “Sorry. I just-“

 

“Sensitive topic.” Lucy nodded with a wave of her hand. “I know. It’s alright. I mean, I’m surprised we haven’t gotten into a fight right now. Especially with the environment we’re in- the stress and the imminent death waiting for us.”

 

James raised an eyebrow.

 

“It’s hard to get into fights with a person who doesn’t feel emotions.” He said honestly.

 

Lucy didn’t wince, instead glumly nodding in agreement because he was too right, and it’d be futile to even try and lie.

 

There was a moment of silence as Lucy leaned back with her hands on her hips, scanning the area for potential meat because the bushes she’d scanned with her abilities had no fruit attached to it whatsoever. 

 

“Are you. . .more comfortable that way?” He asked hesitantly, looking more curious than upset.

 

She gnawed on the inside of her cheek.

 

“Sometimes. It was all I ever knew for a few years so it- well, it shouldn’t feel natural- but it does. So,” she rubbed the back of her neck, “I don’t know. It’s just easier to deal with things. The major setback is the fact I’m lost without orders if there's no objective blaring in my head.”

 

James seemed to regard her sadly.

 

“And all emotions shut off except for fear and anxiety because those are two just awesome emotions that make Dr. Schaffer happy.” She sighed, a scowl forming on her face. “He’s insane. But intelligently insane.”

 

She stepped forwards and sat beside James. He placed a hand over hers, warmth unfurling across her chilled skin. He held on tight, as if she was his lifeline. Lucy didn’t hesitate in clasping her fingers tightly around his. After all, he was her lifeline.

 

James whistled as he stared ahead of them.

 

“The absolute worst of the worst, huh?” He said.

 

Lucy hummed in agreement.

 

Silence settled between them and James kicked the snow with his good foot. Lucy watched the snow fly upwards and created more snow beneath his feet so he’d have more of something to kick.

 

He blinked.

 

“Could you. . .make food?” He questioned. “Like with your abilities?”

 

Lucy responded by sitting up.

 

She felt stupid for not having realized she could, in fact, make food out of the air molecules floating in front of them and it would be edible, real, if she just made the structures exact.

 

The only problem was she didn’t have an MRE or remembered the structure of anything else to make it accurate.

 

“Let me try.” She said.

 

She held her hand in front of her and a small tornado of white wisps formed at the center of her palm. She molded the molecular structures, changing and remaking them. It almost felt like she was trying to grab something out of thin air- like a hotdog or potato.

 

Energy surged up her arm and she held steady as fragments of a familiar dried piece of flatbread started to take shape. A grin broke out across James’s face as a small piece dropped into Lucy’s lap. She picked it up and inspected it carefully, making sure her calculations had been correct. Once she was satisfied she held it out to James.

 

“It’s bread.” She said confidently. “And it’s safe.”

 

James trusted her word wholeheartedly and didn’t even give it a wary sniff as he shoved it in his mouth. He chewed and scrunched his face at the taste.

 

Lucy was worried for a moment but he ate all of it.

 

“Tastes just like the dry ass bread in the MRE’s.” He pouted and Lucy exhaled with relief.

 

She focused on the moving molecules in front of them and started to piece together MRE bread and the beef form of meat. It took several tries before she seemed to get the right shape of a bun, then a cylindrical piece of meat at the center of it. 

 

James watched her with confusion at first, and Lucy remained silent as cold sweat trickled down her forehead. After a few minutes of hard work a warm and toasted hotdog floated into Lucy’s hand.

 

“Holy shit.” James breathed. “Holy shit. Holy shit! Have I told you how much I love you?”

 

He pecked her on the cheek and Lucy’s cheeks tinted red as she handed him the delicacy. He took it and immediately split the meal in half. He handed one of the halves to her but she abstained.

 

“You’re going to need that more than me, love.” She insisted and James pursed his lips.

 

“Lu-“ he started and she shook her head.

 

“Go on, James, it’s getting cold.” She tilted her head at the split pieces.

 

James stared at her as if to say the conversation wasn’t over, even as he took a bite of his food and practically melted. He seemed to forget what he’d been proposing as he ate the whole hotdog in just a few bites. 

 

Lucy knew it was nowhere near enough to satiate his hunger but she couldn’t risk making more food. She had to be cautious and use the bare minimum of her abilities, which unfortunately wasn’t very bare at all since she was keeping James in a bubble of warmth, constantly maneuvering the molecules around him and never shutting her abilities off.

 

She suspected she could only keep him warm for a few more days, even though she could resist sleep for a little more than a week.

 

“I didn’t think you could actually do that.” James said honestly. 

 

Lucy looked at him sheepishly.

 

“I don’t usually do that because I, well, I kinda forget I can.” She admitted. “Since I usually use my abilities for combat, I forget I can do other things as well.”

 

James blinked, scratching the side of his head.

 

“Huh. I never realized you could forget that.” He paused. “Actually, I do. Did you know Steve ran into a door because he forgot he was too tall to fit through it?”

 

A bubble of laughter left Lucy’s lips as she grinned from ear to ear.

 

“Seriously? I can’t believe I missed that.” She groaned and James smiled with amusement.

 

Lucy could imagine it- Steve sprinting into a door and holding his nose even though the door would’ve probably broken before his nose did. 

 

“Do you think Steve’ll come?” James suddenly questioned and Lucy blinked.

 

Her brows furrowed.

 

“I just- I guess I kind of assumed he would.” Worry settled in her stomach. “I told him I’d survive, which means he’d look for us, don’t you think? And the others. Besides, you’re his brother. He wouldn’t just. . .not.”

 

James tilted his head as he leaned his chin against his palm.

 

“I know. I mean. I don’t doubt he would but. . .do you think Colonel Phillips will believe we’re still alive? Do you think he’ll even let Steve?” He grimaced. “Or- or do you think maybe they just won’t come?”

 

Lucy paused.

 

“You mean, do you think we’re valuable enough that they’ll spend their time looking for us instead of destroying HYDRA?” She exhaled with horrible realization.

 

“Yeah.” James agreed.

 

She ran a hand through her hair as she squeezed his hand tightly.

 

“I don’t-“ she swallowed thickly “-I don’t know. All I know is we aren’t dying here.”

 

James gazed at her for a long time.

 

She bit the inside of her lip as he gently moved his arm around her shoulder.

 

“We aren’t dying.” She repeated.

 

Lucy wished she could believe herself.

Chapter 49: Forty Eight

"Love is a double-edged sword.”

Alps, Austria

March, 1945

THREE DAYS PASSED BEFORE Lucy faltered in keeping the warmth around James forever continuous. Four days passed before she failed to keep him warm during the day. Five days passed before she ran out of enough stamina to create food. Six days passed before Lucy found herself inexplicably tired, dragging her feet across the snow as she held tightly to James, trying to keep him warm with her own body heat, rather than the abilities she’d been relying on.

 

She was surprised he wasn’t sick yet- which also meant some part of his serum made him less prone to illnesses. A shaky breath escaped her lips and she struggled to keep herself moving as she continued travelling forwards. 

 

James noticed almost immediately, walking towards a path of trees as he gently lowered both of them to sit. Lucy winced as she sat beside him.

 

They’d made quite a lot of progress: the river was no longer near enough that they could hear it, and the mountainside they’d fallen off of was no longer visible although the mountain itself was still rather large. She liked to think they were getting somewhere, closer to something, but her optimism wasn’t as strong as James’s- she felt groundingly hopeless.

 

“You okay?” James asked gently and Lucy felt like she should be asking him that.

 

Ever since her abilities became exhausting to use, she hadn’t been able to give him any lidocaine to relieve the pain on his shoulder. He was in pain, she knew so, and she hated the fact she could do nothing about it.

 

“F-fine.” She stuttered.

 

She blinked in surprise at her response, confused by the sudden stutter she’d developed even though she wasn’t cold. Okay, maybe she felt a little chilled, but she wasn’t anywhere near teeth-chattering cold.

 

James’s brows furrowed with concern. He reached forwards and placed one of his cold hands on her forehead. He drew his hand back, looking perplexed.

 

“Your forehead’s warm, like really warm.” He frowned.

 

Lucy opened her mouth to reply when she doubled over with sudden pain. It exploded across her forehead and reached her eyes. She landed on the ground in a heap, snow clinging onto her clothes as fiery electric pain danced across her eyelids and pierced through her head.

 

James was next to her in an instant, placing one hand on her shoulder.

 

“Lucy?!” He exclaimed as a low whimper escaped her throat.

 

It felt reminiscent to the pain she’d felt when she’d used her abilities back in Brooklyn, when she’d bled profusely through her nose. A part of her hoped it wasn’t the lack of SBA that was causing her a deadly migraine. If what Dr. Schaffer said was true, and her body was producing its own SBA, than it merely meant she’d used all of it, and her body was producing it at a much slower rate than she’d thought.

 

It was like exercising without having the muscle, energy or fat to use.

 

Either way, she had overexerted herself, and now she was paying the price. She just wished it wouldn’t worry James so much, as he gently moved her head into his lap. 

 

“Come on, sweetheart, ya gotta breathe for me.” He said with a sliver of desperation in his tone.

 

Lucy took a second to realize she wasn’t actively breathing and immediately tried to move her mouth. Her whole body shuddered and her forehead exploded with even more pain, as if her brain was slamming into the sides of her skull with only one goal in mind: getting out. 

 

James gently moved her hair out of her face.

 

“There you go, darlin’.” He sighed with relief as she finally started to inhale air. “You’re alright.”

 

Lucy’s eyes threatened to fall shut as her exhaustion finally caught up with her. She needed to sleep, she needed time to recuperate, time to regenerate.

 

James shivered as a gust of cold wind blew towards them. 

 

Lucy forced herself to sit as she pulled James into a tight hug. She didn’t have time to rest because she needed to keep James safe. She needed to keep him safe and that was more important than getting sleep. 

 

Or maybe it wasn’t.

 

No it was.

 

Her brain felt muddled as she clutched onto James as gently but firmly as possible.

 

“Lu- you’ve gotta-. .  .up. . .need. . .get-“

 

Everything went dark before she could comprehend it did. No black dots danced across her eyes, no curtain of darkness fell upon her face. Everything just seemed to be snapped into pitch black nothingness- a void- where all she had to do was float. A cold void, but a void where she escaped her tiredness, her physical pain. 

 

It was a comfortable void she never wanted to let go of. A place she wanted to remain for a long time. It was paradise, and she stayed, floating in a place of black.

 

She stayed, and stayed, until she realized she’d fainted. She’d lost consciousness in James’s arms- oh. She’d fallen unconscious in James’s arms and she had absolutely no idea how much time had passed because she’d continued to sleep.

 

And suddenly she wanted out of the peace- out of the sanctuary she’d been floating in because James must be freezing, or tired, or hungry, and she needed to help him or do something or be of use.

 

She battled her mind, screamed at herself to wake up, wake up- but the darkness replied with silence. So Lucy tried to move, to physically fight the black emptiness around her but there was nothing she could hit, not that she could even move in the first place.

 

She was stuck.

 

Her body had shut down from exhaustion and now she was asleep- a mandatory order of desperation from her body, which was too exhausted to move another muscle without some sort of rest.

 

Wake up, she told herself, but nothing changed.

 

How long has it been- minutes, hours, even days?

 

Was her void-like dream just longer than it seemed?

 

Was she even asleep?

 

Had she died?

 

She tried to move her body, forcing herself to twitch, to shake, to do something. She felt her fingers twitch, then another, and another, before she tried to lift her eyelids.

 

Failure.

 

So she tried again, prying her too heavy eyelids so she could escape the void and look up at James, to see he was still safe. 

 

She felt something- a hand- pull her close to a block of flesh.

 

She could hear voices now- voices, plural.

 

That couldn’t be right.

 

That wasn’t-

 

Lucy’s eyes fluttered open and she was immediately blinded by light- not from the snow or sun- but just normal soft light that bled around James who was holding tightly to her, almost hunched over in a protective manner.

 

Right, she remembered tiredly, someone was here with them.

 

It took her a moment to realize James was speaking to their visitor. And he sounded vehement, deadly, angered.

 

A voice replied to him, laced with amusement but sincere, and Lucy felt relief flood every part of her being. The voice was familiar, too familiar.

 

Terror and confusion settled in.

 

A groan of pain escaped her lips as she tried to sit up. Her vision blurred and she felt like the world was spinning as her head throbbed with barely bearable pain.

 

James’s attention immediately dropped to her and he gently placed his hand around the side of her head.

 

“Lucy, doll, hey.” James greeted softly, worry creasing his features. “You- you were out. Completely blacked out for hours.”

 

Lucy’s eyes flicked across his face and she could see him shivering. 

 

James suddenly looked up and scooted backwards while pulling Lucy closer to his chest.

 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” He sneered and Lucy took the time to carefully maneuver her head, turning to the side.

 

She registered the fact Dr. Schaffer was crouched a few feet away from them, hands raised in surrender. The next thing she noticed was the fact he wasn’t a hallucination, because he was dressed in a soldier’s uniform- an American one- but it was so similar to what he wore in that- that camp. 

 

Lucy’s throat closed up with fear and she reached upwards, grabbing onto James’s arm tightly as she pulled herself to sit.

 

He pressed his arm against her side, holding her behind him protectively. She kept her eyes on the snow in front of them, hands trembling from pain and terror.

 

“Look,” Dr. Schaffer smiled like he did when he was frustrated, which was rare, “Captain America is a Captain. Colonel Phillips wouldn’t allow him to rescue the two of you. Rogers asked Agent Bit- Carter for help but there’s only so much an agent can do.”

 

His eyes trailed to Lucy, and she winced.

 

“So they both came to me, asking for help, since I was a Colonel in the Wehrmacht, which Agent Carter knew of. I convinced my division supervisor to send me to a USSR base for experimenting.” He scowled. “Rogers threatened to kill me if I did anything out of line. Agent Carter did the same. There are literal Soviet troops I came with. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

 

James’s grip on her didn’t loosen, distrustful eyes scanning the man in front of them. 

 

Lucy vaguely supposed she shouldn’t be afraid of him just because he looked like the terrifying person she’d been around in Auschwitz. She hadn’t been fearful of him for such a long time there was no reason for her to be.

 

She met Dr. Schaffer’s eyes and his lips pressed into a thin line of both concern and disappointment. She exhaled, slowly scooting out from behind James cautiously.

 

James’s hand never left her arm as he observed her carefully.

 

“You really decided to jump off of a moving train?” Dr. Schaffer questioned.

 

Lucy huffed, massaging her temples.

 

“You pushed me off of a cliff once.” She retorted and James stiffened.

 

She looked up at him and he frowned, genuine anger flickering between his eyes. Lucy had barely enough energy to keep her head up so she leaned against James’s good arm as she gazed at Dr. Schaffer.

 

“Yes. A twenty foot cliff.” He replied dully. “You landed in a crouch and a roll. You had a broken wrist, but you had doctor’s to take care of it. You’re in the middle of a freezing mountain, Ver. A mountain!” 

 

His voice was laced with anger and Lucy chewed on the inside of her lip before scoffing.

 

“Not much of a difference to me.” She snapped.

 

Dr. Schaffer crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“It is to me. Barnes said you collapsed. What did you do?” He questioned, nodding to her weak form.

 

Lucy winced as a headache travelled through her head. 

 

“I used my abilities for four days straight.” She confessed. “Then a little more than that.”

 

Dr. Schaffer’s eyelid twitched.

 

He examined her as he tried to think of why the hell she’d do something so idiotic until it hit him.

 

“For him.” He glared at James. “Because he’s wounded-“

 

“And it’s cold.” Lucy huffed.

 

James looked between them as they conversed, his face contorting with concern and protectiveness, accompanied by determination. 

 

Lucy felt like he was trying to be a barrier between the pair and she had half the mind to appreciate him.

 

There was rustling behind Dr. Schaffer and the pair stiffened as several Soviet soldiers came out from the woods, some armed, and four carrying two stretchers. 

 

James eyed the troops and a flicker of recognition passed his face. Lucy turned to observe them and supposed he must’ve gone on a joint mission with them, after all, they were fighting the war on the same side. He seemed to relax slightly then, as two of the Soviets set down their stretcher. James moved to scoop her up but the soldier shook his head.

 

“Sergeant Barnes, you first comrade.” He said slowly, as if he was translating russian to english in his head.

 

James frowned slightly but Lucy pushed him with her hand and he forced himself to move onto the stretcher.

 

“Sergeant Petrov.” He said with a grimace. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

 

Lucy watched as one of the soldier’s- Sergeant Petrov- tried to understand what he just said.

 

“Неудобства.”

 

Inconvenience.

 

Lucy translated and Sergeant Petrov glanced at her with pleasant surprise, nodding his head in thanks as he lifted the stretcher with James on it. A cotton blanket was draped over him as Dr. Schaffer stepped to the left of Lucy.

 

He offered her his arm and she begrudgingly grabbed onto him as she pulled herself onto her feet, wobbly but able. The two other soldier’s with the stretcher remained unmoving and Lucy felt something uneasy settle in the base of her stomach.

 

She knew Dr. Schaffer wasn’t lying about Steve asking him for help because there was no other way Dr. Schaffer could possibly move from one base to another without recommendation.

 

But. . .something wasn’t right.

 

She didn’t notice why until one of the soldier’s pressed a well-hidden needle in the side of James’s neck. 

 

He didn’t seem to feel it at all as he reached up with one hand as if to slap a bug off his neck- which made more sense- before his arm hung over the stretcher, limp.

 

Lucy moved to sprint forwards, even if she knew she would collapse, but Dr. Schaffer gripped her arm painfully tight, his other hand slamming against her mouth as she tried to shout.

 

“Easy, Ver.” He tilted his head with a grin. “He’s just asleep.”

 

Lucy stared up at him with unconcealed anger as the Soviet soldier’s started walking away from the pair.

 

“Oh please, I told them I would try to find the two of you. But there’s a chance both of you would already be dead. They have no choice but to believe me if I tell them you and that idiot is dead.” He shrugged, though his grip remained firm. “Besides, the Soviet’s know you’re both enhanced. They’re not just going to give you away like that.”

 

He removed his hand from her lips and her lips curled onto a snarl.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She sneered and Dr. Schaffer looked taken aback.

 

“Oh, Ver, what the hell am I doing?” He repeated. “No, no, no, what the hell are you doing?”

 

Dr. Schaffer kicked her hard in her throbbing leg, once broken. She dropped to her knees almost immediately as a gasp of pain left her lips. 

 

His hands held tight to her shoulder as he leaned over her.

 

“Hands behind your back.” He ordered and Lucy felt her hands fidget but she forced them to remain by her sides.

 

He sighed with agitation and slammed his heel into the center of her hand. Something close to an animalistic whimper left her lips as he stared down at her.

 

“Hands. Behind. Your back.” He repeated slowly, removing his foot.

 

Lucy gritted her teeth and she looked up at him with a defiant glare, head spinning as she did so.

 

“You know what is best, Ver.” He replied to her expression.

 

The familiar phrase shocked her like a strike of lightning. Memories of overwhelming pain exploded across her mind. 

 

But, at the same time, memories of Peggy travelled across her mind. Memories of Peggy sneaking her beer, memories of Peggy trying to drag her out to a bar nearby their base, memories of Peggy soaked from head to toe because she’d recommended they started a prank war.

 

Even though her joints locked in place she was still herself, as much as she could be.

 

“I do, you selfish asshole.” She retorted.

 

A look close to surprise travelled between his eyes.

 

Lucy expected him to hit her.

 

His hands left her shoulders and he crouched to her height instead. He placed his fingers against her neck, his thumb caressing her cheek as his index finger tucked under her ear.

 

She froze as he tilted her head up.

 

She caught his gaze: fond eyes.

 

“Ver, I need you to listen to me.” He said affectionately. “Everything I do is for you. I order you to do things because you shouldn’t trust yourself. You’re dangerous, but you don’t want to hurt people, right? Let me control it for you. It’ll be okay. I promise. I just need you to listen.”

 

Lucy tried to look away from him.

 

He threaded his other hand through her hair and she felt herself relax instinctively. 

 

“I do this to keep you safe, Ver.” He moved his hand away from her face as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “You know that, don’t you? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

 

He pulled her into a hug, tucking her head against his neck as he continued to untangle her hair with his fingers.

 

They were lies, Lucy tried to think, but her thoughts were murky and muddled.

 

“As long as I’m here I can keep you safe. You know that. So let me help you. Let me help.” He sounded so desperate she wanted to believe him.

 

No- she was believing him.

 

Lu- Ver- Luc- Verfall shook her head against his shoulder, feeling disoriented as she clutched onto him with both hands, relieved he was here, that he could fix everything for her like he always did.

 

“M-Maintenance?” She muttered. 

 

“Mmhmm.” Dr. Schaffer nodded.

 

“What- what about James?” She stammered anxiously and Dr. Schaffer’s grip on her hair stiffened for a moment.

 

She froze, her body tensing as she waited for his reaction.

 

“James. . .James is going to be hurt-“ he said slowly “- if you do something wrong. But you won’t, will you? I won’t need to hurt James for you to listen, do I?”

 

Verfall shook her head fiercely as she clutched onto him even tighter.

 

She was doing what was right, and what she was supposed to do. She was listening and as long as she listened she wouldn’t be in pain and she wouldn’t be punished- no- James wouldn’t be punished. 

 

They wouldn’t hurt James.

 

If she was good they wouldn’t hurt him.

 

James needed to be kept safe.

 

James was important.

 

James was her mission.

 

“No.” 

 

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

 

“You don’t need to.”

Chapter 50: Forty Nine

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

Dnipro Raion, Ukraine.

March, 1945

SHE DIDN’T KNOW WHEN she’d fallen asleep. Dr. Schaffer had picked her up, and then she’d shut her eyes. And she’d awoken in a familiar four-walled room with nothing but a small light flickering at the center of the ceiling. Well, maybe that wasn’t all there was. She could see a person nestled in the corner of the room, closest to the door and unconscious. It took Lucy a second to realize it was James. It took her another few seconds to stand and scamper over towards him to check his wounds. He looked just as he had before she’d fallen asleep.

 

She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers as she went to activate her abilities. She came to a stop as she noticed thin golden bracelets adorning each of her wrists. They were different from the thicker silver bands she was used to. It looked like jewelry. In fact, if she didn’t know any better she would’ve thought it was jewelry. She stared, blinking at it a few times before she reached up to her neck, feeling the same sliver of metal against her skin.

 

That was different too. 

 

Lucy hesitantly hooked her finger around the bracelet, giving it an experimental tug. Her regret was immediate as electricity exploded across her skin, burning across her muscles and seeping into her bones. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her fists so tight she could feel blood trickling down her palms. When the pain passed and she could finally move she sat back, leaning against the wall besides James. 

 

She wiped the blood off her palms, unwrapping the cloth she’d tied around James’s shoulder. She pulled it off and was relieved to see the wound hadn’t reopened. She put the cloth back over his shoulder, moving what was left of his limb carefully.

 

James’s eyes fluttered open then, waking up with a small yawn escaping his lips.

 

Lucy pulled back slightly, and he stared at her. 

 

She drew her hands back, keeping his stare, until she forced herself onto her knees, clasping her hands behind her back as guilt tugged her to the floor. She felt James shift, but Lucy only shook.

 

“Lu-“ 

 

“‘M sorry, James.” She blurted as she ducked her head. “I’m so sorry. I- I thought- Dr. Schaffer- I thought the Russian’s- they would help- they said- because-and you knew some of them- they said-“

 

She stumbled over her words, unable to get a complete sentence to leave her lips as her shoulders shook, tears threatening to spill over.

 

She felt James’s uninjured hand land gently on the side of her arm.

 

“Hey.” He said softly. “Don’t- don’t sit like that. Okay? And don’t apologize. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong. I- I was starting to believe him too. His story was plausible and the soldiers, I mean, I worked with two of them on a mission with the Howlies.”

 

He let his hand fall limply to his side and Lucy carefully unfolded her legs. She gazed at James before moving to sit beside him. He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.

 

“What’d the bastard say, anyway?” He asked, pausing. “Do you have any thoughts on where we are?”

 

Lucy winced.

 

She could still feel Dr. Schaffer’s feathery touch, the way his hands could be so gentle and caring.

 

“I think we’re in a Soviet base.” She answered first, before hesitating.

 

“He- He didn’t lie about Steve- a-and Peggy. He didn’t lie about that. He was helping them, but he said- he said if he simply told them we died they would have to believe him since he always knows my limits, at the very least.” 

 

Her hands trembled and James held her palm tightly. She felt her breathing grow even.

 

“And- I- I- god I’m sorry, James. This I really do have to be sorry about.” She wiped her eyes. “He tried to order me around. He tried to use my trigger phrases. He tried to, but it didn’t work. I- he just- he ran his hand through my hair and held me like I was a-a piece of glass or something and I just- I melted.”

 

She sniffled with frustration.

 

“It doesn’t make sense.” Her voice trembled. “I love you so damn much, so much James. You hold me when I need it, you’re careful, you treat me with so much tenderness and I don’t understand why I’m still like this! I know I’m not alone. That I got you and Steve and Peggy, Dum Dum, occasionally Howard.”

 

James tilted his body towards her, wiping her wet cheeks with one hand.

 

“But one kind gesture from him and I just- I shut down. I entrust everything to him because he can fix me. He can fix me by turning me into a freedomless weapon.” She looked down. “And deep down I know I want that- I don’t want choices, or decisions. I want orders.”

 

James hummed softly.

 

“I’m not going to say I know how that feels, because I don’t. But I do know that sometimes you’re comfortable with being the weapon, and nothing else. I do know that it’s only because you were forced to live like this that you believe it’s what you want. I know you forced yourself to become what they wanted so you could survive. That’s not your fault. You experience and believe these things because everyone around you is telling you.” James paused, eyes flickering across the walls. “I’m going to be honest, I have absolutely no idea if you’re going to suffer like that again. But I’ll be here this time. And that has to change something.”

 

Lucy pressed into his side, holding onto him tightly as if he’d disappeared. Maybe things would be different this time- if they decided to keep James alive.

 

She tried not to think of that.

 

They sat there like that, just in each other’s presence.

 

Waiting.

 

When the door to the cell started to unlock Lucy carefully pulled away from James’s side and jumped into a crouch as she shielded James from the doorway’s line of sight. The lock clicked, several of them, she realized, and Lucy’s eyes narrowed cautiously as the door pushed open.

 

Dr. Schaffer stepped inside with a steeled expression, followed by a man outfitted in a Colonel’s uniform, further followed by a group of soldiers, armed to the teeth.

 

Lucy didn’t move from her position, hand out and steady as she counted the amount of weapons on each person.

 

“Ver.” Dr. Schaffer stepped closer to her. “You know how you should behave.”

 

Lucy stared at him, feeling a twist of hurt inside her chest.

 

“Was any of it real?” She replied quietly. “The calm, the sincerity, the lack of violence.”

 

Dr. Schaffer shoved his hands into his pockets. His lips twitched upwards into a small smile.

 

“It was just a game. And it was fun while it lasted, but my desires no longer align with the US military’s. I’m sure that phrase is familiar to you.” He held a hand out. “Don’t be difficult, Ver. You know it never ends well.”

 

Lucy kept his gaze.

 

“Move aside.” Dr. Schaffer ordered. “Sergeant Barnes will be taken for blood tests.”

 

It took less than a second for Lucy to refuse, remaining just as still as before. Dr. Schaffer looks almost sympathetic before he pulls a small circular device from his pocket, placed innocently at the center of his palm. 

 

Lucy tilts her head with genuine curiosity. 

 

Then her mind put two and two together and she immediately hovered her hands above the cuffs on both sides of her wrists. She opened her mouth- maybe to apologize or beg or to warn James- but Dr. Schaffer pressed his thumb against the circle and electric fire erupts across her body, experiencing pain she’d never thought could exist. Piercing needles, heated to a thousand degrees stabbed through her body, changing size in never ending waves of excruciating pain.

 

James kneeled beside her, trying to pull her in his lap. She felt her body grow stiff and immovable- paralyzed. She couldn’t even scream, her mouth screwed shut as silent tears trailed down her cheeks.

 

“Stop.” 

 

She almost didn’t catch the word, James’s voice too quiet, his gaze more foggy than not, as if he was wondering what else Dr. Schaffer was capable of.

 

He lifted his head.

 

“Stop.” He repeated, louder. “Stop. Stop! Stop it!”

 

Dr. Schaffer’s lips curled with glee as he soaked in James’s desperate pleas, terrified eyes.

 

“Stop! I’ll go, alright?! Just stop!” He shouted and Dr. Schaffer lifted his finger from the metallic circle.

 

When the pain stopped emitting from the gold around her wrists and her neck, she failed to stop her body from scrambling backwards, away from the door, to the farthest corner. 

 

James looked surprised by the motion.

 

She kneeled, curled into herself, eyes wide with an uncontained animalistic fear. She clasped her hands behind her back, bowing forwards with a mantra of apologies escaping her lips. 

 

She tried to shut her mouth, tried to be less pitiful, tried to notice James’s gaze, empty of anger.

 

And that’s the one thing she did, the one thing she noticed. 

 

The apologies stopped, Dr. Schaffer was no longer grinning, her eyes were focused, narrowed onto the blank look on James’s face. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t happy, he just seemed like he was registering this- registering what she’d experienced at a deeper level. He’d seen her getting beaten, he’d seen her doing as Dr. Schaffer had asked, but he hadn’t seen this, this pitiful, fearful, shaking Lucy who couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t stop apologizing, couldn’t stop cowering away. Or maybe he had seen it, but was too distracted to really stare at her, to really observe her.

 

And then, James was fuming, rageful, anger exploding from within his chest and appearing through his eyes.

 

“You care about her, don’t you?” James said. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

 

His tone was cold, laced with venom, bitterness weaved through each syllable. 

 

He didn’t sneer, didn’t snarl, didn’t give Dr. Schaffer the satisfaction, nor the soldier’s around them and the nameless Colonel standing with inhumane curiosity.

 

He just sat there, and Lucy realized how ridiculous he looked, with half his limb gone, his eyes two blades stabbing into Dr. Schaffer’s head. He was defenseless, vulnerable- it made no sense but- he was brave. His strength in that moment was so fathomable, so tangible, that Lucy felt numb.

 

James was stronger than her in so many ways. 

 

Maybe she’d been like him before. If she was, she couldn’t remember it, even with her phenomenal memory.

 

“I take care of my things the way I want.” Dr. Schaffer said firmly. 

 

James’s gaze did not change and Dr. Schaffer tilted his head to the side, lips curled in a furious grin. 

 

He waved his hand and two soldiers stepped forward. Lucy noticed the way James’s body tensed, the way his muscles quivered as he stared with a mixture of anger and betrayal. 

 

The soldier’s weren’t completely heartless.They noticed James’s stare- they looked away and ignored their morals as they did what their superior asked of them.

 

James is forced to his feet and Lucy knows he’s afraid, knows it’s there, somewhere, but he stands strong.

 

Lucy’s heart wrenched inside of her chest and she pushed herself forward, limbs trembling and shaking with exhaustion. Dr. Schaffer’s eyes were on her in less than a second and he held the circular device towards her with an angry gleam in his eyes.

 

James noticed instantly, and Lucy’s eyes flicked to him as he started to panic.

 

“Don’t. Move.” Dr. Schaffer spoke with no inflection to his tone.

 

Lucy stopped, hopeless eyes meeting James’s. His lips twitched upwards, reassuring, even as the soldier’s pulled him away. 

 

The Colonel’s gaze dropped to her.

 

“Подготовьте ее к криостазу

 

Prepare her for cryo.

 

He said and Lucy vaguely knew cryo- cryo- was an experimental project that hadn’t been used a single time.

 

She remembered them- Dr. Zola and Dr. Schaffer- talk about it time and time again. 

 

“Κонечно, полковник Волков

 

My pleasure, Colonel Volkov.

 

Dr. Schaffer smiled pleasantly and the Colonel shut the door with a clang.

 

He turned to Lucy, her eyes still focused on the door James disappeared through. James, who meant more than her own life- who meant everything to her.

 

Dr. Schaffer stepped into her line of sight and Lucy remembered. Remembered the way she was supposed to act. Remembered the words she was allowed to use when she spoke. Remembered the rules held in place by steel nails.

 

Lucy needed to become something she wasn’t.

 

No.

 

That was wrong.

 

Lucy was Verfall, in every sense of the word. Lucy was the concept of Verfall. Verfall was her, with half her mind shut off for desired responses. Lucy could shut herself off if she wanted. She could force herself to be this- this thing, this weapon.

 

It would be easy.

 

But James. . .

 

She made her decision then, by clambering backwards and pressing herself against the wall as Dr. Schaffer drew closer.

 

His polished shoe padded against the ground, stopping in place with one terrifying clack.

 

His hand snapped forwards and Lucy didn’t sit there and take it. She ducked, jumping to the otherside of the cell. A disbelieving laugh escaped his lips and Lucy pressed herself into a low crouch as she kept her eyes on him. 

 

He seemed to contemplate something before shrugging.

 

He moved to reach her again and she ducked away. Their short game lasted ten minutes before he got bored and flipped the circular object in his hand.

 

Lucy stared at it, had half the second to register it was there before electricity burst from her neck and hands, travelling down to her chest, seeping through her torso and unfurling towards the very tips of her toes. She collapsed, her body unresponsive as she doubled-over.

 

Dr. Schaffer was by her side in an instant, device gone as he helped her sit up, leaning her against the cold cement wall. He grabbed her chin gently and tilted her head back. He brushed his fingers against the golden band, giving it a flick. He stared at her to see if she’d react.

 

No pain bloomed and Dr. Schaffer pulled back, rubbing the bracelets on her wrist, the thin gold pieces doing nothing. He spun it, flicked it, let it drop down until it got stuck, but nothing happened.

 

He looked pleased with his work, but his eyes darkened when they reached Lucy’s face.

 

He drew his hand back and Lucy flinched violently, eyes squeezing shut as she waited for the hit to come. 

 

When it didn’t, she hesitantly pried one eye open. He was staring at her, observing her carefully.

 

“A cryostasis chamber is being given to you.” He said in an explanatory tone. “Before procedure begins you are to replenish your energy, shower and change into combat gear. Procedure includes a removal of all waste products within your digestive system.”

 

His hand rested on her shoulder.

 

“You are expected to drink fluid used to preserve your body, then step into the Chamber without a fuss, nor damage the equipment you are to be kept in. James will prove to be difficult, so he will be placed under cryo in a few days.”

 

Lucy swallowed thickly out of uncertainty as Dr. Schaffer heaved a sigh, sitting back.

 

“I will not reinforce your code words.” He said, his voice filled with finality. “I find no need for them when James is here. The words are. . .useful to an extent. I don’t feel like torturing you today either, so. . .” He smiled. “Maybe another time.”

 

He ruffled her hair and Lucy trembled at the promise.

 

He stood to his full height and beckoned her to stand. Knees like branches swaying in the wind clacked together as she forced her shaking body to her feet. 

 

Dr. Schaffer regarded her with disgust.

 

“Chin up.” He ordered.

 

Lucy’s stance changed immediately. Her chin was perfectly horizontal to the ground, her chest rising and falling at a perfect rate. Her back was as straight as a board as her hands remained stiffly by her sides.

 

Dr. Schaffer nodded in approval and Lucy- Lucy forced the bloom of happiness that tried to take over her stomach. She forced it down until it was nothing but a small flicker. She would stomp that light out soon.

 

They exited the cell, and Lucy could see him play with the circular disk in his pocket. She kept her eyes forward and said nothing as they entered a long hallway, empty of the soldiers she thought there would be. She passed glass windows revealing empty rooms, before entering a large warehouse building that had a front of different expensive car models. 

 

Behind the cars, however, were stacks of weaponry, hordes of guns, grenades, missiles even, and Lucy swallowed the horror threatening to climb up her throat.

 

They took a swift left towards another, wider room, with no windows and a single door. Dr. Schaffer swung it open with barely no effort.

 

Everything in Lucy told her to turn around and run towards James.

 

Dr. Schaffer must’ve noticed the look- he always did.

 

“If you even think about running, I will personally take you to him, then stab him so you can watch him bleed.” He threatened lowly.

 

Lucy ducked her head and followed behind him in resigned silence. The room was blindingly white- and sterile- reeking of chemicals. There were two silver medical tables at the center of the room, sinks and cabinets lining the back wall, with rows of hooks on either side of it, IV drips and chemical compounds hanging from each hook.

 

There was a door to the left, besides the hooks and near two cylindrical tubes, each taller than herself, looming in her direction. It was made of thick metal, with a glass viewing window, wide enough that her eyes could be seen.

 

She swallowed thickly.

 

“Sit on the table.” Dr. Schaffer said curtly and Lucy stepped towards one of them.

 

She chose a random one, pulling herself on top of it and shivering at the cold.

 

She finally noticed the metal cuffs on the table then, noting the way it seemed to be waiting for her arms. She remained seated, staying as still as possible while Dr. Schaffer rummaged around.

 

He reappeared in front of her with a stack of clothes. Lucy grasped it silently as he proceeded to stack shampoo and conditioning bottles in her arms. She stared at the objects without really staring at them.

 

“What are you doing to James?” She whispered.

 

Dr. Schaffer paused in his movements by the sink.

 

“I wasn’t lying about the blood tests, Ver.” He replied. “He’s just getting blood tests. For now. If Arnim’s serum really worked, then Barnes is well on his way to becoming a super soldier. He might need another boost, but that depends if Arnim decides to work for the US willingly.”

 

Lucy didn’t like the implication of his words.

 

“Of course, the Soviet’s nor did I expect Barnes to lose half his arm, so we’ll need an inventor's help. Like Stark.” Dr. Schaffer sighed as he stepped in front of her. “He’ll cooperate if we give him a good reason. If we lie, which we will.”

 

“So that’s it?” Lucy said. “You just- manipulate your way through situations and- and then what? You- you’ll put me in a suspended state, I’ll be used as a weapon for a cause that won’t exist because Steve is going to win and kill Schmidt. Then you will grow old. Does that not upset you?”

 

A sly smile slipped onto Dr. Schaffer’s face.

 

“Sure. If that’s what you think.” He said ominously and Lucy wondered if he was talking about the first part of her sentence, the second part, or both.

 

If he was going to put himself in cryostasis as well- no, that made absolutely no sense.

 

He jerked his head towards the unopened door

 

“Ten minutes. Shower, empty your stomach, and change.”

 

Lucy removed herself from the table, opening the door and entering with silence. 

 

She moved methodically, calculatingly, each movement holding purpose. 

 

She stepped out of the shower in five minutes, water trickling down her soaked hair as she tugged on her clothes. The tactical pants were the same- black, and weighted against her waist. The undershirt was the same color. But her over shirt, her main uniform, was different. 

 

Lucy didn’t panic, not at first, as her fingers brushed against the straps crossing where her torso would be. It looked suffocating, caging. She knew it was done on purpose. The back wasn’t as complicated, although the fabric indented where the straps aligned with. 

 

She tugged it over her shoulders, strapped the first few straps across her chest and torso-

 

Then stopped.

 

Her eyes wandered to the mirror in front of her, eyeing the vertical straps climbing over her shoulders, dropping to her back. She couldn’t reach that. It simply wasn’t possible. Just staring at it, Lucy knew she couldn’t. 

 

Lucy knew this was deliberate, that Dr. Schaffer had done this on purpose. It was a trick, she’d be in pain, and there was nothing she could do about it.

 

So she sank to her knees, embarrassment, resignation and fear all encircling her. She needed to ignore it, she needed to be indifferent, to not care because she’d once been stripped of all her clothes in front of guards to shower without anything and she’d only felt numb.

 

But it was only numb because she’d gotten used to it. 

 

Now she wasn’t.

 

The door opened and Lucy knew the ten minutes were over.

 

Her shoulders sagged with defeat as her wet hair fell in front of her face, hands at her sides. It was silent as Dr. Schaffer knelt behind her, hooking his fingers around the metal bands around the straps. He tightened them to fit, keeping them in place before turning her and fixing the straps over her torso, to the point it fitted her perfectly but made her feel suffocated at the same time.

 

He pulled away, and Lucy waited for punishment.

 

Nothing came and she hesitantly looked up at him.

 

He nodded his head towards the entrance of the bathroom and Lucy gaped at him for a few seconds, disbelieving, before hurriedly following after him, combat boots padding against the ground. 

 

Dr. Schaffer patted the metal table and Lucy climbed onto it with minimal difficulty. He handed her a tall glass of faintly pink colored something and she took it with reluctance.

 

“Drink it.” He ordered.

 

She stared at it.

 

He watched her.

 

When she didn’t move he raised his hand sharply and Lucy flinched away, the grip on her cup tightening with anxiety. He lowered his hand and raised an expectant eyebrow. She brought the glass to her lips and tilted it back.

 

She was surprised by the subtle sweetness and familiar tangy flavor of-

 

“Strawberry.” Dr. Schaffer remarked as he retrieved another tall glass. “That one cleans your digestive system.”

 

This time it was filled with blue-tinted liquid and Lucy felt queasy just looking at it. She carefully finished the drink in her hand and he took the glass from her. 

 

She expected him to give her the other one but he merely stood in front of her, tapping his foot against the ground almost boredly. It was like he was waiting for her to digest- oh, he was. 

 

A minute or so passed before he handed her the other cup.

 

She held it, watched the chemical concoction swirl in her hand, before shakily putting it to her lips. When the liquid hit her tongue she immediately wanted to gag and throw it right back up. 

 

She coughed and pulled the glass away from her face. Dr. Schaffer rubbed his temples impatiently as he pulled her off the table, kicking her to her knees as he grabbed the cup from her hand and pinched her nose. He pushed her head back and Lucy gasped for air, grabbing onto his arm as he poured the liquid down her throat.

 

“Don’t make a mess, Ver.” He said coolly as he released her nose.

 

Lucy choked, clawing at his arm desperately as the liquid threatened to climb back up her throat. He emptied the glass and placed it on the metal table, his other hand keeping a firm grip on her jaw. She swallowed the last of the chemical solution, wincing.

 

Dr. Schaffer straightened and Lucy shuddered as she tried to erase the disgusting flavor on her tongue.

 

She heard him unlatch the metal door of one of the cryostasis chambers, pressing a few buttons as the machine whirred to life. 

 

Lucy lifted her head, trembling as she stood.

 

Dr. Schaffer turned to her.

 

“Come here.” He ordered sternly and Lucy stumbled over her feet.

 

She stopped right in front of the metal door, fearful to step inside. Dr. Schaffer fished a blaxk mask out of his uniform pocket and tilted her head forward. She tucked her chin to her chest as he secured the mask over held nose, clasping it behind her neck.

 

Lucy felt caged- with her straight-jacket like Kevlar uniform, the thick mask that filtered her breath.

 

She opened her mouth to speak- to ask something- but only found discomfort and sealed her lips instead. 

 

Dr. Schaffer frowned deeply.

 

“I quite like it when you talk.” He noted. “I don’t like the mask.”

 

He admitted it to himself, but didn’t remove it as he moved to step in front of her. Lucy took a teetering step back, her combat boots hitting the edge of the small circular platform he wanted her to enter.

 

She gulped anxiously, eyes flickering across his face for some sort of reassurance, anything.

 

“Ver.” Dr. Schaffer spoke softly. “I’ll be right here when you wake up. And if it’s any comfort, so will Barnes. Now step inside. You’ll be okay.”

 

Lucy couldn’t tell if he was lying, not that she ever could. She decided it’d be better if she stepped inside rather than being beaten and bloodied.

 

With her hair still soaked with water, gently brushing against her shoulders, she took one heavy step back. Her foot met the platform, then the other. Her arms remained by her sides, stiff. She was reminded of her old isolation chamber, except this time, the air was colder.

 

He gazed at her for a long time, before shaking his head and shutting the door with a metal clang.

 

Without warning, the tube was filled with a temperature so low Lucy couldn’t feel her limbs almost instantly. The small space was filled with chemical smoke, and Lucy started to feel light headed, like she was starting to fade. 

 

Crystals of ice started to cluster around the glass in front of her.

 

Everything went black.

Chapter 51: Fifty

“To care so much is to hurt. But it's worth it."

Soviet Base, Ukraine.

June, 1954

METAL SCREECHED AS A steel door clattered open. A gust of cold air burst from the center of the cylindrical tube it was connected to, smoke unraveling across the small room. Warmth unfurled within the tube and Lucy could faintly see a bright white light in front of her eyes. She felt cold, not just a chilling cold, but a brumous ice-like cold that seeped through her muscles and skin, burying deep into her bones and remaining there. Her hair was completely frozen, shards of ice clinging to her head, her body, her skin. A shiver travelled through her body as the blinding light bled into vague shapes and moving colors. 

 

She felt two hands grab onto her arms and she would’ve gasped at the warmth if she could. The calloused scars over the person’s palms were familiar- Dr. Schaffer. She felt herself be pulled forwards, but failed to gain control of her limbs, still too cold and frozen to have the ability to move. His hands left, replaced by two pairs of hands grabbing onto either side of her arm. Her feet dragged uselessly against the floor as she was pulled onto a metal table, warm compared to her body’s temperature.

 

She tried to observe her surroundings, and realized their were doctors speaking frantically to each other, Dr. Schaffer’s voice sharp and directive as metal cuffs pressed against her wrists, atop the gold already trapping her abilities. She inhaled air with a sharp gasp, finding the energy to finally breathe.

 

Except she wasn’t breathing. 

 

Nothing was entering her airways and she started to panic, struggling against the restraints as her lungs burned for air. A hand pressed her back against the table and she kicked with alarm as something hovered in front of her face.

 

“Easy, Ver, easy!” Dr. Schaffer exclaimed as he moved beside her.

 

He tucked his hand underneath her head quickly, unclasping her mask and replacing it with another clear one, connected to a large tank.

 

An oxygen tank.

 

Lucy’s heart still hammered in her chest but the air finally entered her lungs, slowly diminishing her panic. A relieved sigh left her lips as she lay on the table, shutting her eyes. Someone was wiping the ice-now-water from her face, ruffling out her soaked hair. 

 

Once her breathing grew normal the mask on her face was removed.

 

She blinked hard, registering Dr. Schaffer’s face.

 

The only difference she could see in him was the slight crinkle around his eyes.

 

It made her tense.

 

How- how long had it been?

 

“Who the hell restrained her?.” Dr. Schaffer frowned deeply, eyes almost frantic. “Barnes is unstable- we need her there now!”

 

One of the soldiers nervously unclamped the metal around her arms and Dr. Schaffer grabbed her arm, forcing her off the table. 

 

She stumbled forwards, barely catching her footing before she slammed into the ground. Her arm was grabbed and Dr. Schaffer dragged her out of the blinding white room. 

 

The hallways, she realized slowly, were different.

 

She’d been moved to a completely different place, a completely different setting. She barely had the time to dwell on the thought as she tried to walk at Dr. Schaffer’s pace.

 

Wait. . .did he say Barnes? And unstable? What was that supposed to mean?

 

“W-Wait-“ she shivered but Dr. Schaffer’s grip only tightened.

 

“They’re cutting off Barnes’s arm.” He snapped impatiently. “I told Arnim to wait because he was going to bleed out, but do they listen to me? No!”

 

He looked angered and Lucy winced as his nails drew blood. He glanced at her arm and immediately loosened his grip, dragging her towards a wide glass viewing window-

 

They’re cutting off Barnes’s arm? 

 

What?

 

She heard screaming before she even entered the room as Dr. Schaffer slammed the door open. She gained control of her limbs, but it felt like she hadn’t. Her knees locked, frozen still at the sight of James cuffed to a metal table, letting loose blood-curdling screams as he struggled against the metal whirring saw cutting through his arm. 

 

Her shock lasted only a second as she ripped her arm out of Dr. Schaffer’s grip, her eyes narrowed on the doctor holding the saw. 

 

“Ver! Stand down! You’re only here to make sure Barnes doesn’t die!” Dr. Schaffer shouted as she moved to kill the doctor.

 

She stopped, fingers twitching. The doctor in front of her looked terrified, even with the metallic screeching saw in his hand.

 

Lucy’s ears stung by the way James was screaming.

 

They didn’t give him anesthesia.

 

Dr. Schaffer spun his finger around his circular device, now plated in silver. Lucy didn’t feel anything different with the metal around her wrists and neck but activated her abilities anyway. 

 

Anesthesia formed in James’s body, suppressing and interrupting nerve signals that processed pain. James’s stare grew hazy and his head lolled to the side as his eyes slid shut. 

 

The doctors seemed alarmed, but James’s vitals were fine so she moved beside the doctor with the saw, white wisps trailing the air and fading off as she hovered her fingers over the incision already made. She numbed it as best she could and awaited the doctor to continue sawing.

 

Her hands trembled.

 

If they hadn’t already made an incision she would’ve taken James and run, but blood was everywhere, dripping off the metal table and pattering against the ground.  

 

Lucy swallowed the bile travelling up her throat.

 

“Good.”

 

Lucy almost jumped as Dr. Schaffer spoke beside her.

 

The doctor continued pushing the saw through James’s limb before the doors swung open again and a cart was wheeled inside, containing an object covered by white cloth. It was moved to the right of the doctor, being pushed by a familiar face.

 

Dr. Zola stared, unbothered, as he removed the cloth carefully from the cart.

 

Lucy was still registering the fact Dr. Zola was somehow not in prison and working with other doctor’s- if you could call them that- when her eyes landed on the metal plates fashioned together on the cart, forming an undoubtedly heavy arm.

 

It was too futuristic, too perfectly sculpted and created with someone who had the prowess of- of Howard Stark.

 

She stared.

 

How long had it been?

 

James looked exactly the same, but Dr. Schaffer had said he would be put in cryo too, didn’t he?

 

Her eyes flicked to Dr. Zola.

 

He looked. . .older.

 

“Wh-“ her voice cracked unceremoniously and she winced as all eyes landed on her “-what year. What year. Is it.”

 

Dr. Schaffer’s lips quirked slightly.

 

“1954.” Dr. Zola replied.

 

Lucy blinked.

 

Once, twice, three times. 

 

It had been nine years? Nine years since- what had happened to the war? Was Peggy still alive? Or Steve- what happened to Steve?

 

“Captain America is dead.” Dr. Schaffer continued for Dr. Zola. “Schmidt is dead. HYDRA is led by us and a few political members, under the pretense of an organization named SHIELD, led by that friend of yours, Agent Bitch.”

 

Peggy?

 

The doctor’s whirring saw stopped and Lucy looked away as Dr. Schaffer grabbed the rest of James’s arm and tossed it in the bottom basket of the cart.

 

Dr. Zola took Dr. Schaffer’s place as he carefully put the polished metal arm beside James’s socket. 

 

James’s eyes flew open and Lucy immediately moved her other hand above his forehead to give him more anesthesia but he looked terrified. So she clogged his pain receptors and stopped the nerves from releasing their signals to his brain. 

 

His eyes landed on her.

 

She didn’t let her tears fall.

 

“Lucy?” His voice was hoarse, like rocks grating against rocks. “Lucy.”

 

“I’m here.” She breathed. “I’m here, love. Just- just look at me. Don’t- yeah, just look at me.”

 

James listened, staring at her as if he was trying to memorize her features.

 

A different doctor took the place of the man with the saw, holding two pairs of tweezers as he carefully maneuvered the raw wiring around James’s open wound, prodding and pulling flesh and wire.

 

And they’d planned to do it without anesthesia.

 

Hatred burned in her stomach but she didn’t dare raise a hand against the sick people around her. She kept her hands above him as the metal arm was attached, blood trickling down the shiny plates. It clicked and shifted and whirred as one of the doctor’s held a heated torch to his skin, metal mending along with it.

 

The doctor lifted James’s shoulder blade as he welded the back as well. 

 

Lucy was reminded of the cremating buildings she’d witnessed years ago, wafts of burnt flesh reaching her nose.

 

She held her breath.

 

The process was painstakingly slow. By the time the metal was fully mended, the skin was horribly melted, twisted and pathless. 

 

Lucy instinctively started healing the wound, letting her hand hover above it as skin started to knit together. 

 

“You look the same.” James whispered.

 

A bubble of hysterical laughter left her lips, surprising herself, and the doctor’s in the room. They stare at her as she nodded, throwing her head back to stare at the ceiling.

 

“You do too.” 

 

James plastered an easy going grin on his face, even with the sweat and tears trickling down his face, neck and hair smeared with blood.

 

“I tried.” His voice is heavy, the smile slipping from his face. “But they said- said Stevie is dead. There was an article. It was real. Stevie’s a-a-“

 

“Dumbass. Reckless dumbass.” Lucy forced out and James’s hazy smile returned.

 

“They tried to say you died.” His eyes focused on her intently. “But he-“

 

His cuffed hand pointed to Dr. Schaffer, who watched their interaction carefully.

 

“He would’ve burned this place to the ground if you did. C-cares too much.” His eyes grew tired, unfocused. “Gotta live. For ya- gotta-“

 

He flinched as Dr. Zola stepped to the otherside of him, as if the devil himself had appeared.

 

Lucy felt cold.

 

To James was- was Dr. Zola what Dr. Schaffer was to her? A tormentor? A torturer? 

 

She exhaled sharply as James’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body exhausted.

 

The metal arm- what was the reason for the metal arm? What was the reason for wasting their time, energy, and resources to give him the metal arm?

 

The metal arm-

 

The metal arm was a weapon- it was a part of him- was a weapon- a weapon- a-

 

Lucy snapped her head up to Dr. Schaffer.

 

“No.” She blurted. “You- already- no, no, no- you don’t need another weapon you don’t- I’m the Verfall Soldier you don’t need another one-“

 

Dr. Schaffer took one of her trembling hands.

 

He pulled her away from James.

 

Lucy dug her heels into the ground.

 

“You,” he started, “are too hard to control. You won’t want to live if Barnes dies so you’ll try to kill yourself. With Barnes alive and wanting escape there's no guarantee you won’t run away. So if Barnes has no wants, has no likes or dislikes or choices or emotions, becomes a weapon, then you are anchored to this place.”

 

His voice was cold.

 

“Anchored.” He repeated.

 

Lucy ripped her hand out of his grasp. She stumbled backwards towards James and Dr. Schaffer shook his head disapprovingly. She planted herself next to James.

 

Dr. Schaffer rotated the circular metal in his hand, anti-clockwise, and Lucy had a feeling it meant she couldn’t use her abilities anymore.

 

“Come here.” He ordered.

 

Lucy’s eyes shifted to Dr. Zola who regarded her coldly.

 

Her eyes moved back to Dr. Schaffer’s finger, hovering above the circular device. Lucy shook her head, hands trembling, but defiant.

 

He pressed down on the metal. 

 

Lucy didn’t scream- didn’t have the time to. Just dropped to her knees like dead weight as she doubled over, one hand gripping the table James was lying on, fingers making dents in the metal. She huffed, breath heavy as throbbing pain contracted within her muscles.

 

She felt both of her arms be grabbed by a pair of soldiers, who’d been waiting at the entrance, expectant, patient. Lucy scrambled to get to her feet, tugging herself out of their vice-like grips.

 

Electricity sparked through her a second time and her hands twitched as her legs buckled beneath her.

 

“No-“ she sputtered as James let out a groan “-no, no, no, James!”

 

His eyes fluttered open on the table, he lifted his hand, his metal hand, stared at it with confusion. Two doctors stepped forwards, one holding a clipboard and the other admiring James’s arm.

 

Lucy kicked at the soldier holding her and Dr. Schaffer relentlessly shocked her again. A low whimper left her throat as James’s hand reached out and grabbed the doctor’s neck, throwing him across the room.

 

A crack resonated.

 

Lucy lifted her head.

 

“Sergeant Barnes,” Dr. Zola loomed over James now, stabbing a needle in his thigh, “you will be the new fist of HYDRA.”

 

The soldiers dragged her out of the room and Dr. Schaffer blocked her line of sight as they exited.

 

“You don’t need him!” She cried desperately. “He didn’t do anything wrong- he didn’t-“

 

Dr. Schaffer grabbed her by the chin, his grip impossibly tight as he forced her head upwards.

 

“And neither did you. It doesn’t make a difference.” He tilted his head, eyes tracing her tearful ones.

 

He roughly let go of her face. He turned to the two soldiers.

 

“Put her back on ice. She’s useless until Barnes is fully programmed."

Chapter 52: Fifty One

“Don't worry when you are not recognized, but strive to be worthy of recognition."

Lviv Region, Ukraine.

January, 1958

WHEN THEY PULLED HER FROM the cryostasis chamber she was disinterested in her surroundings. Her mind immediately narrowed down on one thought- James, James, James. She needed to know he was still alive, still breathing, still standing. She barely registered the hands shackling her to the metal table she’d been placed on, nor did she notice Dr. Schaffer’s genuinely concerned look as he watched her unresponsive, blank expression. After she was cleaned of water and her vitals checked, her mask was removed and she was guided away by Dr. Schaffer. 

 

Six soldiers surrounded her, all armed to the teeth.

 

It didn’t matter. 

 

She wasn’t going to escape without James. That had never been an option in her mind, ever since the fiasco in Azzano. She was escorted to a cell with seven different locks, all of which Dr. Schaffer clicked open. He stepped inside and she followed hesitantly, unsure. 

 

The soldiers remained outside of the door, guarding.

 

Inside the cell-like room were two chairs and a table, one neatly placed folder at the center of it, facing her direction. As she drew closer, she could read the printed Russian words, Зимний Coлдат, Winter Soldier. 

 

She swallowed anxiously as Dr. Schaffer sat at the table, clasping his hands together and leaning them against the metal. He tilted his head silently and Lucy slowly sat down, her legs rigid and almost shaking. She put her hands in her lap, eyes shifting over the folder.

 

“Did I tell you to read that?” 

 

Dr. Schaffer’s voice was impeccably sharp and Lucy snapped her head back as if she’d been slapped. 

 

Her gaze moved to Dr. Schaffer, who had a pleasant smile on his face. She realized it wasn’t one of anger or one that was forced. He was relaxed, shoulders dropped and leg draped over the other. 

 

“There are a few things you must be caught up with before we try putting you in a room with Barnes who is no longer Barnes.” Dr. Schaffer paused for dramatic effect.

 

Lucy lifted her head, gazing into Dr. Schaffer’s eyes. They were bright with amusement, excitement even, and it made her blood curdle uncomfortably under her skin. It terrified her enough that she dropped her eyes to the side of his face. 

 

“What? No snarky remark?” He grinned.

 

Lucy took that as an invitation to speak.

 

“What year is it?” Her voice was quiet. “Where’s James? What did you do to him? Is he dead? Who’s the Winter Soldier? How can Barnes no longer be Barnes?”

 

And then, finally, as her eyes roamed over his unchanging face-

 

“Why haven’t you aged?”

 

Dr. Schaffer’s amused smile dissipated as he shifted in his seat, leaning forwards. He examined her face for a few seconds, staring, before a long sigh escaped his lips. He threw his hands back behind his head, frowning.

 

“Do you think I stare at your cryostasis chamber, waiting for the moment Dr. Zola agrees to wake you up?” He started.

 

Lucy opened her mouth to say yes because that was definitely something he would do.

 

“No.” He answered his own question. “Before the last time you awoke I started working on a little serum of my own. A serum specific to each person, in this case, my genetics. It’s impossible to halt one’s aging completely. That’s how life works. You live, you die.”

 

He shrugged.

 

“However, the serum I’ve made slows how fast my body ages,” he waved his hand at his head, “how fast my mind ages. I should be forty-two. I finished the serum and used it around ‘52.”

 

He hummed thoughtfully.

 

“I was thirty-six, and since I quartered the amount I age. . .” He tapped his chin. “I should be around thirty-seven and a half-ish.”

 

Lucy blinked several times.

 

Had he planned that back in 1945? 

 

Is that why he’d looked so smug about her protesting? 

 

She drummed her fingers against her thighs nervously. She didn’t want him to be on the planet any longer than he needed to. And now he was lengthening his stay? 

 

She exhaled deeply.

 

“I will say it is slightly annoying to take a serum every four months but, well, small sacrifices.” He smiled. “Enough about me, although I could go on-“

 

“Forever.” She ended, before adding quietly. “I know.”

 

Dr. Schaffer stared and Lucy’s heart rate picked up. She tapped her fingers in a one two, one two three pattern until he let out a small chuckle. Her chest deflated with relief. He reached forwards and opened the folder in front of her, still facing her direction. 

 

She was greeted with a photo of James with hair grown to his shoulders, inside a glass cryostasis chamber, upgraded since the last time. Lucy wondered if her chamber had been changed. 

 

She had been too out of it to notice.

 

Besides the picture was a stack of thin paper, printed with Russian Cyrillic, lines and lines of the language glaring back at her. Lucy didn’t let her eyes go further than the Subject, unsettled by what may be written.

 

It didn’t take a genius to realize it was all about James.

 

Dr. Schaffer sighed.

 

“I would let you sit there and read without any guidance but I, for one, think that will take too long.” He closed the folder and Lucy suddenly had the will to protest.

 

She should read whatever was written. It was partly her fault James was here in the first place. It was a deserving punishment.

 

Dr. Schaffer pulled the folder back before she could try and grab it. His eyes scanned the page before he shut it, deeming the information unsatisfactory.

 

He lifted his gaze, lips curling into a smirk.

 

“Sergeant James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes, was born in 1917, has three sisters, one named Rebecca, whom he calls Becca, a mother named Winifred and a father who died when he was young. His best friend is Steven ‘Stevie’ Grant Rogers, otherwise known as Captain America. His best gal is you,” he pointed to her, “whom he fell in love with when he first spoke to you.”

 

Lucy swallowed thickly. 

 

Where was he going with this? 

 

Most importantly, how did he know all of this? 

 

Everything about James?

 

“He has significant and prominent memories about the following: longing for a dame he could settle down with and live a married life on a farm; rusted cars, which he fixed as a self-taught mechanic and spent most of his time with Rebecca in his shop; a furnace breaking down in the middle of Winter and having to sleep on one bed with Steve because they were rooming together and were too poor to fix the furnace- oh, Steve, who, by the way, Barnes adored as a lover at the time-“ Dr. Schaffer paused then. “-there’s nothing more brutal than unrequited love; watching daybreak alongside his family, his comrades, and you, of course; he was seventeen when he first realized he liked both genders, which would have resulted in persecution although I do not understand why, I mean both genders are quite lovely things-“

 

Lucy curled her hands into fists, eyes trained on the nonchalant wave of his hand as he talked about people like objects, like they were something to use then throw away. 

 

It made her want to rip him to pieces.

 

“What’s the point of telling me this?” She said calmly, interrupting him.

 

Dr. Schaffer clapped his hands together.

 

“I was waiting for your inquiry.” He beamed and Lucy clenched her jaw. “There’s more in this.”

 

He smacked the folder against the table.

 

“But alas, your question remains valid. Why am I telling you this? Well, James was taken out of cryo about four months prior to today. That makes him now five months older than you, if you’re curious. He was incredibly hard to break. His willpower was stronger than yours. A curious thing. Just like you in so many ways.” Dr. Schaffer rubbed his thumb and index finger together, as if the topic was disinteresting to him. “But he did break. He told us everything we wanted. Then he was trained in hand to hand combat, learned seven different languages from several bilingual agents, and was conditioned to respond as a weapon by Arnim.”

 

Bile climbed Lucy’s throat as Dr. Schaffer opened the folder again, flipping to grotesque pictures of James being brutally tortured. Sometimes he was bleeding, other times he was being waterboarded, another time he was trapped in a cell, looking like he was experiencing hypothermic shock. 

 

She couldn’t keep it in, scooting her chair back with a screech and rushing to the corner of the room as she vomited, coughing and hacking up whatever was left in her digestive system dropped to the floor.

 

“Well,” Dr. Schaffer was still seated, “I didn’t think you could throw up right now. I would’ve prepared.”

 

He sighed with a pinch of annoyance as he flipped a familiar circular device in his hand. 

 

He turned the piece atop it clockwise.

 

“Clean it up.” He said with a condescending look.

 

Lucy flinched at the sudden change in his tone and she found herself hurriedly turning it into water and letting it evaporate. 

 

Dr. Schaffer turned the device anti-clockwise.

 

She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat as she reapproached her chair, sitting down shakily.

 

Dr. Schaffer flipped to a different page before she could catch another glimpse of the horrible photos. The next one wasn’t any better but it looked less bloody. 

 

James was seated in a large reclining chair, his head leaned back and shirtless, for whatever reason. His metal arm was locked in place with a thick and long metal cuff, his other arm trapped with two more cuffs. Lucy suspected his metal arm was partially shut off, if they could do that.

 

As Lucy’s eyes roamed the picture she noticed a piece of metal between his mouth, his neck looking strained. There were two metal pieces covering the lower and upper part of his face. The grainy photo had splotches of white, patterned like-

 

Like electricity.

 

“What makes a person a person is, fundamentally, their memories. Without their memories they do not know who they are, who they were, and who they wish to become.” Dr. Schaffer tapped his finger against the picture- the chair. “This is the ECD, an Electro-memory Correction System. It erases memories and unwanted malfunctions.”

 

Lucy’s hands trembled.

 

They had shocked his brain. They had shocked him- until- his memories- she felt sick- sick- sick-

 

“It took some experimenting, but the patience was worth it.” He grinned. “Barnes no longer recognizes pictures of Steve Rogers, does not recognize pictures of the Howling Commandos, does not recognize, well, you.”

 

Lucy’s expression grew blank as she registered his words. 

 

James didn’t remember her- he didn’t- he didn’t remember her. Or Steve, or Dum Dum, or anyone on the team. 

 

He just didn’t remember.

 

“His primary handler is currently Arnim. He doesn’t dare lift a hand against the man- he isn’t allowed to after all.” He paused, lips turning down into a frown. “But anyone who comes near him- agents, soldiers, technicians- he slaughters with or without the help of his metal arm. Even when Arnim orders him against savagely murdering people, he barely listens.”

 

Dr. Schaffer shut the folder.

 

Lucy’s brows furrowed with confusion. When she’d first returned from being as conditioned as she possibly could, she didn’t have the ability to defy Dr. Schaffer’s orders, even if she did have the desire to rip the nearest agent to shreds. 

 

Lucy had to agree with Dr. Schaffer’s previous statement- James’s willpower was unparalleled.

 

“Yesterday we were returning him to cryo. Nothing we did stopped him from being a feral mess. We needed more time to research.” He continued.

 

“You mean you needed more time figuring out how to kill his soul without killing his body.” She interrupted.

 

Dr. Schaffer gazed at her.

 

“Take it the way you wish. The Soldier sat down on his metal table as instructed. He was observant. His eyes had landed on your Chamber and had stared at you through your glass viewing window.” Dr. Schaffer stood, his chair scraping backwards. “At the time, the technician prepping his arm had looked accepting of his death.”

 

“He is currently the only technician who hasn’t lost his head.”

 

He leaned forwards, pushing the folder back in front of her and flipping to one of the very last pages.

 

Lucy’s heart hammered in her chest. 

 

The relief in her chest was almost unbearable, but it was a good feeling. Somewhere inside, James still remembered her. Sure, the memories might’ve been locked away but they were still there.

 

Then she registered his implication.

 

They were going to use her to keep him compliant.

 

They’d already tried that before. And it would work.

 

“You are his, what is it? Sun- solace.” She wondered why Dr. Schaffer seemed more comfortable speaking english.

 

She was sure the Russians spoke well, russian, and that Dr. Zola spoke, German- actually, she didn’t know if Dr. Zola preferred english over German. 

 

Maybe it was for her sake. That didn’t seem right.

 

She blinked as she really listened to his words.

 

James had been her calm. 

 

Now she was his, even if he couldn’t really remember her.

 

“We decided to take you out today, and re-train the Soldier with a new outlook. So,” he tapped the sheet of paper in front of her, “skim this. These are the Soldier’s regulations and such. They’re exact to yours so if you remember them-“

 

Lucy reached out and shut the folder.

 

Her other hand clenched into a fist against her thigh.

 

“I remember them like yesterday.” She admitted tonelessly. “Take me to Jam- the Soldier.”

 

She grounded out the word.

 

Refer to the weapon as it’s renewed and designated name.

 

Dr. Schaffer’s eyes trailed over her for a second before he beckoned her to stand. She did, her chair shoving backwards. 

 

He stepped over to the exit, having no need to unlock the door since he hadn’t locked them when they’d entered. 

 

Had that been a test? Had he expected her to try and leave?

 

“There is no guarantee he won’t try to kill you.” He warned and Lucy stared at him like he’d grown another head.

 

James wouldn’t.

 

He wouldn’t.

 

Dr. Schaffer responded to her look with a shrug.

 

The pair entered the hall and Lucy was immediately surrounded by the soldiers who’d been on guard. She tucked closer to Dr. Schaffer, uncomfortable with everyone else but him. That was a funny thing to think about- feeling safe around a man who tortured her.

 

She swatted the thought away.

 

They took two lefts, then a right, then another left, before they met Dr. Zola in the hall. He nodded at Dr. Schaffer in greeting before stepping to the side of him, walking alongside the doctor without sparing Lucy a glance. 

 

She wondered what had changed, not that she missed Dr. Zola’s attention. He wasn’t as violent as Dr. Schaffer.

 

That didn’t mean she enjoyed his presence any more.

 

They took one more right before stopping in front of the last room at the end of the hall.

 

Dr. Zola pulled out a ring of keys and started to unlock the seven locks. When the last one clicked open Dr. Zola’s relaxed demeanor disappeared completely.

 

“К стене, Солдат!”

 

Against the wall, Soldier!

 

He barked out the order, his tone tight, voice carefully controlled.

 

Lucy could hear movement inside before Dr. Zola pulled the door open.

 

The cell was vacant, all except for the towering man pressed against the farthest wall. James was. . .taller, by an inch or so. She assumed it was from his knockoff serum, after all, Steve had grown exponentially. Maybe James was growing taller at a slower rate. 

 

He was wearing a black undershirt, accompanied by black tactical pants and leather combat boots. His hands were by his sides, his head horizontal to the ground and back flat against the wall. 

 

Lucy’s observant gaze lifted to meet his stare. 

 

His eyes were a bright blue with a tint of gray, just as she’d remembered. The color of them had always reminded her of a frozen ocean in the middle of Winter, a Winter that never ended. But he’d always lacked the season’s cold. She couldn’t say the same anymore.

 

His eyes were a numbing cold, a crisp, wintry cold that threatened to give her frostbite. It wasn’t a light chill like the first snowfall, it was a raw, arctic ice that took the warmth away from her chest. 

 

Lucy hesitated.

 

He was James, but he wasn’t, all at the same time. 

 

His conditioning was far worse than hers, she knew that, because her memories were still intact and they’d chosen to keep her that way since she’d-

 

She’d just given up, out of her own free will, if she even had one anymore.

 

But James hadn’t given up. 

 

HYDRA had to remove who he was just to get him to think about listening to their orders. He hadn’t given up because he no longer had the choice to, especially with his lack of memories- the lack of his life.

 

His lips were pressed into an expressionless line, his eyes staying on Dr. Zola first, before moving to her.

 

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t move from his position.

 

Dr. Zola stepped aside and Dr. Schaffer placed a hand on the nape of her neck.

 

“Let’s see if he remembers you just as you remember him.” 

 

He pushed her forwards, almost gently, if not for the nails digging into her skin. She stumbled forwards and Dr. Zola shut the door with a loud clang behind her. The locks started clicking shut immediately and Lucy couldn’t help the anxiety growing in her chest.

 

James- the Soldier was staring at her, completely focusing his attention on her movements as she took a step forwards. He was tracking everything- how many times she breathed in a minute, how many seconds between her blinks, how she fiddled with her fingers and the white strap around her thigh, where a dagger lay in plain sight.

 

They stayed like that for at least ten minutes.

 

If Lucy hadn’t been staring at him, he would’ve moved so fast, so silently, that she wouldn’t have caught the metal fist flying towards her face. There was so much force behind the punch that she skidded backwards, even if she’d expected some sort of violent reaction. Her grip was tight on his metal arm and the look of concealed surprise in his eyes was easy to see.

 

He didn’t move for a few seconds, tilting his head with imperceptible confusion.

 

Then his other hand slammed into her abdomen, or well, at least he tried. She lifted her left leg, using the momentum to kick up her other one, using his metal hand for balance. The punch missed her as she wrapped her legs around his neck, spinning as she used her arm to slam him into the ground. They both hit the ground with a thud, and Lucy jumped back as the Soldier stood to his feet in a split second, unaffected.

 

Lucy remembered a time James would groan, then pout at her.

 

Her heart ached but she ignored it as he rushed forwards, kicking forwards. Lucy kicked her feet up and jumped against the wall, slamming him into the ground. This time, when they hit the ground, Lucy forced her knee into his stomach, stopping himself from clambering onto his feet. Her other foot stayed on his metal arm and his other hand reached up, grabbing her hair and throwing her underneath him.

 

She flinched as her back hit the ground, a blade pressed to her throat- her own blade. The Soldier towered over her, his hair falling into his face, the dangerous gleam in his eyes faltering. 

 

The locks on the door started to unlock. The Soldier’s head didn’t even snap up as he stared at her blankly. Metal screeched open and Lucy was faintly aware of the agents marching inside, circling them as best they could in the rectangular room. 

 

Dr. Schaffer and Dr. Zola was there too, but she didn’t really notice.

 

The blade was yet to draw blood, and Lucy found that she didn’t care whether it did or didn’t.

 

The Soldier’s eyes were cold, but they were haunted as well.

 

She reached up with one hand, slow and deliberate. He flinched at the motion but didn’t move as she pressed her palm against his cheek. 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

The Soldier’s eyes flashed with recognition for a moment. 

 

Orders were being shouted, one of the agents took a step forward- a higher ranking one she assumed.

 

The blade against her throat was pulled back, embedded in between the agent’s forehead. The others stepped further back and the Soldier stepped off of her, remaining in a crouch as he wrapped his right arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest as he glared dangerously at the men around them.

 

“Она моя.”

 

She’s mine.

 

His voice was gravelly, dark, almost.

 

Lucy caught a glimpse of Dr. Schaffer’s scowl as Dr. Zola adjusted his glasses, eyes shifting between them.

 

He nodded sharply once.

 

“Да, Солдат, она ваша.”

 

Yes, Soldier, she’s yours.

 

Lucy didn’t know if that was for better, or for worse.

 

Chapter 53: Fifty Two

"I look on and do nothing to protect my family.”

Texas, America.

November, 1963

FOR THE PAST YEARS Lucy had grown familiar with being Verfall and nothing else. It would’ve been impossible for Lucy to remain sane if she didn’t, so she let herself become the weapon they wanted. She had spent most of her time in cryostasis, and had assumed she was taken out of cryo every two months for the first two years, remaining awake for one month alongside James- the Soldier- who she grew accustomed to calling Winter. 

 

The time she’d spent awake had been agonizing. 

 

She had learned several new languages that usually ended in punishment because she couldn’t remember a verb or conjugation. When she ended up lucky she’d spent her time sparring with James, training him until he advanced so far he fought better than her and their positions swapped. Sometimes they were put in a cell with an informant, seated together to catch up on new weaponry, new concepts, new facilities-  like this one, which was filled with American agents.

 

There was a time Lucy had pondered over the thought of reminding Winter of who he really was, but she ended up not doing so because of the consequences that hung over them. 

 

If Winter managed to remember he was a person just like their handlers, he would immediately be dragged to the Chair and he’d be in excruciating pain- all because of her. If he didn’t remember he was a person, and denied her words, he’d end up reporting to his superiors and they’d both be punished.

 

Now she rarely thought about escaping. 

 

If Winter didn’t budge, then Verfall wouldn’t either. They were a package, a pair, and neither of them ever left each other’s side. Some agents found it amusing, some agents found it pitiful.

 

Verfall rarely noticed their gazes. 

 

She pulled her knees to her chest, leaning her chin against her legs as her eyes flitted past Winter, who was seated at the opposite corner of their cell, staring in front of him. Verfall knew to avoid him when he entered a blank state. She’d made that mistake one too many times and ended up in an awkward staring contest with Winter pinning her down with his eyes, a dangerous gleam in them. All things considered, she was glad he hadn’t thrown a fist yet, even though she was sure he wanted to.

 

Winter remained staring for a few long seconds, and Verfall’s eyes skittered away. She fidgeted with the blade strapped against her thigh, the one weapon she was allowed to have. She would never draw it against the men here anyway, unless she was sure Winter wouldn’t get hurt.

 

The sound of metal scraping against the ground caught her attention and Verfall’s eyes returned to Winter. He was patting the vacant space beside, his metal arm shifting, eyes sharp. She stood and padded towards him, footsteps silent. She lowered herself to the ground, sitting beside him quietly. He jutted his elbow out slightly and she wrapped her arm around his, half hugging him as she pressed into his side.

 

He was cold, just as always. Verfall, on the other hand, was warm. He curled into her as she curled into him.

 

“Malfunction?” She asked softly.

 

She used to think his malfunctions- his memories- were the best thing that could ever happen. Hypothetically speaking, he would remember and then they could try and escape, do something- but she quickly learned memories only meant the Chair.

 

And the Chair ended with a reset Soldier.

 

They never really let him forget her- they couldn’t really get rid of his urge to protect- but the time they spent together in their cells would be forgotten.

 

He blinked.

 

“Recommended hours of sleep could not be obtained.” He replied as smoothly as his disused voice allowed.

 

Verfall acknowledged the small bit of relief that’d settled in her chest. It was quickly overlapped by concern. They both struggled with sleep often, since being in a frozen state was much different than actually laying down and sleeping. 

 

She sympathized with him.

 

“Understood.” She replied quietly.

 

Winter examined her for a moment before turning his head back to look in front of him. 

 

Verfall let her mind drift, wondering if they were finally going back to cryo. They weren’t allowed to sleep unless they were awake for 120 hours, thus leading to five days of zero sleep. Dr. Zola had said it was necessary because sleep meant Winter’s brain would heal and the Chair wouldn’t be as effective.

 

Verfall would hate the Chair if she had the ability to hate.

 

The locks to their room started clicking open and Verfall lifted her head as Winter straightened, eyes flicking to the door immediately.

 

She unwrapped her hand from Winter’s arm, instinctively holding out her palms. 

 

The door screeched open and Verfall resisted the urge to wince at the sound as Dr. Zola stepped inside. Dr. Zola had aged, and with growing age came sickness. Verfall wasn’t sure what he could be sick with, but she knew for a fact he wasn’t healthy, just by observing him.

 

He was followed by a group of agents clad in back. There were five of them, hands all hovering besides their guns. 

 

She expected Dr. Schaffer to appear. 

 

So when he didn’t, she suppressed the urge to furrow her eyebrows with confusion. She hadn’t seen him since she was pulled out of cryostasis. And that was wrong. 

 

He was always there when she woke up.

 

Always.

 

“Put your hands down.” Dr. Zola’s voice was sharp.

 

Her palms dropped to the side of her legs.

 

“Stand up, both of you.” He ordered curtly.

 

Winter was on his feet in an instant, head horizontal to the ground. Verfall was not far behind, her back straight and her eyes focused at the side of Dr. Zola’s head.

 

Eye contact with a handler is not permitted.

 

Dr. Zola took a step forward, waving hand towards the five men behind him.

 

“You have a mission.” He said clearly.

 

A mission?

 

Verfall buried the bile climbing up her throat, the protest that was there but wasn’t there, all at the same time. 

 

They were going to use them, for the first time.

 

“This is your mission handler.” He introduced, turning to the man behind him.

 

Verfall examined his stature- something about him was familiar. Her eyes trailed from his combat boots to his gear, then to his face, hazel brown eyes staring back at her with a thin lipped grimace. 

 

Those brown eyes. . .her gaze dropped to his hands.

 

He was the only man who wasn’t touching his gun.

 

“You’ll be reporting to him and you will refer to him as commander.” Dr. Zola continued.

 

Verfall shifted her attention back to him.

 

“Do you understand?” He said sharply.

 

“Affirmative.” The pair responded quietly.

 

Verfall’s eyes trailed after Dr. Zola as he turned on his heel, feet clacking against the ground as he disappeared out of the cell.

 

The man Dr. Zola had waved to- the Mission Handler, Commander- took a step forward.

 

“Luke, get the truck ready.” He ordered, with a lazy tone.

 

The agent to his left grinned, saluting him almost jokingly. 

 

“Come on, guys. Jo will be fine.” Luke waved his hand as he stepped out of the cell.

 

A few begrudging sighs left his comrades’s lips as they shot Jo? a look. He nodded at them and the rest of his team followed Luke. 

 

Verfall felt her heart stutter in her chest. 

 

Her eyelid twitched as she realized the man in front of her, although much older than she’d remembered, was Joseph Rumlow, the same teen-almost-adult she’d left back at the military base with Peggy.

 

“My name is Joseph Rumlow.” His eyes were focused on Winter, who didn’t recognize him at all.

 

Joseph’s voice was sharp and cold, making no room for argument. Winter stared at him as if he wanted to break his neck, but the tone and fearlessness in Joseph’s words were keeping him at bay.

 

Verfall tried to remain at ease.

 

“You will call me Commander Rumlow out on the field, and on missions. When we are alone it is your prerogative to call me Joseph. And do not use sir with me, understand?” He said firmly.

 

Winter’s eyes never left the side of Joseph’s face.

 

“Affirmative.” Winter adjusted to the language used, dropping the sir before he could even use it.

 

Joseph’s eyes flicked back to Verfall, noticing the recognition flitting between her eyes.

 

“The same goes for you.” He paused, clearing his throat. “Your first mission is a test. Fail it and there will be consequences. You will get into uniform. Mission debrief will be in the transport to our target. Understood?”

 

Verfall nodded firmly.

 

“Affirmative.” She answered for both of them.

 

Joseph bit the inside of his lip, before nodding his head to the exit. 

 

Winter stepped forwards silently and Verfall followed beside him. 

 

The mere fact Joseph was turning his back on them was dangerous, yet a show of trust towards the two weapons. Winter seemed calm and almost curious as his eyes remained on Joseph, passive.

 

The metal plates in his arms shifted as he walked. Agents he usually killed were those who grew jittery at the noise. Joseph, on the other hand, remained relaxed, walking forwards with an air of superiority, as if he had control of the situation.

 

It was a refreshing change, to say the least.

 

And it made Verfall less worri- she couldn’t get worried.

 

They turned into a smaller, compact room, filled to the brim with equipment and their uniforms. 

 

Winter’s eyes were dull as they flicked over the weaponry and Verfall knew he needed sleep. She kept to herself, however, as Joseph handed both of them their uniforms, waving his hand towards the guns and knives splayed out.

 

“You will only take the weapons placed out for you.” He said, before stepping towards a sniper rifle. “Soldier, you are to make the kill.”

 

Winter nodded stiffly, pulling his straight-jacket uniform over his head, covering his undershirt. He remained still as Joseph padded forwards, tightening the straps on his shoulders and across his torso. 

 

Verfall scanned her uniform, tilting her head when she noticed the sleeve to her right arm was replaced with a white sleeve, buckled and laced up. It had a piece that would button over her neck, hiding the gold necklace beneath it.

 

She ducked her head when Joseph came close, his hands firm as he adjusted her straps as well.

 

“I’m sorry, Lucy.” His voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear him.

 

She flinched at her name- that wasn’t allowed- but his words. . .what was he apologizing for? She tried to think positively: Joseph wouldn’t join HYDRA out of his own free will. Something was amiss, and Verfall just wasn’t in on it.

 

If that was what he was apologizing for, then he had no need to.

 

Her eyes softened as she locked gazes with him. He nodded at her with acknowledgment, before turning towards the door. Verfall moved swiftly and calculatingly as she grabbed her daggers, hiding some in her boot and some in her tactical pants before grabbing two pistols and tucking them into her holsters.

 

She inhaled deeply before placing her mask on her face. 

 

She glanced at Winter once she finished, his hands wrapping around the long barreled firearm. He held it firmly, metal clicking against metal. 

 

Joseph walked out of the room and Winter followed immediately. Verfall hurriedly moved to catch up with him as they entered the hallway. 

 

They took a few turns before exiting the building, into a garage, fully opened with rays of light bleeding across the floor. 

 

Verfall couldn’t remember the last time she’d caught sight of natural light.

 

Joseph led them to a parked military truck, the back doors wide open. The chattering inside quieted down as the three of them climbed inside. Joseph shut the double doors behind them, sliding the lock shut as he nestled himself between two of his comrades, leaning his head against the interior.

 

“C’mon man.” The agent to his left huffed as he scooted over.

 

Joseph rolled his eyes at him, an easy going grin on his face.

 

He seemed to notice Verfall and Winter were still standing so he pointed towards the vacant seat across from him.

 

“Sit, both of you.” He said with a voice of command and Winter lowered himself to the ground.

 

“No,” Joseph frowned and Verfall winced as Winter tensed, “on the bench.”

 

Verfall swallowed, uncomfortable with the prospect of being on the same level as her mission handler. Winter seemed to think the same but neither of them protested as they sat on the bench jutting out from the side.

 

Joseph poked Luke who grabbed a folder sitting on top of a black case. He tossed it to Joseph who flipped the folder around and showed it to the pair across from them.

 

Their target looked to be in his 40’s, hair dark in the black and white photo. He was smiling, grinning from ear to ear as if someone had told a joke and he’d laughed.

 

Verfall’s eyes flicked over the information and stopped at one word- 

 

President.

 

HYDRA wanted them to assassinate a President?

 

“This is your target: John F. Kennedy, President of the US. Intel says he’ll be driven in a convertible, so it should be a clean shot, not a big mess. There’ll be thousands of witnesses who see the gunshots. As long as they don’t see you keep them alive, alright?” His eyes focused on Winter.

 

Verfall blinked.

 

Joseph had. . .grown. His voice was almost as confident and firm as a Colonel’s, focused on the task at hand for maximum efficiency. 

 

“Affirmative.” He responded gruffly, his voice muffled.

 

“Good.” He turned to Verfall. “Your task is to lead the Soldier into the building he will snipe from. It’s a library which is storing school books at the moment. There’ll be a worker there. His name is Lee Harvey Oswald. Make sure he’s unconscious, and leave the rifle in his hands. Get rid of the Soldier’s fingerprints as well, got it?”

 

Verfall nodded firmly and Joseph’s lips twitched slightly before he turned, slamming his fist into the side of the vehicle.

 

“Get goin’ Volya!” He said loudly.

 

There was a muffled- “got it!”- that was accented with russian.

 

The truck started to move and Verfall blinked when Winter’s head leaned against her shoulder. Her eyebrow twitched as she tilted her body towards him, carefully pushing the curtain of hair covering his face. His grip on the rifle was still firm, his metal fingers almost locked into place, but his eyes were shut, breathing even but slow. 

 

Of course- he hadn’t slept.

 

Verfall let his hair fall back in front of his face as she nervously shifted her gaze to Joseph’s. Sleeping without permission was against protocol and would end in punishment. She knew Joseph was, well, Joseph, but he was still a handler.

 

Joseph was too busy elbowing the agent next to him- Luke- who was snickering at something he’d said. She kept her eyes on him, but Luke noticed instead, his eyebrow raising.

 

“Something wrong?” He asked not unkindly.

 

Verfall blinked as Joseph finally looked at her.

 

“Winter-“ she hesitated “-was not able to obtain the necessary amount of sleep for efficient performance. Permission to sleep has not been granted.”

 

Joseph’s face contorted at her words, before his expression grew flat, emotions carefully controlled as his eyes shifted to Winter, still fast asleep.

 

“Permission granted-“ he paused, “-Lucy.”

 

Verfall nodded, resisting the urge to wince at her name.

 

“Joseph-“ Luke started hesitantly.

 

“Nope.” Joseph popped the p as he turned to Verfall.

 

“You’re still you, under all of those protocols, aren’t you?” He asked quietly and Luke leaned back in his seat with a groan.

 

Her eyes shifted to the two other agents seated besides him, then Luke, then back to Joseph. She fiddled with her fingers, unsure of what she was meant to say.

 

Was this a trick?

 

She’d gotten used to handlers trying to test her conditioning, to see if she was still there. They could never get rid of her, so Lucy just wore the title Verfall like a fur coat that was too big for her, weighing down who she really was.

 

When she realized they were poking and prodding at her to get a reaction, she had started locking bits and pieces of her away.

 

“They won’t get you in trouble.” Joseph assured as he noticed her flickering eyes. “I promise they won’t.”

 

Verfall let her guard drop slightly.

 

This was Joseph. 

 

“I’m always still me.” She admitted. “I just shut off parts of my brain to play my part.”

 

She lifted her head to look at him.

 

“I almost couldn’t recognize you.” Her eyes dropped. “You’ve grown.”

 

It was silent for a few seconds before Joseph let out a pleasant chuckle, one without mal intent. It was a sincere laugh of happiness.

 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I turned 38 just a few months ago and finally got promoted to Commander of STRIKE Team: Alpha.”

 

He pointed his thumb to the agent beside him.

 

“This is Luke Collins,” he pointed to the two other agents, “Sebastian Anderson, Anthony Lewis and the driver is Volya.”

 

“He’s russian, odd guy but a damn good cook.” Luke added, nodding towards the front of the truck.

 

Verfall nodded quietly in understanding. 

 

She cleared her throat, her eyes wandering to the gold ring on Joseph’s finger.

 

“Did you get married?” She asked softly.

 

Joseph looked down at his hand as if he’d just remembered the wedding band was there. 

 

He nodded with a small grin.

 

“I’ve got a badass wife back home, and my ten year old son who’s about half the height of you.” His gaze softened. “His name is James.” 

 

James.

 

She never thought Joseph would be the sentimental type.

 

Then she tilted her head, brows furrowing. 

 

“Why are you here?” She asked. “You have a family. . .a home. So why. . .?” 

 

She trailed off and Joseph’s smile dropped into a little grimace.

 

“After you. . .fell, and, well, you know who crashed into the Arctic, Dr. Schaffer took me. I wasn’t fully willing but I went along when he told me you were still alive.” He shook his head. “I trained for some time, made a name for myself as the fastest excelling HYDRA agent. Worked at a restaurant on the side. Few years passed and I finally had enough rank to see you but not interact with you. Then, Dr. Schaffer promoted me, gave me this-“

 

He flipped a circular device in his hand.

 

Verfall couldn’t help but stiffen.

 

“-and promptly disappeared.”

 

Verfall blinked several times, digesting the information.

 

“He’s gone? He left?” She breathed, unable to hide the disbelief in her voice.

 

“Yeah. No one’s been able to find him, although I’m sure Zola is dead set on killing him.” He eyed her with relief. “I’m glad he promoted me before he made a mess. The other guy who wanted this position- his name is Nikolai- isn’t exactly nice or humane.”

 

Verfall knew what he meant. The only handlers that counted as handlers were Dr. Schaffer, Dr. Zola, and now Joseph. There were some self-proclaimed agents who went around beating Winter just because they could. Not many of them tried to touch Verfall, since Winter usually punched straight through them with his metal arm. And they couldn’t even punish him for it- Dr. Zola had clearly said she was off limits.

 

She tried not to wonder why the man seemed to care.

 

“Okay.” She nodded slightly. “That’s good.”

 

Winter shifted in his seat, his head still pressed against her shoulder. He was shivering, the metal plates to his arm shifting as he clenched and unclenched his fist subconsciously. 

 

Verfall gently placed her hand in his, letting the cold metal tighten around her fingers. She winced at his strength, but remained quiet as she maneuvered her other hand around his shoulder.

 

“He okay?” The agent to Joseph’s left- Sebastian- asked curiously.

 

Verfall stiffened.

 

“It’s not a memory.” She said immediately. “Just a dream.”

 

Sebastian held his hands up in surrender.

 

“Hey, hey it’s alright. I get nightmares too.” He replied.

 

Verfall slowly relaxed.

 

They were an odd bunch, the weirdest agents she’d probably met in awhile. Their complete indifference towards the fact she was dangerous was. . .rare, and they spoke to her as if she was a person.

 

It was weird, uncomfortable, but somehow relieving all at the same time.

 

“You’re an idiot, Seb.” Anthony said beside him. “She doesn’t want him to be wiped.”

 

He gestured to his head and Sebastian scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

 

“We ain’t going to though.” He said and Luke raised an eyebrow.

 

“It’s mandatory after missions.” He countered. “Did you even read the debrief packet on handling the Soldier?”

 

Verfall looked between them, grip tightening around Winter in a protective manner.

 

Joseph noticed her discomfort and the possible anger boiling beneath her skin. He kicked Luke’s ankle, shaking his head at Anthony.

 

“Ow, man, seriously?!” Luke shrieked as he grabbed his foot.

 

“Your fault.” Anthony shrugged with a small smirk.

 

Anthony and Sebastian snickered at Luke who huffed, pursing his lips into a pout as he rubbed his foot through his combat boot.

 

Verfall turned her attention back to Winter, who’d slowly moved to curl into her side. She leaned her head against his, lowering her gaze to her hands.

 

Time seemed to pass faster than, as she lost herself in a thousand yard stare. She could still hear the chatter coming from the now rambunctious agents- the bump of the rocky road which slowly grew smooth.

 

She came back to her surroundings when Winter’s head lifted. His grip on her hand was still there but looser, rifle at his side. He straightened, eyes alert as he looked at her.

 

“Permission to sleep was granted.” She blurted before he could ask.

 

The relief in his body was instant, his shoulders dropping, a small breath leaving his lips. He nodded curtly once, before looking ahead of him.

 

The truck screeched to a stop, and Joseph unlocked the backdoor, pushing it open to reveal a blonde haired agent, bright blue eyes gazing up at them.

 

“Добрый день!”

 

Good afternoon!

 

Volya grinned at them cheekily, and Luke high-fived him as he climbed inside.

 

Joseph turned to Verfall, showing his hand as he spun his circular device clockwise.

 

She felt a weight lift off her shoulders even though she couldn’t really feel a change.

 

“Make sure nobody sees you.” Joseph reminded them as he held out a transmitter.

 

Winter took it, red and green lights blinking.

 

“If something comes up, we’ll give you a rendezvous point. Otherwise, all you need to do is go to a secluded place nearby. We’ll handle it from there.”

 

He paused as Winter gazed at him.

 

“Compliance will be rewarded.”

 

Determination settled in Winter’s eyes at the phrase and Verfall felt herself stiffen up. 

 

“Affirmative.” They said together.

 

Winter stepped out of the truck with a heavy foot, metal arm shifting and clicking as he sauntered forwards. He looked like a menacing force, as Verfall took a step out of the truck as well.

 

She looked both ways for witnesses, before walking casually towards her partner. They entered a dark alleyway, slipping into the shadows as they came across a back entrance. Verfall activated her abilities, white wisps covering the lock. Metal dust fluttered to the ground as the wisps dissipated. She pushed the door open quietly, the door screeching from disuse.

 

Winter entered.

 

Verfall shut the door behind him.

 

It was silent inside, so quiet she would hear a pin drop. And that was exactly what she heard. Winter pressed himself to the wall as Verfall peaked around the corner. A pin was rolling across the ground, toward the opposite direction.

 

A brown haired man holding a stack of boxes huffed with annoyance as he grumbled under his breath, reaching for the pin. He picked it up and placed it onto a desk before climbing up a set of stairs.

 

Verfall nodded her head at the man who continued upwards.

 

They remained quiet, listening as he climbed one set of stairs, then another, and another. She counted them as a few minutes passed.

 

Winter adjusted his rifle as he stalked towards the stairs, climbing up them, three at a time. Verfall stepped beside him, adjusting the molecules as they walked to ensure complete silence. It was invigorating, having her abilities and being able to use them with such freedom. She’d missed the power to create anything, even if she did hate it most of the time.

 

They stopped at the sixth flight of stairs, right as the door shut behind the other man. She pushed the door open, entering first as Winter remained in the stairway hall.

 

Bright tendrils sprinted through the air and looked as though it attached itself to the back of the man’s head. She twisted and pulled his brainstem, causing brain circuits to break. The fog disappeared and Verfall rushed forwards to catch the man before he fell.

 

She searched him for a wallet. 

 

She flipped it open. 

 

His ID, Lee Harvey Oswald, stared back at her.

 

She shut his wallet, satisfied, before placing it carefully back in his pocket. She stood, clicking her tongue twice. 

 

Winter padded into the room, his eyes dropping to the man unconscious on the floor before focusing on the open window. Verfall assumed Oswald had opened it to let some air in.

 

Winter knelt in front of the window, hiding his face against the wall, forcing his metal arm to remain hidden. He set up his rifle, adjusted his grip, and waited.

 

There had been cheering and shouting since the moment they’d driven into the area. 

 

Verfall crouched blankly beside the unconscious man, grabbing him and moving him beside the window, letting his hair poke out slightly. 

 

A minute passed before a line of sleek black cars with no hood drove through the crowd at a slow pace. If the man wasn’t in public, Verfall would have suspected this was a trap. If it was, she would’ve deduced it to be a terrible trap.

 

Winter’s body remained relaxed as he leaned forwards. He pulled the trigger three quick times, the recoil almost unnoticeable. It was loud, banging three times.

 

Screams erupted from the crowd and Winter clicked his tongue twice. Verfall responded with a curt nod and he dropped his rifle, exiting the room. Verfall carefully avoided the window as she placed the gun in front of Oswald’s feet, disintegrating any blemishes caused by Winter and herself.

 

She quickly opened the door to the stairwell, looking down the staircase. Winter wasn’t there, and Verfall’s eyes flickered across the rails. There was a bent piece of metal and she assumed he jumped. 

 

She climbed over the railing, before letting herself fall.

 

A burst of white energy exploded from her hands as the railing was put back into place. She hit the ground, landing on all fours, one leg more out than the other.

 

She looked up as the door opened.

 

Joseph stared at her for a second, before throwing his thumb behind him.

 

“We gotta go.” He said.

 

Verfall stood, turning to the cracked tiled floor. She twisted her fingers, the cement mending itself. Joseph watched before he pulled the circular device from his pocket, twisting it anti-clockwise.

 

“I’m. . .” He looked away, clenching his hand around the device. “I’m sorry.” 

 

Verfall shook her head as they exited the building. The military truck drove in front of them and they jumped into the back of the truck before they passed by. 

 

Joseph shut the door, locking it.

 

Metal scraped against metal and Verfall stepped towards Winter as he patted his arm against the bench. Joseph slouched into his seat as he ran a hand through his hair.

 

Sebastian and Luke were sitting on the bench, Volya beside them. 

 

“I’m Volya, by the way.” He introduced with a small wave.

 

Winter’s gaze was cold as he stared at him. Verfall’s eyes were blank as she observed him.

 

“Okayyy,” he awkwardly turned back to Sebastian, “anyway, my neighbors, they had these huge malamutes and they brought them to the еде- uh- potluck?- yeah. I cooked so much beef it was ridiculous and-“

 

Verfall’s eyes flicked to Joseph.

 

He looked back.

 

“You posed.” He said. “When you dropped.”

 

Verfall blinked.

 

Anthony grinned beside them.

 

“No way! Greatest weapon of all and you’re a poser!”

Chapter 54: Fifty Three

"What hurts more? Leaving in silence, or leaving with a goodbye?”

Cairo, Egypt.

December, 1977

SHE LET OUT A QUIET breath as a silver knife glided through the air, narrowly missing her neck. She skidded back, flipping her dagger with her hand, before sprinting forwards. She kicked up her leg, spinning as she tried to embed her knife into Winter’s torso. He blocked her leg and drove his dagger towards her stomach. She slashed her knife in an arc, metal crashing against metal. She pushed forwards and Winter threw his metal fist at her head. She ducked, losing leverage on her knife, the weapon embedding itself into her thigh. Her dagger stabbed into his arm. He stared at her, and she returned the look, before they both ripped out the blades unceremoniously.

 

She kept her stance wide, her grip firm as blood dripped down her black tactical pants. Her eyes narrowed as Winter lunged forwards powerfully. 

 

Verfall swiftly avoided his blade, his metal arm whirring and clicking with every swing and stretch of his body. She sent a right hook to his side, stopping it half way as she dropped her blade. She caught it with her right hand as she drove her left fist into his stomach. 

 

No sound escaped his mouth as he stumbled back. He flipped the blade in his hand, changing grip as he sliced at her face with the dagger. Verfall ducked, kicking out his feet as she swung her body in a circle. Winter jumped and landed in a crouch as she pushed herself into a lunge, leaning forwards. 

 

Her blade was to his throat, and his to hers. The metal of his dagger scraped her skin, enough that she could feel it but didn’t draw blood. She mirrored his movements before she unclasped her hand, letting her knife clatter.

 

Winter nodded curtly once, a small flicker of pride towards her abilities travelling between his eyes.

 

He scooped up her blade and handed it to her. She took the dagger by it’s handle as they both stood to their feet.

 

“Holy shit.” She heard an unfamiliar voice remark.

 

“Language!” Another voice replied sternly.

 

The bleeding pair turned, eyes zeroed in on the entrance of their training room. Standing in front of the glass double doors was Joseph, followed by a shorter man that resembled him.

 

Verfall sheathed her dagger as Winter tucked his knife behind his combat boot. He stood to attention as Joseph drew closer to their sparring mat.

 

Over the last three missions they’d gone on, Joseph had become a constant in their lives. He was there when they awoke, keeping them warm by bringing an unauthorized heater into the room. He was there when they moved from their cell to their training area to wherever they needed to go. 

 

He was also there to stop groups of agents from cornering Winter and beating him because they were on a power trip.

 

So, Winter’s curiosity had turned into respect and, she daresay, protectiveness. 

 

It was good to have Joseph around, but he’d also aged as the years passed. Verfall knew he would have to retire from his life of combat sooner or later.

 

“Ver, Winter,” Joseph greeted- he’d also grown comfortable with the Soldier- “at ease.”

 

Their shoulders loosened and Verfall let her hand rest on her hip as she observed the man beside him, watching his relaxed form, so similar to Joseph’s.

 

Winter examined the newcomer as well, scrutinizing him under his seemingly normal gaze. The man turned his head, keeping Winter’s stare whilst exuding calm. Slowly, Winter’s eyes lowered and moved to the side of his head.

 

So Winter deemed him worthy of living, it seemed.

 

“This is James Rumlow.” He started. “He’s been training with STRIKE team: Alpha, per request of Colonel Vasily Karpov.”

 

Verfall straightened at the name.

 

Dr. Zola had passed away and turned into a room of computer material sometime during her time in her Chamber. Their handler had changed to a young Russian man who was probably the strictest man she’d ever met. 

 

Colonel Karpov wasn’t kind, but wasn’t manipulative either. Most of the times he was indifferent, and treated the pair as weapons, nothing more and nothing less.

 

There was some sort of mutual understanding and respect.

 

Winter’s eyes flicked back and forth unsurely.

 

“Permission to speak?” He asked hesitantly.

 

There was a flicker of empathy that reflected in James’s eyes, Verfall noted.

 

“Permission granted.” Joseph nodded.

 

“You. But. . .smaller?” Winter’s head tilted with confusion.

 

Joseph blinked, unsuspecting of the question. 

 

He didn’t laugh, like most agents did when Winter showed genuine confusion to obvious things. They weren’t obvious to him anymore- were they supposed to be when he didn’t know how to be human anymore?

 

Verfall blinked.

 

Were they not obvious to her anymore?

 

She’d forgotten some things- like apologizing or thanking people, since weapons weren’t supposed to. She’d forgotten how to do things without being ordered, but she supposed that was inevitable.

 

“Yes.” Joseph’s voice had softened. “This is my son. I would appreciate it if you don’t kill him like you almost killed Volya.”

 

Winter’s lips pressed tightly together.

 

He wasn’t supposed to remember lots of things but some things Joseph reminded him of because Winter would stumble upon the memory first, and a confused Winter usually meant death.

 

Verfall remembered that memory clearly, not that she’d ever been wiped before. 

 

They’d been in the middle of a mission, trekking towards some vacation home in the woods and Volya had been incessantly talking to the point Winter had turned around and attempted to strangle him.

 

He’d been erratic and unstable at the time. Even Verfall had avoided speaking to him then.

 

“Affirmative.” Winter looked down at his feet, looking guilty.

 

Verfall took a careful step forward.

 

“You’re. . .important.” She nodded her head towards James. “So. . .he’s important.”

 

Joseph’s lips quirked upwards.

 

“Yes.” He ruffled his son’s hair.

 

The younger man huffed, rearranging his locks as he shot his father a glare.

 

James turned, stepping onto the training mat and Joseph watched his son carefully as he approached the pair, standing only a foot away from them.

 

Winter’s metal arm whirred and clicked as he stared at him. To anyone else it would’ve looked threatening. To Verfall he almost looked. . .uneasy, no, maybe- concerned?

 

She slowly noticed James’s hands were clenched into fists, not because he wanted to hit either one of them but because he was nervous- scared? She wouldn’t have been surprised.

 

Slowly, Winter raised his metal arm.

 

Joseph resisted the urge to unholster his gun.

 

Winter took a little step forward before petting the top of James’s head. Two light taps, just like Joseph did whenever Winter was in pain or discomfort. 

 

Joseph let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

 

James looked uncertain but let his shoulders remain as relaxed as possible before reaching up and grabbing Winter’s metal hand, removing it from his head.

 

“Hello.” He muttered quietly.

 

Winter blinked, before pulling his hand away, as if he didn’t know why he’d moved.

 

“You have a mission as well.” Joseph paused. “James is going to lead it.”

 

He fished out a circular device from his pocket. He turned it clockwise and Verfall moved knowingly, clearing up the blood that trickled over the floor. She drew closer to Winter, gently grabbing his arm and stitching the wound back together.

 

Winter didn’t react to the pain, only staring ahead of him.

 

She repaired her own skin and flesh before spinning on her heel to return her gaze to Joseph. He spun the device anti-clockwise, before beckoning them to follow.

 

“Remember what I said about respect, James.” Joseph said sternly as they exited the training room and entered the hall. “You treat the Soldier and the Weapon exactly like you’d treat any other comrade.”

 

James sighed.

 

“I got it, Dad. Don’t do anything that can put the team in danger and-“ he started.

 

“They are a part of the team.” Joseph finished. 

 

Verfall watched the pair converse.

 

“If any agent that isn’t your superior tries to lay a hand on either one of them, you beat them the hell up. Make them an example.” Joseph continued.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve told me a thousand times now.” James grunted.

 

Joseph let out a small chuckle.

 

“Alright alright, I’ll stop.” He grinned.

 

They entered another room, Joseph hanging by the entrance. 

 

James kept the door open as he grabbed each of their uniforms, handing it to them silently. Winter moved robotically, gripping the sides of his uniform and tugging it over his head. Verfall mirrored his movements, slipping her arm through her bulky white sleeve. 

 

Joseph stepped inside, adjusting the straps on Verfall’s uniform. She remained as still as possible.

 

“Like this. Here. Don’t make it suffocating.” 

 

James hummed in response as he tightened the straps over Winter’s shoulder and across his torso.

 

“Good, now get out of his way.” Joseph said firmly.

 

His son walked around Winter and stood at the entrance. Verfall sheathed her knives, the only weapons she’d started being permitted to use. She hadn’t drawn her gun once on any of their missions so Joseph had decided to get rid of them.

 

Winter on the other hand, strapped and holstered his array of guns and firearms. He turned to them, leaving his usual sniper rifle on the table.

 

“The target is CIA agent David Holden.” James informed clearly as they walked. “With his connections, and CIA ties, there’s no telling what he’s up to. He’s definitely got something up his sleeve though.”

 

“HYDRA deems him a threat.” Joseph cut in. “Make it clean. We don’t want to make his hotel a slaughterhouse.”

 

Winter tilted his head back to Verfall who blinked in response. His gaze remained on her and she stared back. She shook her head, the slightest motion, and Winter frowned.

 

They came to a slow stop.

 

Joseph had waved at James to be quiet as he noticed the tension rising in the hall.

 

Verfall was relentless, refusing to back down as Winter’s eyes gradually narrowed. They stayed like that for a few seconds before Winter took a step forward. She flinched habitually, not because he’d hurt her in any way, but because she’d lost, her eyes dropping to the side of his face in surrender.

 

There were times they argued with gestures and expressions. It could be mundane things, like who got to sleep on their cot, or who was on the right or left side of their handler. Other times it was vital things, like who would make the kill on their missions

 

Verfall would have to kill their target.

 

“Uh-“ James’s calmness had turned into nervousness. 

 

“You leave them alone when they get like that.” Joseph said as they resumed walking, exiting the building. “You’ll get sucker punched in the face if you get too close.” 

 

“Noted.” James sighed. “Your rules and regulations are so different from the debrief packets.”

 

He ran a hand through his hair, and Joseph paused in his footsteps, Winter almost running into him.

 

“Do you want to beat them with electrified batons?” He scolded. “Do you think team missions will be successful if you go around correcting behavior by beating the shit out of them?”

 

James immediately shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know that.” James gnawed on the inside of his cheek as they approached an inconspicuous Jeep Wrangler with tinted windows. “I just wish they’d make your regulations the actual ones.”

 

Joseph’s gaze softened.

 

“I do too.”

 

He opened the passenger door and stepped to the side. He waved Verfall over and she climbed into the vehicle, sitting with her back straight and her fingers gently pressed against her sides.

 

Joseph slid into the backseat of the car with Winter, who stiffened at the cramped space. It reminded him too much of the chair, Verfall knew that. She was only glad Joseph was there to distract him as he handed him a cube with several different colors on each side.

 

“This is a Rubik’s cube. Try to get all the matching colors on one side and don’t break it, alright Win?” Joseph instructed.

 

Winter took the box, examining it before twisting and turning it carefully. 

 

James backed out of the parking lot, driving out of the area and onto a paved street.

 

They were in the middle of a desert, Verfall realized, as her eyes remained forward.

 

“Open the glove compartment.” James ordered as he drove. “There’s a file in there. You just need to see the photo of the target.”

 

Verfall grabbed the file and flipped it open, eyes tracking the target’s face before turning and showing it to Winter. He looked up for a split second then nodded and she took the picture away.

 

“Great, now put it back.” James said as he took a right turn. 

 

She placed it back in the glove compartment carefully, shutting it closed.

 

Verfall looked at Winter through the rearview mirror. He was engrossed with the cube in his hand, almost in a completely different world. She shifted her attention back in front of her.

 

She’d greet James another time.

 

There were three tall mass pyramids they drove past, but Verfall barely noticed it.

 

“Joseph?” She asked hesitantly.

 

He glanced at her, the wrinkles besides his eyes creasing.

 

“Do we refer to James as sir?” 

 

Winter looked up then, nodding in silent agreement.

 

James scowled at the question.

 

“No. For now you can call me James. But when my old man retires-“ Joseph let out a small ‘hey!’ “- you can call me Commander Rumlow.”

 

Joseph exhaled.

 

“That’s if you get the position.” 

 

Verfall’s lips twitched as James rolled his eyes.

 

The drive grew comfortably silent.

 

She vaguely wondered how Luke and Anthony were doing. They were both settled with families, somewhere, last she heard from them. 

 

Volya had returned to Russia, having to attend his neighbor's malamute's funerals or something. He stayed in the Russian branch after that.

 

Sebastian was still somewhere at the base in America.

 

She wasn’t sure what he was up to.

 

About half an hour passed before they made it to their destination, an old warehouse building that looked completely abandoned.

 

“Sorry,” James said as he unbuckled his seatbelt, “you gotta walk to the hotel two streets down. It’s the only tall and lit building in the area and parking there is, well, a bad idea.”

 

Joseph held his hand out towards Winter, which awaited for the Rubik’s cube he’d given him.

 

Winter hesitated, then outright refused, holding onto the cube as if his life depended on it.

 

Joseph pressed his lips into a thin line, keeping his hand out. 

 

“I’ll give it right back to you once you finish your mission.” He reasoned.

 

Winter swallowed.

 

“Promise?” His voice somehow sounded small.

 

Verfall unbuckled her seatbelt quietly as Joseph nodded. Winter gave him the cube with a sorrowful look as he exited the vehicle. 

 

Verfall waited, then turned to look at Joseph. He took out the circular device in his hand, spinning it. She let her eyes wander to the cube- the sides were almost done, each matching colors put carefully together. 

 

She stepped out of the car, quickly following James and Winter as he walked to the exit of the warehouse, pointing to- well, the only tall and lit building in the area. 

 

The pair looked up at the sky.

 

It was dark, way past midnight if she was to guess.

 

That gave them a tactical advantage and she silently approved James for choosing the right time to move forward with his operation. 

 

“Get in from the back of the building. He’ll be on the first floor, room 102- it should be quick.” His voice was firm, the playfulness in it gone. “No witnesses.”

 

Verfall blinked, a weird twist of guil- 

 

The Weapon does not feel.

 

They nodded curtly, before disappearing into an alleyway. Verfall walked a pace slower than Winter as he led the way, his head horizontal to the ground.

 

“Mission status: slow. Request to quicken speed?” Verfall said blankly.

 

Winter nodded once.

 

There was really no need for HYDRA to send both of them out at once. The only reason why they did was because Winter was a violent mess without her. 

 

Verfall was no different either- she’d snapped, killing a few agents before Winter was thrown into her cell. She hadn’t meant to, she didn’t know why she’d become so aggressive, but she did know the other agents who’d tried to corner her were shot point-blank in the head by Joseph.

 

She sprinted forwards, her footsteps surprisingly quiet as she made it to the building across the hotel. It was bright, luxurious, and she ducked her head as she crossed into an alleyway. 

 

As she rounded to the back exit, the door opened, and Verfall stared as the man dropped the bag of garbage in his hand. He opened his mouth, maybe to scream, before a knife embedded itself in between his head, narrowly missing her head.

 

She clicked her tongue twice.

 

Two loud clicks could be heard and she nodded curtly without looking back, pushing the body out of her way as she entered the building. She slipped into the hall, eyes scanning the room numbers labeled.

 

110. . .108. . .106. . .104

 

She stopped, activating her abilities and dissolving the lock inside the doorknob. She pressed her ear against the wood. She could hear breathing, and a faint heartbeat. She pushed the door open, letting it close behind her as she leaned against the small closet area concealing her from the main bedroom.

 

There was a TV blaring.

 

“Look, all I’m saying is Tony could do a better job, you know, making this peace permanent. Let it work.” The target sighed.

 

Verfall waited patiently.

 

She caught a glimpse of his arm as he pointed a remote to the TV.

 

“No no, just. . .I think- something came up. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? Let him know though.” 

 

Then, silence.

 

Verfall let her shoulders relax. He knew she was there. That was interesting. She unsheathed her dagger, flipping it once in her hand before throwing it into the bedroom. She heard him whip out a gun. White tendrils circled the knife and it stopped in midair.

 

She appeared, blonde hair falling into her face as she stared at him. 

 

The target was standing, a gun drawn and his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes were focused on the dagger, disbelief travelling between his gaze. 

 

“Who are you?” There was a small tremor in his voice.

 

Verfall twisted her fingertips and the gun in his hand splashed onto the ground- water.

 

The fear in his eyes was almost immediate and she felt that something in her stomach before she let the dagger fly, slamming into the center of his forehead. 

 

Once his heartbeat stopped, she removed the knife and sheathed it, blood and all. She stitched the wound until it was reminiscent of a bullet wound that had the bullet fished out of it.

 

She exited the place through the hotel room’s wide window, landing on the ground with a crouch, one leg kicked out and her hand placed carefully in front of her.

 

Winter appeared around the alleyway, clicking his tongue twice in greeting. Verfall stood, returning the sound as he drew close. He jerked his head towards the warehouse they’d arrived in.

 

She followed him.

 

“Mission status?” He questioned.

 

“Complete. Pending for analysis.” She blinked. “Inferred report: success. Probability of reward: high.” 

 

He nodded as they leisurely walked the two streets down to their pick-up point.

 

James was standing at the entrance, looking almost worried. When they arrived he deflated with relief.

 

Joseph cleared his throat.

 

“Have some faith, James.” He said and James replied with a huff.

 

They climbed back into their vehicle.

 

“Mission report.” James ordered.

 

“Mission status: successful.” Winter replied curtly, his eyes focused on Joseph’s Rubik’s cube. 

 

When it didn’t come, Verfall looked back at the Commander in the rear view mirror, staring pointedly. Joseph noticed her stare and finally realized a few minutes later. 

 

He pulled out the multicolored cube.

 

“Good job.” He smiled, handing him the box.

 

Winter took it gratefully.

 

Joseph looked between him and Verfall.

 

“Today’s the last day you’ll see me.” He announced quietly as James drove onto the road. “By the time you’re taken out for your next mission I’ll be gone.”

 

Winter stopped fiddling with his cube.

 

Verfall blinked slowly, her heart aching.

 

“I’ll-“ Winter swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’ll forget.”

 

Joseph turned to him.

 

“I- I- I’ll forget. . .you.” He flinched, as if expecting a blow. 

 

Their mission handler smiled softly.

 

“Don’t worry. Ver will remember for you.” He nodded his head to Verfall.

 

Winter’s eyes flicked to her. The anxiety in his eyes started to dissipate as he acknowledged the fact she could remember and she would for him.

 

“Okay.” Winter whispered.

 

“It is advisable you do not leave.” Verfall’s voice came out quiet. 

 

She looked back at him, hesitant.

 

“Please.” 

 

Joseph shook his head, pausing.

 

“I can’t. My body is getting too old for this.” He tilted his head towards his son. “You keep James safe. And his kids after him, and however long they have to be with HYDRA.”

 

Have to. . .have to?

 

Verfall turned back as she looked ahead.

 

She nodded curtly.

Chapter 55: Fifty Four

"Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Brooklyn, New York.

May, 1979

THE MISSION HAD BEEN SIMPLE: the target’s parents would be on their way back from stealing vital intel from HYDRA’s base in New York. The target would arrive home from school and expect his parents to be home. STRIKE team: Delta would intercept the runaway agents, giving Verfall and Winter enough time to effectively eliminate the target and return to base for a long nap in their cryostasis chamber.

 

The plan was simple- immoral- but simple.

 

Verfall had- had felt something, when James had paused as he read the target’s name and his age. She also felt her stomach twist when he showed them the young boy's face. But she ignored all the feelings brewing in her chest because failure meant punishment.

 

And nothing good came out of punishments.

 

So they moved out, Winter deciding to take the kill because- because. . .she didn’t know. It wasn’t out of malicious intent, she was sure about that, but she couldn’t clarify what his motives were, after all, most weapons weren’t supposed to have motives.

 

Maybe she should’ve realized he was malfunctioning way before the mission even happened.

 

The kill had been easy. 

 

The boy had no skill in self-defense, no common sense, and no idea that opening the door without looking through the peephole could be as dangerous as his parents probably warned him of. He was a level zero, at best, and the small furrow of his eyebrows, marking the confusion on his face, was barely a shield to the knife that pierced his heart.

 

Verfall had cleaned the blood- cleaned the whole living room, leaving natural dust bugs to leave no abnormal trace. 

 

And they were done. They’d be able to go home and leave.

 

But, well, the malfunction happened before Verfall could stop him. 

 

One second Winter was dragging their target’s corpse to their mission handler, a seven year old boy named Ethan Parker, the next second he’d abandoned the little body, sprinting forwards towards a young child with brunette curls holding an older woman’s hand, a single name leaving his lips-

 

“Becca.” 

 

Verfall had grabbed the corpse and hid it with the few seconds she had before darting after him, terror seizing her heart. Winter was down the dark street, looking back and forth with confused eyes. Verfall swallowed nervously as the sun dipped under the horizon.

 

It was not night but it also wasn’t day. 

 

If they weren’t careful both of them would be punished and every witness on the street, in their cars, in their houses, would have to be killed. Verfall ignored the crackling coming from her transmitter, her eyes focused on Winter as he tried to look for the girl who’d seemingly disappeared.

 

Verfall caught the sight of his combat boot twisting into an alleyway and she quickly sprinted towards him. She entered the alleyway as Winter examined his surroundings. He seemed to have a destination in mind as he shook his head, heading down another street towards a worn down building.

 

Her heart stuttered to a stop in her chest.

 

This place. . .this street, the lamps, the tall but old buildings-

 

This was- 

 

Home.

 

They’d sent them on a mission to Brooklyn goddamn New York to test the Soldier’s memories because the place was so goddamn familiar.

 

She could even see her old apartment- worn down- but hers.

 

Verfall shoved her anger away.

 

She shook her head as Winter darted across the street almost effortlessly, grabbing onto a fire escape and climbing it with fluidity, as if he’d done it thousands and thousands of times. 

 

Which they had.

 

They’d had practice climbing ropes that shouldn’t have been able to hold their weight. But it was different, more human-like, more childish, more willing. 

 

Verfall breathed silently as she rushed up the black creaky staircases as well, climbing from rail to rail as she caught a glimpse of Winter standing on top of the roof. She carefully stepped beside him, her movements slow and calculating.

 

He turned, as if just noticing she was there the first time.

 

His eyes were unfocused, like a bleary cloud threatening to let loose rain. His shoulders were tense, drawn inwards as he scanned her, looking so incredibly confused.

 

“Lucy?” He whispered, his voice hoarse.

 

Verfall froze, the hand on her dagger loosening, her shoulders dropping. 

 

He was not Winter but not yet James. He seemed to have been remembering younger, childhood memories, and then he recognized her. Verfall, well, she couldn’t contain herself whenever he managed to remember her.

 

He wouldn’t treat her like another weapon or belonging, but a person, like they’d both once been. He wouldn’t think of her as an object to protect just because he felt oddly drawn to her.

 

She padded forwards quietly.

 

“Lucy.” He repeated, a little more certain. “I- I knew you- before- this- there was- a before?”

 

She swallowed thickly, her eyes watering with tears which she struggled to hold.

 

“Yes.” She kept her voice still. 

 

Winter blinked, stumbling back as he gripped his head.

 

Verfall rushed forwards, grasping onto his metal arm gently before he could fall. She gently moved him into a sitting position, letting herself grow comfortable beside him.

 

The sun dipped deeper under the horizon.

 

“There was- I was chasing something- someone. I think- cause Ma always told me to keep an eye on Becca ‘cause she’s too small to be runnin’ ‘round like that and she might run into a busy street or somethin’ like Stevie since Stevie always got himself in trouble cause-a-the bullies, ya know, and he kept runnin’ into the street.” Winter blurted, the words pouring out of his mouth uncontrollably. “Then- no- it was- you? Running- with me and I was- you called me- Blue Eyes? Then that- that idiot- smoked in your face- scared ya on the train- the train. . .”

 

Ver- Lucy couldn’t stop the tears trickling down the sides of her cheeks. She quickly wiped them before Winter could realize she was crying.

 

“I knew you. Before.” He repeated, tilting his head. “We should- we need to- go home. But I was running away from home for- for-“

 

He stammered, eyebrows furrowing with frustration as he struggled to remember all the things he’d recalled in the short time he caught a glimpse of his memories. 

 

Lucy flinched when she heard the sound of police sirens nearing the building. Police cars circled the place- familiar ones- and agents started to run inside, evacuating the little number of residents inside.

 

The HYDRA agents would make up some excuse and the citizens would listen because they’d somehow integrated into the government.

 

Her heart palpitated in her chest as a dangerous gleam flickered between his eyes. He turned to her sharply, eyes wide and panicked.

 

“I- I can’t remember- and- I don’t- don’t know where Becca is. Becca- need to know- Becca-“ his nails dug into her skin, drawing blood as his metal arm whirred and clicked “-didn’t meanta lose her- she got school-“

 

She stiffened as the door to the roof opened, revealing a group of agents, including Commander Rumlow- James- and his comrades.

 

Lucy didn’t know their names- maybe she did- no, she didn’t know. They might have been new, since the last team had gotten severely injured- at least, from what she could remember- by a grenade.

 

They circled the pair, guns lifted and pointed at their faces. 

 

Lucy curled protectively over Winter as he struggled to get full sentences out. He was too out of it to even realize there were people on the roof with him.

 

She scanned each agent, the amount of weapons they had, how fast she could kill them just by their height.

 

“Lower your weapons.” James ordered sternly.

 

No one moved.

 

“I said lower them!” He shouted.

 

Finally, one of the agents lowered his weapon, letting his rifle lay unthreatening by his side.

 

Lucy observed him, eyes widening.

 

It was Steve.

 

Logically, she knew that was impossible. Steve was dead, it’d been confirmed by news articles, by everyone. But the younger man looked so much like Steve. He had his bright blue eyes, his blonde hair, even the way he held himself. 

 

If she’d passed him on the street back in the ‘40’s she might’ve accidentally called out to him in greeting.

 

Winter’s eyes drew upwards as he felt her stiffen against him. He followed her gaze and his breath hitched in his throat. He sniffled, wiping his eyes.

 

“Steve?” He whispered.

 

James turned his head to look at the man beside him distastefully.

 

He looked older than James, if Lucy really focused on their facial features. But it was hard to tell because his face kept bleeding into Steve’s easy going grin.

 

Steve. . .

 

“Calm him down.” James finally said firmly. “Or you’re all dead.”

 

Lucy brought Winter closer into her chest distrustfully as the Steve lookalike slowly stepped forward, looking unsure but determined.

 

He got into a foot of range before Winter pulled out of Lucy’s grasp, holding onto the man’s leg like a lost child who’d finally been found. 

 

A strangled sound left Lucy’s lips. 

 

That wasn’t Steve. It was and it wasn’t. Not Steve-

 

Then the Steve lookalike lowered himself into a crouch, gently threading his hand through Winter’s hair. Lucy moved protectively, sitting to the left of Winter as she glared at the man.

 

His blue eyes turned to her and her glare slowly softened into something of disbelief. She felt her heart drum in her chest as the man’s lips pressed into a soft line.

 

Steve. . .

 

His hand reached out and Lu- Verfall flinched, dropping her head. 

 

She expected a blow- waiting for something- but instead he gently ran his hand through her hair, letting go of Winter who watched him calculatingly, ready to protect her at any given moment.

 

Even if his mind thought it really was Steve.

 

She hadn’t- no one had touched her since Dr. Schaffer- and- and he was gone so. . .she subconsciously pressed herself closer into his hand.

 

He was warm. 

 

“Let’s get you home.” He remarked softly.

 

The man’s voice wasn’t Steve’s but. . .but it didn’t matter. He was kind like Steve, tall like Steve, warm like Steve.

 

“But Becca-“ Winter whispered half-heartedly.

 

“-is home. Becca is home and we need to get you back there so you can take care of her.” He patted his head, standing to his full height. “But we’ll have to check you over for any injuries first, okay?”

 

Winter was on his feet in an instant, eagerly nodding his head. Verfall stood as well, trailing after him. 

 

The other agents finally lowered their weapons, watching tensely as the pair followed the blonde-haired man, towards the roof door.

 

James put a hand on the Steve lookalike’s chest when he came close, stopping him.

 

His eyes were narrowed.

 

“Alexander.” James said coldly.

 

Verfall stiffened at his hostile tone of voice. It confused her. 

 

“James.” The man- Alexander?- replied indifferently.

 

“Pierce, you and I both know who has higher clearance out on the field.” He stared. “Watch it.”

 

Alexander’s lips curled into a small smile, empty of amusement. Looking at him now he looked dangerous, eyes gleaming and so. . .manipulative.

 

As fast as his expression was deadly it was gone.

 

“It’s no one’s fault that they are both drawn to me, James.” He gazed at the man challengingly.

 

James turned away from him, tilting his head at Verfall. She padded forwards and Winter reluctantly moved to follow their mission handler. 

 

“I am their mission handler.” James warned.

 

Alexander stopped.

 

He tilted his head back, smiling warmly.

 

“Then I’ll just have to become their main handler.” He proclaimed before stepping down the stairs from the roof.

 

James’s eyes darkened and he turned to the rest of his agents.

 

“Find the target before the moles find him.” He ordered firmly.

 

“Right away, J.” An agent, his second in command, nodded before leading the group of agents down the steps.

 

The roof door shut with a clank.

 

Verfall shifted on her feet.

 

Winter seemed to notice the atmosphere grow more and more tense as he ducked his head, staring at his shoes like a child caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar.

 

“You ran after a child who wasn’t even,” he paused, frowning, “Becca, and completely botched this whole operation! C’mon Winter! I mean, are you still hung up on my father retiring? Guess what? He’s long gone!”

 

Winter flinched at his tone of voice, and Verfall clenched her jaw.

 

He was yelling at them for something Winter couldn’t even think of. He didn’t remember Joseph because he hadn’t stumbled upon the memory yet and James was-

 

James was being an asshole.

 

Verfall shuffled in front of Winter, arms crossed over her chest in a protective manner.

 

“Winter is not permitted to remember as they are malfunctions.” She said blankly. “He has malfunctioned and needs medical attention.”

 

James glowered angrily.

 

“I am not my father, Verfall. Don’t give me attitude.” He snapped, his hand dropping to the circular device clipped to his hip.

 

She drew back instinctively, head dipping low as she stepped closer to Winter, still in front of him. She smartly dropped the little attitude she’d allowed to bleed through, remaining silent as James ran a hand through his hair.

 

He let loose a frustrated huff.

 

“Look, I’m- the blonde, Alexander Pierce, wants to take Colonel Karpov’s position. He’s not simple like the Colonel, nor is he decisive.”  James explained rapidly. “He’s a growing politician who knows his way with words and he wants control of the two most powerful things HYDRA has. I don’t want it to happen.”

 

Verfall ducked her head in a tiny, anxious nod.

 

Winter fiddled with the sleeve to his right arm. His metal arm whirred and clicked in a pattern that sounded shameful.

 

“Okay, alright.” He sighed. “I lost my temper. That was my fault. And that doesn’t make me yelling at you okay.”

 

He heaved a breath.

 

“I’m sorry.” He seemed to contemplate on saying something before shaking his head. “I’m sorry but we gotta go. Okay? Come on.”

 

He clenched his fist, his lips trembling.

 

A gold ring gleamed on his neck.

 

Joseph’s ring.

 

“Let’s go home.”

Chapter 56: Fifty Five

"Paranoia is reality seen on a finer scale.”

Siberia, Russia.

May, 1981

WHEN VERFALL GREW AWARE of her surroundings after being pulled from cryostasis, she’d felt the familiar stab of a needle at the side of her neck and she’d gone completely limp, eyes falling shut. It wasn’t her place to protest, but she did think it was pointless and counterproductive to take her out of cryo, only to put her back to sleep. Nevertheless, she’d awoken a second time, on something soft, on a blanket.

 

She kept her eyes closed, carefully feeling for the body next to her. She brushed her fingertips against familiar metal plates and she let herself grow relaxed. Winter seemed to be fast asleep- they must’ve given him a higher knockout dosage.

 

“Ты проснулся.”

 

You’re awake.

 

Verfall straightened at the familiar, toneless, voice. 

 

She snapped her eyes open, sitting to attention as best she could. She held her hands out, palm open. She noticed they were trembling. Her body was afraid, she realized, and a warm hand gently tapped her wrist.

 

She lowered them as her head tilted upwards.

 

Colonel Karpov was crouched in front of her, a soft smile on his lips. She knew it was genuine because he’d never once faked his emotions in front of the pair. He was always firm, blunt and strict. Not that anyone would believe the stoic man could possibly be soft.

 

He was wearing clothes that looked soft- fleece.

 

“Непринужденно.”

 

At ease.

 

He looked to Winter who had a blanket draped over him. Verfall blinked as she realized the blanket was draped over her too. She gently tugged the fabric off of her, wrapping it around Winter instead. They were on the ground beside a coffee table and a couch. 

 

Her head swiveled to the side as she examined her new environment. Across the coffee table was a TV and a fireplace, cozily lit. There was a small difference in level from the entrance, which had racks for shoes and a little closet for coats. She turned her head around to see the living room separate into a kitchen, a hall, and a dining room.

 

They were in a home.

 

Karpov stood, moving away from the pair and towards the kitchen. She heard tinkering and the soft sound of plates clicking together. A few minutes passed before he poked his head out of the dining room.

 

She assumed the places were connected by the little opening between them.

 

“Иди сюда.”

 

Come here.

 

He spoke softly and Verfall stood to her feet, walking forwards quickly.

 

He pointed to the table, where a tall glass of water and a bowl of soup awaited her. She pulled a chair back, sitting down slowly. There was another set besides hers, and her eyes grew curious as she looked up at him.

 

“Твоя миссия-защитить меня. Тут он отдыхает. Ты будешь дежурить вместе с Зимой.”

 

Your mission is to protect me. This is a vacation home. You will take watch with Winter.

 

Karpov slid into the seat across from her.

 

“Я собирался приготовить тебе что-нибудь еще. Но вы не сможете это переварить.”

 

I was going to cook you something else. But, you won’t be able to digest it.

 

He said as he waved his hand towards the bowl.

 

“Есть.”

 

Eat.

 

He ordered.

 

Verfall grabbed the spoon beside her plate, trying to hold it correctly. She spun it in her hand like a dagger, thought of 17 different ways she could utilize it to kill a person, before gripping it tightly with her hand.

 

She stared down at it blankly, dumbfounded by the way she held it like a toddler, four fingers around the silver with her thumb tucked over the top.

 

Like she held a blade.

 

She tilted her head when the sound of whirring metal and moving fabric caught her attention. 

 

Karpov gazed at her grip before standing and walking out of the dining room. She could hear him speak softly to Winter before the pair entered the dining room.

 

Winter’s shoulders were stiff until he caught sight of Verfall. He deflated with relief as he slowly sat beside her. Karpov took his seat again, and Winter struggled to grab his spoon correctly as well.

 

“Держите вот так.”

 

Hold it like this.

 

He said as he grabbed Winter’s spoon and held it with his thumb and forefinger above the handle, the rest tucked beneath it. 

 

The pair examined it before following his instruction. 

 

Verfall sipped on the soup hesitantly. If it was drugged, it was drugged. That wasn’t something they were allowed to avoid. But she couldn’t smell anything so her hesitance diminished as she carefully drained the bowl.

 

“Эта операция продлится не более недели.”

 

This operation will last no more than a week.

 

He paused.

 

“Я хотел сделать перерыв. Но я не доверяю американцам. А теперь мы здесь.”

 

I wanted to take a break. But I don’t trust the Americans. So here we are.

 

Winter nodded his head in understanding. 

 

Verfall placed her spoon back to its original spot as she grabbed ahold of her water. She tilted her head back, drinking it in one go before silently placing it back.

 

Karpov took her plate, spoon and cup, disappearing into the kitchen.

 

She glanced at Winter as he finished drinking his water. He gazed at her and she cleared her throat.

 

“Advised times of watch include 0800 to 2000, 2000 to 0800.” She suggested.

 

Winter tapped his fingers against his thigh before nodding in agreement. They stayed like that as Karpov retrieved Winter’s plate as well. The water turned on in the kitchen, and she could hear him cleaning the plates, and cups.

 

Verfall tapped her fingers against her leg, in a silent one two, one, two, three pattern. She couldn’t help it as she grew jittery. Her chest was twisting and turning with a burning anger she couldn’t seem to put away.

 

Something about being in a cozy house, being placed in such a domestic area, was making her so unbelievably angry. 

 

It was unfair that they were moved from one place to another without being told. It was unfair they had to listen to their handler and do what he wanted because they were supposed to. It was unfair she couldn’t stand up and offer to clean the plates in an attempt to be polite, not that she knew how to be polite anymore. It was unfair their handler was rich enough to have a vacation home and more homes after that when he followed HYDRA’s ideals. 

 

It was unfair they were in this decade. 

 

It was unfair she remembered and Winter didn’t. 

 

It was unfair they were in this situation- 

 

It was unfair- unfair- unfair-

 

The wood underneath her hand splintered, a loud crack that resonated within the room. 

 

Winter’s head snapped to her.

 

The faucet turned off in the kitchen.

 

Verfall blinked once, twice, then looked down at her hand. Winter stared at her, then his eyes narrowed. She looked up to him silently as Winter’s stare grew angered. 

 

She ducked her head, looking down at the damage she’d done.

 

“Верфаль.”

 

Verfall.

 

She winced, keeping her eyes focused on anything but Karpov as he drew close.

 

He cleared his throat.

 

“Солдат. Разведайте местность. Вернитесь, когда закончите.”

 

Soldier. Scout the area. Return when finished.

 

He ordered.

 

Winter’s hesitation was absent as he quickly stood and stepped out of the dining room.

 

Verfall trembled, her hands tapping against each other as Karpov rubbed his thumb over the broken wood. He frowned deeply, a sigh escaping his lips. He took a circular device from his pocket- did he take it from James? Or was there more?- and turned it. She hurriedly activated her abilities and recreated the wood, pushing molecules together.

 

Karpov turned the device again before pocketing it. He gripped her chin, tilting her head upwards.

 

“Вы гневаетесь.”

 

You’re angry.

 

He noted as he let go.

 

Verfall found it hard to breathe as Karpov clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

 

“Мне жаль. Пожалуйста. Пожалуйста. Не знаю почему.”

 

I’m sorry. Please. Please. I don’t know why. 

 

She whispered. 

 

Karpov tapped his fingers against the back of her chair. 

 

“Oкей. Я не причиню ему вреда.”

 

Okay. I won’t hurt him.

 

Verfall’s shoulders dropped with relief. He gave her a second to register what he said before grabbing ahold of her hair. she braced herself as he slammed her head into the table. 

 

She felt blood trickle down her forehead but she remained silent as he kicked her chair out of the way, bringing her to the corner of the room.

 

“Ha колени.”

 

On your knees.

 

His voice was stern but not loud.

 

He didn’t need to be loud.

 

She shifted on her knees and he let go of her hair. 

 

“Поднимите руки.”

 

Raise your arms.

 

He ordered.

 

She did so, head horizontal to the ground and eyes blank as he watched her.

 

She could feel the boiling rage simmering under her skin, but it was slowly being replaced with a chilling numbness she was all too used to.

 

Being numb was better, easier, and what HYDRA desired. She just struggled to keep herself in check at times.

 

“Оставайся.”

 

Stay.

 

She kept her head down as he flicked the circular device in his hand. There was no warning when he pressed down. Electricity sparked and her arms trembled as she struggled to keep herself silent. 

 

He lifted his finger from the metal for a few seconds, before pressing on it again. At least half a minute passed before he let go of the device.

 

“Oружие не чувствует.”

 

Weapons don’t feel.

 

He said sharply.

 

He moved his finger again, and she inhaled sharply as electricity exploded across her body. She breathed heavily, her eyes squeezing shut as she resisted the urge to cry out.

 

He moved his hand away a minute later.

 

“Oружие не чувствует.”

 

Weapons don’t feel.

 

He repeated.

 

Then he pressed his finger against the device again.

 

It went on until the door to the back door shut, loud as Winter announced his presence without speaking. It must’ve been at least half an hour, because Verfall had collapsed at one point, unable to keep her arms up or her body up.

 

She was in so much pa- 

 

Weapons don’t feel.

 

Her arms were stiff and her legs were stuck in a half-kneeling half-lying position. Her eyes were dull and her mouth clamped shut as Karpov finally pocketed the device. 

 

He turned to Winter who stepped into the dining room silently.

 

“Всё чисто, сэр.”

 

All clear, sir.

 

He said quietly.

 

Karpov looked pleased.

 

He leaned down and grabbed Verfall’s arm.

 

She drew into herself instinctively and Karpov sighed. He muttered words of reassurance- not like Dr. Schaffer who blamed everything on her through supposedly kind words. 

 

The punishment was over, there was nothing to fear, she shouldn’t do it again- those were the words Karpov used.

 

She didn’t know which one she preferred.

 

But she was most definitely not attached to him like she’d been with Dr. Schaffer.

 

That was preferable, since her heart still ached for the bastard.

 

“Следуйте за мной.”

 

Follow me.

 

He ordered as Winter gently grasped Verfall’s arms.

 

She stumbled on her feet and Winter helped her keep her balance. She nuzzled her head into his neck in a silent apology, and he gently pulled her hair out of her face. 

 

They travelled across the hall, passing an opening to a staircase. Karpov paused, tapping his finger against the doorframe.

 

“Второй этаж закрыт если только ты не в патруле.”

 

Second floor is off limits unless you’re on patrol.

 

He said firmly.

 

“Здесь другие правила. Вы можете побродить вокруг. Но ничего там не трогай.

 

The rules are different here. You can wander around. But don’t touch anything.

 

He continued as they walked further down the hall. 

 

He stopped in front of a door, unlocking it and pushing it open. Verfall and Winter stepped inside silently. 

 

There was a large mattress in the center of the room, different from the military-grade cot they were used to. It was covered in soft blankets and two pillows. Besides that was a desk with a chair, a nice wooden wardrobe, and an open door leading to a tiled bathroom with a clawfoot bathtub. 

 

She couldn’t help but feel guilty.

 

Karpov had brought them into his own home, was giving them a warm place and a room, and she’d broken the armrest to his chair in return.

 

She shouldn’t have been angry. She should’ve been grateful.

 

“Ты будешь спать на кровати. Вам разрешается пользоваться ванной комнатой, когда это необходимо.”

 

You will sleep on the bed. You are allowed to use the bathroom when necessary.

 

He informed at the doorway.

 

Winter nodded once in understanding, and Verfall’s gaze faltered as she stared down at her feet.

 

“Вы должны патрулировать каждый час. Ужин в 1900

 

You are to patrol every hour. Dinner is at 1900.

 

He said firmly before turning out of the room without shutting the door.

 

Winter’s fingers twitched. The door shouldn’t have been open. It should’ve been shut. It was so much. . .freedom. 

 

Verfall lowered herself to the ground beside the bed, since they weren’t sleeping at the moment. Winter moved to sit beside her.

 

“Странный.”

 

Weird.

 

He muttered, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart was, as if it hurt.

 

His eyes roamed her body before he reached out with his metal arm, slow and gentle as he brushed his cold fingertips against her forehead, where a cut and bruise had formed, and was rapidly healing.

 

She inhaled sharply and Winter drew his hand back like he’d been burned. He maneuvered carefully around her, pulling her close into his chest, eyes downcast and sad.

 

“Вы ранены. Я не смог помочь вам.”

 

You’re hurt. I couldn’t help you.

 

He mumbled quietly, like he didn’t want to admit it. 

 

Verfall took a hold of his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

 

“В этом нет твоей вины.”

 

It’s not your fault.

 

She reasoned softly.

 

“У тебя нет выбора.”

 

You don’t have a choice.

Chapter 57: Fifty Six

"You don’t deserve this. No one does”

Siberia, Russia.

June, 1981

THERE WAS A GARDEN BEHIND the home. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t extraordinarily large either. It was a beautiful place planted with vegetables like peas, cabbage, turnips, carrots, onions, and garlic. It had caught her eye when she’d gone on her first patrol, checking every corner for any hidden American agent. So far she’d only found a pair, who had both run from her when she’d gotten close. 

 

She was drawn to the garden. 

 

The plants thrived wonderfully and the scent of fragrant leaves- that faint smell of petrichor- grounded her in a way she couldn’t understand. If someone told her she’d once played in the rain, stomping up mud and getting her boots wet, she wouldn’t believe them. The innocence she’d experienced as a child was so far gone, so unbelievable, that she failed to believe she’d been anything remotely human.

 

Even so, the garden was her favo- was a part of the house and needed to be protected just as she protected Karpov. 

 

Her feet sunk softly into damp soil as she crouched in front of a growing carrot, watching a bumblebee walk across one of its leaves. She held a finger out, and the little creature waddled onto her finger. It was soft and furry and delicate. She cupped the bug carefully as she slowly stood, examining it’s little wings and the bright black and yellow that contrasted against the vast sea of green it’d been travelling on.

 

“Я знала, что найду тебя здесь.”

 

I thought I’d find you here.

 

Verfall straightened immediately, bringing her hands close to her chest, a protective gesture as she hid the ladybug from his line of sight. She felt the creature's wings flutter against her skin before it continued crawling around her palm.

 

Karpov stepped over to her, wearing beige cargo pants and garden boots as he approached her.

 

She lowered her gaze as he stopped in front of her. He bent down slightly, nodding at her cupped hands. She moved slowly, her fingers spreading to show the fluffy bee moving around with curiosity.

 

“Давайте приведем этого маленького парня домой.”

 

Let’s bring this little guy home.

 

He said softly.

 

Verfall hesitantly looked up at him, still not meeting his gaze but observing him for signs of sincerity. 

 

She nodded silently as the bumblebee peaked up at her with round black eyes. She shielded the little thing as Karpov led her towards the tall tree lining the home. He stopped in front of one of the branches, where a hive hung.

 

Karpov motioned with his arm and Verfall raised her hand, gently letting the bumblebee crawl back onto his home. He seemed to stare at her with curiosity before he fluttered his wings, and landed on his hive.

 

She pulled her hand back and Karpov examined her for a second.

 

“Ты умеешь готовить?”

 

Do you know how to cook?

 

He asked.

 

Verfall tried not to look taken aback by the question.

 

“Так точно, сэр.”

 

Affirmative, sir.

 

She replied.

 

Karpov smiled, tilting his head curiously.

 

“Вы все еще помните Вторую мировую войну?”

 

Do you still remember World War 2?

 

He questioned.

 

Verfall flinched, taking a small step back from him. She wondered if it was a trick question because they never wanted her to recite anything about the past.

 

But Karpov hadn’t ever twisted his words before.

 

“Так точно, сэр.”

 

Affirmative, sir.

 

She said hesitantly.

 

Karpov hummed.

 

He walked back towards the main part of the garden and Verfall followed silently. He stopped in front of a row of turnips, crouching down and tending to them. 

 

Verfall didn’t move, watching him as he worked.

 

“Твои воспоминания не имеют значения.”

 

Your memories do not matter.

 

 He said and Verfall stiffened.

 

“Вы это понимаете, верно?”

 

You understand that, right?

 

He tilted his head up to look at her and she nodded firmly.

 

“Подтверждено, сэр.”

 

Confirmed, sir.

 

She paused.

 

“Это очень важно. Для Зимний.”

 

It is very important. For Winter.

 

Karpov nodded in agreement as he uprooted a few turnips and carrots.

 

He handed them to Verfall who tucked them into her arms as he continued picking more vegetables. If she was honest it was a bit odd seeing her handler act so normal, so person-like. She’d put him on a pedestal- not a good one, by any means, but one with respect- and seeing him stoop lower than her was odd. 

 

He could’ve made her pick them, but, well, she supposed that wasn’t her main function. 

 

“Возьмите это.”

 

Take this.

 

He handed her a deep braided basket and she carefully placed the vegetables inside. 

 

She gripped the handle of the basket as he beckoned her to follow him back into the tree-filled area. She blinked as he grabbed a hold of an umbrella shaped flowery bush, picking it carefully.

 

“Кружево королевы Анны.”

 

Queen Anne’s Lace.

 

He informed as he picked a few more.

 

He went on to forage for other things- mulberries, black raspberry, sour grass. He told them as he went, filling the basket until there was no room left.

 

Verfall couldn’t help the small crease of her eyebrows as confusion settled on her face.

 

“Ты знаешь, почему я тебе это рассказываю?”

 

Do you know why I’m telling you this?

 

He asked as he brushed off his hands.

 

Verfall swallowed.

 

Usually they weren’t allowed to say no, but, she didn’t really understand why he was telling her the plants he picked. That information wasn’t useful, nor did it have anything to do with the mission.

 

“Нет, сэр.”

 

No, sir.

 

She admitted.

 

“Если вы когда-нибудь разлучайтесь со своим куратором, ваш долг-позаботиться о Солдате и вернуть его на базу. Идентификация съедобных растений может быть вашим лучшим способом выживания.”

 

If you are ever separated from your handler, it is your duty to take care of the Soldier and bring him back to base. Identifying edible plants may be your best way of survival.

 

Karpov explained and Verfall nodded curtly in understanding.

 

He looked away with a small smile on his lips.

 

“Растения - довольно интересные вещи. Они просто есть. Разве это не замечательно?”

 

Plants are quite interesting things. They simply be. Isn’t that wonderful?

 

She blinked.

 

She’d never seen the man so soft before.

 

“Так точно, сэр.”

 

Affirmative, sir.

 

She nodded.

 

He looked her over once before turning towards the backdoor, padding towards it.

 

“Мне жаль. Ты - не она.”

 

I’m sorry. You’re not her.

 

He said ominously.

 

Verfall’s eyes subtly searched for any wedding bands on his fingers. There were none. So she made no assumptions as they entered the kitchen.

 

She stepped over the door frame as Winter turned the corner. He examined her for injuries, before continuing on his way towards the living room. She almost raised an eyebrow at his mindless walking. 

 

She placed the basket near the kitchen sink. Karpov turned the water on and started cleaning each plant carefully. Verfall tilted her head as she caught sight of Winter making another lap around the kitchen.

 

“Солдат, сядь.”

 

Soldat, sit.

 

Karpov ordered, in a chiding voice.

 

Winter’s footsteps drew quiet as he pulled out a stool from beneath the kitchen island, sitting on it obediently as his eyes moved back and forth across the area.

 

Karpov left the sink on as he walked out of the kitchen. Verfall carefully moved the vegetables into separate piles as he rummaged around somewhere. She withdrew her hands quickly when he re-entered the room, holding a rectangular box with an image printed atop it.

 

It was so bright, so full of color, Verfall couldn’t help but stare at it.

 

Colors. . .when was the last time she’d seen something printed in such a vibrant color?

 

Winter blinked as he observed his handler, who slid the box in front of him and pried the top open. He tipped the box forward, letting all the little colorful pieces inside spill onto the kitchen island.

 

Puzzle pieces.

 

Winter tilted his head as his eyes scanned the pieces with a curious glint in his gaze. 

 

“Закончите дело.”

 

Solve this.

 

Karpov ordered.

 

Winter’s shoulders remained stiff but his expression was exceptionally more docile as he focused on the task given to him.

 

Verfall understood. 

 

Without being given a task for more than an hour left her jittery and unsettled. They weren’t meant to sit still. They were meant to kill, then be put away. Being awake for a week was. . .well, they’d never been on a mission that long before. Maybe three or four days but not seven.

 

Karpov stepped back to her side and she remained standing as he finished cleaning the rest of their freshly picked produce.

 

“Приготовишь.”

 

Cook something.

 

He ordered.

 

Verfall’s eyes moved to the stove, the oven, the sink, the knife block, the cutting board, the fridge. She glanced at him questioningly and Karpov replied with a cocked eyebrow. She flinched, nodding curtly. She carefully examined the food she had to work with before deciding to make a vegetable stew.

 

She grabbed one of the pots hanging at the top of the cabinets, placing it on the stove with a little clank.

 

“Не теряй своего молчания, Верфаль.”

 

Do not lose your silence, Verfall.

 

Karpov said and Verfall inhaled deeply.

 

Of course, he wouldn’t make her cook without any mission-important skills being used.

 

She was supposed to treat everything as a mission, but it was hard to, especially when her logic hadn’t been knocked out of her skull yet. 

 

She was careful afterward then, holding her kitchen knife with a grip she’d hold her throwing knives with, her hand impeccably steady and her eyes trailing after the chunks of carrot she’d sliced.

 

She stepped to the pantry and let her hand hover over it in a silent question. 

 

Karpov shifted in the stool he was observing her in, before giving her a dismissive wave of his hand. 

 

She opened the door and grabbed a little container of olive oil, which she poured into the base of the pan. She threw some of the vegetables in, careful to keep her movements quiet as she ignored the light splash of fiery oil against her hands.

 

The wounds, which weren’t really wounds at all, would heal in a few minutes.

 

She poured water into the pot as the vegetables mingled with each other, flavors and aromas rising into the air. She added a few seasonings, before shutting the pot and turning to Karpov for another order.

 

“

 

Come. Sit.

 

He said, as he pulled a stool next to him.

 

She padded forwards, lowering herself on the chair and looked ahead of her to examine the picture Winter was putting together. He seemed to be engrossed in the image, just as he’d done so when Joseph had given him a Rubik’s cube.

 

His eyes flicked to her momentarily before dropping back to the puzzle piece in his hand, his metal fingers gently gripping the wood.

 

“Ты думал о том, чтобы сбежать?

 

You ever think about running away?

 

Karpov’s question was so out of the ordinary, so dangerous, Verfall snapped her head to the side as if she’d been slapped.

 

She did think of running away sometimes. 

 

Whenever Winter was badly beaten she’d wish for HYDRA to disappear. To just die so they could be free. She was no idiot, though. She knew the government wouldn’t care much at all if she’d been a coerced, threatened prisoner- made- assassin. 

 

She would probably be given the death penalty with Winter.

 

Verfall faltered in answering.

 

If she lied, and he knew, her punishment would be much much worse than if she told an unfavorable truth. But telling the unfavorable truth would be further dangerous because- because at least if she lied, she could do so as many times until she started believing herself.

 

Repeated lies always started to become truths.

 

“Что ж, очень плохо.”

 

That is wrong.

 

She found herself saying.

 

“Эта мысль приведет к наказанию.”

 

That thought will lead to punishment.

 

She clarified.

 

Karpov tapped his fingers against the kitchen island, lips quirked in a smile of realization, which was empty of amusement or contentment.

 

“Ваша обусловленность в лучшем случае шаткая.”

 

Your conditioning is shaky at best.

 

Karpov noted as he pointed his head at Winter.

 

“Он держит тебя в узде.”

 

He keeps you in line.

 

Verfall dropped her gaze to the quarts in front of her, pressing her palms flat against her thighs as she nodded jerkily, the movement shaky and anxious.

 

That was deservable of punishment- she hadn’t really answered his question.

 

Karpov shook his head gently.

 

“Я сегодня задавал тебе так много вопросов. Я сбил тебя с толку, не так ли? Тебя не накажут.”

 

I’ve asked you so many questions today. I’ve confused you, haven’t I? You won’t be punished.

 

Verfall kept her head down but mumbled a quiet affirmative, sir anyway.

 

Humid fog burst from the pot and she scooted back her stool as she hurriedly walked over to the stove, removing the pot and smelling a waft of the soup. She grabbed a spoon, taking a spoonful of it and sipping it, mindful of the heat it produced. She frowned, adding a touch more of salt, paprika, and dried chili. She stirred it again, letting the spices mingle with each other before taking another spoonful.

 

She nearly panicked when Karpov appeared to the right of her, gazing down at the vegetables.

 

He took the spoon in her hand and brought it to his lips.

 

His eyes twinkled with approval and Verfall blinked at the foreign expression. 

 

“Это вкусно.”

 

It tastes good.

 

He nodded.

 

Verfall stared at him like he’d grown another head. 

 

He was so odd- so stern but- soft?

 

Her eyes wandered to Winter.

 

He’d finished his puzzle piece, revealing the image of a family picture in front of the vacation home they were currently in. There was Karpov, his parents, and a young woman, her arm thrown around the younger boy, a cheeky grin on her face.

 

Karpov turned to follow her gaze and Winter looked up at his handler’s attention, pushing the finished picture towards him as if to say ‘did I do good?’

 

Their handler let out a small chuckle.

 

“Отлично, Сопдат.”

 

Very good, Soldier.

 

He approved and Winter relaxed at his tone.

 

Karpov grabbed three bowls, lading spoonfuls of dinner for each of them. 

 

Verfall moved out of his way, seating herself in the stool she’d been in.

 

“Oна умерла. Это было самоубийство.”

 

She died. It was a suicide.

 

Karpov said tonelessly as he carried bowls and spoons to them, sitting with a small sigh. 

 

Verfall looked up at him as she took her spoon.

 

“Она. . .э-э. . .Она не заслужила умереть.”

 

She. . .uh. . .didn’t deserve to die.

 

He stirred his bowl of soup.

 

Winter stared at his portion, moving his spoon lazily across the sea of vegetables.

 

“Также как и ты.”

 

Neither did you.

 

He finished as he brought his spoon to his lips.

 

Verfall looked away.

 

He was right.

 

They had died as soon as they fell off that train.

 

Chapter 58: Fifty Seven

"A mind wants to forget but a heart will always remember.”

???, Russia.

December, 1991

KARPOV’S EXPRESSION WAS INEXPLICABLY BLANK as Verfall stared upwards at the blinding ceiling light above her. Her hands were cuffed to the familiar metal she was always placed on after cryostasis. Her hair was dry and she was barely aware of the needles poking under her skin. If she focused enough, she could see her blood being taken through a long narrow tube, attached to several blood bags. She vaguely wondered what they would do with it, not that they’d ever tell her.

 

She stiffened when she heard earth-shattering screams coming from the large room next door, which stored the mind-wiping Chair. 

 

Winter was awake.

 

Her eyes moved warily back to Karpov, who’d aged to somewhere in his forties, as he stepped past the scientists carrying filled blood bags out of the way. He exited the room with a crimson red book in his hand, a black star printed perfectly atop it.

 

She barely felt the needle being pulled out from her arm as they replaced it with another needle connected to an IV drip. She knew it was a concoction of amphetamine and adrenaline-inducing drugs. She didn’t need it as much as Winter did, but she had no choice in the matter. 

 

Five minutes had passed before Karpov reappeared, shutting the steel door behind him.

 

He tossed the red book on one of the unoccupied tables, rubbing his temples as if he had a migraine.

 

The cuffs around her hands clicked open and she sat up at the wave of Karpov’s hand. She felt light-headed and almost tipped over on the table.

 

How much blood had they taken?

 

She’d let her mind drift and hadn’t kept herself here, in the infirmary. She’d floated off, somewhere, and lost time. 

 

How much time had passed?

 

Karpov caught her before she could tumble to the ground. He placed her back onto the table. Verfall gripped onto him with one hand, still unbalanced and unable to remain seated without his help. A small sigh escaped his lips but he didn’t move away.

 

The steel doors to the room slammed open and winter was dragged forwards, his feet still locked and not completely thawed. He was dragged onto the metal table besides hers, looking disoriented as they locked his arms down with cuffs.

 

A technician inserted an IV drip into his right arm as Winter breathed softly.

 

His eyes moved across the ceiling before landing on Verfall and his handler. He looked relieved as he returned his gaze back to the gray steel above.

 

“Можешь встать?”

 

Can you stand?

 

Karpov asked.

 

Verfall carefully swung her feet over the metal.

 

She planted her feet firmly on the ground and stood. She wobbled, legs trembling a bit before catching her balance and letting go of him.

 

“Так точно, сэр.”

 

Affirmative, sir.

 

She whispered tiredly, her voice hoarse.

 

Karpov nodded curtly once, before pointing to Winter with permission. 

 

Verfall stumbled forwards, clasping onto the side of Winter’s table as she lowered herself to the floor, pressing her head against his arm. She felt his muscles relax against her forehead.

 

A few minutes passed before Karpov turned to one of two scientists in the room.

 

“Вы извлекли сыворотку?”

 

Have you extracted the serum?

 

He questioned and one of the scientists turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Нет, сэр. Ее кровь. . .ну, он слился с сывороткой.”

 

No, sir. Her blood. . .well, it merged with the serum.

 

The scientist fiddled with the sleeve of his lab coat as his eyes roamed over her. 

 

Verfall curled in on herself, disturbed by the way he gazed at her like a- a subject- which she was, so she supposed she had no reason to be disturbed.

 

Karpov hummed in thought.

 

“Что вы думаете?”

 

What do you think?

 

He asked and the scientist bit the inside of his lips.

 

He shook his head.

 

“Это невозможно, сэр.”

 

It’s impossible, sir.

 

Karpov tilted his head at the bags of blood they’d collected.

 

“Держите их на всякий случай.”

 

Keep them just in case.

 

He ordered and the scientist nodded in agreement.

 

He turned to a table pressed against one of the walls, picking up a manila folder. 

 

Winter’s IV drip was removed and the cuffs around his arms clicked open. He swung his legs over the metal table and Verfall stood to her feet as she examined him for any injuries given from the guards. When there was none, she let Winter examine her arm, the one where they’d taken her blood from. A small bruise was forming just as fast as it was disappearing and he gently let go of her once he was sure she was okay.

 

Karpov cleared his throat and their attention snapped to him.

 

“У тебя новая миссия. Санкционируй и Извлекай. Без свидетелей.”

 

You have a new mission. Sanction and extract. No witnesses. 

 

He said as he held the folder out to Winter.

 

He took it at the silent command, turning it open. Winter’s eyes roamed the page  and Verfall leaned forwards to peer at their target’s face. The first picture was of a silver case, opened to reveal several bright blue packets. The others were of a woman, and a man, both growing old with wrinkles and white hair. Verfall paid no attention to the woman- but the man. . .she knew him.

 

Albeit his face was older and his lips looked to be set in a permanent frown, but it was still him.

 

It was still Howard, the man who she'd bothered incessantly for a plane in exchange for HYDRA weapon blueprints. 

 

A cold feeling grew in her chest- something strong and numbing, and bone-chilling. Goosebumps littered her skin, and her eyes shifted hesitantly to Karpov.

 

Did they know she knew him?

 

Did they know Winter knew him?

 

Her momentary reluctance disappeared at the cold gaze Karpov had. She knew saying anything meant punishment so she kept her head down as Winter pushed the folder back to Karpov.

 

Karpov led the way toward the bases exit, without giving them their masks.

 

Verfall swallowed thickly.

 

So he did know.

 

There was no other reason to leave them maskless unless HYDRA wanted to flaunt how powerful they were in front of Howard before he took his last breath.

 

Howard, Howard, they couldn’t kill Howard.

 

Karpov stopped in front of two motorcycles.

 

“В кейсе есть трекер. Следуйте ему.”

 

There is a tracker in the case. Follow it.

 

He paused as he tapped the screen on one of their vehicles, 

 

Winter nodded and Karpov observed him for a moment before unholstering his pistol, beckoning Winter to take it. Winter, who faltered at his handler’s movements. They weren’t allowed to touch their handler’s gun, or any of his weapons. They were counted and seen as his weapons too, so it would be wrong to pick up another that belonged to him.

 

Verfall almost failed to conceal the surprise appearing across her face. She buried it in her stomach as Karpov waved the gun impatiently.

 

Winter took it carefully, treating the weapon with gentleness compared to the other firearms he usually used. 

 

“Там две пули.”

 

There are two bullets.

 

Karpov said smoothly.

 

“Они будут в машине. Стрельнуть им по колесам. И камера видеонаблюдения.”

 

They’ll be in a car. Shoot out their tires. And a security camera.

 

Verfall blanched.

 

Wh-

 

What?

 

They had no blades on them, except for the one strapped to her thigh, which she was not permitted to draw unless she’d been given permission. The only weapon that could really be considered one was Winter’s arm, but that was still attached to Winter and thus a part of him.

 

Karpov wanted the pair to kill them either from the car’s impact, or with their bare hands? If Karpov decided to come with them, then it wouldn’t be much of a problem because she would’ve been able to use her abilities.

 

But he wasn’t.

 

Winter swung his leg over the seat of his vehicle, turning on the motorcycle. He waited for Verfall who moved quickly to her own, sitting on the leather seat and pulling out of it’s parking spot.

 

“Подчинение будет вознаграждено.”

 

Compliance will be rewarded.

 

Karpov said calmly.

 

Winter’s eyes shined with determination as he turned out of his parking lot. Verfall followed behind him shortly, engine revving as she appeared at Winter’s side.

 

She would be lying if she also wasn’t determined to finish their mission correctly. Successful missions were always worth the reward they’d be given. Nowadays Winter would usually be given a puzzle that was near impossible to solve, and Verfall would usually receive blankets for the pair.

 

If they gave her puzzles she’d have the desire to kill them so, she did like her rewards.

 

Especially since the soft fleece kept Winter warm.

 

“The woman is yours.” Winter ordered firmly over the soft thrum of their vehicle engines.

 

Verfall’s lips curled into a frown.

 

“No. I refuse.” She replied bluntly.

 

Winter stared at her with a glare starting to form. She stared back. He shook his head, looking ahead of him again.

 

Verfall’s grip on the handles tightened.

 

The drive was silent as they carried on down the road. They took several sharp turns before entering a forested path, gravel crunching beneath their tires. 

 

Then, Winter stopped.

 

Verfall managed to spin her cycle around, laying low underneath a thicket of trees on the side of the road, opposite to Winter.

 

“Protocol states the Weapon is to follow orders from the Soldier when on paired missions without a mission handler or superior present.” He recited with a brittle tone.

 

She flinched, her eyes lifting to meet his.

 

“Winter. . .” She trailed off.

 

His stare remained set and a soft sigh escaped her lips as her shoulders dropped.

 

He seemed to think she’d given up as he tilted his head back to look for their target’s car. But Verfall couldn’t just let him murder Howard in cold blood. To kill someone who’d he’d spoken to- who’d been one of his good friends. . .she wanted to spare him the experience- she wanted to spare herself the experience too.

 

If she could just try to keep Howard aliv- compliance will be rewarded.

 

She was snapped out of her thoughts as a car roared past them.

 

Winter immediately drove forwards and Verfall frowned as she travelled alongside him. They drove together for a few seconds before splitting, surrounding both sides of the car as Winter shot their back tire.

 

She drew back as the target-Howard- swerved as the vehicle went haywire. The tires screeched with an ear-splitting squeal before slamming into a telephone pole.

 

Winter turned around, the vehicle rumbling as he parked beside her. Verfall got off her seat smoothly, stalking towards the trunk of the car. She placed her hand on the car trunk and nodded at Winter to shoot the security camera.

 

He didn’t seem to see or notice her at all. 

 

Instead, his eyes were glued on the man who tumbled out of the front door. He was frozen for a few long seconds before his eyes flicked up to her.

 

Recognition flashed between his eyes and his lips formed a word, a name, before he pressed them into a thin line. He shook strands of hair out of his face, seemingly forgetful of the gun attached to his hip as he traipsed forward.

 

Verfall stared at the bloodied face of Howard, his hair a sleek white as she tugged the trunk open. Inside was a silver case identical to the one she’d seen in the picture. She opened it, checked for the blue packets, then slammed it shut.

 

Her eyes shifted back to Winter as he grabbed Howard by the back of his head. He raised his metal arm to hit him but stopped when Howard’s eyes roamed his face.

 

Verfall abandoned the metal case.

 

“Sergeant Barnes. . .” Howard breathed with wide eyes of bleary surprise.

 

Winter faltered.

 

For the first time, Winter’s fist lowered as he stared at his target.

 

Verfall’s eyes flickered to the security camera’s blinking red light atop the telephone pole.

 

Why hadn’t he shot it?

 

When she looked back to Winter there was a sincere, blistering fear in his eyes. He raised his fist again and Verfall moved silently in front of Howard, grabbing Winter’s fist before he could beat him.

 

“Verfall.” His voice was cold.

 

She felt Howard grab her arm.

 

“Agent Baker?” He questioned, as if he couldn’t understand what he was seeing.

 

Verfall didn’t spare him a glance, instead tightening her grip on Winter’s hand. Her body had moved on it’s own but she knew it was exactly what she would’ve done. She would regret it- she knew that- but she couldn’t stand and do nothing.

 

She had to-

 

She had to-

 

“Winter.” She spoke quietly.

 

His other hand whipped forwards just as she slammed her foot into his knee. He almost buckled, but she’d misjudged how strong he was as his metal hand twisted around hers, pulling her down and catching her neck with his other hand.

 

She flinched as the air was knocked out of her. She jumped firmly to his thighs and used the momentum to wrap her legs around his neck.

 

But they’d both fought countless times and they knew each other’s skills in and out.

 

Winter grabbed onto her waist with a bruising grip as they both slammed each other into the ground. She raised a fist to punch him but faltered at his gaze- 

 

James.

 

He took advantage of the instant and slammed his fist into her face with his right hand, using his core to slice upwards with momentum. 

 

She heard an unceremonious snap as she tumbled off of him, her nose searing with pain. Blood trickled down her face and she blinked in shock. 

 

He’d never- for a mission- he’d never- 

 

“Howard!” The woman in the passenger's seat cried.

 

Winter had brutally punched Howard with his metal arm. Howard was against the ground now, unconscious, bruised and seconds from death.

 

Verfall schooled her features, carefully wiping the blood dripping into her mouth. She snapped her nose back into place, exhaling at the sudden pain. She stood to her feet, her limbs locking and feeling marginally numb as Winter choked the life out of Howard’s wife.

 

He roughly let go of the woman once she stopped responding, spinning to shoot the security camera. Then he stalked towards Verfall, who didn’t budge from where she stood.

 

“You jeopardized this mission.” He snarled. “Protocol states the Soldier had no friends, and has no friends, especially not inventors!”

 

Verfall drew back sharply.

 

Her eyes widened as he balled his hands into fists. 

 

His eyes glistened with fear.

 

“You reme- malfunctioned?” She asked.

 

The anger seemed to drain from Winter’s face, his shoulders, his eyes.

 

“I knew him.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m not- it’s imperative we report to base.”

 

Verfall felt her shoulders drop with defeat, not that they could try running away with the amount of trackers hidden in both their bodies, and the gold shackles around her wrists and neck. 

 

She grabbed the silver case in the trunk, placing it in front of her as she swung herself onto her motorcycle. She wiped the rest of her blood on her pants, avoiding the blinding white of her sleeve. They drove onto the road, hearing faint sounds of sirens as they turned sharply. 

 

HYDRA police.

 

They slowed down as the gates to the base opened, swerving into the garage. Verfall’s eyes remained lowered as the pair swiftly stepped off their vehicles, approaching the main entrance. A group of guards stepped aside as they stalked past. She kept her head low and avoided their jeers and snickers as they appeared in the vast cavern that held the Chair. 

 

Karpov was waiting, his hands tucked into his pockets as his eyes scanned both of them. Verfall placed the case near the Chair, flipping the locks up and pulling it open. Five blue packets stared back at them plainly, and Karpov nodded with approval.

 

Verfall stepped back besides Winter, who did not hesitate when Karpov asked for their mission report.

 

“Статус миссии: успешный. Оружие было непокорны и Солдат неисправна, сэр.”

 

Mission status: successful. The Weapon was insubordinate and the Soldier is malfunctioning, sir.

 

Karpov hummed, crossing his arms over his chest as he surveyed Winter’s posture. He was straight-backed and obedient, but his eyes were unsure and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

 

Their handler’s eyes flicked to Verfall, who ducked her head to hide the dried blood on her lips. Karpov padded forwards, grabbing her chin and forcing her head up. She sniffed as blood threatened to trickle down her nose. 

 

His grip tightened.

 

“Ты сломал ей нос, Солдат.”

 

You broke her nose, Soldier.

 

Karpov noted as her nasty bruise started to heal.

 

Winter kept his eyes straight, though Verfall caught a flicker of- was that guilt?- between his eyes.

 

“Да, сэр.”

 

Yes, sir.

 

He replied.

 

Karpov let go of her face and she resisted the urge to massage her jaw. He turned to Winter.

 

“В чем ваша неисправность?”

 

What is your malfunction?

 

He said firmly.

 

Winter shifted on his feet, his eyes further alert and looking cornered as he took in the amount of agents and technicians in the room. 

 

He thought of all the ways he could kill them, then wondered why he would want to kill them in the first place. His mind drifted as he pondered over the thought of tearing the chair into a million pieces because it- it hurt and he didn’t want to go anywhere near it since he didn’t deserve to be hurt because Howard had improved his sniper rifle with extra gadgets and-

 

Howard had improved his sniper rifle.

 

Howard had improved his-

 

Howard had improved-

 

Howard had-

 

Howard.

 

His head snapped to the side as Karpov backhanded him across the face.

 

Verfall stiffened, hands clenching into fists at her sides. 

 

“Сядьте.”

 

Sit down.

 

He ordered sharply.

 

Winter moved hesitantly and Karpov raised his hand to slap him again. He flinched, drawing closer into himself as he hurriedly seated himself in the Chair. A technician tapped furiously on the keyboard attached to the bright screens circling the Chair, and cuffs clamped over Winter’s arms.

 

Two other technicians stepped forwards, removing one of his silver plates and pressing one of the wires. Winter’s eyes filled with panic as his arm powered down. He remained motionless however, as if he knew the agents guarding the area would beat him if he dared to, even if he couldn’t remember it happening.

 

Karpov approached Verfall.

 

“Встань на колени.”

 

Get on your knees.

 

He said indifferently, impeccably calm.

 

She swallowed, moving to her knees slowly. He placed a hand on the nape of her neck as his other gripped her hair, forcing her head up to look at Winter.

 

“Нет, нет, нет-“

 

No, no, no-

 

She whimpered as a technician held a metal mouth guard in front of Winter’s lips.

 

“Наблюдайте за ним.”

 

Watch him.

 

Karpov ordered as he kept a tight grip on her head.  

 

Her hands trembled against the floor as Winter’s seat reclined slightly, dull metal plates covering parts of his face. 

 

“Повышения напряжения.”

 

Raise the voltage.

 

Karpov spoke loudly and the technician hurriedly moved to his computer, typing frantically.

 

Electricity sparked. 

 

Winter’s veins pulsed against his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed. His eyes widened as his breath seized in his chest, struggling against his restraints subconsciously, his body fighting futilely as white hot pain exploded across his temple. A blood-curdling scream ripped through the air and Verfall lunged forwards, ignorant of the fiery hot pain climbing her head.

 

It was nothing compared to the electricity burning through his scalp.

 

She knew they were going to wipe him. She knew that. Because he’d malfunctioned. 

 

But they’d raised the voltage because of her.

 

His screams rang in her ears, echoing across the room in terrifying arcs of sound.

 

“Стой! Стой! Это моя вина!”

 

Stop! Stop! It was my fault!

 

She cried, shaking her head against Karpov’s grip.

 

“Вот почему ему причиняют боль. Потому что ты не слушаешь.”

 

That’s why he gets hurt. Because you don’t listen.

 

Karpov hissed into her ear. 

 

She trembled as she desperately clawed at his hand.

 

“Не двигаться.”

 

Don’t move.

 

He said calmly, his grip tightening.

 

Verfall froze as the barrel of a gun pressed against her shoulder blade. Her hands lowered as Winter’s screams turned into breathy huffs, his mouthguard still pressed tight between his teeth. His jaw clenched and unclenched and his chest heaved. 

 

The metal plates around his face had moved up but the chair hadn’t lowered.

 

“Снова.”

 

Again.

 

Karpov ordered.

 

The technician shot him a look and Karpov replied with a cold expression. The man quickly turned, clicking a few buttons before the metal plates lowered again.

 

“Нет! Нет- No!”

 

She shouted, though her pleas were silenced by Winter’s screams. 

 

A whole minute passed before the Chair shifted forwards. Winter’s whole body tremored, his muscles seeming to lock and tighten without his command. A tiny whimper escaped his lips.

 

Karpov’s eyes narrowed.

 

Verfall grasped his ankle.

 

“Пожалуйста, please, bitte!” She shook her head.

 

His grip on her hair loosened as she pressed her forehead against the ground, clasping her hands behind her back.

 

“Я больше не буду. Жалко. Жалко. Мне жаль.”

 

I won’t do it again. Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry.

 

She whimpered, swallowing fearfully as Winter’s breathing grew even.

 

“Не делайте ему больно.”

 

Don’t hurt him.

 

She pleaded.

 

She felt Karpov’s unwavering and disappointing gaze, feeling it in her bones and her trembling body. She shouldn’t have disobeyed and she knew that, even though it was Howard, it didn’t matter. She’d done something wrong and it was her fault Winter was hurting.

 

He stepped towards Winter.

 

“Кто она?”

 

Who is she?

 

He questioned and Winter’s hazy eyes flicked to her.

 

Panic seized him for a second before a flash of recognition shifted between his eyes.

 

“Верфаль.”

 

Verfall.

 

He replied hoarsely.

 

His throat ached from screa-from- from what? He couldn’t remember.

 

Karpov looked satisfied.

 

“Она будет наказана. И это ваша вина. Вы понимаете?”

 

She will be punished. And it’s your fault. Do you understand?

 

Winter’s lips almost formed a question.

 

Why?

 

But he let his head hang low instead. He’d done something wrong, it didn’t matter what it was, he just did. The metal clamps around his arms lowered, and Winter adjusted his hands so they were by his sides as several agents took hold of him. He barely had the energy to stand, feet dragging against the floor as pain wracked his body.

 

Verfall kept her eyes focused on the floor as Karpov scowled.

 

“Вставай.”

 

Get up.

 

Karpov tapped his foot once and she moved to her feet immediately.

 

He started walking down a hall she’d never ventured towards. She followed him quickly, heart hammering inside of her chest like a music box that’s notes were incessant. She tried to keep her breathing calm and even as he opened the door to a dark cell with a single ceiling light blinking above.

 

The room didn’t look any different from the cell she shared with Winter, except for the large vent on the back wall.

 

Karpov shoved her inside and she stumbled, wincing as her feet hit the surprisingly warm floor. He entered as well, guiding her to the center of the cell with a tap of his foot. She stood in front of him, hands clasped behind her back, head lowered.

 

“Oстаться таким.”

 

Stay like this.

 

He ordered.

 

His shoes disappeared from her view as he exited the room. As soon as the door shut Verfall could feel the room grow exponentially warmer and humid. 

 

Her throat felt dry, sweat was trickling down the sides of her head, and she felt awfully fatigued.

 

But she stayed.

Chapter 59: Fifty Eight

"Cruelty, like every other vice, requires no motive outside of itself; it only requires opportunity.”

???, Russia.

December, 1991

SHE’D COLLAPSED FROM THE DRASTIC temperature difference the room produced. The vents would let loose a sweltering, almost unbearable heat, that Verfall couldn’t tolerate. She’d sweat and tremble and swallow nothing, agitating her throat like sand brushing against each other in the middle of a bone dry desert. Then a blast of cold air would enter the room and she’d get the taste of sweet relief as the room grew neutral in temperature. But the relief would only last a few seconds before the walls would start to grow too cold. And she’d shiver, her hands still clasped behind her back as she struggled to remain standing. It was no surprise when her knees hit the ground with a crack. 

 

She’d tried to stand back up- she had- but her muscles had locked and she’d found herself sprawled across the floor. Her body ached and her limbs hung onto her like weights that shouldn’t have been there. The sweltering heat was back, and she wondered if she’d been laying there overnight. She didn’t sleep- she’d just fallen unconscious without her permission. It was hard for her eyes to remain focused as the door screeched open.

 

The sound was muted, and so were the footsteps approaching her. Her body trembled as she tried to move, only achieving a slight twitch in her fingertips. Karpov hauled her onto her feet, accompanied by two other agents who helped the handler as she was dragged out of the room, legs limp beneath her.

 

A cold towel was pressed into the back of her neck and she shivered at the feeling, sweat still drying against her forehead. Another door was unlocked and pushed open, and Verfall had enough conscience to see the blob of flesh in the corner of the room, reflecting the ceiling light with his metal limb.

 

Winter remained motionless as his eyes settled on Verfall.

 

Verfall was thrown onto the floor and she winced as pain exploded across her entire body. She wrapped her arms around her torso, curling into a ball as the two agents stepped forwards, lips pressed into a tight grimace as one of them unclipped the baton attached to his hip.

 

He didn’t swing it like the agents usually did when they beat Winter. Instead he pressed the object against the side of her neck as it flared to life. Verfall found herself uncomprehending of the white hot pain shooting up and down her skin as her lips let loose animalistic groans of pain.

 

“Ты живое оружие.”

 

You are a living weapon.

 

Karpov’s voice was muddled as Winter’s eyes sharply moved to him.

 

Verfall shuddered as the baton was pulled away from her skin, the veins in her neck pulsing as she tried to breathe the pain away. The agent above her didn’t seem particularly sadistic as the baton hovered in front of her face.

 

“Не подведите меня снова. Вы понимаете?”

 

Do not fail me again. Do you understand?

 

Her body seized as the baton pressed against her collarbone. She tried to tuck herself away from the object but she only made it worse as the other agent- the one grinning from ear to ear- pressed the object harder into her bone, causing the pain to explode even further across her skin.

 

“Так точно, сэр.”

 

Affirmative, sir.

 

Winter replied gravelly and Karpov straightened out his sleeves.

 

“Оставить ее.”

 

Leave her.

 

Karpov ordered and the agent rolled his eyes.

 

“Ладно, хорошо.”

 

Okay, alright.

 

He threw his hands up and Karpov turned around. 

 

He grinned, tapping her with the baton once more. Her mouth opened in a half cry, bringing her knees to her chest as electricity shot down her torso.

 

In the second Karpov’s back was turned, Winter lunged, crossing the small space between them as he punched the man hard with his right arm. There was a god awful snap and the agent’s eyes grew wide before they rolled into the back of his head. His nose- was- it was terribly misshapen and blood splurted from his nostrils, gushing down his mouth and clothes.

 

Winter had been so incredibly gentle when he’d broken her nose. 

 

A feeling of appreciation swelled in her chest.

 

The man collapsed and the other agent caught him before he could hit the ground.

 

Karpov sighed, massaging his temples but not disappointed in Winter as if he knew he’d done it with reason. He led the pair of agents out and locked the door behind him.

 

Verfall forced herself to crawl closer towards the wall, chest heaving with fatigue. 

 

Winter shuffled back to her, dropping to his knees as his hand came close to her face. She flinched away, stopping her pathetic movements and curling into a protective ball.

 

“No- no- sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

Winter whispered, pulling his hand back.

 

Verfall blinked several times, mind hazy. 

 

Winter’s hand lifted again, hesitant, before placing his hand in her nest of sweaty hair. She closed her eyes, melting at the feeling as he pulled strands of hair away from her face. 

 

His movement hadn’t had such warm intent for- for decades.

 

He gently moved his arm under her shoulders, pulling her closer into his chest. She shuddered at the cold of his metal arm, but found it welcoming once it didn’t grow unbearable. She curled into his chest as he scooted into the far corner of the room.

 

“Was my fault.” She muttered. “I’m sorry.”

 

He shook his head in refusal, stubborn even without the rest of his personality. His metal hand was gentle as he placed it on her forehead. She exhaled at the cold, the metal plates shifting ever so often.

 

They remained silent for a long time, the soft hum of his metal arm the only sound in the room. 

 

She knew Winter didn’t remember anything- didn’t remember Howard or the way he recognized him with a gaze of confusion and terror. She knew James might’ve wanted her to do more of something. She knew he wouldn’t want her to get hurt in the process.

 

Her eyes fluttered open, moving to gaze up at Winter as he stared a few feet ahead of him. She would’ve thought he wasn’t thinking at all, but the small furrow of his brows- the slight concern- made her scarcely curious and worried.

 

The Soldier is not capable of expressing emotions.

 

What a lie.

 

“There are more.” His voice was soft. “Of us. Sir said so. Said they would be better than us.”

 

Verfall swallowed, wincing as she struggled to sit up. Winter placed a hand under her back, helping her maneuver so she would lay back on his chest.

 

“What?” She breathed hoarsely.

 

His eyes shifted to the side of her face.

 

“He said there are five Soldier’s, better, stronger, faster. He wants us to evaluate them today.” He hesitated. “Will he- are they- you are important, you are good, you’re a good weapon so- are they- going to decommission you?”

 

Verfall’s heart seized at how much he cared about her rather than himself. The concern in his eyes only worsened at her silence and she cleared her throat.

 

“No.” She assured. “They won’t.”

 

There was a pause, and then-

 

“Will they decommission me?”

 

Verfall tilted her head up, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck. Her hands reached up to grab tightly to his, brushing her finger against the palm of his metal hand, tracing the little grooves.

 

“No.” She said firmly. “You’re very important. You’re the best weapon. They won’t.”

 

Winter tilted his head, hair falling into his face unceremoniously as his tense shoulders loosened. He shut his eyes for a moment.

 

“Okay.” He sounded convinced.

 

Which he should’ve, since they’d been the best weapons HYDRA had ever utilized. They hadn’t rebelled drastically, nor had they tried to run away for the last few decades. They had learned their lessons from punishments and tried to be good. In fact, they’d had a really good track record for their past missions. So much so that no bloody punishments had been ordered upon them- although there were those few agents who were more interested in feeding their power trip rather than HYDRA itself. 

 

Howard’s case was. . .special- a one time case that wouldn’t happen again.

 

So yes, Verfall liked to think they’d done enough to remain useful because they were still so powerful and quick and- and useful.

 

The door to the cell started unlocking and Verfall removed herself from Winter’s arms, tucking into the corner in a feeble attempt to hide. Winter moved in front of her like a shield, expression growing blank and passive as Karpov appeared 

 

“Стоять и следовать.”

 

Stand and follow.

 

He ordered.

 

Karpov’s eyes were indifferent as he waited for the pair, who sprang to their feet. 

 

Verfall staggered only for a moment before catching her balance and ducking her head, keeping her eyes low to the floor as they stepped behind him. Their handler’s footsteps were quiet and carefully placed as they turned down a long hallway, passing the wide cavern holding the chair. They entered another open area which was rather wide and held multiple different cabinets, desks, and machinery. 

 

In the center of it all was a cell that looked more like a cage for exotic animals, tall enough to tower over them, and wide enough to fit at least ten people inside with leisure space.

 

There were five towering soldiers sitting on a thick metal bench, two technicians dressed in lab coats, and four agents wearing head gear that protected their faces. She and Winter wouldn’t lash out enough to harm their skulls unless they did something against protocol. . .did that mean the others were-

 

Karpov unlocked the bar door, pushing it open with a soft creak. 

 

As soon as the pair entered, the agents moved their hands to the batons by their sides, looking agitated as they were led to stand at the very far side of the cage. 

 

The soldiers bore holes into their heads as they followed every single movement the two weapons made. Verfall stood tall, a foreboding force alongside Winter who regarded the others coldly, his metal arm whirring and shifting.

 

“Джозеф, встань.”

 

Josef, stand.

 

Karpov said firmly and the Caucasian man sitting closest to them rose to his feet.

 

He was tall, just the same height as the pair who widened their stance instinctively.

 

“Верфаль.”

 

Verfall.

 

She blinked, shifting her gaze to Karpov who held a circular device in his hand. He spun it clockwise and she slowly shuffled her feet together, remaining poised and relaxed.

 

“Внимательно следите за ним.”

 

Watch them closely.

 

He continued and she resisted the urge to furrow her eyebrows.

 

The order wasn’t clear but she was smart enough to get the gist of it. She was to step in if something was to go utterly wrong. She stepped to the side of Karpov blankly, leaving enough room for Winter and Josef to engage in combat. She activated her abilities and observed the molecules thrumming in the air.

 

“Cпарринги.”

 

Spar.

 

Karpov ordered, his eyes flicking between the two soldiers.

 

Winter lunged forwards, using the momentum from his legs to throw a quick punch with his metal arm. Josef jumped into action, blocking it with his right arm. He tilted his torso back to avoid a right hook from Winter.

 

Verfall’s eyes tracked their movements, her shoulders tense and her body slowly lowering into a crouch. 

 

Josef continued to defend himself as Winter tried to pummel his face with his metal arm again. 

 

Josef grabbed onto his hand, barely avoiding the metal threatening to tear his face apart. He turned Winter around fiercely as he tried to reach him with his fist. The metal plates in his arm screeched as Josef glared almost animalistically.

 

Winter’s eyes flicked up to him as Josef slammed his arm into his upper shoulder. He let out a grunt of pain as Josef threw him upwards, roundhouse kicking him in the abdomen. Winter went flying into the cell bars.

 

Verfall swung her arm out, stopping him before he could slam into the metal. He hit the ground with a clang.

 

Josef’s eyes were focused on her now, his breathing heavy as adrenaline sped through him.

 

She kept her stare on Winter as he pushed himself to stand, his hair dangling in front of his face as he glared a few feet in front of him. Verfall resisted the urge to rush to his side, knowing it would only hurt the small bit of pride he had.

 

He hadn’t lost, not exactly, because he hadn’t been told to kill. Winter on a mission to kill was nearly impossible to stop. 

 

Verfall tilted her head.

 

The order wasn’t fair.

 

“Очень хорошо, Иосиф.”

 

Very good, Josef.

 

Karpov complimented as he crossed his arms over his chest.

 

His eyes moved to Winter, disappointment so clearly radiating off of him. Winter kept his head down as he stood to his feet, his eyes mostly blank.

 

A technician stepped forward to take Josef’s heart rate and Verfall’s eyes narrowed as Josef’s veins pulsed at his neck. She noticed the tension in his body growing worse as his hand suddenly clenched. 

 

She was prepared when he lashed out, grabbing the back of the technician's neck and slamming his face into the ground. A deadly crack resounded and she knew he was dead- or dying, at least. 

 

One of the agents slammed a baton into Josef’s back, other agents stepping forwards to join him. 

 

Josef slowly turned, and suddenly the other four soldiers jumped to their feet.

 

“Солдат, вытащи меня отсюда!”

 

Soldier, get me out of here!

 

Karpov’s usual calm and controlled voice was frantic and nervous as he cocked his pistol, pointing it towards the soldier’s besides Winter’s head.

 

One of the soldiers- a woman- push kicked one of the agents into the cell bars, an angry snarl plastered on her face. 

 

Winter stalked forwards with an arm around Karpov protectively. His head was held a little higher, his back straight and content as he guided his handler out of the cell.

 

He might’ve lost the sparring match but he was listening to Karpov while the others weren’t. That immediately put him on a higher pedestal.

 

Verfall remained in her crouched position, even if everything in her told her to run. She watched the chaos unfold as the agents fell to the ground like ants, useless against the super soldiers raging within the cage. A technician was slammed into the ground, spine cracking.

 

Winter punched one of the soldiers with half force from his metal arm. The soldier went flying as he made it to the exit. His hand curled around the cell door and his eyes wandered to Verfall for a split second. 

 

She clicked her tongue twice.

 

Even if he couldn’t exactly hear the sound, he saw the motion and slammed the door shut. 

 

“Их выбивать, Верфаль!”

 

Knock them out, Verfall!

 

Karpov shouted.

 

Verfall moved swiftly to her feet as Josef’s eyes snapped to her. 

 

He stalked towards her and she raised her arms, palms forward, fingers curled. Pure white energy circled her fingertips before unfurling across her arms and down her torso. Josef moved to kick her hard in the side when the buzzing energy exploded across the cell.

 

Blinding white tendrils sped towards the super soldiers and she disrupted the connection of their brains.

 

They failed to keep their eyes open, stumbling on their feet before collapsing to the ground, joining agents with broken bones and bloodied faces, chest heaving.

 

Her eyes swept the room as she lowered her hands to her sides.

 

The two technicians in the room were dead, the other agents moaning and groaning in agony.

 

She glanced at Karpov.

 

She’d been good. She’d done something to redeem herself of disobeying him. She’d listened to him and that meant she was good. 

 

Winter had listened too, which meant they’d both been good and it would make Karpov content with them. It would make him happy, and he’d give them approval and they wouldn’t be decommissioned because the other soldier’s had been bad, they’d disobeyed, but the Verfall Soldier and the Winter Soldier had listened which meant they were important and useful and good.

 

Nothing was different with Karpov’s expression, but she did catch a small glimmer of pride in between his eyes. 

 

She didn’t let herself remain relieved as she stepped over the crumpled bodies on the ground, approaching her handler. Karpov moved next to Winter, opening the door to allow her out. 

 

He stared at her, before hesitantly raising his hand. He beckoned her forwards and she stepped towards him. He waved his hand and she slowly lowered her head.

 

She froze when his hand gently glided over her head.

 

“Хорошая работа.”

 

Good job. 

 

She exhaled softly.

 

“Двоих вполне достаточно.”

 

Two is enough.

 

He nodded to himself, before walking further out of the area and down a familiar hall. 

 

Verfall pressed closer to Winter, a look of relief flickering between both their eyes. They were going to be placed in cryo, and finally get a few seconds of rest- of quiet- to themselves. There was an eagerness to her shoulders- she’d been good and they were being rewarded, she’d been good, good-

 

The hallway, which held a few chattering agents, instantly quieted down as their eyes landed on the two towering figures following the Colonel. Karpov didn’t give them much attention, instead leading them away from prying eyes and towards another hall.

 

He stopped in front of a familiar glass door, opening the door to reveal a familiar bright eyed face.

 

“Yello.” Volya saluted cheerfully to Karpov, whose eyebrows twitched.

 

Volya’s eyes moved to the two soldiers behind him and he waved as they carefully entered their storage room. 

 

It was identical to the ones she was used to: two metal tables with heavy duty cuffs, two very expensive glass cryostasis chambers pushed to one side, a foot apart. The sinks and cabinets looked brand new as four tall glasses awaited them.

 

Two of the drinks were a deep purple, and the other were a translucent blue, light in color and impossible to drink.

 

But she was used to it now, and so was Winter.

 

She strode towards her designated table, sitting atop it swiftly. Her eyes flicked to Winter who mirrored her movements. He noticed her gaze and nodded to her in acknowledgement.

 

They picked up the purple smoothie-like drink in a synchronized motion, draining it with one long gulp. Once they finished with the first glass, they grasped the second, thicker and more congealed one. 

 

Verfall blinked, staring at the blinding ceiling light as she resisted the urge to throw up- don’t make a mess, Ver. She placed the glass down with a tiny clink. 

 

A nameless technician approached Winter, who remained relaxed. He placed a thick mask over his face.

 

One of the technicians moved to approach Verfall and Winter’s posture immediately stiffened, growing hostile. No one was allowed to go near her, much less place the mask connected to the most vulnerable part of her body- her neck.

 

“Heyo!” Volya huffed as he quickly intercepted the new lab technician. 

 

“У тебя есть предсмертное желание?”

 

Do you have a death wish?

 

He frowned, not in an unfriendly tone but sounding genuinely confused.

 

The technician blinked and his senior appeared beside him, pulling him away with a stern look. 

 

Winter’s eyes remained on Verfall, his metal hand clenching and unclenching in his lap as he stared. Volya held his hands up in surrender and Verfall relaxed when Winter shifted to face her, his hands brushing delicately against the back of her neck as he clipped the tiny metal keeping her mask in place.

 

He turned to Karpov who shot him a gaze of approval.

 

A few technicians started to disable Winter’s arm, removing some plates and playing with a few wires. Another technician took their glasses, dropping them into the sink carefully.

 

Verfall felt herself stiffen instinctively as she mentally readied herself for entering a state of nothingness. It wasn’t the unconsciousness that unsettled her, it was the fact she would close her eyes then re-open them in what felt like minutes, only to realize she was in a completely different year with completely different people.

 

Her time in cryostasis was too short.

 

The technicians left Winter alone, and Verfall glanced up at him. He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment before pulling away and turning to face the other direction.

 

Silent reassurance.

 

Verfall faced forwards as they waited for their cryostasis chambers to boot up and circulate. 

 

“Значит, мы не отправляем их в Америку?”

 

So we’re not sending them to America?

 

Karpov questioned as he spoke to the older man.

 

Verfall knew she wasn’t supposed to listen in on her superior’s conversations but she couldn’t help it because they were just speaking so loud.

 

Her eyes shifted to Winter who was as still as a statue.

 

But she knew he was listening too. It was impossible not to. Their enhanced hearing may have been a little too enhanced, not that a normal person couldn’t hear their hushed voices.

 

“Американское отделение согласилось сдать оружие в аренду. Мы также согласились

 

The American branch agreed to lease the weapons. We also agreed.

 

The Colonel across him continued.

 

Verfall carefully controlled her blank expression at the words. She didn’t really know what to think of them. She was numb to being human- in fact if someone treated her like a person she would think they might’ve gone the slightest bit crazy. 

 

“В Красную комнату? В КГБ?”

 

To the Red Room? In the KGB?

 

Karpov raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

 

The other Colonel shrugged.

 

“Если не хочешь идти, Пирс вызвался добровольцем.”

 

If you don’t want to go, Pierce volunteered.

 

He said suggestively.

 

Karpov crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall as he looked between the quiet pair.

 

“Пирс? Та блондинка?”

 

Pierce? That blonde?

 

He questioned and his comrade nodded.

 

That name- Pierce- that was. . .Verfall blinked slowly. The Steve lookalike genuinely scared her for more reasons than one. He immediately had Winter’s respect because somewhere inside of him recognized the man as Steve. He held one of the most manipulative demeanors she’d ever seen in her entire life- Dr. Schaffer was at the top of that ladder. And he saw them as true weapons- not soldiers on the battlefield like most Russian’s did, like Karpov did- but things to use at their disposal.

 

James Rumlow had reasons to be cautious of him, and Verfall trusted him more than she trusted anyone else within HYDRA really, except for Winter.

 

Volya approached the pair, mindful of Winter’s stare.

 

“C’mon, let’s get you guys in.” He said with a smile, his Russian accent light.

 

Winter obeyed quietly as he stood to his feet. 

 

Despite Volya’s easy going and somewhat immature attitude, he had high enough clearance to give them orders. Verfall didn’t mind. She kinda liked his personality, though it did make her wonder why he was in HYDRA of all places.

 

The glass tube to their cryostasis chamber had risen, and cold air was seeping outwards. 

 

Verfall entered her chamber first, letting the technicians strap her into the machine and connect her to several different wires to keep her in place.

 

Winter watched the technicians, who nervously backed away from her once they were done. He relaxed once they were far gone from her.

 

She shifted her head up to look at him.

 

Winter clicked his tongue twice.

 

As the chamber lowered, two clicks left her lips, before she let the cold bury into her skin.

Chapter 60: Fifty Nine

"Pain only makes you stronger.”

Red Room, ???

July, 1995

SHE FELT WARM AIR UNFURL across her skin, white lights burning into her eyes as droplets of water escaped her lashes. Her eyelids dropped as two pairs of hands gripped either side of her arm, pulling her forwards and out of her cryostasis chamber. She expected to be hefted onto a metal table, so she was confused by the warmth wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close into a block of more warmth. Her shivering stopped sooner than it usually did, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned against the heat-pack. 

 

She could hear the sound of someone’s heartbeat pressed against her ear. Her brows furrowed. That wasn’t right- the warmth was moving and breathing and alive. Her eyes snapped open and almost expected to see Dr. Schaffer. Instead she caught sight of a familiar blonde tuft of hair, deep blue eyes following her movements as he kept a gentle grip around her shoulders. Something inside of her told her to pull away, but he- the not-Steve, Pierce- was warm and she was still half frozen.

 

Her eyes wandered around the room cautiously. Everything looked different. The walls were white, a pure white and not cement gray like it’d been last time. There were two technicians dressed in lab coats, and an absence of guards. 

 

Maybe Pierce was arrogant too.

 

Verfall lowered her eyes as Pierce guided her towards the single metal table in the room. That was different too. There was only one table, even though Winter’s cryostasis chamber was pressed to the side, which was currently being monitored by the technicians as the machine whirred.

 

“Let go, Verfall.” 

 

She blinked to clear her head.

 

Her hands were clasped tightly around Pierce’s arms, so tightly her nails had formed deep semicircles, threatening to draw blood. His hands cupped her elbows, still gentle even though she knew he must be in pain. She released her nails immediately, guilt swelling in her chest as she ducked her head. 

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” She muttered almost frantically, clasping her hands behind her back.

 

Pierce rubbed his arms, exhaling a small sigh.

 

“That’s alright.” He said softly.

 

Verfall swallowed nervously, because it most definitely was not alright. 

 

She’d almost injured him and he was- he was- well, he wasn’t a handler, especially since a permitted transfer had not occurred. A main handler or a mission handler would have to do such a thing and neither were here. The only other way he could become their designated handler was to override protocol by having proof of a permitted transfer, or killing their prior handlers.

 

She hoped it wasn’t the latter.

 

He tucked a finger under her chin and she looked up at him, shoulders drawing inward as she flinched, even though he was so gentle. His lips pursed as he examined her face.

 

He let go as Winter’s cryostasis chamber opened. He turned, stepping towards the Soldier who tilted forwards as the wires keeping him in place were detached.

 

Verfall kept her head down but made sure she could see Winter in her peripheral vision as Pierce moved to him. 

 

His hands gently gripped the bottom of Winter’s elbows, and the Soldier shuddered as he leaned into the unexpected warmth, just as she had. They stood there for some time, before Pierce led him to the metal table she was sitting on.

 

Winter exhaled with relief when he saw her. 

 

Pierce looked between both of them before clearing his throat. Their attention shifted to him quickly.

 

“The Soviet Union dissolved on December 26 of 1991. It is currently July of 1995.” He explained. “Colonel Karpov went rogue and took the Winter Soldier files. Since your primary handler is missing, protocol states you are to report to your mission handler. Agent Rumlow has given primary handler ownership to me.” He paused, grabbing a circular device smoothly from his pocket.

 

Verfall’s body tensed and she flinched, ducking her head and attempting to hide in plain sight.

 

He spun it clockwise, and Verfall tilted her head up slightly.

 

If what she knew about James was true, he wouldn’t have given the thing willfully. Her stomach dropped at that.

 

“My name is Alexander Pierce and I am the leader of HYDRA’s American sector.” He continued, his eyes sharp. “You are to obey me. Do you understand?”

 

Winter observed their new handler’s face. Something about his eyes were familiar- the bright golden locks of hair, the command in his voice- the. . .command in his voice. Like a- like a Captain. The Soldier blinked furiously. 

 

The handler- Pierce wanted an answer.

 

“Affirmative, sir.” He responded gruffly.

 

Pierce’s eyes flicked to Verfall and she stared to a little left of his head.

 

“Affirmative, sir.” She replied.

 

Pierce crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“Good.” He said firmly, before softly adding- “you don’t need to call me sir when we are alone. You can choose what you want to call me.”

 

Verfall swallowed nervously, locking her knees together as her fingers fiddled with her thigh holster. 

 

There were two very dangerous words in that sentence- choose and want. 

 

They weren’t allowed to want, for one, and they weren’t allowed to choose either. Quite frankly, his words were literal grenades waiting to be stepped on, and Verfall had no intent on willingly doing so.

 

Dr. Schaffer had done that many times before, and if she ever chose wrong, he’d do something that usually ended in pain. But if she responded correctly, he would be content or reward her.

 

Except, she couldn’t read someone’s mind, so how the hell was she supposed to know what they didn’t want?

 

Winter seemed uncertain to, by the small shifting of his metal plates. He gazed up at Pierce with a hint of confusion and the man’s lips tilted into a smile.

 

“We are currently in the Red Room.” He stated, completely ignorant of their uncertainty. “It is a facility that trains young girls to become a Black Widow. Only those who pass every test, only those who become perfect, will qualify.”

 

He paused.

 

Verfall blinked.

 

Young girls becoming assassins? Training them to be perfect?

 

What?

 

“Your new mission is to train the girls here, and rebuild them into usable weapons. You are to follow orders given by agents. However, as this is your mission, you must execute it in a way which is most functional. If an agent's orders do not further assist your mission, the order is not to be followed.” 

 

Verfall realized he didn’t trust the agents here, which were most likely his agents. Their ability to say no was non-existent. But he’d given them enough leeway to do something short of it by the way he phrased his words.

 

Odd, she decided, Pierce was odd.

 

His eyes shifted between them.

 

“Do you understand?” He questioned.

 

Winter’s eyes flicked to Verfall, and she decided to speak for both of them. 

 

“Affirmative-“

 

She could call him a lot of things. She could stay safe and go with Pierce, but Pierce sounded disrespectful- like she was jeering at him. Saying Alexander sounded like something his mother would use to scold him. 

 

Her eyes moved to his face and she could see the flicker of amusement between his eyes, like this was some sort of game. She supposed it was, but she’d played this game a lot, and she’d known what Dr. Schaffer had wanted. 

 

Pierce wasn’t half as unstable as him.

 

“-Sasha.” She settled with the russian nickname to his first name, and could see his surprise.

 

Winter stiffened. Maybe she’d said the wrong thing and he should’ve spoken first. After all, surprise was never a good expression to receive from their handlers.

 

Verfall stared at Pierce, waiting to see if her gamble had been terribly wrong and they’d both be in more pain then they deserved.

 

He chuckled.

 

Relief settled within both of them.

 

“Good.” He smiled. “Let’s meet the girls.”

 

He turned on his heel, padding towards the door. Verfall hopped off the table with Winter as they exited the room, entering a brightly lit hall with black walls. 

 

Her expression grew blank as they followed Pierce towards a glass room. There were guards in front of the door as Verfall’s eyes moved to the glass window.

 

Inside were four lines of girls, ten in each row, grouped by age. Six, to eight, to ten, to twelve year olds. They all wore the same uniform- a white tank top with black shorts, their hair knotted in one perfect braid, topped with a bow. They all faced one woman at the left of the room, a cane in her hand as her eyes roamed them coldly. 

 

Apart from the students and their teacher, were guards, four to be exact, in every corner, their guns lowered but ready to be pulled.

 

Pierce pushed open the door and the pair entered behind him, impeccably silent. The girls didn’t turn their heads to look at them, instead remaining absolutely still. If Verfall didn’t see the rise and fall of their chests she would’ve thought they were dead.

 

“Madame B.” Pierce greeted. “I hope you find their skills satisfactory.”

 

The woman’s cold gaze disappeared as a smile appeared on her face. She nodded.

 

Pierce gave Winter and Verfall one last look before turning on his heel and exiting the room, stepping down the hall and disappearing from view. They turned to Madame B for direction and the woman eyed them before tapping her cane once against the ground.

 

The girls turned to face the two weapons.

 

“Students, this is the Winter Soldier,” she stepped to the front, beside Winter, before waving to Verfall, “and the Verfall Soldier. They will be your teachers for combat and espionage, and will personally train the top four students in each class.”

 

Something shifted in the air at her words. There was a presence of competitiveness that brewed tension. It was barely noticeable but it was there. 

 

Verfall’s eyes scanned the chil-the students. Their eyes shined with determination, their emotions as carefully controlled as possible. The older ones were better at concealing them, but the younger ones- the youngest ones- struggled to remain as blank faced. 

 

Some of them looked uncertain but tried to mirror their senior’s movements. Others looked tearful, trying to keep their heads up but failing to keep them horizontal to the ground. 

 

One of them in particular- a blonde-haired girl- caught her eye. There was nothing different in her posture compared to the other tearful girls. Back straight, head slightly tilted down, hands fiddling with her shorts. But her eyes- her eyes, Verfall noted, occasionally flicked to the side, towards a red-haired girl standing in the fourth line. 

 

Madame B was saying something, something that was directed towards the students. Verfall couldn’t hear her very well as her attention remained on the little blonde-haired girl.

 

It was so obvious she didn’t want to be here- none of the young girls wanted to be here because they hadn’t been conditioned enough. Verfall vaguely wondered where they’d come from. 

 

Why would a horde of children voluntarily become mindless weapons?

 

They weren’t voluntary, that was for sure. 

 

The line of twelve year olds started moving and Verfall pivoted to the side as they were escorted out by Madame B. There was a moment of calm as their footsteps echoed within the room, then a blur of blonde caught Verfall’s attention.

 

Fast, she thought, as the girl she’d been observing sprinted out of line, towards the red-haired girl she’d been staring at. 

 

The other girls tensed, the twelve year olds stopping in their tracks as Madame B turned. Her eyes settled on the little six year old, who swallowed as she gazed pleadingly at the red-haired girl.

 

The red-haired girl blinked slowly.

 

It was the small taps of Madame B’s cane that made one of the guards saunter towards the little girl, his rifle swung over his shoulder as he reached for her.

 

The blonde-haired girl burst into action, grabbing the older man’s handgun strapped to his hip. The agent swiftly spun his rifle and pulled the trigger. 

 

Except his finger was covered with white tendrils of energy, thrumming around him. He tried not to look alarmed as his hands were covered in more smoky fog, forcing his gun to lower without his permission. 

 

All eyes shifted to Verfall as her fingers twitched, covered in white static energy.

 

“It is anti-productive to eliminate her.” She said smoothly as she glanced at the blonde-haired girl.

 

The red-haired girl narrowed her eyes at Verfall, and she could feel the hostility oozing from her. They must’ve been good friends, Verfall assumed as she turned to the little one.

 

“What is your name?” She asked.

 

The blonde-haired girl's hands trembled as she pointed the gun at Verfall. But Verfall didn’t even bat an eyelash.

 

“Y-Yelena. Belova.” She stammered.

 

Verfall tilted her head.

 

“Do you want to live?” She asked bluntly.

 

The girl- Yelena- trembled, her hands still tight around the gun.

 

“Yes.” She answered.

 

Verfall placed a hand on the barrel of the pistol, pushing it downward. Yelena’s grip on the gun loosened and Verfall caught it before it hit the ground.

 

“Then you must do what they ask. And be the best.” She stood to her full height, handing the gun to the agent who swallowed nervously, taking the weapon from her.

 

She’d forgotten how extraordinary her abilities were. The agents at the facility usually knew some extent of her abilities, otherwise they’d fail in keeping her contained. But this place- the Red Room- was not owned by a person who was her handler. 

 

So they wouldn’t know much of anything, really.

 

“If you are not the best, you are dispensable- garbage. You will be killed. Understand?” She said coolly.

 

The little girl stared up at her with wide eyes.

 

She softened her gaze and the girl swallowed nervously.

 

Please understand, she pleaded with her eyes, please.

 

“I understand.” Yelena bowed her head like she’d stolen candy when she wasn’t supposed to.

 

Verfall turned her head to stare at Madame B with an unblinking gaze. The woman’s sharp eyes sparkled with content. She nodded once and the twelve year olds were further escorted. The red haired girl seemed to hesitate for a moment before she turned and walked in line.

 

Verfall’s gaze dropped to the little blonde girl, then shifted to Winter.

 

His eyes were focused on the red-haired girl, as if he was trying to decipher her previous minuscule movements. He glanced at Verfall once he noticed her eyes.

 

They’re only children, she wanted to say, but it would not matter to him. Not as much as it should’ve, anyway.

 

Yelena was guided back to her row by the agent who was cold, but not cruel. From her position, her eyes remained on Verfall, uncertainty flickering in her gaze.

 

Verfall tilted her head in a tiny reassuring nod.

Chapter 61: Sixty

"Dear good luck, we aren’t playing hide and seek. I searched for you for many years. It’s time to come out now.”

Red Room, ???

July, 1995

VERFALL TRACKED EVERY MOVEMENT the two six year old girls made on the training mat. She’d been standing there, arms crossed over her chest, simply watching. The remaining six and eight year olds lined either side of the mat. Yelena was faster than Verfall had assumed, as the girl threw a punch and managed to land it on the brunette across from her. Their training, Verfall had learned, was brutal, although it was less strict from what she’d experienced back in ‘39. But that had been different, because she’d been in her twenties. These girls- they weren’t even teens, much less adults.

 

She forced herself to be numb at the revelation as she momentarily glanced at Winter, who was across the room, in front of two other mats. One mat was surrounded by ten year olds. The other was surrounded by twelve year olds, two fighters on each mat. Winter was watching them closely, cold in his demeanor as the girls fought to break each other’s arms- the exercise that he'd decided on today.

 

Verfall was relieved when she’d been given orders to supervise the younger ones since she’d taken an instant liking to Yelena. The girl had fire, and a spirit that didn’t want to be broken. If Verfall was being honest, the girl reminded her of Peggy, and somewhat of herself, before she’d become whatever she was now. 

 

Winter, on the other hand, had taken interest in the twelve year old red-haired girl- Natalia Romanova. He’d been more intrigued by her connection to the blonde girl. So intrigued, that he’d asked Verfall if the older, red-haired girl was the younger one's handler. 

 

The question had been asked with hesitance because that conclusion, even to Winter as he said it, seemed impossible. Verfall had told him no- they didn’t seem like sisters, at least not by blood.

 

But blood wasn’t all that made two girls sisters.

 

The girls usually spent most of their mornings in a classroom. After breakfast they’d train with the two soldiers until lunch, where they’d be taken to a theatre room filled with individual TV’s that blared with odd cartoons- like Betty Boop. . .but not quite right. Afterwards they’d dance ballet and practice the use of various different weaponry before ending the day in their beds- cuffed.

 

Verfall snapped her eyes back to the two girls on the mat, observing the girl across from Yelena. 

 

She was Rank 5, compared to Yelena’s low Rank 7. Even though Yelena’s speed was remarkable, her ability to fight in hand-to-hand combat was okay, at most. Even worse, she faltered in engaging combat, while other girls seemed to have grown numb in fighting each other. Like Rank 5, who did not hesitate in roundhouse kicking the young girl in the side.

 

Thus, the fight might’ve seemed unfair.

 

But, Verfall needed to push Yelena, otherwise the girl would remain at the bottom of their ranks. And she would be killed.

 

Natalia, on the other hand, was at the top of her group. She was Rank 1 with flexibility and agility unparalleled to the students she was grouped with.

 

Verfall knew Natalia had the determination and vigilance to keep her rank. 

 

Yelena would have to crawl up the ranks, unfortunately.

 

Yelena jumped into the air, swiftly kicking up one leg and using that momentum to kick up the other. The other girl- Advika- dodged the attack and punched her in the neck. Yelena barely dodged, her breathing heavy as she sent a right hook to the girl’s side. But the girl was faster, blocking it with her arm and landing a swift hit on her nose.

 

Yelena grimaced, stumbling back as her nose throbbed. 

 

Advika immediately withdrew, straightening as she pulled her fists back.

 

Verfall had decided their task would be less violent than Winter’s, after all, they were too young to break arms. Besides, Winter had agreed with her training schedule anyway.

 

She clapped her hands once. 

 

Advika stepped backwards, off the mat, as Yelena pushed herself to her feet.

 

Verfall knelt in front of her, regenerating the blood vessels that’d broken around her face. 

 

She was relieved that she’d been granted the use of her abilities. Perhaps that was for the worst though, since it meant the students could break their bones during training. 

 

Yelena looked at her as she healed her face, and Verfall let her expressionless eyes grow soft. A silent look of reassurance. Yelena seemed to straighten under her gaze, marching off the mat with a new air of confidence, like she had the determination to prove herself to her.

 

Verfall didn’t know what to think of that.

 

She cleared her throat as she looked at the girls.

 

“Tell me, what are Advika’s strengths? Weaknesses?” She asked.

 

A few of the girls raised their hands. Verfall’s eyes flickered over them before she chose Rank 3: Alyona, six years old,  an impressive knife wielder.

 

“She is fast with her fists.” She said, as maturely as possible, even though her voice sounded childish- because she was a child. “But does not use her legs enough.”

 

The girl beside her held her arm up.

 

Rank 1, Elizabeth, eight years old.

 

“Yes, Elizabeth?” Verfall nodded firmly.

 

“Advika is very good at using the momentum of her legs to aid her fists in attacking. But she fails to use her momentum through her legs.” She clarified further.

 

Verfall nodded with approval and Alyona failed to keep her jealousy unexpressed. She caught the sight, and moved to stand in front of her.

 

“Do not feel jealous.” She said tonelessly. “Jealousy only leads to death. Remember that.”

 

Alyona swallowed thickly, but nodded anyway. 

 

“Good. Both of you are correct, however-“

 

Yelena’s hand shot up into the air, and Verfall tilted her head.

 

“Yelena?” She questioned.

 

“Her overuse of legs is going to end up in less energy- she’ll get tired fast. Her fists are strong, but sloppy since the amount of strength she puts behind it is too much for her to control.” She explained. 

 

Verfall resisted the urge to smile as she nodded expressionlessly.

 

“Yes. It is good to put strength behind your punches, but you must conserve your energy at the same time. Unless you lose consciousness, fighting your opponent is really a war of endurance. Whoever can remain on their feet will live.” She said curtly. “Now, can someone tell me Yelena’s strengths and weaknesses?”

 

Elizabeth raised her hand, her eyebrow cocked. It was the only expression she’d seen on the girl, who was learning to be better- which meant being emotionless.

 

“Yes, Elizabeth.” She called.

 

“Yelena lost. What is the reason to observe her strengths if there are none?” Elizabeth asked bluntly.

 

Yelena’s composure didn’t change, even though Verfall knew she must’ve felt something.

 

“There are strengths in every person. You are not born knowing how to understand all words or know how to calculate math.” She said. “Yelena has strengths, much like you do. She is simply yet to advance. However, advancements take time.”

 

Her voice was cold, her words sharp. 

 

She wasn’t particularly interested in protecting Yelena- the little girl would have to learn that herself, alongside the other six year olds. 

 

Her words were just true. You don’t start out fighting with unparalleled strength as soon as you step on a mat. Only with practice could you end up with such refined skills.

 

“Then she is fast.” Elizabeth said. “She is fast without using too much energy, and is able to use her legs efficiently. But she lacks strength in her fists.”

 

Yelena held her head high at the older girls words, and Verfall nodded in agreement.

 

“Yes. She isn’t very good at putting enough force in each of her punches. However, she is phenomenal in speed. She lacks coordination, but that can be advanced through practice.” She said, turning to Yelena who shifted on her feet slightly.

 

She nodded once.

 

A disturbing crack filled the room and a sharp gasp of pain echoed within the room. Verfall paused, turning on her heel to see Natalia standing on her feet, blood trickling down her nose. 

 

But that hadn’t been the source of the noise.

 

Beneath her was her opponent, cradling her broken arm to her chest, heaving and her whole body trembling as she tried not to cry. 

 

Winter tilted his head back to her and jerked his head towards the girls on the mat.

 

“Alyona, Advika, spar.” Verfall ordered.

 

The pair stepped onto the mat and Verfall padded towards Winter. He tilted his head at her silently, eyes flicking to Natalia then the other girl. She blinked- his favoritism wasn’t obvious but she could tell it was there.

 

She approached Natalia first, her hand hi erin above her nose and clearing the blood from her face.

 

Natalia watched her with concealed awe, the throbbing in her nose intensifying for a moment before disappearing completely. Verfall ruffled the girl's hair, a movement that had her dumbfounded.

 

Verfall turned to the girl still cradling her broken arm. She crouched in front of her, fog covering her hands and travelling over the girl's arm. She let out a hiss of pain as her bone shifted and mended underneath her flesh.

 

Verfall drew her hand back, ruffling the girl’s hair as well before she glanced at Winter.

 

“Ten minutes.” He said.

 

Verfall blinked.

 

“We are to choose.” Her question sounded more of a statement.

 

Winter blinked slowly, as if she was incompetent.

 

Verfall pursed her lips, before nodding. 

 

Contrary to popular belief, Winter possessed a very stubborn  and downright sassy personality, just as much as he possessed real feelings. He’d expressed fear, concern, and sadness- every emotion which they were somewhat allowed to express. But Winter had adapted to expressing other emotions, and was capable of being a smartass.

 

At first, Verfall hadn’t believed what she’d been witnessing.

 

He’d send her a little side eye, a slight tilt of his chin, or a twitch of his eyebrows. She’d thought they were just random movements, with no significance. But they’d all meant something: annoyance, pride, amusement. He’d been hesitant in doing any minuscule actions to reveal his feelings, but James had tolerated him- so did Volya and Karpov, even though Karpov frowned upon it.

 

Verfall vaguely wondered what Pierce would think of. 

 

She walked back to her students, the two girls still rapidly throwing punches and kicks at each other. She crossed her arms over her chest, eyes darting back and forth as she observed them.

 

Rank 1 of the six year olds, Laura, and Rank 1 of the eight year olds, Elizabeth, were to be tutored by Verfall personally. And Verfall wouldn’t have disagreed, if not for Laura’s dangerously cocky attitude. Elizabeth was impressively good at most things- she excelled in combat, flexibility, and use of weaponry. Perhaps the one thing she lacked was remorse, but that was favorable. 

 

Laura was the complete opposite. She was a girl full of pride, too much emotion. She only excelled in combat because she was simply taller than the other six year olds.

 

If Verfall had to choose based on talent and skill, she would have to pick Yelena. In fact, Verfall would have ranked her 1 if her test results had been better. She hadn’t even failed any of the tests either. She’d scored perfectly on agility, intelligence, handling complex weaponry, and suppressing her emotions with absolute perfection. Sure, she might’ve not been as powerful as the others, but that was purely due to lack of muscle. 

 

In three years- or less- she would be a perfect candidate.

 

But she doubted Pierce would listen to what she had to say.

 

Ten minutes passed before Alyona withdrew as she stood to her feet, Advika holding her nose in the floor. Verfall stalked forwards and healed both of them as the room to the training rooms opened.

 

The two girls immediately rushed back into rank, their heads held high and their backs perfectly straight as Madame B walked into the room. 

 

Verfall turned to attention as well, Winter mirroring her movements shortly after.

 

She used her cane as a crutch, although Verfall doubted the older woman really needed it. The girls filed out of the room, the twelve year olds leading the group forwards. 

 

Verfall shuffled to Winter’s side as they waited for orders.

 

Madame B disappeared down the hall, leading the students without looking back at them. Moments after she disappeared, Pierce appeared on the other side of the hall, pushing open the door.

 

Verfall’s eyes shifted to the side of his head as Winter stiffened besides her. She remained still as Pierce approached both of them.

 

“Good afternoon, both of you.” He greeted.

 

Verfall blinked furiously. The right response had changed the other day. What was- what was-

 

“Good afternoon, Sasha.” Winter replied, followed by her hurried greeting.

 

Relief settled in her chest. 

 

Pierce had tweaked their base programming. Some protocols were different- like when to acknowledge superiors and answering questions with no response, because Pierce tried to trick them multiple times into wanting something and ended up tricking them every time because they weren’t allowed to not respond.

 

He hadn’t punished them then because it’d been an experiment- at least that’s what he’d said.

 

There were other things that changed to- like brutally killing agents was allowed if they ever messed up protocol.

 

Pierce tilted his head to the exit.

 

“Come with me. I want to hear your evaluations.” He said and Verfall swallowed nervously.

 

Winter sauntered forwards and Verfall followed beside him quietly. He knocked her hand against hers, and Verfall blinked.

 

Don’t mess up.

 

They exited the room and turned down the hall they’d come from, towards their cell- which consisted of four walls and a small cot that they usually took turns sleeping on. 

 

Pierce stopped at a door before their cell, pushing the mahogany wood open. The interior was rather barren, a single table with two chairs on each side the only thing in sight. Pierce seated himself on one of the sides, waving his hand at the other chairs.

 

Verfall and Winter moved, sitting across from him carefully as Pierce examined them.

 

“Winter,” he started calmly, “who excels most in both of your classes?”

 

Winter straightened, prepared for the question.

 

“Of the twelve year olds, Rank 1, Natalia Romanova. She excels in combat, intelligence, weapon handling, and espionage. She does not express emotions of jealousy, anger, or overconfidence.” He paused and Pierce hummed. “Of the ten year olds, Rank 1, Svetlana. She is excellent in weapon handling and combat. Her intelligence is currently dull but can be improved.”

 

Pierce looked at him with approval and Winter’s eyes brightened.

 

He’d given all the right answers, even if Rank 1 of the ten year olds didn’t deserve to be rank 1. If he’d said anything else he’d be disagreeing with whoever kept charge of their ranks before he intervened in their training. 

 

All Verfall had to do was play her part.

 

Pierce’s eyes flicked to her as he leaned his elbows against the desk, leaning his chin against his hands.

 

“And you, Verfall? Who excels most in both of your classes?” He questioned.

 

Verfall’s eyes flicked back and forth before clearing her throat.

 

“Of the eight year olds, Rank 1, Elizabeth. She excels in intelligence, weapon handling, and espionage. She is best at concealing emotions compared to the rest of her classmates.” She lowered her gaze, hesitant. “Of the six year olds, Rank 7, Yelena.”

 

Pierce’s eyebrows raised and she clenched her hands against her thighs.

 

Bad, that was bad and she was going to be in trouble- but it was the truth and she wasn’t allowed to lie-

 

“She excels in knife throwing, agility, flexibility, intelligence, and has skills in suppressing emotions, unlike Rank 1. All she lacks is strength, which can easily be improved, unlike personality and attitude.” She knew that from experience. “It is most likely she will rise in rank.”

 

She looked away as Pierce leaned back in his chair.

 

She could feel Winter tense beside her.

 

“If that’s what you’ve deduced.” Pierce finally said, his voice filled with approval- of content. “Winter, return to your cell, if you don’t mind.”

 

The Soldier stiffly stood from his seat, knowing the seeming choice given to him wasn’t a choice at all. He sent one look at Verfall- one of concern and disapproval- before disappearing out of the room.

 

She swallowed anxiously, clenching her hands against her thighs as she waited for Pierce to do something.

 

“Are you up for this mission?” Pierce spoke firmly. “Or do you sympathize with the girls here? Because of the horrors you’ve experienced?”

 

Verfall blinked, tilting her head, genuinely confused.

 

She didn’t sympathize with the girls because they were too young, and had no experience being injected with chemicals or overworked constantly. More importantly, they had no Dr. Schaffer.

 

She had to defend- had to defend-

 

“Dr. Schaffer didn’t let me experience horrors.” She blurted. “He protected me and kept me safe. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

Pierce’s eyes sparkled with surprise, his lips curling into a dangerous smile.

 

“Is it because he was your handler?” He asked.

 

“He was the original handler. The only original handler.” Verfall said firmly. “He is not replaceable.”

 

Pierce let out a disappointed sigh, before his chair screeched backwards as he stood. Verfall drew her shoulders inwards as he stepped around the table.

 

“I will give you a chance.” He drawled as he put a hand on her shoulder. “With this Yelena. If she fails the only test that matters, you will be strung up in a cell and whipped for insubordination.”

 

His nails dug deep into her shoulder. She ducked her head at the threat, squeezing her eyes shut as Pierce’s fingers left dents in her skin, through the sleeve of her tactical uniform.

 

“Do you understand?” His voice was just as soft and calm as it had been before, but it was laced with something more sinister.

 

She inhaled sharply.

 

“Affirmative, sir.”

Chapter 62: Sixty One

"Sometimes we survive by forgetting.”

Red Room, ???

August, 1995

IT WAS THE WHIMPERS that woke her up, the pure and pained sound reminiscent of an animal which echoed in the room. She didn’t move for some time, waiting for the sounds to stop. When they didn’t, she slowly sat up, as if rising from the dead. Her eyes focused on Winter, more specifically his hand, metal plates shifting as they dug into the steel keeping his cot up. 

 

She could see the metal warping.

 

That would lead to punishment, so she reluctantly stood to her feet, footsteps silent. She placed a hesitant hand on his metal shoulder, and his eyes snapped open. Verfall swallowed nervously at the sudden intense eyes staring at her, blank. The only thing that made her keep her hand there was the still, continuous whimpers that left his lips. 

 

Which meant his eyes were open, but he was still stuck in the nightmare roaming his head. 

 

She slowly tucked her arms under his chest and knees, picking him up with a small struggle as she removed him from the cot. He heaved, a guttural sound escaping his throat as his hands suddenly reached up to her arms, scratching and clawing at her as if she was stabbing him.

 

She withdrew her hands immediately, blood trickling down her forearms. Winter continued to huff, a loud whine leaving his lips, then-

 

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry, please, please- sir- I- I’ll be good,” he inhaled sharply, his eyes squeezing shut. “No- no- won’ta fight- can’t- won’t- ‘m sorry-“

 

He continued to ramble, pleas leaving his lips so fast that his words turned into nothing but gibberish. 

 

Verfall sat beside him, bringing his body close to her chest. She clutched onto him gently, nuzzling the crook of his neck as she muttered soft reassuring words. 

 

He shuddered at first, still apologizing, then his hand reached upwards to grasp the straps on her uniform, clutching onto her tightly like she’d disappear.

 

“Verfall?” He whispered hoarsely, and she cleared her throat, pulling him back slightly.

 

“Yes.” She replied, and Winter leaned his head back into her lap, hands shaking as his fingers curled around hers tightly.

 

“It- It hurts.” He winced. “Th-They- I was bad- and they hurt me.”

 

His eyes fluttered upwards.

 

“Hurt you.” 

 

Verfall blinked, then gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

 

“I’m not-” She paused. 

 

Her arm was bleeding, but it wasn’t a real wound. She wiped it against her side.

 

“-hurt. It was just a dream.” She assured.

 

He sniffled, still not really lucid. A few seconds passed, and Verfall caught the blankness in his eyes as he stared forwards without really seeing.

 

Verfall didn’t move, carefully watching the minuscule twitches of his face- his eyes. Finally, he seemed to come back to himself, and his gaze flicked right to her. He sat up silently, eyes narrowed. She lowered her head, slowly shuffling away from him. 

 

She wasn’t afraid of Winter, by any means, but she was cautious. Here, this cell wasn’t hers, or theirs- it was his. Without her abilities, it was very possible  she wouldn’t be able to stop the damage his metal arm could do- and she had no desire to test that. So she watched and waited as he settled himself in the corner of the room.

 

His metal palm scraped against the floor, his fingers dragging against it. 

 

Verfall stood, walking over to him and nestling herself into his side, he wrapped his metal arm around her waist, pulling her close like she would disappear.

 

They remained like that as the night plundered on. They wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again anyway. Some time passed before the locks to their door started clicking open. 

 

Verfall furrowed her eyebrows.

 

That was odd. Pier- Sash- Pierce never came to visit at night, of all times. 

 

The door creaked open, slowly, apprehensively, before a tuft of blonde and red hair appeared between the little space. 

 

Natalia pulled her head back, looking back and forth down the hall. Yelena gulped as she looked at the two teachers, before her eyes scanned the room. It was barren. Too barren. 

 

Verfall could hear the sound of footsteps- guards, rotating the halls. She stood swiftly to her feet, taking long strides as she grabbed Yelena’s small hand. She pulled her inside, causing Natalia to stumble forwards too- joined hands. Verfall shut the door behind the two, before her eyes dropped to the ring of keys clutched in Natalia’s hand.

 

How the hell-?

 

Winter’s eyes narrowed, drawing his knees up to his chest. 

 

Yelena opened her mouth to speak but Verfall covered her mouth, focused on the door as she waited for the footsteps to pass. After a few seconds she let go of her, straightening while she looked between them.

 

“What. Are you doing.” Winter grunted, a frown on his lips.

 

Natalia jutted her chin out stubbornly.

 

“We were looking for a room to train in.” She said in perfect english, her grip tight around Yelena’s hand. “Ms. B does not make rounds around the dorm at this hour until morning.”

 

Winter shifted his gaze to the keys in her hand.

 

“You are disobeying.” He said bluntly.

 

Verfall planted her feet firmly in front of the pair. 

 

Natalia gazed up at her with a hint of confusion. Yelena was too distracted by how gently Verfall was holding onto her.

 

“They are right.” She replied softly. “They need. . .extra practice. They did not mean to come here.”

 

Winter’s eyes flicked to her, metal hand clenching and unclenching by his side. For a few tense seconds, Verfall thought for a moment he might report them to their handler- like they were supposed to.

 

He seemed to dismiss the thought as he looked away. Locks of hair fell into his face. He made no move to fix it.

 

Verfall’s shoulders dropped with a feeling of- of- she couldn’t remember.

 

She turned to the two girls, crouching to their height.

 

“There’s a closet down the hall, first door to the left. It will be full of cargo and nothing else. There are no routine checks until breakfast.” She placed a gentle hand on both of their shoulders. “You can train there, but you must return the keys immediately after you unlock the room. Only then, you may train.”

 

Natalia pursed her lips and Yelena seemed to pout.

 

Now that they’d found the pair, they wanted to train with them- wanted more time- but Verfall couldn’t risk that. Not when Winter was already having a bad and unstable night, and especially not when Pier- Sa- Pierce would be there early in the morning to do his routine checks, which usually ended up with the trio just sitting in the cell, listening to whatever stories he had to tell.

 

It wasn’t cruel, or brutal. It was- it was nice, and that wasn’t- that wasn’t right.

 

“I’m sorry.” Verfall said gently as she patted Yelena’s head. “But we will train together later. You know that.”

 

Yelena shifted on her feet.

 

“And Winter will train you later as well.” She said as Natalia gazed at him.

 

She looked at her, lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, she chewed on her lip, then finally spoke.

 

“What is wrong with him?” 

 

Her voice was indifferent- cold even- but Verfall could see the nervous fiddling of her fingers. 

 

She was worried.

 

Verfall would be too, if she’d never seen Winter sulking in a corner, ready to kill anyone who stepped too close. 

 

She let loose a soft sigh, standing to her feet as she grabbed Yelena and Natalia’s hands.

 

“He is just tired.” She assured. “He will be okay.”

 

Natalia looked up at her, distrustful but somehow understanding. Verfall guided them back to the door, and Natalia let go of her hand, grasping the door handle. She opened it silently and glanced back at Yelena. Verfall beckoned her to move forward, but Yelena clutched tightly onto her pant leg. 

 

She looked up at her with round saucer eyes, almost innocent.

 

“I hope you feel better too.” She whispered. 

 

Verfall blinked in surprise. 

 

She was more observant than she’d thought. 

 

Yelena reluctantly let go of her hand and grabbed Natalia’s, following her out of the room. The door shut and Verfall stared at the locks as they started turning again. After a few seconds, she heard their footsteps disappear, and she let loose a small breath.

 

The scraping of metal caught her attention and she turned on her feet, reapproaching Winter. She seated herself besides him, leaning her head against his shoulder. She slowly started to trace the metal plates of his arm, following the lines as it criss-crossed across his palm. 

 

Winter blinked slowly as he turned his head to watch her.

 

“Will they get caught?” She whispered. 

 

He frowned, leaning his chin against her head.

 

“No.” His throat rumbled. “Natalia is smart. She is the best. Yelena is too.”

 

Verfall hummed softly.

 

Yelena had improved every day, and could finally spar with Rank 1 of the eight year olds- Elizabeth- without dropping to the mat. It was progress that was favorable for both her and Pier- Sasha- Pierce.

 

“They are.” She agreed.

 

Silence settled again, and Verfall listened carefully to the footsteps passing their hall. She felt almost claustrophobic in the cell, even when it was bigger than her sensory deprivation chamber. 

 

It could only feel that way, when she felt trapped with a lion ready to pounce. Winter wouldn’t hurt her, she would like to think, as long as she didn’t get in his way. It should’ve hurt, but Winter wasn’t- didn’t know any better. He was still James, just without the human aspect.

 

Verfall didn’t know any better either.

 

Or well, she did, but she ignored it for their sake. It was better than constant, unbearable pain.

 

She continued tracing the metal lines on his palm, listening to his slow heartbeat and how calm it seemed to make him. It was okay. She li- weapons do not have likes.

 

An hour passed, before the door to their cell started clicking open. Winter didn’t seem to notice- or care- as he stared ahead of him, head still placed against hers. Verfall looked up at the screech of the door. 

 

Pier- Sash- Sasha shut the door behind him silently as he observed Winter’s catatonic state. His eyes shifted to Verfall, and she dropped her gaze, swallowing unsurely. He approached the pair.

 

“Are you alright?” He asked gently.

 

Winter’s eyes finally snapped to him.

 

Something in him shifted, his hostile gaze softening into something- something- 

 

Sasha lowered himself to the ground, a foot away from them. He stared at both of them before rifling for something in his jacket. Verfall stiffened, watching their handler cautiously as he pulled out a bright multicolored wrapper. 

 

She blinked, tilting her head like a confused puppy 

 

It was red and yellow, crinkling in his hand. She could read Star- something as he carefully ripped the package open. Two bright square pieces of candy appeared, both pink. He unwrapped one of them, taking his eyes off of Winter as he meticulously kept the paper intact. 

 

He held up the square taffy.

 

Winter looked at him, then the candy, then back to him.

 

“Go on.” Sasha beckoned softly, like he was taming a wild animal.

 

Winter reached out with his right hand, grasping the little candy hesitantly. Sasha smiled, and Winter’s eyes moved back to him, his shoulders loosening. 

 

He started to unwrap the other, before holding it towards Verfall. She moved slowly, grasping the piece unsurely, distrustful. 

 

Sasha’s gaze merely softened.

 

“Take a bite.” He suggested.

 

It was an order.

 

Verfall glanced at Winter who sniffed the sugary treat before taking a tiny nibble. 

 

He drew a sharp breath, his eyes squeezing together tightly as he chewed on the candy. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted before.

 

Verfall took a bite of her candy as well, an explosion of flavor unfurling across her taste buds. It was the most delicious thing she’d tasted in decades. She’d had no privilege- no permission to eat anything with flavor because the handler’s were too afraid the food would trigger Winter’s memories.

 

But Sasha was- he was-

 

“It’s good, isn’t it?” 

 

They lifted their heads in a synchronized motion.

 

“It- it- tastes.” Winter sounded awed. “There is taste.”

 

Sasha chuckled with amusement.

 

“Yes. Very good, Winter.” He approved.

 

Winter’s eyes sparkled. 

 

Verfall looked up at him. Her lips twitched upwards. She’d never seen him so- so happy before, even if he didn’t know he was being happy.

 

Sasha cleared his throat and she snapped her gaze back to him.

 

“I have a daughter.” He hummed. “She likes those, but if she eats too much she gets sick. So I only give them to her when she’s finished her homework.”

 

He looked between them.

 

Home-work? What was homework?- doesn’t matter- there was- reward.

 

“If you’re good, there are other snacks I’ll give you.” He smiled softly, eyes full of concern. “So please tell me, are you alright?”

 

Winter looked down at the floor guiltily. He hadn’t heard his question in the first place which meant he was bad.

 

“I am. . .functional.” He said with uncertainty. 

 

Sasha shot him a disbelieving look and Winter winced.

 

Verfall felt his arms shift over her, before his touch was completely gone. He kneeled, clasping his hands behind his back.

 

“‘M sorry.” He mumbled. “I had- a dream. I was- there was- punishment.”

 

He ducked his head lower, panic starting to seize his body.

 

“‘M sorry.” He repeated in a whisper.

 

Sasha’s lips curled upwards in a bright grin. He reached forwards, and grasped Winter by the forearm, then moving his palm to his elbow.

 

Winter hesitantly tilted his head back to look up and Sasha gently patted his arm.

 

“Thank you for telling me, Winter.” He said happily, and Winter’s tense body slowly loosened. 

 

“You want the feeling inside to go away, right?” He questioned.

 

Winter nodded.

 

“Let me help you.” 

 

Verfall tilted her head. Wrong, his voice sounded- wrong. But Sasha was- was nice. And- and Winter was-

 

Sasha slowly stood to his feet, sweeping Winter up by the arm and taking him as he gently guided him towards the room exit.

 

Then it hit her- why it was so wrong.

 

They were going to wipe him. They were going to- but Sasha- they were going to-

 

Verfall lunged forwards, grabbing onto Sasha’s ankle. He turned, tilting his head as he gazed down at her. She flinched, her hand starting to tremble as she gripped onto him tightly.

 

“Please. Please.” She begged and Sasha sighed.

 

He let go of Winter and crouched, gently grasping her chin. 

 

“We’ll be right back, Verfall.” He hummed, his hand gentle as he ran his hand through her hair.

 

Warm.

 

No- it was a warning. It was a threat. She swallowed, ducked her head, then let go.

 

Sasha’s lips curled into a smirk, before he turned and exited the room with Winter close behind.

 

The door shut and Verfall curled in on herself.

 

She wished she could feel better.

Chapter 63: Sixty Two

"The world needs all the good I can do.”

Red Room, ???

August, 1995

YELENA NARROWLY DODGED A knife thrown at her head as she sprung backwards on her hands, landing in a roll. Verfall flicked her wrist, and the blade shot back towards her. She caught it before it could embed itself in her arm, and threw it again, this time at Yelena’s feet. She immediately sidestepped while keeping her eyes forward. She caught Verfall’s fist before it could collide with her face, arms shaking at the sheer amount of force behind her punch. Yelena swung her leg at her feet and Verfall jumped, attempting to draw back her fist.

 

But Yelena grasped onto her with both her hands, nails digging into her skin. Verfall blinked, not expecting that, as she slammed her foot into her torso, letting go at the same time. Verfall stumbled backwards, but caught herself before she could hit the ground. 

 

Yelena’s mouth moved in a huff, but no sound escaped her. Verfall felt pride swell in her chest as the girl lunged forwards. She kicked up in the air, putting her arm around Verfall’s shoulder and swinging her whole body at her legs. 

 

Verfall hit the ground with a small thud, and she sat up as Yelena held a fist to her chin.

 

“Good.” She said and Yelena slowly drew back standing straight.

 

Verfall smiled underneath her mask, ruffling the girl’s hair softly. Yelena looked up at her, trying her best to conceal a beam. 

 

She turned her head to Winter, who was on the training mat across from them, Natalia hooking her legs around his shoulders. They both slammed into the ground, with Natalia putting him in a chokehold. Winter’s eyes narrowed as he slammed his metal elbow back into her. She winced, but refused to let go. 

 

After a few more seconds, he finally tapped her arm.

 

She loosened her grip, standing to her feet. Winter followed afterwards, towering over the shorter girl. His eyes flicked to Verfall.

 

She blinked at him, and he huffed his chin out towards Yelena. Verfall immediately knew what he meant and she hesitated for half a second before gently nudging Yelena towards Winter.

 

“We are switching partners.” She clarified as Yelena looked up at her.

 

She seemed intimidated as Natalia crossed the space between the training mats. She gripped Verfall’s sleeve tightly with one hand, shifting on her feet.

 

Winter eyed her with mild amusement. 

 

Verfall shot him a frown and he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“You are strong enough.” She assured Yelena.

 

She finally let go of her, and carefully approached Winter. She looked back, and Verfall nodded at her. Yelena inhaled deeply as she stepped onto the training mat.

 

Verfall turned her attention to Natalia and examined her for a moment. Baby hairs were matted to her forehead, her brain still in perfect shape. 

 

She hummed in thought, before activating her abilities. 

 

White wisps of energy circled her fingertips and Natalia’s eyes dropped to her with uncertainty. She slowly shifted her gaze upwards and caught Verfall’s stare. 

 

“Your goal is to grab my shoulder.” She ordered.

 

Natalia blinked profusely.

 

“Your arm.” She repeated, as if Verfall had grown a second head.

 

She nodded in confirmation.

 

Natalia tilted her head back and forth, before nodding. 

 

Verfall stepped closer to her, just a foot away. Natalia took advantage of the close distance immediately, and lashed out with her foot. Verfall let the energy go, exploding between them in a silent but deadly arc.

 

Natalia flew backwards, losing her balance and tumbling across the training mat. Verfall’s eyes shifted to Winter, who caught her gaze as he sparred with Yelena. He narrowed his eyes and she nodded.

 

They were going to win.

 

She let her gaze drift to Yelena for a split second, as Natalia kicked her foot upwards. 

 

She used the momentum to throw her legs over Verfall’s back and spin both of them towards the floor. She reached for Verfall’s shoulder, but her hand was stopped by a shield of white, writhing light. They both hit the ground and Verfall ripped her off with a tendril of white energy. 

 

Natalia landed on her back.

 

Verfall did a kip up jump, and Natalia mirrored her movements. They both landed in the same crouch, and Verfall tilted her head with curiosity. It was like she was looking at a mirror- only, the person across from her was red-haired.

 

The pair remained silent as Natalia finally used her fists, throwing a barrage of punches. She tried to reach forwards and grasp her arm, but Verfall jumped back. She push-kicked Natalia in the torso. 

 

She sidestepped and lunged forwards.

 

Verfall forced another ball of buzzing energy straight at her. This time, Natalia saw it, and rolled out of the way before it could land on her. Verfall smiled beneath her mask, the energy disappearing before it could dent the wall. She could see the gears turning in Natalia’s head as her eyes darted between her hands, following the white tendrils sparking across her fingertips.

 

She was trying to figure out her abilities.

 

Verfall didn’t even know what the full extent of her abilities was.

 

But, she gave her the benefit of the doubt.

 

Natalia sprinted forwards. Fast. And it didn’t look like she was planning on stopping. Verfall threw another sphere of energy and Natalia dropped to the ground, only to shove herself up with her arms. 

 

Verfall blinked in surprise.

 

Natalia’s head slammed into Verfall’s hands and she drew in a sharp breath as she grabbed her wrist, turning over on all fours and dragging Verfall along with her.

 

She drew back as Natalia took a desperate grab at her shoulder. Verfall spun both of them around.

 

Natalia froze.

 

White wisps trailed her neck, completely covering the area with a threatening cold. It was nothing harmful, just cold air. 

 

Verfall smirked, though no one could see it.

 

Natalia’s fingertips were barely brushing against her shoulder, completely enveloped in energy. But she was pressing, her hand straining and the veins in her arm twitching. 

 

Verfall could faintly feel it.

 

“Воительница.”

 

Warrior.

 

She said, her voice soft and clear.

 

Natalia’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch as the energy dissipated completely. Verfall stood, and held her hand out.

 

“A tie.” Natalia said, dumbfounded.

 

Verfall nodded.

 

“A tie.” She confirmed.

 

Verfall turned her head back to Winter and Yelena, unsurprised by the fact the pair were still sparring. 

 

Winter could easily kill her, but that wasn’t the goal. He was trying to make her better, and Yelena, well, her movements were impressive. She was good. Extremely good. 

 

Finally, Winter barked an order.

 

“Stop.” 

 

Yelena lowered her fists, sweat trickling down her forehead and a wild animal-like determination set in her eyes. But she stopped. She let herself calm down, and Winter’s eyes flickered with pride.

 

Verfall rolled her eyes. She had built up Yelena’s skills. Technically, she deserved all the credit.

 

Winter turned to Verfall.

 

He stared for a second, brows furrowing all of a sudden.

 

“Winter?” Verfall questioned as concern crawled up her spine.

 

“She is good, Lucy.” Winter said confidently. “Natashenka is too, isn’t she?”

 

Every muscle in her body tensed. Her limbs locked in place and her jaw clenched, her fingers absentmindedly brushing the gold bracelets circling her wrists. She forced a nod, ignoring Natalia and Yelena’s confused looks.

 

“Yes. Her combat level is impressive.” She agreed calmly.

 

Winter’s chest seemed to swell with pride.

 

Verfall grabbed Natalia’s hand as she brought her closer towards Winter’s training mat.

 

“Win, did you call me Ver?” She asked.

 

Natalia and Yelena shot her a look, as if she was crazy.

 

Winter blinked furiously.

 

“Yes.” He nodded, then frowned, confused. “No.”

 

“Okay.” Verfall said in acknowledgment, her heart drumming in her chest.

 

She took hold of Yelena’s hand and pulled both of them towards the exit. Winter watched her movements, but made no move to attack. He just seemed lost. Lost, but slowly growing more and more uncertain- aggressive.

 

“I broke your arm.” Verfall said carefully to Natalia.

 

The red-haired girl furrowed her eyebrows.

 

Verfall grabbed hold of her shoulders, keeping eye contact as she shook her with desperation.

 

“I broke your arm and then I healed it, and then Winter panicked. Do you understand?” She swallowed thickly, eyes pleading.

 

Someone had triggered him, and she had an aching feeling it had been Yelena. It was an accident of course, but triggers were often random. 

 

Natalia’s eyes flicked to Winter, just for a second, before nodding. She opened the door to the training room, and pushed both girls out of the room. 

 

A few guards walked past, coming to a stop as their eyes narrowed with genuine confusion and caution. There was three of them, all placing their hands on their guns.

 

Verfall stared at them expressionlessly.

 

“Go to Madame B.” She said, keeping eye contacts with the guards but addressing the younger girls.

 

Natalia hesitated.

 

“That’s an order!” She snapped.

 

The guards looked taken aback by her tone, but they were quickly distracted by Yelena and Natalia sprinting down the hall.

 

Verfall ignored the guards then, shutting the door as she turned back around to face Winter.

 

It didn’t make sense.

 

He’d been wiped a few days ago, hadn’t he? Not even- Pierce had given them the- the candy a day ago. Maybe. Two days. He had took his memories again- he had-

 

He hadn’t?

 

Verfall had been asleep when Winter had returned, purely out of exhaustion. And when she awoke she had just assumed- assumed-

 

Was Pierce- was he actually lenient? Was it real? Was- she didn’t understand. 

 

She didn’t understand.

 

Winter was suddenly in front of her- which wasn’t alarming since she was used to his seeming teleportations. He was observing her. 

 

Staring.

 

Confused.

 

“Yasha.” He blurted. “She calls me. Yasha. Natashenka does.”

 

Verfa- Lu- Verfall blinked.

 

What?

 

“Yelena calls you- you have a name. Lucy. Your name. You have one. I do too. We do. We have names. My name- Yasha- it means James. James. My name is- James? No- no-“ he shook his head firmly, gripping her shoulders tightly, “-you are important. You’re Lucy. Lucy. Lucy. Sweetheart.”

 

Winter’s eyes were so clear- so bright.

 

He couldn’t remember. Remembering only meant pain, and electrocution, and blood, and disappointment, and more pain-

 

“Sweetheart.” He repeated with fervor, with desperation.

 

Verfall crumbled.

 

“Yes.” Lucy whispered. “Yes, love. That’s me. That’s-“

 

She inhaled sharply.

 

“That’s me.”

 

Winter inhaled sharply.

 

“We need to-“

 

Please don’t- we don’t need to report to our handler-

 

“We need to take the girls and run.” He exclaimed.

 

As he spoke, the door to the training room slammed open.

 

Guards filed inside, at least twenty of them, followed by a familiar foreboding figure: Pierce.

 

The grip Winter hand on her faltered and he swallowed thickly, his eyes growing wild. 

 

Dangerous. 

 

Aggressive.

 

He pulled Lucy backwards, towards the back of the room. Towards the wall, away from the men trying to circle them. All of their guns were drawn, poised at non-vital body parts.

 

Pierce broke the circle, stepping a few feet in front of them.

 

Winter- Winter’s shoulders dropped.

 

He hesitated.

 

“Sash- Stev- Pier- Handl- Zola- no- no- no-“

 

And like a dead weight, Winter dropped to the ground, gripping his head and pulling back on strands of hair tightly. Lucy lowered herself in front of him, a barrier of wispy energy circling the pair protectively. She grabbed his hands, pulling them away from his hair as she brought him close to her chest.

 

She stared at all the guards with hostility.

 

One of them pulled the trigger to their gun, but the bullet merely dissolved on impact of the shield.

 

Pierce was staring at her, calculating, careful.

 

“Everybody out.” He finally said, his voice calm and collected.

 

The guards didn’t move.

 

“All of you.” Pierce urged.

 

They didn’t need to be told a third time, turning around almost in an uncaring manner- as if they thought Pierce was crazy and wanted a death sentence.

 

Lucy watched all of them leave.

 

She heard the door close. She heard the deafening silence settle. She heard Pierce’s footsteps drawing close.

 

She looked up.

 

“Enough.” She spat. “You hurt him enough.”

 

Pierce stopped, tilting his head with curiosity.

 

“I don’t fight. I don’t try to leave. I stay. I do what you order me to. I make myself inhuman. I make myself nothing. I am nothing. He is nothing. Why must you keep hurting him? Keep wiping him?! Keep burning his skull?! He does anything you want! He has no concept of desire, doesn’t even know he was something before!” She was shouting now. “None of you are patient with him! You order him and you don’t care that he must be taught! That we must be taught! We cannot blindly follow things when we don’t understand! We aren’t supposed to be human! But guess what?! We fucking are! We’ve got brains and judgements and- and- memories! It’s not our fault they forget maintenance through pills!”

 

She seethed, chest rising and falling as she heaved. Her hands were trembling against Winter’s figure- still incoherent, shaking, mumbling to himself.

 

That’s why Winter ended up like this- because they would forget to give him the dosage of medicine he needed. Of drugs.

 

Lucy admitted the fact she was scared. Absolutely terrified.

 

Pierce could electrocute her right where she sat. He could if he wanted. For however long he wanted. 

 

So, when he lowered himself to the ground, right in front of the deadly writhing smoke, she blinked, dumbfounded.

 

“You’re right.” He finally said, calm and understanding. “No HYDRA agent or handler has been patient with Winter. They immediately use the Chair and it isn’t fair.”

 

Lucy stared at him in genuine shock. He was- he was making sense and actually listening to her.

 

“Y-Yes.” She stammered, disbelieving.

 

“I can be patient.” Pierce moved forwards gently. “Winter doesn’t need to be wiped. He only needs someone to make him less confused. I can be that person for him. There’s no need for violence if he listens to reason, don’t you think so, Lucy?”

 

He placed his hand on the barrier and it went right through it. He was perfectly intact. Nothing was- it wasn’t hurting him. Lucy didn’t have enough time to linger on that. He had called her by name.

 

Pierce smiled softly, holding his hand out towards her as if he wanted her to shake it.

 

“We haven’t met formally, you and I, Ms. Baker.” He said smoothly. “Although you and Verfall are the same person, I feel obliged to be polite to the more human side of you when you, for the lack of a better word, choose to show it.”

 

Lucy swallowed a lump in her throat.

 

“My mother used to be a fan of your accomplishments in the SSR.” 

 

His actions were so foreign, so odd, so weird.

 

Winter was staring ahead, vacant. He was leaning his chin on her shoulder, putting most of his weight on her.

 

“Well,” Pierce let his hand drop at the absence of movement, “I do not plan to be excessively violent with Winter. Or with you. I’m a firm believer of speaking through these problems- malfunctions- step by step. Together. What do you think, Lucy? No blood, no pain, no electricity.”

 

Lucy dipped her head in a tiny nod as the energy field slowly dissipated.

 

“That sounds nice.” She admitted, pausing. “If we met on a different basis and you weren’t HYDRA, I would say it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Pierce. Unfortunately, we haven’t.”

 

She looked down at the floor.

 

She took a deep breath, forcing her emotions into the bottom of her stomach. She lifted her head.

 

“You’ll. Help.” Verfall whispered.

 

Sasha stared at her for a moment.

 

He reached forwards, and Verfall flinched at the movement of his hand. But he merely petted her head.

 

“I will.” He assured, as he moved his hand to Winter’s shoulder.

 

He shuddered, wide eyes turning to gaze at Sasha. Verfall watched him warily as he slowly pulled Winter away from her grasp. Winter seemed to relax in his arms, leaning his head against Sasha’s shoulder. 

 

“You’re confused now, aren’t you?” He said softly. “Tell me, Winter. What’s wrong?”

 

Winter’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

 

“I dunno. Jus’ confused.” He admitted.

 

Verfall flinched, expecting Sasha to do something. Instead he hummed in acknowledgment.

 

“I know. But I need you to try and tell me why you’re confused, otherwise I can’t help you, okay?” His voice was still soft.

 

“I have a-a name?” He questioned.

 

Pierce breathed deeply, nodding in thought.

 

“Your name is Winter, of course.” He spoke as if it was obvious. “Like Verfall is named Verfall.”

 

Winter chewed on the inside of his lip.

 

“The girls. This place is. . .is wrong. The girls are only kids. They should be in school.” He mumbled.

 

Verfall’s heart dropped.

 

They were going to wipe him now. They were going to use the Chair again. 

 

“This is a school, Winter.” Sasha insisted. “This place is a special school. They’re learning to be strong. You want them to be strong, don’t you?”

 

Winter nodded almost eagerly.

 

“I have a daughter who goes to school.” Sasha said softly. “She goes to an elementary school. These children are in an assassin school. They learn to become the best assassins.”

 

“Daugh. . .ter.” Winter tilted his head, pulling back and looking at him. “You but. . .smaller?”

 

Sasha nodded with a content smile.

 

“Yes. Do you understand now, Winter?” He asked.

 

Winter leaned his head against his shoulder.

 

“I do.” He flinched suddenly, pulling back sharply. “I’m sorry. You had to tell me again. I’m sorry.”

 

It suddenly clicked, then,

 

Sasha hadn’t taken him out of the cell to bring him to the chair- he had taken him out of the room to talk to him in a more comfortable environment. He hadn’t hurt him physically- 

 

He’d manipulated him.

 

Like he was doing now.

 

“It’s okay.” He paused. “Chin up, Winter. You are a role model. You have a job to do. You’re our best weapon, remember?”

 

Verfall’s heart hammered loudly in her ears.

 

Which one was worse?

 

Winter lifted his head.

 

“And you have something to take care of.”

 

Winter turned to Verfall. He looked so apologetic, so upset, that Verfall couldn’t help but wrap her arms around him.

 

“‘M sorry.” He whispered.

 

Verfall stared up at Sasha.

 

He smiled.

 

Which one was worse?

Chapter 64: Sixty Three

"To fail is to get up and try again.”

Red Room, ???

August, 1995

THERE TEST WOULD COME IN the form of a live target. Each student needed one, even though the Black Widow’s had already been chosen- to an extent. It was possible another student could surpass the privately tutored ones- but it was extremely unlikely. There was a room full of men and women and children, tied individually, by their hands and feet. She had been able to hear them before. In the halls. They’d been screaming and crying, hysterical as soon as they were thrown in together. 

 

Verfall and Winter had been sent in once the prisoners had grown eerily silent. Madame B assumed they were planning an escape.

 

Now they stood in the center of the room, holding no weapons, with one transmitter that crackled. Verfall remained crouched on the tiled floor, while Winter stood with his arms crossed, metal shifting and clicking. 

 

The women were in tears, but had quieted into nothing but small sniffles. The children were terrified..The men were watching their movements carefully. Some of them rolled their eyes and scoffed. They had no idea who they were, no idea how dangerous they were. They didn’t know seeing Winter’s metal arm was an automatic death sentence. If the Black Widows in training failed to kill them, Winter and Verfall would have to. 

 

Verfall tilted her head back as one of the men shifted on the floor. She clicked her tongue twice, her eyes on the man, who glared in response. Winter didn’t turn to look at her, instead producing two short clicks. Her eyes shifted to the side of the room, and the man who’d been shifting immediately jumped up, followed by four more of them. 

 

“Yours.” Winter grunted, hearing the rustling of clothes.

 

Verfall scowled underneath her mask.

 

They collapsed before the white wisps of energy even touched them, ankles buckling and snapping with disturbing cracks. They let out screams as their knees hit the ground and Winter jerked his head to the side. The wisps whipped forwards at an inhuman pace, their eyes rolling into the back of their heads.

 

Silence settled and the prisoners froze, terrified. Cries started to erupt again, and Winter pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“Winter.” She said.

 

“Verfall.” He replied coldly.

 

She released a long breath.

 

The prisoners didn’t move again. 

 

The ones unconscious awoke soon after, just as the door to their holding room opened. 

 

They immediately started shouting at the guards who entered, chaos unfurling between them. One of the guards shot at the floor around them maliciously and they let loose terrified screams.

 

Verfall exhaled slowly.

 

Winter didn’t look pleased as well.

 

They both recognized the agent's voice. It was one of the sadistic ones. They’d only brushed into him with Sasha, and Sasha had been their shield- had protected. 

 

But their handler wasn’t here.

 

He had a name- Maximus? He held his rifle vertically, barrel pointed at the ceiling.

 

“Easy, girls, easy.” He grinned. “Don’t piss me off.”

 

His eyes trailed to Verfall and she resisted the urge to shudder under the gleam in his gaze.

 

“Alright, I’m going to give you a number.” He addressed the terrified prisoners. “Remember that number like your life depends on it. Because, well, it does.”

 

He laughed and some of the agents struggled to stifle their amused sounds as well. 

 

Verfall and Winter merely blinked.

 

He started counting them off, one through four, walking around and kicking the men in the back of their ankles, dropping lewd comments about the women, and sneering at the children who whimpered in response.

 

Verfall knew the agent was drunk on power- the little power he had.

 

In reality, Winter was the one who held most authority in the room. And he was waiting patiently for an excuse to kill the unfavorable agent.

 

“Get in line!” He shouted, and the other guards started shoving them onto their feet.

 

Verfall stood, straightening as they surveyed the group of prisoners shuffling around. 

 

The ones with broken ankles were dragged by guards and shoved around like sacks of potatoes.

 

The first ten prisoners were escorted outside by five guards, excluding Agent Maximus, and the other prisoners were forced to sit against the walls with their groups. But there were only three guards now.

 

Just the agent, Verfall and Winter.

 

Verfall swallowed when he boredly turned to her. She didn’t step back, didn’t move, as Winter eyed the agent’s movements.

 

Do something.

 

He was blank, expressionless, but Verfall could see the twitch of his fingertips. One- two taps against his middle finger. Verfall shifted her gaze to the left of the agent, watching him in her peripheral vision as he drew closer. 

 

His lips curled into a smirk. Verfall clenched her jaw. She’d seen those looks before, but no American had ever contained the guts to act on it. 

 

Winter’s foot shifted half a centimeter, slow and silent.

 

Do something.

 

Agent Maximus either didn’t notice or care as he tucked his hand beneath her chin, calloused. His grip was almost painful as he started to unclasp the back of her mask.

 

Verfall’s eyes brightened with a flare of emotion, her lips splitting into a grin beneath the tactical fabric covering her face.

 

The agent stopped, confused at the pure glee in her eyes.

 

Finally.

 

There was a sickening crack.

 

Verfall let his limp hand slip from her head and she reached upwards, tightening the clasps on her mask. She would be lying if she didn’t admit she’d grown attached to it. The mask was always there.

 

Winter loomed over the agent’s body.

 

The men and women watched with absolute terror, children sniffling and crying silent tears.

 

“Did you just k-kill your own comrade?” One of the braver prisoners asked.

 

Verfall snapped her head to the side, staring at the man. Comrade? Oh, right. They thought they were a part of this willingly.

 

Which they weren’t. 

 

Were. 

 

Weren’t. 

 

Were. 

 

Weren’t?

 

Was there even a difference anymore?

 

Winter didn’t pay him any attention, instead grabbing the body and hauling it over his shoulder. He opened the door to the room and shoved the body toward the wall across from them. He shut the door silently as he returned to Verfall’s side. 

 

A few minutes passed before the doorknob turned and Sasha entered the room, followed by two guards staring at the pair warily. Sasha’s eyes flicked over the still living targets, and his shoulders loosened slightly. He’d seen the body. The guards had dragged the man’s corpse to the morgue. 

 

Verfall supposed he had a reason to be tense, though he seemed more concerned by the possible loss of test material than the rampage of Winter.

 

Which was odd, but Verfall was getting used to Sasha’s calm, relaxed demeanor.

 

“Reason for death, Winter.” Sasha ordered. 

 

Winter straightened, hands clasping behind his back.

 

“Attempt in removal of Verfall’s mask, and possible activities not vital towards the mission.” His voice was monotone. “Casualty cause: she is mine. Not his.”

 

Sasha’s eyes darted to Verfall who stared a little bit to the left of his head, unblinking. There was a tense moment of silence that Verfall knew Sasha enjoyed. His lips tilted upwards in a smile afterwards.

 

“Acceptable casualty.” Sasha confirmed and Winter’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

 

“Follow.” He said firmly. “You are to kill the students who are disposable.”

 

Verfall and Winter padded out of the room with no protest. Why should they protest anyway? They were doing what they were told- which meant they were doing good- which meant they were good.

 

Verfall bumped her shoulder into Winter’s and he stared at her. He nodded at her small movement of appreciation. They stepped down the hall, following Sasha as he paused in front of the wide glass window of the ballet room. The guard in front of him pushed the door open as the three of them sauntered inside.

 

There were ten girls in the room, the six year olds. The stances in the girls shifted, the air tense. Against one wall were the prior prisoners, now with sacks covering their heads. There were two children amongst them.

 

Sasha turned on his heel and left as they entered.

 

There was Madame B, and another man- she could hear them speaking. The man- Dreykov- eyed the two weapons, before shifting on his foot and watching the girls, who were standing with ramrod backs and perfect postures.

 

Their hair was all knotted in perfect braids.

 

“Soldat, grab one, and follow.” Madame B ordered sternly, addressing Winter.

 

He grabbed the person nearest to him, a few feet away. It was a woman, who couldn’t be older than twenty. Verfall watched as the woman cried out, struggling against Winter’s bone-breaking grip. He pushed her against Verfall and she grabbed her other arm just as tightly.

 

“Rank 10, Naria. Step forward, and follow.” She said.

 

The small girl stalked forwards and followed Madame B as they were escorted into another room, connected to the wide ballet area. It served as a place to murder, soiling cement rather than training mats. A metal table was at the side of the room, filled with an array of pistols and glocks.

 

There was a dark burgundy stain on the back wall.

 

The woman was pushed to her knees at the center of the room, where so many others must’ve been killed.

 

Winter pressed his metal palm against the woman’s shoulder, forcing her to remain on her knees before letting go. The woman tried to move from her spot, but she was glued to the floor, molecules buzzing around her muscles and obstructing her movements.

 

Verfall’s hands were entangled with white energy.

 

Madame B watched as Naria gazed at the crying woman with uncertainty.

 

“Grab the gun which is most useful to you. Then dispose of this woman.” She waved her hand at the target who let out a shaky sob.

 

Naria moved swiftly, grabbing one of the guns and stepping towards the woman. She stood three feet away from her, weapon raised to her target’s head. 

 

“Please! Please, I’ll do anything! Please don’t! I have a Mama and Papa and they haven’t said goodbye-“ 

 

Naria’s hand shook.

 

Her finger trembled on the trigger as the woman continued to profusely beg. Naria had to listen to the order but she couldn’t, because she’d never killed someone innocent before- someone who didn’t have a chance to fight for their life. She swallowed unsurely, nervous.

 

Seconds turned into minutes.

 

“Can you kill her?” Madame B finally inquired.

 

Naria’s trembling hand lowered.

 

It was enough of an answer. 

 

Winter jerked his head at Verfall, and she stepped forwards, taking the gun from the little girl’s hands and turning to the woman.

 

She levelled her arm, and pulled the trigger.

 

The woman’s head snapped backwards. Blood and brain matter splattered onto the back wall. The bullet tinkered to the floor, as the target slumped to the ground, her cries silent. Naria turned to Madame B, and the older woman gazed down at her with a disappointed frown.

 

“You are useless.” She said, and tapped her cane against the floor once.

 

Winter moved too fast for the student to retaliate, his metal hand gripping her neck so tight it cracked upon impact. Verfall pushed one of her hands upwards, and fog clouded the girls head as her nerves were severed from her brain.

 

Winter’s eyes were glazed when he looked back at her. Unbeknownst to Verfall, she had the same gaze. They were both there, but not, all at the same time. They were away, so numb they couldn’t really be there. The door to the room opened and it’s limp body was dragged out of the room by two guards, followed by the dead target. 

 

Madame B stepped out of the room as Verfall and Winter awaited further orders.

 

The next five ranking- Rank 5-10- left the room without walking, dragged across the floor and thrown into the pile of other dead girls. 

 

Rank 6 threw up, but managed to pull the trigger. Still, it wasn’t enough to pass the test, and Winter disposed of her. 

 

They took turns, not that it mattered. There was an air of fairness if they did, and Verfall wondered, maybe, if Winter had a sense of wrong or right, even after Sasha fervently persuaded him otherwise.

 

It was probably unlikely, after all, Sasha’s words were very potent, so potent, in fact, that Verfall doubted if she’d ever been Lucy at all. 

 

Maybe it had been a dream.

 

She shook herself out of the thought as Yelena entered the room.

 

Her eyes were set with nothing, a blank look, an impeccably mask. She grabbed a sleek black gun, one that hadn’t been chosen yet. She stood in front of their target, a man, who had resorted to begging like all the other prisoners had. They always begged- it’s what made the other girls fail. But Verfall had taught Yelena herself. And she knew begging did not help anyone- not herself, not her target. 

 

Yelena raised her arm.

 

And hesitated as the man let out a cry.

 

“I have a daughter!” He shouted. “I have-“

 

An ear-splitting bang cut him off, and his head dropped. He slumped to the side and Winter nudged Verfall with his foot. He quirked an eyebrow and Verfall let a small bit of pride shine through her eyes.

 

Wait- prideful? Of what? For letting a young girl kill-

 

Her lips tilted upwards in a tiny smile behind her mask as Yelena turned to face Madame B, holding the gun towards her with the handle pointed at the older lady. Madame B nodded with approval, and took the gun from her.

 

Verfall took the weapon from her and placed it back onto the table silently.

 

Winter hauled the body over his shoulder, and Verfall stopped the blood from dripping to the ground as Madame B escorted the three of them out of the room.

 

Yelena was the only six year old girl left standing.

 

The line of others were now replaced by the eight year olds girls and a fresh amount of prisoners for the next tests to take place. 

 

So the pair surveyed the next three groups of girls- Rank 1 of the eight year olds, Elizabeth, surprisingly failed, and was terminated. Rank 2, 3 and 4 of the eight year olds, moved on to the next test.

 

Rank 1 of the ten year olds, Svetlana, passed, tied with Rank 2, Rank 3, and Rank 5. 

 

When the twelve year olds girls marched into the room and took their places, Winter’s shoulders were stiff with anticipation. His eyes were cold as they roamed each student, softening only slightly at Natalia’s presence.

 

They re-entered the room they’d been in for the last hour, dragging along another prisoner, who was pushed to their knees again. 

 

Rank 10-6 left via dragging, much like the majority of the other girls.

 

When Natalia stepped inside, the room dynamic changed almost immediately. She had an air of cold confidence, the air of a murderer, a killer. The two weapons and the to-be assassin were on the same basis of respect. If they were to attack each other, all at the same time, no one would lose or win. They would all drop from exhaustion. 

 

Madame B seemed to realize she could very possibly be in danger, but she kept her composure as the fiery headed girl grabbed her choice of weapon and turned to her target.

 

There was maybe a moment of hesitance as the confused and scared child, blind, whimpered and begged for it’s mother.

 

Natalia schooled her features, and pulled the trigger.

 

It’s wails were silenced and Winter looked slightly relieved by the absence of sound. Natalia indifferently handed the gun back. Verfall caught her eyes. Something was flickering beneath them.

 

Disgust.

Chapter 65: Sixty Four

"Drapetomania: an overwhelming urge to run away.”

Red Room, ???

September, 1995

IT WAS THE LAST TEST that killed her. Not physically, of course. Verfall had been standing next to Winter when it happened. They’d been analyzing Natalia, watching her every move as she fought three agents at once. The other girls had been lined up against the wall, sitting on their knees and waiting. Madame B had been leaning against her cane, just as always. It happened when Natalia tapped her opponent's arm in surrender.

 

Madame B scowled.

 

“Sloppy.” She chided. “Pretending to fail.”

 

Her lips tilted upwards into a reassuring, almost sad smile.

 

“The ceremony is necessary, for you to take your place in the world.” She said.

 

Verfall had never been told, explicitly, what the graduation ceremony was. She was a weapon- she didn’t need to know anything. All she knew was the Red Room produced Black Widows, who were assassins. 

 

But still, she’d noticed the distraught look in Natalia’s eyes as the hours of tests continued. She would’ve thought Natalia would be indifferent. The lack of surprise flickering between Winter’s eyes told her he knew exactly just how Natalia felt.

 

She breathed heavily, her eyes almost pained as she turned to look at the older woman.

 

“I have no place in the world.” She replied.

 

Her eyes shifted back to Yelena, focused.

 

Verfall looked between them. Something wasn’t right. Something was- there was something- Winter pressed his leg into hers.

 

She stiffened.

 

“Exactly.” Madame B nodded.

 

Natalia inhaled deeply, as if she was preparing for something.

 

In a blink of an eye, she spun on her feet, kicking out Madame B’s cane and landing on top of an agent’s neck. Chaos ensued as the other girls watched with wide eyes, unmoving. Yelena jumped forwards and caught Natalia’s hand as they sprinted towards the exit. 

 

The guards stationed in the corner raised their weapons, just as Winter engaged them, punching one of their necks with his metal arm and shooting the other. 

 

Verfall’s eyes flicked back and forth, before catching Winter’s gaze, blood dripping into the crevices of his metal arm. His eyes were brighter than they’d ever been, recognition flitting between them. His eyebrows raised almost sassily and Verfall was dumbfounded for half a second. He jerked his chin towards the two girls, a silent order.

 

Verfall sprinted forwards.

 

“Stop them!” She heard Madame B shout.

 

Natalia and Yelena sprinted down the hall, Verfall at their ankles. The two girls looked back at her for a split second and Verfall grabbed both of their hands, darting down the hall. 

 

She felt Natalia let out a small breath of relief as they continued forwards. 

 

They turned down the hall and skidded to a stop as a group of agents stalked forwards.

 

The three were immediately enveloped in a luminescent circle of wispy energy. The men started shootings but their bullets merely dissolved. Verfall let go of Natalia’s hand, waving her fingers. A string of energy raced across the group and travelled through their foreheads. There was no blood, no proof of anything, as they dropped to the floor, weapons clattering to the ground.

 

Natalia grabbed one of their rifles and jumped over the bodies, 

helping Yelena as she went. Verfall cursed under her breath and caught up with them before they could take the next turn. 

 

There was another wall of agents and Natalia engaged immediately, spinning and kicking one of the agents hard in the face. The man’s neck snapped to the side, blood dripping down his mouth as he stumbled backwards. The agent behind him caught him.

 

Liquid rose to Verfall’s hands, solidifying into two metal pistols. She pulled the trigger, shooting multiple agents in the head as they fired. The bullets dissolved around her.

 

Yelena lunged onto an agent and tipped him backwards. They both fell as she twisted around him, jabbing a dagger into his neck, stolen from one of the agents.

 

She looked to Natalia who gave her a nod. 

 

Verfall heard the sound of whirring metal behind her and straightened as Winter moved besides her.

 

“Hey.” Winter nudged her in the elbow. “Been a long time, huh, Lu?”

 

Verfall blinked furiously.

 

What?

 

“James?” She gawked.

 

Wint- James shrugged with uncertainty.

 

“Think so. Somethin’ like that.” He admitted unsurely.

 

She narrowed her eyes, observing his facial expressions. He looked completely normal- nothing was off about him except for the fact he remembered. She brushed off the emotions hurtling up her spine as the four of them turned down the hall that would lead to the only exit they knew of.

 

There was another group of agents waiting for them. Natalia and Yelena moved forwards to dispose of them just as she had the others.

 

They were so close, the two girls that is.

 

Verfall wouldn’t make it ten feet out of the building without someone reporting it to Sasha- they should, she was being insubordinate and Sasha was good- and getting electrocuted.

 

The thought seemed to summon the very man, the clicks of his shoes so light and soft and gentle- different from the heavy, dangerously, slow footsteps of Dr. Schaffer, who was like a predator stalking prey that was too exhausted to run anymore.

 

Guilt swelled in her chest, fast, like a dam had broken and a whole ass waterfall was crashing right on top of her. 

 

Sasha held a familiar device in his hand, his thumb hovering above the button at the center.

 

Verfall’s abilities died down immediately.

 

James turned around and something in him faltered- only half a second, before he drew his gun and held it right at Sasha’s forehead.

 

Sasha paused, his foot falling silent.

 

Natalia and Yelena were back to back, pointing rifles at the agents who pointed their own guns at them. Nobody pulled the trigger. They were at an odd stalemate, with a few agents glancing at Sasha for orders.

 

James’s hand started to tremble and his eyes widened with disbelief. He couldn’t physically pull the goddamn trigger. Pull the goddamn-

 

“Winter-“ Sasha started in that calm, soft voice.

 

James snarled.

 

“My name is James.” He snapped.

 

He switched the gun to his other hand and Sasha watched, silent as the tension in the air rose. James failed to pull the trigger again, and Verfall slowly stepped forwards.

 

She placed her hand on top of the barrel.

 

“You won’t be able to.” She said quietly. “It’s conditioning.”

 

James’s eyes flicked upwards to her, a look of fear and sheer rage travelling between them. They were a roaring fire, ready to rampage at any second.

 

“I would know.” She admitted.

 

And with that sentence, he seemed to explode.

 

“Fuck!” He screamed, throwing the gun so hard, it went straight through the wall. “Fuck!”

 

He whirled around, engaging in combat with the agent closest to him. The man hardly had a chance as James cracked the man’s nose. He hollered in pain and James spun around to elbow the agent besides him in the torso.

 

James- no, no it was Winter fighting, killing, completely animalistic and- 

 

And yet he was filled to the brim of James’s despair and heartache and anger. He growled fiercely at the agents who fired at him, using his metal arm as a shield. He used his dagger to slash through them like butter, and Verfall stumbled back at the sheer ferocity of his attacks.

 

Blood splattered everywhere- the walls, the floor, the goddamn ceiling.

 

Natalia and Yelena watched with a detached gaze.

 

There was suddenly a hand on her shoulder and Verfall inhaled sharply as Sasha kicked the back of her knees, hard. She buckled, falling forwards as he placed a still gentle hand on the back of her neck.

 

There was a click, right besides her ear.

 

She felt like hot fiery knives were stabbing into her neck, her torso, her arms. It spread like a wildfire, a shockwave that burned her nerves and withered her pain receptors. Someone was screaming, and she realized, detachedly, the whines and wails were coming from her. She slumped forwards, chest heaving as she tried to breath. Another burst of electricity darted across her body, setting deep in her muscles- her bones. She couldn’t help it as she cried out again. 

 

“Stop. . .again. . .do you understand?” Sasha’s voice was muddled and fuzzy.

 

Verfall felt like she was wading through mud, seeing without really seeing.

 

Yelena had taken a step towards her, and Natalia had lowered her weapon.

 

“Take him to the Maintenance Room.” Sasha ordered sharply. “And the girls.”

 

The group of surviving agents grabbed hold of James, Natalia and Yelena, who spat in their faces and kicked out with their feet. Sasha clicked his tongue at James, as if reprimanding a child, and Verfall froze. His finger had slipped under the gold around her neck, and he was preparing to tug it. That would- she would be in excruciating pain, she’d black out, and lose the ability to move her limbs.

 

Her eyes grew pleading as James’s gaze flicked towards her.

 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

 

His eyes softened.

 

The insatiable anger was still raging across his mind, but he let his body relax, slumping into the agents who carried him. He looked far from surrender- his stubborn ass wouldn’t let him do that willingly. 

 

Ever.

 

But he realized he couldn’t do anything without hurting Lucy.

 

Sasha removed his hand from her neck, and shuffled in front of her. She lowered her head, tucking her chin to her chest because she felt so- so guilty. 

 

“I was patient with both of you, wasn’t I?” His voice was low. “I didn’t hurt Winter or you, for that matter, and this is how you act? This is how you repay me? Are you serious?”

 

The anger was seeping through now, and Verfall flinched. She clasped her hands behind her back, bowing forwards. Sasha scrutinized her, brows furrowed with disappointment.

 

“‘M sorry. I-“ didn’t know “-I’m sorry. Sorry. Please. Please don’t-“

 

Realization suddenly hit her and she desperately moved to latch onto him. Her fingers stopped short, not daring to touch him.

 

“Don’t leave! Don’t. You’re th-the best handler. Please. Please don’t.” She begged and Sasha huffed.

 

“You have no right to ask me that, not when you’ve gone and done this.” He scowled. “Just look at this mess!”

 

Verfall lifted her head at the order, swallowing anxiously at the blood and corpses littering the hall. Some limbs weren’t attached to their persons.

 

“I’ll clean it.” She whispered.

 

Sasha narrowed his eyes.

 

“You’ve lost your privileges.” He gripped the circular device in his hand. 

 

Verfall’s eyes widened for a second, before she ducked her head and nodded. She deserved it- after everything she did to him when he’d been so merciful.

 

He exhaled slowly.

 

“Stand up.” He ordered sharply.

 

Verfall moved swiftly to her feet as Sasha gripped her by the elbow. She let herself be led, feeling even worse at how careful he was being. His grip should’ve been painfully tight- it should’ve left ringlets of nail marks. 

 

But he was so gentle.

 

Verfall stumbled after him as they turned down a dull hallway. She could hear someone shouting- a small voice, loud. 

 

“His name is James Buchanan Barnes, you козёл! He is Captain America’s sidekick!” Natalia shouted as they entered the room.

 

Verfall froze at the doorway.

 

Natalia and Yelena were being held by four agents, who gripped tightly to their shoulders and kept their arms at their sides.

 

There were two technicians in the room, pressed against the wall farthest from the Chair. They didn’t seem to be the slightest bit embarrassed. 

 

She supposed that was reasonable.

 

At the center of the room was the Chair and James.

 

With much struggle and a metallic short-circuiting disk, the other agents were able to force James onto the Chair, thick metal cuffs clasping over his arms. His metal arm lay limp at his side as he kicked one of the agents in their knees. The agent raised his baton, electricity sparking across it.

 

“That’s enough.” Sasha’s voice had a sharp edge to it, filled with authority.

 

James bared his teeth at him, and Sasha narrowed his eyes at the blatant disrespect.

 

The agents cuffing him down slowly backed away, moving into position at the entrance.

 

“There are only so many times I can help you, Winter.” Sasha said with a shake of his head.

 

Natalia struggled to reach the pair.

 

“His name is Bucky Barnes! He knows Captain America!” She insisted. “Yasha, your name is Bucky!”

 

Sasha’s eyes remained on James as he spoke.

 

“And where did you hear that from, Ms. Romanov?” He questioned.

 

Natalia sneered.

 

“His file.” She snapped.

 

Sasha’s lips formed into an ‘o’. He leaned back, gazing disappointedly at the girl. He tilted his head at James who’s eyes flicked back and forth with a new sense of urgency- with anxiety.

 

Sasha let out a long breath, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“Verfall,” he shifted his gaze to her, “on your knees, please.”

 

Was he- was he being polite?

 

She swallowed unsurely, but dropped to her knees anyway.

 

“If you don’t mind, remind the girls exactly what you and Winter are.” His tone of voice was brittle.

 

Verfall’s eyes moved between Yelena and Natalia’s face, catching a glimpse of their carefully concealed terror. A shaky breath escaped her chest, but Verfall kept her composure.

 

“The Soldier and the Weapon are both tools used by HYDRA to fulfill their mission of world peace.” She recited. “They are not people and have never been people. They have no names, except for the ones given by the project leader: Dr. Arnim Zola, and their primary handler.”

 

Sasha’s lips twitched upwards, pleased at her response.

 

James swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, conflicted at the words he was so fervent in believing, yet so fervent in forsaking.

 

Natalia stared at her, distraught.

 

Yelena bit the inside of her lip.

 

Sasha padded forwards, grabbing a stool and placing it across from James. He grimaced, leaning back into the Chair, uncomfortable with the prospect of being at the same level with this- his handler.

 

“This James, did you have dreams about him?” He questioned.

 

Jame- Winter?- stiffened, before slowly nodding.

 

Sasha let out a soft laugh.

 

“See, Winter, you simply got confused with what is and isn’t reality.” He tilted his head. “That’s why I’m here, so I can help guide you when you mix up the two.”

 

James shook his head adamantly.

 

“No, no you don’t understand! It was real!” He futilely replied. “They were real.”

 

His voice was small again, anger shifting into confusion.

 

“Who were real, Soldier?” Sasha questioned sternly.

 

“Stevie.” He whispered. “And Lu.”

 

His eyes flicked to Verfall.

 

“Lucy.” He breathed.

 

She winced, ducking her head. 

 

Sasha hummed, before nodding in agreement.

 

“Okay.” He said. “Okay.”

 

He stood from his stool and moved it aside.

 

“Wipe him.” His eyes flicked to Natalia and Yelena. “Then wipe the girls.”

 

The technicians faltered.

 

“Sir-“

 

Sasha’s sharp eyes narrowed on them.

 

“You can lower the voltage, can’t you? I don’t want any of them remembering each other. Understood?” He ordered and the technicians gulped.

 

They reluctantly stepped forwards and started to type on the computer connected to the Chair. 

 

Clearly, they didn’t want to lose their jobs.

 

Verfall blinked uncomprehendingly as James’s expression grew desperate and horror-filled. Her eyes moved to Natalia and Yelena, struggling to stop her mouth from dropping agape. 

 

They were children. 

 

“Wait, wait- wait-“ Winter protested as one of the technician’s held a metal mouth guard in front of his lips.

 

One of the agents guarding the room stalked forwards and waved the technician to the side. He gripped Winter’s chin and forced the metal between his lips, tinkering against his teeth. 

 

They were children.

 

Something clicked, perhaps a maternal instinct she’d experienced with Joseph- a feeling she’d thought had desecrated underneath the Red Room’s close watch.

 

She lunged towards the guards holding Yelena and Natalia, her elbow meeting the man’s chin. 

 

“Venera!”

 

Verfall’s head snapped to Sasha.

 

She faltered at the pure rage flickering between his eyes, then stumbled back at the sudden heaviness weighing on her shoulders. 

 

She blinked owlishly, trying to keep her head up as the room spun, twisting and turning like a mass of black thread pooling together. 

 

Code Word: Venera.

 

Action: System shut down through neuron breakage.

 

That was- it meant- 

 

She fell backwards and crashed into the agent she’d elbowed, sending them both to the ground.

 

Her eyes rolled back, and she was greeted by a familiar cold darkness.

 

At least this place, this hollow blankness. . .was safe.

Chapter 66: Sixty Five

"Not everything that meets the eye is as it appears.”

???, America

September, 1995

HER EYELIDS WERE HEAVY WHEN she forced them open. She was greeted by bright lights that blinded her immediately. She squinted. The world around her was blurry- she could feel the cold of steel underneath her fingertips, chilling her arms and littering her skin with goosebumps. It was like she was looking through a low resolution camera, everything pixelated and nothing clear. A silent groan escaped her lips and she tried to push herself into a sitting position. She was stopped short by metal digging into her forearms, which was quickly followed by irritation.

 

Her eyes flicked to the dried blood trailing her arms, then the faint scars- cuts which had healed.

 

She furrowed her eyebrows, perplexed by her current predicament. What had happened? She tried to remember the last few moments before inevitably succumbing to darkness. Her breathing grew uneven, discomforted by her inability to remember. She was supposed to remember for Winter- she was supposed to be his box of photos- of memories.

 

She shook her head furiously, hoping the physical action would clear her mind. There was- oh.

 

Relief flooded her veins. There had been the- the tests! It was coming back to her now. Natalia and Yelena had tried to run, and then Sasha had- he had- 

 

The drowsiness disappeared from her eyes as realization struck her. They were going to wipe Winter and then they were going to punish him. They were going to hurt him, or her, or both.

 

There was a small click of metal shifting, and Verfall turned her head to the left. Rather than an agent guarding the door, there was Winter, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning nonchalantly against the wall.

 

She looked at him, expecting him to feel her stare. Instead his head lowered as if he was sleeping- she narrowed her eyes. His lids were shut, his shoulders awfully relaxed for someone who was meant to be alert at all times.

 

She exhaled, letting out a long breath, before clicking her tongue twice. Winter’s head snapped upwards. She gazed at him with soft eyes and he stepped over to her side. He slowly lowered himself to his knees, pain flashing across his features as he gently pressed his nose against her, chin propped on his arms.

 

“Does it hurt?” He asked softly and she tilted her head.

 

“Still functional.” She replied assuringly.

 

He let out a soft noise, something between appeasement and worry. She swallowed a lump in her throat, unsure of what had truly bothered him.

 

“Was it- is it bad?” She asked hesitantly.

 

Winter eyes were downcast as he spoke.

 

“The dagger used. Is yours. Injury was given to the Weapon. As seen fit by the handler. The Weapon was strung up and- and-” He fiddled with his fingers, avoiding her gaze.

 

Sasha had said that, hadn’t he?

 

There was an uneasiness in the way his words were short and clipped.

 

“Winter.” Verfall started. “What did- was it something you did?”

 

He inhaled sharply at her words.

 

“I-“ his metal hand tapped against the table “-The Soldier administered the punishment.”

 

Verfall’s heart broke at the sound of his voice, the vulnerable guilt leaving his lips. His hands curled into fists, threads of hair falling into his face and crossing his eyes like a torn curtain, unable to hide the emotions lurking beneath.

 

“The order was given. The Soldier didn’t- didn’t-“ his breathing grew uneven, eyes wide.

 

She nudged him with her shoulder.

 

He snapped his head up.

 

“They hurt you.” She said. “It’s okay.”

 

Winter shook his head fervently.

 

“I’s not.” He mumbled.

 

Verfall’s eyes flicked around the white room again- catching sight of their masks, and her dagger that was no longer strapped to her thigh. She ignored the wrongness of that.

 

“Winter. . .what did we do yesterday?” She asked, wincing at the aching pain knocking between her bones.

 

Winter’s forehead creased as he thought.

 

“We went on a mission” He replied confidently, before shaking his head.“And I’d done something wrong. I- I failed.”

 

Verfall turned her head to stare at the ceiling. He didn’t remember anything. Not Natalia, not Yelena, not a single girl at the Red Room. He didn’t even know what the Red Room was. She blinked tears out of her eyes. She had no right. 

 

“I see.” She replied softly.

 

The sound of footsteps stopped her from further questioning Winter’s memories. She stiffened as the door to the room slid open.

 

Verfall’s hands moved on their own, struggling to twist around and show there was nothing in her palms- no weapons hidden. She wouldn’t kill him. She couldn’t, physically and mentally, just like Winter couldn’t. She wasn’t sure if it was his pheromones that triggered such a response- the simple scent of him. She didn’t know what else it could be, especially since she had no emotional attachment to him.

 

She wouldn’t, not after what had unintentionally happened the first time.

 

Sasha stepped inside quietly, his soft gaze trailing between the pair. Verfall flinched as he approached, and Winter drew into himself, in an attempt to make himself smaller. 

 

He was wearing silver dress pants, glistening underneath the soft glow of the ceiling light. His tie was a navy blue color, contrasting the bright blue of his eyes. There were perfectly stitched buttons on each cuff of his sleeves. His shoes- his shoes were dress shoes.

 

Verfall squeezed her eyes shut.

 

Those were his shoes. Dr. Schaffer only ever wore black polished dress shoes with those same dark leather strings crossing his feet.

 

Did he know? Or was it a coincidence?

 

His footsteps fell slower, until he was three feet away from the metal table.

 

The pair watched him carefully as he lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs.

 

“Come here.” He beckoned Winter with a small wave of his hand.

 

Winter didn’t hesitate, shuffling on his knees to sit right in front of him. Verfall’s eyes flicked over Winter as Sasha scooped his hair out of his face, bringing it up to the back of his head as he tied the protective curtain away. Winter kept his head bowed, uneasiness reverberating from his shoulders as Sasha calmly started to unbuckle the clasps around his back, shoulders, and chest.

 

Winter inhaled sharply when the combat gear was lifted, brushing against irritated and undoubtedly bruised skin. 

 

Sasha placed the uniform aside and reached over, rolling his black tank top upwards. 

 

Winter couldn’t help it, and let out a whimper of pain.

 

Verfall’s eyes widened at the amount of ugly purple bruises trailing up and down his spine. Some were yellowing, others were a deep, rich violet. 

 

An animal-like noise of disappointment left someone’s lips, and it took Verfall a second to realize it’d been emitted by Sasha. There was an angrily fierce look in his eyes as he reached out, and brushed his fingertips against Winter’s back.

 

Winter squeezed his eyes shut.

 

“They weren’t supposed to beat you.” Sasha scowled, clearly displeased. “I’m sorry, Winter. They will be punished for insubordination.”

 

Verfall stared at him. 

 

Well, that was a first.

 

Sasha gently patted Winter’s head.

 

“Take your shirt off.” He ordered as he helped him up to his feet.

 

Winter winced as he moved, removing his shirt carefully.

 

Sasha turned to Verfall and unclicked the metal cuffs around her arms and ankles using a flat square device. He slipped a hand underneath her back and pushed her upwards into a sitting position. Stabbing pain crossed her abdomen and she exhaled loudly, grimacing.

 

“Deep breaths, Verfall.” He said gently. “You know that was necessary, yes?”

 

She looked down at the metal table.

 

“Yes, Sasha.” Her voice was soft. “I understand.”

 

Sasha smiled.

 

“Good, then you understand I must tighten security.” He continued.

 

She tilted her head with confusion. He seemed to think of her as a dog with a lopsided ear, gently running his hand through her hair. He moved his hand to his pocket and moved his thumb around. 

 

Then he turned to Winter and patted the table next to Verfall.

 

“Heal his back. All of it.” Sasha ordered as Winter carefully seated himself besides her.

 

She turned, her gaze focused on his broken blood vessels as white fog covered her hands and vibrated against his back, see-through tendrils twisting and turning. When she finished she lowered her hands and Sasha turned the dial back. She fiddled with her fingers as they waited for further orders.

 

Something in him shifted as he spoke.

 

“Request to update Protocol: System Override. Alexander Goodwin Pierce. Designation: Primary Handler.” He said smoothly.

 

Winter straightened at the familiar words.

 

Verfall couldn’t help but feel a little dumbfounded. 

 

He was so- they had programmed him to be- and she was supposed to be like that too? 

 

The thing with her programming was, well, it was very centered on one person: Dr. Schaffer. Without the man who quite literally was her base programming, Verfall had to adapt on her own. At least the Lucy part of her had. She’d adapted to HYDRA’s treatments because they’d never wiped her, and they’d never bothered to reprogram her. The consequences of her actions- hurting Winter- was enough to stop her. 

 

But, she had also adapted to James- Winter’s- new way of doing things. She followed everything he said because he had higher authority and was almost a superior- almost. Not really. She was still obligated to make her own decisions based off of mission parameters, but HYDRA had more trust in Winter then they had of her. 

 

It made sense.

 

If she was the one in charge, the pair would’ve already been somewhere in Italy or Africa or some place where they’d never be found again. She would’ve torn off the bracelets and the suffocating jewelry around her neck- tore out their trackers and run.

 

HYDRA was smart for putting Winter in charge, not that he even had a choice.

 

But, it also meant she had to spontaneously support the stunts he pulled. Which wasn’t favorable since his stunts were escape attempts that usually failed. They were outbursts that he wouldn’t even understand after someone- Sasha- managed to calm him down. 

 

Then he’d resort back to being what they’d created him to be.

 

Point being, she wasn’t interested in being spoken to as a machine. 

 

Not that she had a choice.

 

She would have to beat herself into it, force herself. That was always better than the consequences, always better than Winter getting hurt.

 

“Request granted.” Winter replied smoothly.

 

“The Soldier is to be referred to as the Asset and is to refer to itself as the Asset. The Weapon is to be referred to as the Weapon, and is to refer to itself as the Weapon. Usage of I, me, and my are not permitted.”

 

What.

 

What?

 

Verfall swallowed hard at the thought. 

 

Winter contemplated the effectiveness it would have on missions, and whether it was within mission parameters. When everything seemed to be right, he looked back up to Sasha.

 

“Change in Protocol: Confirmed.” He said.

 

Verfall nodded in agreement, muttering a quiet “confirmed”.

 

“Furthermore, the Asset and the weapon have the right to kill agents, and will not be punished for such actions.” Sasha continued. “It is not the Asset or the Weapon’s fault that the STRIKE team assigned was poorly chosen. The murder of technicians, however, is unacceptable, and will result in consequences.”

 

Winter blinked.

 

“Change in Protocol: Confirmed.” He repeated.

 

Verfall remained silent but Sasha smiled anyway.

 

He sounded like he was trying to bait them into killing more agents just because they could. 

 

Maybe he was.

 

“Good. Stand, both of you. And follow.” He ordered.

 

Winter stood from the table and Verfall trailed after him. They followed Sasha like guard dogs. They passed a number of agents, no longer Russians but rather American operatives. Verfall supposed they’d flown from Russia to America during her time unconscious. 

 

The agents snickered, and Verfall blinked.

 

She realized that the Russians, at least in the Red Room, had never once attempted to make fun of their movements, their loyalties. They’d never ridiculed their programming or their conditioning. In fact, they’d regarded them with a high level of respect. The agents had respected them.

 

It occurred to her, then, that the Russians were better.

 

Sasha stopped in front of two agents guarding an entrance with no door. They were both holding a stack of tactical gear and undershirts, nearly identical to the ones they were wearing. 

 

“You have three minutes to shower. Three minutes to look presentable. Understood?” Sasha’s eyes flicked between them.

 

Verfall stared at the two shower stalls. 

 

The curtains that would give them a semblance of privacy- because they didn’t have any, they were weapons- was not connected to a metal pole. They were directly attached to the ceiling. Like they were scared they would remove the pole and murder an agent in their vicinity.

 

The wall separating the two showers was at least a foot thick, as if they were afraid one of them would break a flimsy wall and use it as a weapon.

 

Which they were right to think of.

 

“Affirmative, sir.” They both replied.

 

Sasha took the clothes from the agents and. . .dismissed them?

 

He entered the bathroom and placed the clothes on the sink counter, before stepping back out. 

 

He looked Verfall over once, and seemed to remember she wouldn’t be able to take her uniform off by herself. He loosened the straps, and undid the clasps across her back. 

 

“I will be back in six minutes.” He said firmly.

 

Winter nodded, his eyes sparkling with awe.

 

It was a blatant display of trust, when Sasha had absolutely no reason to trust either one of them. Verfall swallowed the guilt climbing up her throat. Sasha was a good handler, but he wasn’t a good- he wasn’t a good- was-

 

Winter entered his stall, and Verfall mirrored his movements. She removed her tac gear and the dagger that wasn’t there. Her breath hitched in her throat, panic seizing her chest as her hands grew clammy. 

 

It was wrong. 

 

That was hers and it was wrong to not have it.

 

She tried to forget about the discomfort as she removed the rest of her clothes and turned the shower head on. Brumal water sputtered out of the metal and she shivered as she scrubbed the dry blood from her body. She watched it run down the drain with detached interest. She forced herself to blink and focus on the task at hand. 

 

She didn’t have enough time to get lost in herself.

 

She wrung her hair as best she could, resisting the urge to use her abilities as she exited the shower stall and pulled her clothes efficiently over her head. 

 

Winter exited his stall at the same time, his hair pulled back into a neat bun, just as Sasha had left it prior.

 

The straight-jacket like tac vest remained loose on her shoulders, her left sleeve a pale white, with silver eyelets and strings keeping the fabric together. She clipped it around her neck, covering the shimmering gold.

 

When she turned, Winter was staring at her- or well, in her general vicinity. He was holding his tac vest with a blank look, like he was in a completely different place. 

 

Verfall padded towards him, and gently took the vest out of his hands. He blinked slowly. She gazed at him for some time before pulling the vest over his head. She grabbed their new masks and placed them over both of their faces.

 

It clicked Winter back into the present, his metal fingers brushing against the rubber now covering his nose.

 

They remained in the bathroom until Sasha reappeared. He looked between the pair and smiled. There was something familiar in his hand and Verfall almost lurched forwards at the item. It was clean now, just as white as it usually was.

 

He noticed the slight twitch in her fingers as he handed it to her.

 

She clasped it over her thigh almost frantically, like it’d disappear if she didn’t. Sasha watched her curiously, like he didn’t understand her attachment to the blade.

 

She didn’t understand either.

 

Sasha tightened the straps to their uniforms, adjusting them as he saw fit. His hands moved to the masks lining the bridge of their nose, clasping the pieces in the back together, securing it fully. 

 

“Follow me. Agent Sokolov has been appointed your new Commander. I expect your best behavior.” He said firmly.

 

Winter tilted his head. That name wasn’t familiar and the Commander’s name was always familiar. It was always the same, and now it wasn’t. It wasn’t right.

 

He slowly stepped forwards, followed by Verfall as Sasha led them away.

 

They travelled down the hall, then turned left into a room just as white and pale as the others. This one, however, contained two rather costly looking glass chambers- cryostasis chambers. 

 

Volya was standing at the center of the room, a lazy smile on his face. He had one pistol attached to his hip, two knives sheathed inside his boots. Her eyes analyzed every shift in his body, and concluded he was relaxed- just as cheerful as always.

 

Two technicians busied themselves with turning on the chambers, eyes darting away from the pair.

 

Verfall tried not to feel too relieved- Agent Sokolov was just Volga, but that meant he led a whole STRIKE team which they hadn’t met yet.

 

It scared her- if she could get scared.

 

Volya was an awkward agent, and smiled so much because he was genuinely happy. But she’d also seen him kill ruthlessly, wiping blood off his face with a pursed lip- like he was pouting because he got his tac gear dirty. 

 

James Rumlow was never like that.

 

Sasha turned around, gently sliding his hand across their arms and gripping their elbows. The feeling was familiar.

 

“I will see you when you wake.” He said softly. “Be good.”

 

The pair nodded in silence, and Sasha removed his hands, stepping out of the room and closing it with a quiet click.

 

Winter’s eyes shifted back to Volya, staring at him for a long time.

 

“Neighbors Malamutes.” He blurted, cocking his head to the side. “Dead?”

 

Voyla’s lazy smile widened into a happy grin.

 

“Yeah! That was me. I was talking about my neighbors' malamutes. They passed on. I got them two new doggies, though. Do you wanna see?” He rambled, before pausing. “Ah, let me just show you.”

 

He pulled a wallet from his pocket, stepping right in front of the pair as he flipped it open. 

 

There was a colored photo of two husky dogs, one brown and white and the other black and white. They looked fluffy against the snowy background, tiny too. Two people were hugging each dog, lips tilted upwards into beaming smiles. 

 

“This one’s Katya and this one’s Boris.” He pointed from left to right. “They’re the cutest little things. Kinda like you guys, actually. Well, I mean, less murderous I suppose.”

 

Verfall didn’t know if that’d been a backhanded compliment or if it’d been a compliment at all. It didn’t matter, of course, she just couldn’t help but wonder when she’d forgotten what a compliment was. 

 

Winter’s lips twitched upwards behind his mask.

 

Volya pocketed the picture and his wallet, putting his hands on his hips.

 

His grin morphed into a smirk, looking between them.

 

“C’mon, let’s get you guys to sleep.”

 

For the first time, Verfall noticed the perceptive sharpness in his eyes.

Chapter 67: Sixty Six

"Hunting isn’t just something I do. It’s a part of who I am.”

Chechnya, Russia

June, 1996

VOLYA WAS HUMMING A SOFT Russian nursery rhyme about the Boogeyman- Babayaga. Verfall found it unsettling, hearing a man so content singing about the Boogeyman snatching children during the night. She didn’t show her discomfort, barely shifting in her cross legged position on the floor of their transport, an FBI vehicle. It was sleek and less military-like, but it still had the same benches jutting out from each side. 

 

The other agents- Zaitsev, Martinez, Lee- were chattering together about the newest agents hired by HYDRA, and the drama between Chloe and Mark. Supposedly they were a couple who’d broken up because of an affair that hadn’t even happened. According to Zaitsev, Mark was too ugly, and an asshole.

 

Winter- the Asset?- was seated between Volya’s legs, playing with a Rubik’s cube- a hexagonal one- moving the pieces carefully as he tried to make all the colors meet the same face. 

 

Verfall wondered if he’d picked up the object from Joseph. Volya was only a few years younger than the other, but, he seemed intent on staying with HYDRA.

 

Maybe you couldn’t retire from HYDRA alive.

 

Volya’s fingers carefully carded through Winter’s hair, untangling the strands and keeping him relaxed. Verfall eyed Winter as a small sigh left his lips, muffled faintly by his mask. There were two colors mismatched on one side of the cube. Just one. He started to trace back the last few steps he’d done, trying to solve it- correctly this time.

 

“I heard you can hold conversations. Have opinions and stuff.” Volya’s humming had been gone for some time now.

 

She hadn’t noticed.

 

Her eyes shifted to him and he shrugged, leaning back into the wall of the vehicle. His lips were still tilted in an easygoing smile.

 

“You like dogs or cats better?” He asked.

 

Verfall furrowed her eyebrows.

 

What was the right answer? It was too dangerous, having two different choices. She supposed it was better than three choices.

 

Volya seemed to notice the gears in her head turning and he shook his head.

 

“No, well-“ he sighed “-be Lucy. For a minute? Can you? I mean, I need some insight from a person. Ya know? It’s just I’m gonna get a dog or a cat soon cause I’ve always wanted one, but I can’t be home often cause’a this. Dogs need a lot more attention than cats but I also love dogs. Cats are cool too, but they don’t seem as cuddly. I don’t really want a reptile- snake is what I’d get- since I’d have to keep mice. I want to feed them fresh kill, and it’d be messy.”

 

He seemed to ramble a lot.

 

Be Lucy.

 

Was that supposed to be a command?

 

It wasn’t like she could snap back into a person she hadn’t been for decades- years if you omitted the time she spent in cryo. 

 

Dogs and cats.

 

Okay, that wasn’t so bad. She could have an opinion on dogs and cats. It wasn’t like she’d get punished for it. Not when it’d been an order. 

 

She vividly remembered the cats that’d always found themselves climbing the fire escape to her family’s apartment in Germany. They were the neighbors cats, she recalled, an orange tabby and a gray Maltese cat. That one had been soft, but cranky. 

 

Only her father used to be able to pet him. She’d always been jealous.

 

Her heart twisted, wrenching to the side at the memory of her smiling father.

 

No, no, no.

 

Dogs and cats.

 

There had been a dog- dogs whilst they’d trained. The scientists had subjugated them to an arena of guard dogs that had tried to rip them to shreds. 

 

Her neighbor in Brooklyn, not the one murdered, but the one living above her, had owned a cocker spaniel- with gorgeous locks of caramel fur, as if she’d jumped straight out of My Own Brucie- a show she’d read about in the newspaper. She’d seen that dog, had watched the way it cuddled into her owner from her balcony. The dog had been loving, and soft, and wanted to be touched.

 

Her eyes moved to Winter, then Volya’s hand as he absentmindedly played with his- it’s?- the Asset’s?- Winter’s hair.

 

“I like both.” She said quietly. “Dogs and cats each have their own positive and negative traits. I never had a dog before but, um-“

 

Anxiety bubbled in her stomach as she continued to speak. Lee was shushing the other agents once they noticed she wasn’t silent.

 

“My neighbor in America had a small dog. She liked to be pet a lot, and snuggled with her owner. In Germany, before- before-“ she swallowed thickly, her hands tapping against her thigh in a familiar pattern “- there were these two cats my neighbor had. One of them was really fluffy. I couldn’t ever pet it though because she was always cranky. She liked my father. I think you um, you should-“

 

Her heart was constricting, like her body could feel the faux daggers that would be her punishment, the fiery explosion of pain trailing up and down her back. 

 

She was telling a handler what to do, even if it was just a suggestion.

 

But he wanted an answer and she had to to uncover parts of her as best she could.

 

“- get a dog, one that doesn’t have separation anxiety ‘cause dogs can have ‘em and you said you wouldn’t be home a lot. A miniature schnauzer or, um, a Chow Chow would be nice. I used to want one when I was a kid-“

 

She abruptly cut herself short. She took a deep breath. Her eyes moved to Winter, who was still engrossed with his Rubik’s cube.

 

She fiddled with her fingers.

 

“- anyway, you seem to like something that’ll cuddle or like to be pet and cats don’t like that all the time. Unless you get a lucky cat but they usually need some time alone.” She hesitantly looked up at Volya.

 

He looked thoughtful, not angry or upset by her inquiry at all.

 

“You lived in Germany and America?” He finally questioned.

 

She nodded jerkily.

 

“Huh. . .sorry, that was off topic. A miniature schnauzer? The dog’s with like those beards right?” He said.

 

She nodded again.

 

“You know what, I think I might go with that. I really liked the dogs with those furry beards as a kid.” He grinned. “So, that’s your person side, huh?”

 

Lucy supposed she should’ve been a bit more clear. At least she could clarify certain things.

 

“I’m still the Weapon as much as I am Lucy.” She explained softly. “It’s uh, they couldn’t program me right. Only one person could but- well, I’m still me. Just shutting parts of myself away.”

 

She paused.

 

“It used to be easier. To go back to how I’d been for twenty years but you’re my- my mission handler and-“ cold sweat threatened to trickle down her neck “-the Weapon just- the Weapon just- told you- to- do- something-“

 

Her chest rose and fell quickly as she struggled to breathe, gasping for air that wasn’t entering her lungs. Her struggle was audible and Volya swung one of his legs over Winter, moving to sit closer to her. 

 

He gently placed a hand on her back, rubbing circles into her uniform.

 

Winter’s eyes were on her now, away from his Rubik’s cube, although he held onto it tightly.

 

“Easy.” Volya said. “Breathe in, hold, breathe out.”

 

She listened to his instructions, staying as steady as possible. He smiled at her once her breathing had gone back to normal. 

 

Then winked.

 

She stared up at him, unsure and momentarily dumbfounded.

 

He knew that was going to happen.

 

He knew.

 

He shifted back to his prior seat, and Winter seemed to grow content again, his gaze shifting back to his puzzle. Volya’s hand moved to play with Winter’s hair again, and this time he pointedly gazed at her, raising an eyebrow.

 

“You’re right.” He nodded. “I do like to pet things.”

 

Verfall blinked.

 

An insult? A confession? Or an observation?

 

She mutely nodded, then, after careful speculation, shifted closer to him, leaning her head against his knee. 

 

Volya stared at her, before letting out a small genuine laugh. His hand moved from Winter’s head to hers. He was gentle and soft and warm. She melted, shoulders dropping.

 

Agent Lee rolled his eyes at their Commander’s idiocy, and Agent Martinez scowled at his superior. Agent Zaitsev bit his lip to stop a chuckle.

 

The vehicle continued forwards, until they finally came to a stop.

 

“There’s interns here, aren’t there?” Agent Zaitsev questioned seriously.

 

Volya nodded and Agent Lee smirked.

 

“That’s some bad luck. That’s also why you don’t intern to foreign countries.” He whistled.

 

Agent Martinez  elbowed him in the side.

 

“Oh shaddup, man, I interned abroad.” He huffed. “I never thought the fuckin’ Winter Soldier would crash my internship.”

 

“Alright, focus.” Volya clapped his hands.

 

Winter flinched beneath him and stopped playing with his Rubik’s cube, finally looking up. 

 

“Let’s recap here.” He sounded like a commander now, serious and tense. “Lee, Martinez, guard the exit Dudayev will approach. Zaitsev, you’ll be with me, posing as guards for the target.”

 

Target: Dzhokhar Dudayev. Soviet Air Force general and Chechen secularist leader, the first President of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria, a breakaway region in the North Caucasus, from 1991 to present day.

 

Verfall and Winter listened closely.

 

“The Asset and the Weapon will terminate all people in the vicinity of the target.” He turned to the pair as he spoke. 

 

Winter tucked his Rubik’s cube to his chest.

 

“Confirmed, sir.” Verfall replied smoothly.

 

Volya tilted his head at Winter, watching the way he held tightly to the little thing. He held out his hand, and Winter stared up at him blankly. 

 

Verfall watched tensely as Volya leaned forwards and wrapped his hand around the nape of his neck, grip soft but firm. Winter flinched, wide round eyes looking up at him. Volya raised an eyebrow, holding his hand out again. Winter pursed his lips and Volya faltered for a second.

 

He was pouting.

 

The Commander sighed.

 

“Asset.” He said warningly. “Don’t make me hit you.”

 

Winter winced, and very slowly held the object out.

 

“You can’t get attached to these things.” Volya clicked his tongue. “Otherwise I can’t ever give you anything.”

 

Volya twisted the hexagon clean in half- it was a fragile thing anyway- and Winter watched with horror as he discarded both pieces into the little trash can in the corner of the van. Volya smiled down at him sadly, and Winter lowered his head.

 

Verfall swallowed.

 

Lenient. . .but not?

 

“Both of you track down the target, then kill him once he gets near the back exit.” He ordered.

 

“Confirmed, sir.” Winter mumbled guiltily.

 

Volya pushed open the back doors.

 

They were behind an extravagant hotel that had some roman-esque touches to it. The ceiling was high, round and arched. The windows were comprised of colored stained glass, forming shapes of Roman deities that seemed to stare down at them with keen, watchful eyes.

 

Verfall climbed out of the vehicle, Winter landing on the ground harshly as he adjusted the gun strapped to his upper back, a CZ Vz. 61 E Skorpion.

 

Volya whistled softly, and she tilted her head back to see him wave a disc in his hand, spinning it clockwise.

 

“Compliance is rewarded.” He grinned, waving at the pair as he shut the door to the van.

 

Determination caressed Winter’s gaze as they trudged towards a back exit, glowing red with a cartoon picture of stairs. 

 

Verfall grasped Winter’s arm, pausing for a second.

 

His eyes flicked up to her and she patted his arm in an attempt to express her condolences. He seemed to appreciate it, nodding at her once. 

 

Verfall burned the inner workings of the lock, and Winter twisted it open easily with his metal hand.

 

The pair stalked inside.

 

Soft classical music echoed between the walls, reverberating throughout the stairwell as they climbed upwards, skipping two stairs with each step. 

 

Verfall knew attempting to speak with him was a death wish- okay, well, maybe not for her. But he’d do enough with his eyes, or his fists if he was really aggravated. It was mission-necessary to make sure he wasn’t going to explode and kill the team, all because Volya had torn his favored puzzle into pieces.

 

Volya had been smart about it though- he’d given Winter enough affection that he wouldn’t, so she supposed it was simply paranoia flitting back and forth across her mind.

 

Winter stopped in front of the entrance to the roof, and Verfall quickly unlatched the door for him.

 

He gazed at her, then clicked his tongue twice.

 

She tilted her head, before nodding as he exited the stairwell.

 

She shut the door behind him, then stared down at the amount of flights they’d climbed. She grabbed the railing, then jumped. She slowed her fall, fog covering her feet, until she reached the third floor, swinging herself back onto the staircase. She caught her balance easily before exiting through the door.

 

She was greeted by a hallway of hotel rooms and carefully locked each door with white wisps. She reached the end of the hall, meeting an expansive hallway, empty of anyone and filled with artworks of various sizes. The floor changed as she walked. She could now see the mahogany floorboards peaking outwards from beneath the carpet. 

 

When she reached the end of the hall she let the prior hotel doors unlock. 

 

There was a staircase. 

 

It was carpeted in red and it’s railing were engraved with gold. The main stairwell, she assumed. She pushed open the two glass doors, and stared upwards, grasping her grappling hook and pointing it at the decorative arch. She made the air around her denser as she slipped upwards, landing silently. 

 

She let go.

 

And waited.

 

After a few minutes a small group of security guards stationed themselves around the area, oblivious to her presence. She watched them like a hawk, waiting for the signal to dive. She didn’t let her gaze linger directly on each man for too long- everyone had a sixth sense, the sense of being watched.

 

She remained patient as people came and went, walking through exits, up and down the stairs. She let herself relax, fiddling with the straps on her uniform as she waited. It wasn’t until she heard a horde of footsteps that she perked up again, eyes dropping to the entrance.

 

Their target sauntered forwards with a circle of agents, two men in suits- close friends, she supposed- besides him. The agents in the very back, Verfall noted, were Agent Zaitsev and Volya.

 

She strained her ears to hear someone other than them.

 

There was a particularly loud whir- a hand clenching into a fist- that caught her attention. Her eyes flitted to the mural walls as a metal arm burst through it, taking a guard along with it. 

 

The one beside him immediately stumbled backwards, eyes wide with terror. Another agent, the less cowardly one, rushed forwards with a fist raised. It was almost laughable as Winter swung both his feet at him with full force. The man hit the ground with the thud as Winter threw one of his daggers at the man who’d attempted to flee.

 

Blood splattered behind him.

 

Winter grabbed the other agent by his neck, slamming a knife into his soft flesh. 

 

Verfall clicked her tongue twice, the sound echoing as Winter ripped the knife out of him. The target, idiotically, climbed back up one step to see what the hell was going on. That one step wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The pair never failed.

 

There was a scrambling sound of russian- frantic and practically incoherent as Winter stared up at her. A barrage of bullets exploded around him but he deflected them with his metal arm. 

 

Winter was a whirlwind of death, and Verfall could see the horror- the recognition of rumors, of the metal arm- in their target’s eyes. 

 

Verfall climbed onto the other side of the archway as the target futilely sprinted down the stairs. 

 

She dropped in front of him, floor tiles crumbling.

 

The horror in his eyes intensified. He had heard the rumors of a light that disintegrated whatever it touched. Of a person who could wield it with such efficiency it seemed to be an extension of their limb.

 

Two agents sprinted towards her, guns raised. Bullets dissolved around her, metallic piles of powder flitting across the air. She narrowed her eyes and both men crumbled to the ground, eyes rolling into the back of their heads.

 

Winter backflipped off the balcony, slamming his fist into one agent and firing at the agent behind him, using his metal arm to block the man’s shot. He produced a knife from his sleeve, which buried itself into an agent’s trachea.

 

She shifted her eyes back to the target, cocking her head to the side.

 

She moved to kill him.

 

There was a sharp click and Verfall drew back, looking over the target’s shoulder to see Winter staring at her as he shot a man three times- twice in the chest, once in the head.

 

She noticed his feral anger, and slowly lowered her hands.

 

The target suddenly burst forwards, shoving her to the side. Verfall let herself be pushed, watching the man as Winter stalked right to him. 

 

His metal arm whipped forwards and gripped the target by his throat, shoving him past the glass doors and towards the back exit.

 

That’s when Verfall noticed him.

 

He had to be younger than twenty-five, a college student most-likely. He had a blue bag in his hand, a visitor’s lanyard around his neck. His hand was frantically trying to open the door, but his fingers couldn’t stop shaking. He failed to put the key in the door.

 

His eyes were focused on Winter, until she moved towards him. The man’s eyes flicked to her, his lip trembling as she stared at him.

 

“Hail HYDRA.” She heard Winter mutter as the target took its last breath.

 

The body fell limp to the floor.

 

Agent Zaitsev kicked a body out of the way with his foot as Volya stuck his head between the glass doors, raising an eyebrow at the younger witness.

 

Winter turned at the sound of the door rattling. His eyes were cold, narrowed into a deadly glare. 

 

Verfall gazed at the witness, and the witness’s hand shook harder as he tried to unlock the door with his key. 

 

“Shit.” The man whispered, breath trembling.

 

Winter drew closer, then paused as Verfall placed a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes moved to the student’s name tag- RJ Nakajima, intern.

 

It wasn’t fair.

 

Winter shifted his stare to hers, his eyes darkening into a pool of black- at least that’s what it felt like. He pivoted on his foot, slow and steady, as his other hand reached up and wrapped around her neck.

 

She swallowed, wincing at the pressure against her throat grew painful. 

 

“Asset.” She pressed, the word foreign on her lips. “The Weapon didn’t mean to.”

 

Winter’s grip loosened, that wild look in his eyes only growing worse. She started to pry his fingers loose and-

 

“Please.” RJ pleaded. “I didn’t see anything.”

 

It broke Winter out of his trance and he relented, stepping towards the student like a lion hunting an injured calf.

 

“I didn’t see anything.” He repeated like a chant. “I didn’t see anything.”

 

Winter drew his weapon, a Nickel SIG-Sauer P226 pistol, a small gun, before pulling the trigger.

 

Brain matter exploded behind the student- the witness- and he fell to the ground with a deadly thud. 

 

Verfall felt like the gunshot was louder than the others.

 

She stepped past Winter as he holstered his gun, placing a hand on the student's head. Her hand covered itself with fog and she heard Agent Zaitsev take a step forward, only to be stopped by Volya’s harsh order.

 

The bullet wound closed, and she moved her hand to the student’s eyes, shutting them gently.

 

She stood, only to meet Winter’s glare. She cocked her head to the side and he huffed, jerking his head towards the body on the floor.

 

She took a silent step forwards, defiant as she kept his gaze. There was a tense stand-off, before Winter slowly took a step back. 

 

The back entrance opened as Agent Lee and Martinez entered, looking bored by their guarding duties. Their brows furrowed at the tension between the two weapons.

 

Winter hardly gave them a glance.

 

Verfall knew he was too busy preparing to swing at her. She ducked when his metal arm slammed forwards, kicking out her legs to sweep him off his feet. Winter pulled his fist back and jumped, skidding back.

 

Verfall flipped back onto her feet.

 

“Holy shit. . .are they- fighting each other?” Agent Martinez breathed in shock.

 

Volya waved a hand at him, shushing the agent as he watched with his own morbid curiosity. He’d never seen anything like this before- there were no recorded fights between the pair, at least in the files the Americans had.

 

“The Weapon is not to interfere when the Asset can take care of the targets.” Winter snarled.

 

Verfall scoffed, her hands enveloping in white energy.

 

“The Asset did not lock eyes on the witness before the Weapon, thus the Weapon deserved to kill the witness.” She replied coldly.

 

Winter scowled beneath his mask and drew his gun. He shot at her multiple times but the bullets merely dissolved. But he was getting closer. He push-kicked at her abdomen and she grabbed onto his foot tightly, shoving him backwards as hard as she could. 

 

She let go of his foot before kicking up her feet and hooking them around his waist. The sudden added weight caused him to teeter before they both tumbled to the ground. She slammed her fist into his torso and he brought up his knee. He tucked it over hers and forced both of them to spin. He raised his metal fist and attempted to punch her hard in the face. Instead, his hand was covered in white energy, buzzing against his hand.

 

He huffed as a ball of energy pressed into his back. He grimaced against the force and it gave her enough time to slide out from beneath him. The energy disappeared as she kicked him hard in the side. 

 

It made him roll, but he was on his feet as if she’d never hit him at all. She’d been expecting it, using her left arm to block his right hook. She sent a fist to his cheek. He dodged, then jabbed at her with his metal arm. She grabbed onto him immediately, pulling his body of pure muscle mass over her shoulder. He landed on his back with a grunt, and she held his hand above him, keeping his shoulder blade strained. She put both her feet on either side of him.

 

He used his other hand to flip a knife from his side, before stabbing it straight into her thigh. 

 

Sharp pain exploded across her skin, like she’d been burned, and her eyes watered on instinct. She huffed, staring down at Winter as she tore the blade out, tossing it to the side.

 

It was silent, except for their quiet breathing, and the plop plop of her blood dripping to the floor.

 

Winter’s eyes seemed to clear as he examined the blood oozing from her thigh.

 

“The Asset didn’t mean to.” He whispered.

 

Verfall nodded silently, releasing his arm and holding a hand out towards him.

 

He grasped her, and pulled himself into his feet.

 

She looked down at her thigh and grimaced as she regenerated the wound, skin and flesh stitching together. She exhaled as the pain slowly dissipated.

 

“Well-“

 

Their heads turned to Volya as he stepped in front of the back entrance.

 

“Come on.” 

 

The two hurriedly stepped behind him, following with utmost care as their van came into view, driven by an agent she hadn’t bothered learning the name of. 

 

Volya sat down and beckoned Verfall to sit on the floor in front of him. She did so silently, and he separated her hair into parts. It was a tangled mess- she knew that much.

 

Winter seated himself next to Volya’s leg, and the Commander gently patted the top of his head.

 

“You were good, both of you.” He assured. 

 

Agent Lee sighed as he leaned his head back against the van, besides Agent Martinez who was ruffling up his hair.  

 

Agent Zaitsev sat beside Volya, on the opposite side of Winter.

 

“Hey Martinez.” Volya waved. “You got a brush on you, right?”

 

Agent Martinez sighed, standing to his feet and grabbing his duffel bag from the corner. He dumped it on the ground as the van started to move.

 

He zipped it open and rummaged inside before pulling out a small brush and a comb.

 

Agent Lee let out a laugh.

 

“I’ve got curly hair, man. I’ve gotta keep up with it.” He huffed as he handed the objects to Volya.

 

“Thanks.” The Commander nodded as he started to brush her hair back.

 

She winced, and he shushed her softly, gently combing out the knots.

 

Winter leaned his head against Volya’s thigh, and Volya patted his head again.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m dividing my attention evenly between you.” He said to Winter who seemed to pout at his words.

 

Agent Zaitsev cleared his throat.

 

“So. . .Chinese?”

Chapter 68: Sixty Seven

"Arrogance is an unhealthy ego in need of repair.”

North Dakota, America

January, 2004

SASHA ENTERED THEIR CELL, WEARING a suit just as pristine as the last. Neither of them moved, not until Sasha lowered himself to the floor and beckoned them forwards. He looked different- older. But his smile was the same. They had maneuvered around him like two tense cats, unsure but desperate for affection- for a form of approval from their handler. 

 

Winter’s head was leaned against Sasha’s shoulder, and Verfall was curled around him, her knees drawn up against his crossed legs. 

 

Her eyes were closed as he spoke.

 

“-and my daughter, she wanted a car for her birthday. She’s turning eighteen, and wants more independence. It shocked me, a bit. I’d never thought she’d grow up to be such a strong, admirable girl. She’s still my little baby, though. I can vividly remember the first time I got to hold her in my arms.” Sasha gently pulled a strand of hair out of Verfall’s face. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. Her mother- my wife- she well, she would’ve loved to see her now. She’d be so proud.”

 

There was a melancholic tone in his voice and Winter found it discomforting in his stomach, like he’d eaten something rotten and couldn’t quite digest it- not that he’d ever eaten anything solid before.

 

Verfall didn’t remember if he’d ever told them about his wife. He’d spoken about his parents, and his mother’s passing- and the kittens he’d adopted- and the cake he’d failed in baking with his daughter when she was in sixth grade.

 

He’d never mentioned his wife, or her death. Perhaps it’d been too intimate for him to share- but Sasha had gotten soft. Each time they conversed, or well, he told stories, he seemed to see them as. . .something else, not quite human but not quite weapon either.

 

That didn’t mean he was more lenient.

 

The pair were a means to an end- it was justified.

 

Another distant part of her wondered if the older man was lonely. It made sense- he was a double-sided politician with more twisted agenda’s than one. Making friends with other politicians was pointless unless it managed to benefit him.

 

She knew that much from World War II and Hitler’s deals.

 

Sasha cleared his throat.

 

“Anyway, my daughter’s planning on majoring in law. She wants to go to Oxford University in London. She said it reminds her of Hogwarts.” He continued.

 

Winter tilted his head, confused.

 

“Hogwarts?” He reiterated.

 

Sasha smiled.

 

The pair had learned that Sasha enjoyed the small child-like questions they asked. It confused them- he wasn’t supposed to allow such behavior- but it didn’t matter if it made him content.

 

“Yes. It’s from a book of magic. The description of Hogwarts is a castle, and Oxford University is quite literally a castle.” He explained gently. “Maybe you can see it one day. On a mission.”

 

Winter’s eyes glimmered at the thought and Sasha chuckled, patting the top of his head softly.

 

Sasha glanced at his watch for a moment, before shifting in his seat. Verfall slowly opened her eyes as he moved to stand, and Winter pulled his head away. She scooted out of the way as Sasha adjusted the collar to his shirt.

 

“They should be here by now. . .” He muttered to himself before smiling broadly down at the pair. “Follow, both of you. You have a survey mission with STRIKE Team: Alpha today.”

 

Oh, Verfall swallowed unsurely, it was one of those days.

 

Ever so often the pair were taken out for meagre watch missions. Their only task was to observe a particular politician, or their family on a vacation for suspicious activity, then return to their safe house and remain there until the next hour of patrol. It wasn’t a difficult task for the pair- in fact some would say it was too easy.

 

Which it was.

 

The mission wasn’t meant for them, really. It was Sasha’s way to test the new members joining his STRIKE team. They needed to exude confidence, not fear, while staying in the same room- sleeping in the same house- as Winter, who was more murderous than a wild boar. There had been a few instances where Verfall had followed Winter’s lead and murdered their whole team. 

 

They had never run from their safe house. Just stayed, until a retrieval team picked them up and they were returned to Sasha who only scolded them as punishment. 

 

Besides, that team had been particularly ruthless.

 

Verfall thought they deserved what’d been coming their way.

 

The pair pushed themselves to their feet and walked softly behind him, silent as their eyes flicked back and forth across the hall. A few agents who worked computers were drinking coffee, pausing only to stare at them as they passed.

 

They turned into a much wider hall that had several cubicles of computers on either side, almost like a small, open warehouse. She could hear people clicking away on their keyboards and chuckling with their coworkers.

 

Sasha continued towards double doors, made completely of glass.

 

She saw the interior of the vast room before she entered. 

 

It was a gymnasium, with a railed track jutting out from the sides of the second floor. At the center of the gym were thick black ropes used for climbing practice. There were six different training mats, huge black squares of rubber and practically untearable fabric. Weight lifting machines were spread across the sides, in front of mirrors bolted into the wall. Dumbbells of all sizes accompanied each side of the area.

 

What was most odd, was the amount of agents milling about. Some were in workout clothes, bright and flashy as they jogged around the track. Others were wearing sweaters as they bicep curled, constantly checking their form in the mirror. Some were sparring with a comrade, laughing when their opponent hit the ground, who groaned with annoyance.

 

There were over twenty agents in the room, and they all stopped when Sasha entered. It was like time itself had paused to respect the older man.

 

Sasha’s eyes scanned them, before he nodded.

 

Activity rushed into the room soon after, and Verfall realized just how much power their handler held. Something like respect and horror bloomed in her stomach.

 

“This way.” Sasha ordered, guiding them towards a training mat, where a group of agents were resting on a bench, sweat towels thrown over their shoulders.

 

Some of them were familiar- the Commander, Agent Martinez, and Agent Lee- while the last three were agents they’d never seen before.

 

When they stopped in front of the five-Volya shaking Sasha’s hand in greeting- Winter found himself drawn to the agent with a particular swoop to his nose, left lip lifted in a lopsided grin. 

 

Something about the facial structure of his jaw, his brows, his eyes- his dark chocolate eyes like- like- something.

 

Verfall followed Winter’s gaze, Sasha’s voice sounding muted as he spoke to the agents.  

 

Her eyes traced his face, his sharp brows, his dark eyes- and just as dark hair to match with it. She tilted her head as she examined every inch of his facial features. It didn’t take her long to realize the man was a near spitting image of Joseph- not James, James had more of a slimmer chin.

 

Was that- ?

 

The Agent- Agent Rumlow?- noticed their gazes and turned his head to look at both of them. He raised a curious eyebrow, and Verfall resisted the urge to step forward.

 

Sasha was gone again- they hadn’t paid attention to what he said.

 

“It’s been a long time, Asset.” Volya smiled, and Winter turned to him, blinking with uncertainty.

 

Who was he?

 

Then the man’s hand started reaching out and Winter instinctively flinched, dropping his gaze to the ground. He waited for pain, only to be greeted by the familiar soft touch of- of-

 

The Commander. Volya.

 

His shoulders dropped as he relaxed, leaning into the touch he’d missed for a time he didn’t remember.

 

“Now you remember.” He grinned. “Malamutes.”

 

Winter’s gaze sparkled with recognition and he nodded once.

 

Volya’s eyes shifted to Verfall as he pulled his hand back.

 

“Good afternoon to you too, Weapon.” That lazy smile was on his face again.

 

He turned on his feet and waved his hand to one of the three new agents seated.

 

“Agent Damnit Westfahl, meet the Asset, and the Weapon.” He introduced the man to the foreboding pair. “They could kill you before you even blink, but as long as you aren’t an asshole, you’ll be fine.”

 

Agent Lee snickered.

 

“Westfahl’s not gonna last very long.” He smirked.

 

Agent Westfahl rolled his eyes, but Winter and Verfall could feel the nervous energy shifting around him. He looked between them once, then excused himself by grasping his water bottle and taking a swig.

 

Besides Agent Westfahl was a taller, rather intimidating man who seemed to be more muscle then person. His hair was longer in length, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to cut it yet. It was slicked back with gel that smelled oddly comforting.

 

His lips were in a thin line, not frowning but not smiling either. He looked almost emotionless- cold- but his eyes were too hardened to be real. 

 

There was a very tiny flicker- a softness between his eyes- that Verfall would’ve missed if she hadn’t been examining him.

 

“Agent Jack Rollins, the Asset and the Weapon. I suspect your military training will come in handy.” Volya said.

 

He was ex-military. Interesting.

 

Agent Westfahl gasped, placing an over-dramatic hand over his heart.

 

“I’m offended you didn’t imply Rollins could be an asshole.” He said and Volya rolled his eyes lightheartedly.

 

Next to Agent Rollins was- was- it had to be Rumlow, or a distant relative of his at least.

 

Volya seemed expectant of their focused stares.

 

“Agent Brock Rumlow, the Asset and the Weapon.” He paused, turning to look at the pair. “Don’t know if you’ve been told, but James Rumlow was killed on a mission operation that’d gone south back in 94’ or 5’. The reports said ‘wrong place, wrong time’.”

 

Winter tilted his head blankly.

 

Who was- who was that? James. . .Rumlow?

 

“Pierce was on that mission.” Volya smiled- there was something sharp in that smile.

 

Verfall’s heart dropped to her chest.

 

Pierce was on that mission.

 

He had rigged the operation. It was the only way James would’ve been stupid enough to do something that’d get himself killed. He was always careful, always, but Pierce had seen him as an obstacle and an annoyance.

 

The end justifies the means.

 

Agent Rumlow raised an eyebrow.

 

“Woah, woah, you gossiping about the dead, Sokolov?” He grinned, as if his father’s death meant nothing at all.

 

Volya shrugged, before waving his hand at Agent Lee and Martinez in a non-dismissive manner.

 

“These two already know both of you and vice versa.” He put his hands on his hips. “I’ll give you a debrief packet once we start heading up to North Dakota.”

 

He turned to the rest of his team.

 

“All right, all of you clean up and suit up. We’ll meet at garage C3 at 1500.” Volya shook his hands at the five agents. “Now shoo, all of you.”

 

“Adios!” Agent Lee saluted as he marched out of the room.

 

“Idiot, you forgot your water bottle!” Agent Martinez groaned as he grabbed the object, jogging over towards his comrade.

 

Verfall watched as Agent Martinez smacked Agent Lee with the water bottle. Agent Rumlow stretched as he stood, cracking his neck before tossing his towel at Agent Rollins. The taller man caught it, and raised an eyebrow as Agent Rumlow grabbed both of their water bottles.

 

Agent Rollins let out a long sigh.

 

Something formed inside of Winter’s chest- something desperate and uncontainable. He stepped forwards, shuffling in front of Agent Rollins and Agent Rumlow. The pair stopped, momentarily bewildered by his actions.

 

“Winter.” Volya’s voice was firm, but Winter needed-

 

He needed to-

 

His metal hand reached out, and Agent Rumlow stared up at him with defiance.

 

Winter lowered his gaze but let his hand drop on the Comma- Agent Rumlow’s head, tapping him lightly twice. Then he pulled his hand back quickly, feeling better as he moved to stand beside the Commander.

 

Agent Rumlow slowly repositioned his hair, eyeing Winter like he was an anomaly, before sauntering towards the locker room with Agent Rollins by his side.

 

The taller man glanced Verfall over once- was that pity?- before turning back.

 

“Alright, come on now.” Volya said as he grabbed onto both of their hands, pulling them forwards like two toddlers. “You know overnight survey missions means stuffed duffel bags. And it’s the middle of goddamn Winter.”

 

Verfall nodded in silent understanding.

 

Volya guided them towards the exit, and turned down a hallway before stopping in front of a door labeled Authorized Personnel Only. He grabbed a keycard from his pocket and pressed it against a flat metal detector. It lit up green and the door unlocked as he pushed it open.

 

Winter gazed at the little thing in his hand with childlike curiosity and Volya beamed.

 

“It’s cool, huh? I’ll let you scan out.” He winked and Winter looked up at him brightly- or as brightly as he could with a mask covering the bottom half of his face.

 

The area was reminiscent of a locker room, with lockers, at least three feet by five, filled with duffel bags and three uniforms identical to the ones they were wearing. To the left of the room were an array of rifles, pistols and knives, all hanging like glistening ornaments.

 

Winter’s eyes narrowed onto a particularly sharp and rather beautiful knife, but quickly turned away from it at Volya’s observant gaze.

 

He padded towards the lockers, pulling them open and dragging out two duffel bags. It was filled with survival essentials: nutrient drips and protein bars that were staler than week old bread; thin blankets that barely warmed either one of them; and canteens for the team.

 

Verfall stepped to the far back of the room, where a sleek briefcase sat almost delicately against the wall. As innocent as it seemed, the little case harbored an array of weapons, filled to the brim with tactile knives and pistols. It’d be too conspicuous to drag a whole duffel bag of tinkering weaponry on the road.

 

This was supposed to be a covert operation anyway.

 

She wondered what their cover would be if they ever got pulled over on the road. Would they say they were merely friends on a road trip? Would Volya order them to kill the officer?

 

It was pointless speculation, really, since the roads they used were either closed off to the public or monitored by faux citizens- HYDRA agents- for the interval of time they used the road.

 

Winter handed one of the duffel bags to her and she pulled it over her shoulder, unaffected by the weight.

 

Volya stepped in front of Winter and grabbed his right hand, placing the keycard inside of it.

 

There was an uncertain look in Winter’s eyes- was he allowed to touch his handler’s things?- but it was quickly replaced by curiosity as Volya took a step to the side.

 

“Go on.” He assured.

 

Winter’s hand gripped tightly onto the card, careful not to snap it in half. He placed it against the little metal piece, and jolted like a scared cat when the light turned green and the lock clicked open. 

 

Volya let out an amused laugh, and Winter looked at him for approval.

 

“Yes, you did good, Asset.” He smiled as he opened the door.

 

They trekked towards the numerous garages within the facility. They passed parking lots filled with SUVs and BMWs with tinted windows. There were other, smaller and older modeled cars- like a Ford Mustang SVT Cobra and a Aston Martin DB7.

 

Then there was a row of vans- some were white, others were a dull gray, and a few were pitch black. Besides those were small RV’s, each as large as the vans.

 

Volya pulled out a key from his pocket and pointed it to one of the compact RV’s. It beeped, red lights flickering as Volya pulled open the small side door. He stepped inside and beckoned the pair to follow.

 

The pair had to duck their heads to avoid running into the top of the vehicle.

 

They were immediately greeted by a semi-circle couch, black and white and modern, surrounding a square table that held a small empty vase. Right next to the entrance was a long couch, then a bathroom beside it. There was one wider couch pushed to the back of the RV, which could undoubtedly serve as a bed.

 

Volya removed the vase, then folded the square table in half. Metal creaked as it collapsed on itself to fit perfectly on the ground, blending in with the wooden floorboards. He opened a compartment beneath the seats around it, pointing Winter to them.

 

He pushed the duffel bag underneath, followed by Verfall’s bag, then the briefcase of weaponry.

 

“Asset, sit.” Volya pointed towards the floor in front of the wider couch to the very back.

 

Winter moved swiftly as he lowered himself to the ground.

 

Volya waved his hand at Verfall.

 

“You too, stay with it.” He ordered.

 

Verfall ducked her head and stepped over to him- because Winter was still a him- and sat. Winter stared forwards, losing himself in a thousand-yard stare. He was losing time, and Verfall let him be as she played with the eyelets on her white sleeve. 

 

She lifted her head only when the sound of Agent Lee and Martinez bickering drew closer. The door was pulled open and Agent Rumlow stepped inside, dumping his backpack on the floor near the driver's seat as he dropped onto the semi-circle couch, followed by Agent Lee, then Volya who was laughing. 

 

Agent Martinez grumbled as he entered, dropping his bag next to the driver’s seat and slipping behind the wheel.

 

“I’ll buy you dinner!” Agent Lee grinned towards the back of Martinez’s head.

 

“Like hell you will.” Agent Martinez grumbled as he put the keys into the ignition.

 

Agent Rollins and Westfahl climbed in afterwards, dropping their bags on the floor besides the entrance. Agent Westfahl plopped himself onto the couch and threw his legs up to lay down, his hands put behind his head. 

 

Agent Rollins barely responded, only rolling his eyes. He glanced at the pair sitting on the ground- the wide couch behind them abandoned.

 

Verfall stared at him, her shoulders stiffening as she moved into a slow crouch. She hid Winter from his view, carefully observing the taller agent. 

 

Agent Rumlow followed Rollins’s gaze.

 

Verfall’s eyes flicked to Rumlow  and drew back at the fierce glare he shot her. She ducked her head apologetically, turning on her feet and pushing Winter slowly closer to the other side of the RV. Once there was enough room for Rollin’s to let his legs hang over the couch, she sat down beside Winter again.

 

Agent Rollins blinked in surprise, before sitting down on the couch, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“Play nice, Weapon.” Volya said as he looked back at her.

 

Verfall lowered her head.

 

“Confirmed, sir.” She replied.

 

Winter turned his head to her, blinking slow, before staring ahead of him again. Verfall watched him with confusion. She placed a hand in his, and gently squeezed.

 

“Holy shit- it can talk?” She heard Agent Westfahl exclaim from the couch, sitting up.

 

Agent Rumlow scowled.

 

“The fuck? What did you think they were- robots?” He questioned.

 

Agent Martinez laughed as he started backing out of the parking lot.

 

“Well, yeah.” Agent Westfahl said bluntly.

 

Agent Lee burst into laughter, shaking his head like that’d been the dumbest thing he’d ever heard.

 

There was suddenly a hand on her head and Verfall tensed, eyes widening slightly as the hand brushed through her hair. She slowly tilted her head to look up at Agent Rollins.

 

He hesitantly pulled his hand away, an awkward motion.

 

“Thanks.” His voice was gruff, like he was a man of little words.

 

Verfall blinked, then gently knocked her head against his knee in response.

 

His lips twitched.

 

Volya cleared his throat, waving a lazy hand at Agent Martinez who reached into the glove compartment as he drove, holding a stack of paper behind him. 

 

Agent Lee grasped it, handing out the thicker packets to everyone, before giving two thinner ones to Volya. The Commander stood and walked over to Verfall, crouching to their height as he placed the packet in between their hands.

 

Winter cleared his eyes furiously.

 

“Read through it.” Volya ordered. “Asset, follow.”

 

Winter stood to his feet carefully as Volya walked back to the semi-circle couch. He sat down on the outer part, beckoning Winter to sit on the floor with his foot. Winter sat, his back pressing against the couch as his eyes scanned the paper.

 

“You always do that?” Agent Rumlow questioned, nodding his head at Winter.

 

Volya looked at him as he tangled his hand in Winter's hair. He observed the younger agent.

 

“Yeah.” He replied.

 

Verfall’s eyes scanned over her own packet- something about a politician and the intervals of time they needed to keep watch. She shut it rather quickly, bored of the information her mind would unintentionally memorize.

 

Winter had discarded his packet, eyes vacant as he stared forwards.

 

Volya turned to Agent Lee.

 

“You bring them?” He questioned.

 

Agent Lee rolled his eyes.

 

“I don’t know why you’re so intent on babying them.” He huffed as he scooted out of the booth, grabbing his backpack and zipping it open.

 

He pulled out two colorful Rubik’s cubes, and Verfall perked up from her seat. There were two. Volya never brought two of them. Agent Lee zipped his bag closed.

 

Volya took one of the Rubik’s cubes and handed it to Winter, who took it with an audible gasp of joy. The other he tossed, and Verfall lurched forwards, catching it and bringing the thing close to her chest.

 

“I’m not babying them,” Volya frowned, “it keeps them calm. You don’t want them to get protective or murderous. You’ll all die, ‘cept for Rumlow of course.”

 

Agent Martinez cleared his throat.

 

“He ain’t wrong, Lee.” He said. “We’re lucky that an accident hasn’t happened already.”

 

“An accident, you say.” Agent Lee mused.

 

Agent Westfahl looked between them, brows furrowed with confusion. Agent Rumlow had a similar look on his face. Why was he the special case?

 

“Wait, wait- why didn’t you include Rumlow?” Agent Westfahl was sitting up again.

 

Volya leaned back into the side of the couch as he untangled a mass of hair that hadn’t been reached by the technicians.

 

“They had an attachment to Joseph Rumlow. No one really knew why the hell that was. The higher-ups thought it’d be a one time thing, but when James Rumlow became Commander they killed a squadron of agents for humiliating him.” Volya nodded his head towards Agent Rumlow, grinning. “They’ve got a need to protect the Rumlows. It runs in your blood I guess.”

 

Agent Rumlow turned his head, eyeing Winter, then Verfall.

 

Verfall looked back at him, and she swallowed unsurely before scooting forwards. Volya raised an eyebrow and she cleared her throat.

 

“Permission for the Weapon to speak?” She asked hesitantly.

 

“And you’re telling me they’re not robots?” Agent Westfahl muttered under his breath.

 

Volya ignored him.

 

“Yes.” He nodded.

 

Her eyes flicked to Agent Rumlow, then back down to her Rubik’s cube.

 

“The Weapon saved Joseph Rumlow from a concentration camp, and took care of him like a little brother. Thus, his following family is important.” She looked down, her grip tightening on the puzzle. “The Asset and The Weapon are obligated to protect Agent Brock Rumlow, under any circumstance, including from the Commander if violence is to arise.”

 

Agent Rumlow stared at her for a long time, before a sharp grin appeared on his face. He opened his mouth, then closed it, biting the inside of his lip as if to shut himself up before he said something too idiotic.

 

She supposed not all of Joseph’s descendants would be nice. She, well, she supposed it didn’t matter either.

 

Volya let loose a long sigh.

 

“Is that a warning?” He raised an eyebrow at her and she flinched.

 

“No, sir. It is- it is- truth, sir. The Weapon cannot lie.” She ducked her head, hands trembling.

 

Volya chuckled softly.

 

“That’s okay. I know Joseph was the kindest handler you ever had.” Volya shrugged. “He was too lenient.”

 

Verfall hit the inside of her mouth to stop herself from defending the deceased man, shifting backwards to sit on the floor besides Agent Rollins’s feet. 

 

She carefully twisted the Rubik’s cube, the objects clicking as the different colored faces turned.

 

Agent Rollins leaned down beside her ear.

 

“We’ll get you out. Somehow.”

 

Verfall froze, eyes shifting between the others.

 

Agent Martinez was talking to Volya who was barely able to contain his laughter. Agent Lee was elbowing Agent Rumlow who rolled his eyes and started to banter with him. Agent Westfahl was fast asleep.

 

And Winter was in a completely different world.

 

“I mean that.” He gently threaded his fingers through her hair.

 

It hit her then.

 

Agent Rollins was a double agent.

 

And we must’ve meant Agent Rumlow.

 

We’ll get you out. Somehow.

 

That had more meanings than one.

 

Chapter 69: Sixty Eight

"There are lines you don’t cross.”

North Dakota, America

January, 2004

VERFALL NOTICED THE SOFT PITTER patter of snow increasing as she and Winter crouched beneath a thicket of bushes and forestry. It was cold- not below zero but right at the edge- and if they were normal people, then they probably would’ve caught hypothermia by now. 

 

Of course, they were anything but. 

 

They’d arrived at a creaky old cabin, one that looked abandoned. Agent Westfahl had started groaning and complaining about how terrible their home would be for the next day- Agent Rumlow told him to shut his trap and Agent Martinez had told him to ‘just wait, the insides hella cozy’. 

 

And it was.

 

Warmth had burst from within as soon as they’d opened the door, and Agent Westfahl actually felt obligated to help his fellow teammates with moving their gear. The pair hadn’t killed about- Volya had immediately sent them to their target’s snowy mansion.

 

That’s how they ended up here, snow piling around them like ice cold pillows. Winter had a mental clock ticking in his head, and he wouldn’t move until their time for surveillance was up. If it was up to her, Verfall would’ve already deemed the mission dangerous to complete. Snow was falling fast, and the trudge back to the cabin would be borderline dangerous. 

 

She wasn’t interested in being buried alive.

 

Verfall didn’t take her eyes off the target’s wife and kids as they sat at the dinner table, waiting for their mother to bring them food. She guessed she was thankful for the little things- there’d be no killing today, at least, not of innocents.

 

A few minutes passed before Verfall realized Winter was shivering. Concern flickered between her eyes because he shouldn’t have been affected by the cold. She placed a hand on his arm, feeling the thin sheet of ice that’d formed from the snow that melted over his skin. Goosebumps had unfurled across his chilling skin- he felt dead. He inhaled sharply at the warmth of her hand, pulling back to stare at her.

 

Her body had been wired to resist temperatures, and the pain that came with it. She’d assumed Winter had experienced something similar, but maybe sitting through drastic temperature changes in a room was too kind. 

 

Maybe they’d only done it once or twice and the technicians had decided he’d be fine.

 

“We’re done.” She said with a tone of finality. “We’re done.”

 

Winter’s lips shook as he tried to frown.

 

She didn’t give him enough time to protest as she army crawled backwards, standing only when she reached the tree behind them. 

 

Winter looked back at the target’s home, then the place she’d disappeared to. He grumbled underneath his breath, something about mission failure and unfair. 

 

He appeared next to her like a ghost and she jerked her head towards the direction they’d come from. If the snow would continue- and it would- their tracks would be covered and they’d be undetectable, as usual.

 

Winter’s shivering didn’t stop, and Verfall wrapped her arm around him, bringing him closer to her side as they trudged along. He didn’t object, instead taking as much warmth from her as he could. 

 

It was a thirty minute trek, and Verfall was starting to grow nervous. She couldn’t help it- Winter was half frozen, yet somehow functional, and she wasn’t sure how long his stable breathing would last. She stared down at the gold bands around her wrists. It would hurt, but she needed to keep him warm- shouldn’t she? But how long would she be able to do that until she herself collapsed?

 

She took a deep breath, ignoring the thoughts as they continued along the path-less forest.

 

By the time they caught sight of the cabin, Winter was limping, and Verfall was half dragging him as ice curled around his hair, hanging onto him like their lives depended on it. The snow was now up to her hips, and it was exhausting to tread forwards. She couldn’t pry the door open, not when snow was piling up to the doorknob. She used her hands to scoop away as much snow as she could. She hesitated, wondering if she should knock.

 

Winter shivered and a choked breath of cold left him.

 

No, she didn’t have time.

 

She grabbed the doorknob and twisted, hearing the metal break inside the lock system as she pushed the door open. She stumbled inside, immediately greeted by heat from the fireplace.

 

Little matryoshka dolls lined the stone jutting out from above it, and they seemed to stare as Verfall advanced towards the coffee table surrounded by the plush cushions.

 

“What-“ Agent Westfahl had a remote in his hand, pointed at the TV as he turned the channel from the news to a random movie.

 

Verfall grabbed the coffee table with one hand, lifting it and placing it behind her. She helped Winter lay on the rug, and immediately started removing his mask as he struggled to breathe.

 

Agent Westfahl stood, stepping towards her. She looked up with a heated glare and he cursed, pulling his hand back like she would somehow bite him.

 

He slowly walked around them, looking to the stairs.

 

“Hey Sokolov!” Agent Westfahl called with uncertainty in his tone.

 

Agent Rumlow stepped downstairs with a towel curled around his shoulders, wet hair spiked in several different directions. Volya was right behind him, yawning sleepily like he’d been interrupted from a nap.

 

Verfall pulled Winter’s hair out of his face, hands moving instinctively to the pillow on the couch-

 

That wasn’t something she was allowed to touch. 

 

Her eyelid twitched as Winter shuddered, teeth clattering. She unclipped her detachable sleeve, pushing the eyelets inwards as she rolled it upwards into a makeshift pillow. She placed it underneath his head and carefully started to remove his frozen uniform.

 

“Weapon.” Volya frowned.

 

She didn’t hear him, instead, pulling off the straight-jacket vest and placing a hand on the tank top beneath- relief filled her veins. It was dry.  

 

She stood to her feet, searching for their survival bag. It was nuzzled into the corner of the living room and she zipped it open. She threw items out of the bag beside her, making a mess as she grabbed the two thin blankets nestled at the bottom. 

 

She moved with a mission on her mind as she placed the blankets over Winter’s body. 

 

The snow would get worse and the mountains weren’t getting any warmer. And that lone wolf could be returning with it’s pack and she didn’t have enough strength to fight them off while keeping Winter warm. She couldn’t use her abilities anymore because she’d used them too much and there wasn’t any food which meant Winter would be hungry and she couldn’t let him starve like that.

 

Then they needed to keep moving because they needed to find a path back up the mountain and hope that Steve would come by and-

 

“Verfall!” 

 

-and there was someone here. 

 

Someone- Dr. Schaffer? 

 

No.

 

She crouched over Winter’s body, leaning over him protectively. She narrowed her eyes at the strangers, drawing her blade from her thigh holster and throwing it as hard as she could.

 

It lodged itself into the wood beside one of there heads.

 

“Shit- holy fuck-“ that was- another agent? Westfahl?

 

There was- a blonde man, his name was Volya? Why did she know that? He was smiling lazily, watching her with an amused look.

 

“Deal with it.” He said to the other two, turning out of the living room.

 

The agent with soaked hair looked at him with a small glare. He sighed, then started towards her. Verfall stiffened as he approached, but there was something- something-

 

He looked familiar.

 

He slowly crouched in front of her, hands open placatingly as he stared at her.

 

“Snap out of it.” He ordered. “Fuckin’ don’t have time for this. You’re stressed ‘bout the Asset, right? We’ll get him warmed up. Just calm your ass down.”

 

Familiar like-

 

Like-

 

Oh.

 

Oh.

 

It was Agent Rumlow.

 

Which meant there were no mountains, no wolves, no loss of food. And no one looking for them. 

 

Verfall slowly leaned back, sitting on the floor. She blanched at the knife still embedded in the wood of the doorframe. She’d thrown a dagger at Volya- at a mission handler and her Commander. She swallowed thickly, shifting onto her knees. Volya was kind, but she’d nearly killed him. There was no kindness in any handler that would let this go.

 

Agent Rumlow seemed to notice the change in her demeanor.

 

“Look, Weapon, I don’t know much about my fuckin’ father cause he dumped me at an orphanage. Clearly, you’ve got some connections to my family. I don’t give two shits if they were nice.” Agent Rumlow sighed. “I grew up an asshole, so don’t expect me to be anything more than an asshole.”

 

He cussed a lot, Verfall noticed, but he didn’t seem particularly angry. He looked exasperated and annoyed. 

 

He reached forwards, placing a surprisingly gentle hand on her shoulder.

 

“Means these meltdowns? Don’t want them to happen again. I’m sure your Commander agrees.” He looked her directly in the eyes and she dropped her gaze.

 

Verfall ducked her chin to her chest, nodding jerkily.

 

He stood, glancing at Agent Westfahl who opened and closed his mouth like a fish. 

 

“Don’t stand there like a statue, Westfahl. Grab a fuckin’ blanket from upstairs.” He said impatiently. 

 

It seemed to snap Agent Westfahl out of his trance, and the young man hurriedly rushed up the stairs.

 

Verfall watched him disappear, before looking down at Winter who was staring at her with a bleary gaze. His left hand was limp by his side, his right hand clinging tightly to her.

 

“‘S cold. ‘S cold. Lucy don’- don’t wanna- Lucy the- the wolves- the wolves are gonna-“ he sputtered.

 

Ver-Lucy leaned down, pressing her head against his forehead. 

 

“I killed them, James.” She assured softly. “They’re gone. We’re okay. I’m gonna keep you warm.”

 

James shivered again, gripping onto her tightly. She heard Agent Westfahl climbing back down the stairs dragging a thick blanket.

 

“Promise?” James whispered.

 

Lucy felt like crying.

 

“Promise.” Her voice cracked. “Go to sleep, James. I’ll be here when you wake.”

 

James blinked tiredly, unsure.

 

“M’kay.” He mumbled, shutting his eyes.

 

She pulled her head back, letting Agent Rumlow and Westfahl lay the blanket over him. She pulled it up to his chest, keeping it snug around him. His trembling slowly dissipated, and Lucy watched him carefully, until his chest started to rise and fall at a rhythmic pace.

 

Lucy ran a hand through her hair, pressing her hand against her forehead and sliding it down her face. She needed to reel herself in, but she had no desire to do so. She was- she couldn’t because James was vulnerable and possibly sick. She stood to her feet, stepped past Agent Westfahl, and pulled her dagger out of the wood, sheathing it against her thigh.

 

Agent Rumlow’s eyes narrowed at the sudden confidence in her shoulders.

 

“They found us in the snow, you know. In the middle of the Alps. Back in ‘45.” She looked up at the ceiling. “My handler found us. He was a voluntary prisoner of the SSR because of me. He- he- well, he was an asshole. A real one.”

 

She turned to Agent Rumlow, who was watching her carefully as he stood to his full height.

 

“Unless you beat me into a bloody mess, you’re just a grumpy guy in my book.” She paused, anxiety bubbling in her throat, but she’d started talking and she couldn’t stop. “He was with a group of Soviets. I don’t know if all of them were HYDRA or if they were just there on orders. They knew we were enhanced, courtesy of fuckin-“

 

She abruptly cut herself off, rubbing her temples.

 

“We had been in the mountains for a week. It was cold and icy, and James couldn’t handle the temperature because he hadn’t been conditioned. He was still James.” She stressed the name. “We were attacked by wolves on the first day- that’s what the, uh, the whole wolves thing was about. . .” 

 

She trailed off, swallowing hard.

 

She was- she’d spoken too much in the goddamn suffocating mask and she needed to go away-

 

“Lucy.” 

 

Her head snapped up at the Commander- Volya.

 

He was grinning now, pleased by the fact Agent Rumlow had managed to calm her down as much as he could.

 

“I see you’ve decided to flaunt your personality-“ his voice had a dangerous tone to it “- after throwing a knife at me.”

 

Guilt exploded across her stomach and she flinched, her hands clasping behind her back. She had forgotten that she had thrown a goddamn knife at her mission handler, which would’ve lodged itself in his head if he hadn’t turned to the side.

 

Volya would’ve been dead because she’d thrown a tantrum.

 

Her legs wobbled for a moment before she dropped to her knees and pressed her forehead against the floor.

 

“The Weapon is sorry.” She whispered, her voice shaking. “The Weapon didn’t mean to- didn’t mean to- didn’t recognize- it was wrong of the Weapon. It was wrong and terrible and-“

 

She stopped when she could hear Volya’s footsteps draw closer. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly as he placed a hand on the nape of her neck, forcing her to look up.

 

Agent Rumlow watched with a small frown. 

 

Agent Westfahl just looked out of place. There were more footsteps as Agent Lee, Martinez and Rollins chose that moment to walk into the room with mugs of warm coffee. The two older agents stopped, then grabbed Agent Westfahl and Rumlow by their shoulders, pulling them out of the room quietly.

 

Volya ignored them.

 

He wasn’t smiling anymore. He was angry- he was really angry. She’d never seen him so angry. He was always patient and content and nice and she’d ruined that.

 

“Give me your blade.” He said, holding his hand out.

 

Verfall ignored the bile climbing her throat because she deserved this.

 

She deserved this.

 

She did.

 

Did she?

 

She unsheathed her blade from her thigh and handed it to him with trembling fingers. He took it, then moved his other hand to hers, flattening it against the floor. He stared directly in the eyes as he hovered the knife above the center of her hand.

 

She shuddered, shoulders drawing inwards jerkily, then dropping, only to rise again. She knew she was panicking but she couldn’t- couldn’t do anything about it. She had to stay still and take it.

 

Volya grabbed her other hand and forced her fingers around the handle of the dagger. He let go, sitting back on the floor. The knife shook like a leaf in her hand, the blade a serrated edge. The tip barely brushed against her skin.

 

He observed her for a moment.

 

“Stab yourself.” He finally ordered.

 

She lifted the blade without question, driving it straight through the center of her palm. She inhaled sharply at the blinding pain racing up her arm. Her hand slipped from the handle, eyes watering automatically. She could never get used to it- of the feeling a blade brought across her skin. It felt like she’d dipped her hand into a vat of boiling water- like she’d willingly put her hand in fire. It was starting to sting as blood started to pool around her hand.

 

She gasped, finding the air stabbed out of her lungs as she tried not to scream or cry. She couldn’t stop the latter, and small whimpers escaped her throat.

 

“Sorry!” She immediately blurted. “Sorry I- the Weapon-“

 

And now she was digging herself a hole. She was messing up too much. She was-

 

A warm hand wrapped around the back of her head and she felt herself getting pulled into Volya’s chest.

 

“Okay, okay, shit. I got mad. I got mad. You almost killed me and I was terrified. I’m sorry. Shit. Shit. Shit.” He sounded panicked as the blood continued to slither across her hand.

 

Verfall wasn’t granted use of her abilities on these types of missions. It wasn’t allowed because Sasha didn’t want her to murder everyone and try to escape- not that she could, with Winter tethered to HYDRA by a million different invisible leashes.

 

And Volya was- was concerned?

 

What.

 

“Okay- okay so-“ he inhaled deeply, “gotta take the blade out, then disinfectant and- okay.”

 

Verfall wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or not, but she pulled the blade out of her hand at his suggestion. It was almost as painful as the stabbing itself, and Volya shrunk back at her sudden movement.

 

“No no no-“ he frantically moved to grab something- a shirt or towel- then paused.

 

Verfall squeezed her eyes shut, breathing quietly as her wound started to heal itself. The blood had stopped, and Volya could see the skin stitching together. It was gruesome, especially with the crimson everywhere, but it was relieving at the same time.

 

“You’re okay. You’re-“ Volya inhaled deeply as he brought her close to his chest “-okay. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that. It was my fault. I- I should-”

 

He drew back then, looking away.

 

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, before standing to his full height.

 

He swallowed thickly as he turned around and stepped up the stairs at a carefully controlled pace, even though it looked as though he wanted to sprint upstairs.

 

Verfall leaned her head back against the wall behind her.

 

She was relieved Winter was still fast asleep, even though she missed the small comforts in his eyes.

 

“Rumlow.” She whispered. 

 

There was no response, and she gazed nervously at the blood staining the floor. She had to clean it.

 

“Rollins?” She spoke louder.

 

There was a sound of footsteps, multiple ones.

 

Agent Lee, Rumlow and Rollins appeared at the doorway. Agent Lee looked her over, before patting the younger agents on the shoulder.

 

“Both of you go help it out. I’ll talk to Volya.” He sighed as he marched up the stairs.

 

Agent Rumlow nodded at him silently.

 

Agent Rollins stepped forwards, and Verfall hunched over herself as he crouched in front of her.

 

“Hey.” His voice was soft- quiet. “Why don’t you get washed up, huh? Take a bath upstairs?”

 

She stared up at him with red-rimmed eyes, glassy with tears.

 

Agent Rollins blinked, before realization crossed his features.

 

“You don’t. . .know how to work a bath, do you?” He asked gently.

 

She ducked her head, looking down at the floor. She shook her head in a silent no. 

 

Agent Rollins bit the inside of his lip. He glanced up at Agent Rumlow who shrugged in response, as if to say it wasn’t his problem.

 

Agent Rollins wrapped a strong but gentle hand around her arm and she let herself be pulled to her feet. He slowly led her down the hall towards a few guest bedrooms as Agent Rumlow grumbled quietly about bloodstains and how hard it was to clean.

 

She held her pained hand to her chest, eyes lowered. 

 

He stopped her in front of a dark room, then flipped the switch. There was a large bathtub all the way at the end of the small room. There was a sink and a toilet to the left of the entrance, a fluffy towel hanging from a metal holder.

 

It was a shower for a person, not a weapon.

 

Agent Rollins led her to the closed-lid toilet, and sat her down.

 

Blood was still covering her hand.

 

“You see this?” Agent Rollins pointed to the faucet hanging in front of the tub. “You turn the knob left for the water to get warmer, then right to let it get colder.”

 

Verfall gazed at the bathtub.

 

It looked like the perfect place to drown someone. Was he going to do that?

 

Agent Rollins was still speaking.

 

“- then you can use this for your hair. But you probably don’t want to smell like Brock, so I’d use this.” He held a bottle towards her, the cap open.

 

She could smell the flowery scent from where she was seated, and she looked up at him with a tilted head of confusion.

 

“It’s my sister’s and she left them in my bag even though I’ve told her multiple times I don’t need to have lavender scented hair.” He went on, only to pause when he caught himself starting to go off topic.

 

Agent Rollins cleared his throat.

 

“You should probably strip before you-“

 

Verfall started to move and Agent Rollins panicked, pushing her back onto the toilet seat.

 

“Woah, hey, hey.” He inhaled deeply. “Either Brock or me will be outside the door. If you need help just knock. I’ll put a new set of clothes on the toilet, alright?”

 

Verfall stared up at him.

 

“Are you a double agent, sir?” She blurted.

 

Agent Rollins blinked, as if he hadn’t expected the question.

 

“No.” He paused. “You know, I’m a killer Verfall, but even I have morals to uphold.”

 

He shook his head, like he could physically shake the thoughts in his head. He grabbed a hold of the doorknob and stepped out of the room.

 

“There’s a line I don’t cross.” He tilted his head back.

 

Verfall lowered her gaze.

 

“You and the- the Asset are that line.”

 

The door clicked shut, and Verfall turned her head to the bathtub. 

 

She believed him.

Chapter 70: Sixty Nine

"Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressor.”

North Dakota, America

January, 2004

BY THE THIRD DAY OF the mission, Agent Martinez finally announced that they were officially snowed into the cabin. They had attempted to open the door, and immediately failed. They could see a sliver of forestry out the first floor windows, but the van was half-way buried, and no one was interested in shoveling away that much snow. So they were more or less stuck. And to top off the STRIKE team’s luck, Winter was unstable- confused- and had to be reminded what the hell they were doing in the middle of a goddamn storm.

 

Verfall knew Winter could become that storm itself. 

 

She hadn’t slept, not that she needed sleep yet. Winter had awoken as Winter, and completely forgot the existence of his prior identity. Verfall had been expecting it, so she wasn’t surprised when he gazed at her with a touch of coldness.

 

Volya hadn’t shown his face to either weapon, and Verfall wondered if he really did feel guilty. None of them ever did- it was always a facade, a manipulation tactic. But Volya’s deliberate avoidance of her was, well, it was an act of guilt. Her handler had no reason to feel guilty for administering punishment when she’d clearly deserved it.

 

She still wasn’t quite over the fact she had almost killed him.

 

Agent Martinez, Agent Lee and Agent Rumlow were circled around a dining table, eating granola bars. The three looked tired as the sun dipped under the horizon.

 

Agent Westfahl clambered down the steps later, still half asleep from his nap as he grabbed whatever coffee was leftover. He drained it without a second thought, running a hand through his hair as he stretched.

 

Agent Rollins was seated on the couch of the living room, flipping through channels boredly. 

 

Verfall was seated on the ground beside him, with Winter to her right. He was wrapped in a blanket- a makeshift burrito that Volya had mandated.

 

It wasn’t like the Commander hadn’t left his room- he did. He just tried his best to stay out of sight of Verfall, which consequently included Winter since they were practically attached by the hip.

 

Agent Rollins paused onto a dog show, and Winter leaned forwards with awe. 

 

Verfall’s eyes scanned the fluffy creatures groomed to perfection, and she found herself leaning forwards too. They watched it for a few minutes, before Agent Rollins got bored of it and turned to the next channel- a blinding green field with two teams tossing a diamond shaped ball.

 

Winter and Verfall deflated at the same time, shoulders drooping.

 

Agent Rollins looked between them.

 

He switched the channel back to the dogs and Winter’s eyes brightened as he leaned forwards again. Verfall mirrored his movements as a particularly ridiculously fashioned poodle sashayed on screen. It had a single purple bow attached to it’s floofy head.

 

A few minutes passed again, and Agent Rollins changed the channel again as Agent Rumlow and Westfahl joined them on the other side of the couch.

 

They were back to the green-field channel again.

 

Winter’s shoulders dropped again, and this time, he turned around to look up at Agent Rollins with the biggest, roundest doe eyes he’d ever seen. They were perfect puppy dog eyes with just the right amount of glistening tears starting to collect near the ends of his eyes.

 

Agent Rollins’s eyelid twitched.

 

After a few seconds he lifted the remote, and turned it back to the dog show.

 

Winter beamed, turning his head back to watch the doggies walk back and forth cutely.

 

“Oh c’mon Jack, seriously?” Agent Rumlow groaned. “Go back to the game.”

 

Agent Westfahl nodded in agreement, crossing his arms like an angry child.

 

“Can’t.” Was Agent Rollins’s short reply. 

 

Agent Rumlow sat up, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Watch.” Agent Rollins said pointedly as he changed the channel.

 

This time, both Verfall and Winter turned their heads back to him at the same time, with those big round eyes and those tearful expressions.

 

Agent Rollins may not have looked like it on the outside, but he was melting.

 

He switched the channel again.

 

The pair brightened, leaning forwards as they put their attention back onto the puppies walking back and forth like models.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Agent Rumlow said, dumbfounded. “Are you being serious?”

 

Agent Rollins nodded stoically.

 

Winter leaned back against the couch, content with the Maltese padding forwards on the blue carpet. Agent Rumlow stood and plopped himself down next to Rollins, grabbing the remote. He pointed it to the TV and changed the channel.

 

Agent Rollins opened his mouth to protest, when Winter let out a tiny whimper. He looked back, lips jutting out as he pouted. Verfall glanced at Agent Rumlow too, only to see him visibly struggling to not change the channel back.

 

He kept his eyes on the TV for a few minutes.

 

Winter hovered his head above the couch, eyes wide and-

 

Agent Rumlow changed the channel and Winter turned back around, intrigued by the dogs walking by. Verfall smiled, leaning her head against Winter’s shoulder at the cheerful dogs sashaying with their owners.

 

“The Asset is like that.” Winter pointed to the screen, where the small dog had been replaced by a larger, intimidating, dog- a Doberman.

 

Verfall hummed.

 

“The Weapon is like that too.” She mumbled.

 

Agent Martinez poked his head out from the kitchen.

 

“Yo, I found pancake mix so I’m makin’ pancakes. Who wants some?” He asked and all three agents raised their hands.

 

Agent Martinez glanced at the TV screen and smiled.

 

“Nice.” He said before disappearing back into the kitchen.

 

Agent Westfahl sat up.

 

“Okay, what is it doing that’s making us watch this stupid crap?” He frowned and Verfall looked at him.

 

She huffed audibly.

 

“Did you just-“ Agent Westfahl started and Agent Rumlow grunted.

 

“Why don’t you try?” Agent Rumlow frowned, holding the remote out to him.

 

Agent Westfahl rolled his eyes.

 

“Fine, I will.” He said. “Just a stupid button.”

 

He switched channels, and the pair shifted. They scooted across the floor, sitting next to Agent Westfahl’s feet like two puppies as they stared up at him with wide saucer eyes, pursing their lips in a similar fashion.

 

“Ah, shit.” He groaned. “It’s too late for this!”

 

He switched it back to the dog show, and the pair scooted back over to Agent Rumlow’s feet, watching contentedly as a huge malamute travelled on screen.

 

A sweet aroma rose in the air, and Verfall couldn’t help but wonder why it seemed so familiar. What were pancakes again?

 

There were a few minutes of peaceful watching, until it was interrupted by a knock against the exit to the living room.

 

Verfall turned her head before her eyes left the TV screen. She blinked, surprised that Volya was leaning against the doorframe. 

 

Then she moved, standing to her feet and padding over to him silently.

 

He looked tired, exhausted, like he managed to turn sixty overnight. To her knowledge, he’d been seventeen when she’d first met him and it was- what year was it?

 

She let the thought slip away.

 

His eyes followed her movements.

 

She hesitantly grasped his hand, then slowly lifted it to her head. She placed it there, and waited. 

 

Volya let out a tearful laugh- a laugh that was more relief than anything else.

 

He ruffled her hair, then gently grabbed her arm, moving his hand towards hers, where a scar and an ugly red blemish marked the stab wound. He breathed deeply.

 

“It won’t happen again.” He lifted his head. “I promise.”

 

Verfall didn’t know if he was lying or not. 

 

Promises were usually broken.

 

He let go of her, then pointed his thumb towards the kitchen as he looked to his team.

 

“Pancakes are ready.” He announced.

 

Agent Westfahl was up like a rocket, launching himself past Volya and practically sprinting to the dining area. Agent Rumlow rolled his eyes and stood as well, sauntering past Volya. The younger agent shot him a look.

 

Verfall caught something flash between Volya’s eyes. Then he smiled and nodded. 

 

Agent Rollins looked to Volya, then back down to Winter, who was practically hugging the younger man’s leg.

 

“Okay, Asset, come on.” Volya ordered gently. “You haven’t had pancakes, right?”

 

Winter furrowed his eyebrows with visible confusion. He got to his feet and walked tentatively to Volya. The pair followed the older man into the dining area, Agent Rollins not far behind.

 

There were several clean plates of hazel colored flatbread? And they smelled sweet but somehow savory. Verfall couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten something solid like pancakes. 

 

They weren’t allowed to, and Volya had never broken the rules before.

 

Winter sat himself on the floor beside Agent Rumlow, and Verfall sat right next to him. Volya handed them two plates, each with one pancake and coated in a light layer of syrup.

 

“You have to eat slowly, Asset, or else this is all going to come right back up.” Volya warned carefully, coming back around with two canteens, filled with purified water. “Take a bite, then drink water and let it settle in your stomach, okay?”

 

Winter nodded eagerly and Verfall cautiously sniffed the food. She knew it wasn’t poisoned, it's just, well, they hadn’t been allowed food in a very long time, and it’d been soup before, washed out soup so they wouldn’t throw up.

 

She took an experimental bite, and was taken aback by the sudden burst of flavor unfurling across her tongue. She chewed slowly, just as Volya had ordered. Her gaze flicked to Winter who poked at the pancake with his fork, stabbing it as he swallowed, eyes sparkling.

 

But he resisted the urge to inhale everything, eating slowly just as he’d been instructed.

 

“It tastes. . .like- tastes like-“ Winter faltered, and Verfall cleared her throat.

 

“Sasha gave the Asset candy. The pancakes taste like candy.” She reminded him, and Winter slowly nodded.

 

Volya frowned.

 

“Sasha- you mean Pierce? He gave you candy?” He asked.

 

Verfall flinched, dropping her head.

 

“The Weapon is not supposed to share what the primary handler says and gives the Asset and the Weapon.” She replied nervously.

 

Volya opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

 

“Okay, then. . .both of you aren’t allowed to tell Pierce about the food given. You are to respond with information relevant to the mission report and nothing else. Understood?” He said firmly.

 

Winter looked up at him.

 

“Affirmative, sir.” He replied, his voice gravelly.

 

Volya smiled.

 

It took the pair seven minutes to finish the single pancake. Winter was determined to keep the deliciousness inside of him- throwing up would only lead to cleaning it up which he needed to avoid. So he drank, and ate, and waited, then repeated the cycle all over again.

 

Verfall stacked their plates, and waited for Volya and the team to finish eating.

 

“Weather’s supposed to clear up tomorrow morning.” Agent Lee said as he took a sip of his coffee. “We should be able to shovel out the snow.”

 

Agent Martinez sighed, throwing his arms behind his back.

 

“Damn. Well, at least we don’t have to.” He grinned.

 

Volya eyed him, then shook his head.

 

“The Asset clearly has a problem with snow, and another accident is the last thing we need.” He paused. “We’re lucky the Weapon was here to calm him.”

 

Agent Westfahl frowned.

 

“So. . .who’s going to shovel it?” He questioned.

 

“Why don’t you do it with the Weapon?” Volya nodded his head towards Verfall who looked up at the mention of her designated name.

 

Agent Westfahl seemed to pale at the thought.

 

Agent Rumlow nudged him in the shoulder.

 

“Don’t be a scared fuckin’ cat, Westfahl. She doesn’t bite.” He snickered.

 

Agent Westfahl huffed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“It threw a goddamned knife at our Commander.” He replied, eyelid twitching.

 

“Accidents happen.” Agent Rollins inquired.

 

Verfall stared at Agent Westfahl as he looked down to her. She gave him a death glare and he shuddered, scooting away from her.

 

“If you’re so brave, why don’t you do it, huh, Rumlow?” Agent Westfahl fired back.

 

Agent Rumlow shrugged, leaning over and patting the top of Verfall’s head. Her glare faded and she hummed contentedly.

 

Agent Rumlow couldn’t help but think of her as a domesticated wild cat- something that had no business being inside of a cabin in the middle of Winter.

 

Agent Westfahl gaped at her.

 

It was playing favorites!

 

“Alright, sure.” He grinned.

 

Volya stood, stretching as he walked around and grabbed the plates and canteens from Verfall, putting them in the sink and turning it on to wash the dishes.

 

“You know, I haven’t seen them sleep yet.” Agent Westfahl blurted. 

 

Agent Lee raised an eyebrow.

 

“They sleep every 150 hours or something.” He informed. “You do not want to be around them when they sleep.”

 

He shuddered.

 

Agent Rollins blinked.

 

“Why?” He questioned, genuinely curious.

 

Agent Martinez looked between them.

 

“They have nightmares- malfunctions- and they prowl around at night like demons, waiting for their next victim. Their cries are like La Llorona- the crying ghost.” Agent Martinez said, leaning forwards as if he was telling a horror story. “One time we went on a mission in Cali, and they crashed, kinda just fainted. We set up camp and I kid you not, I woke up in my tent to the sound of wailing. I fuckin’ thought La Llorona was finally there to take me like my abuela used to warn.”

 

Agent Rumlow took a particularly loud sip of his coffee.

 

“You’re over exaggerating.” He said, rolling his eyes. “They probably just have PTSD.”

 

Volya snorted.

 

“The Asset doesn’t have PTSD.” He said. “But the Weapon does.”

 

Agent Westfahl gulped.

 

Volya turned to look at him.

 

“Don’t worry.” He turned the sink off. “It only ever dreams of it’s first handler, or a time before HYDRA was even created.” 

 

It wasn’t long before the STRIKE team grew too tired of playing the same game of cards. They’d run out of money to bet with anyway, and no one was interested in re-betting the shares they’d one. 

 

They’d dispersed, some sleeping upstairs and others having to share the guest rooms.

 

Verfall and Winter remained in the living room.

 

The lights went out throughout the cabin, lightbulbs at a time. The fluffy blanket that’d kept Winter warm the first day was taken away since he was no longer suffering from a flashback. Now they had their thin ones, and Verfall let Winter take both pieces of fabric. She nuzzled into his side, and he wrapped a gentle hand around her waist as he brought her close into his chest.

 

It took Verfall an hour before she finally let exhaustion take over, her whole body shutting down without her permission.

 

Sleep swept her up into a dream, and she found herself sitting on a tiled bathroom floor. She lifted her fingers to her face to feel her cheeks were wet, soaked with tears. She sniffled, an overwhelming sadness suddenly spreading within her chest. There was a black blanket pulled up to her chest, the fabric balled as she clenched onto it.

 

The door to the bathroom opened and Verfall tried to stop crying, but she couldn’t. She really tried. She really did.

 

It didn’t seem to make the visitor annoyed, instead, she felt a soft hand wipe a tear from beneath her eye, moving to sit beside her. He flattened out the blanket and pulled it snug around her shoulders.

 

“It’s okay.” She knew that voice. “Take a deep breath, Ver.”

 

She shifted, lifting her head to see Dr. Schaffer, his hair pulled into a low bun with stray pieces of hair hanging in front of his eyes.

 

“What is it?” He asked softly.

 

Verfall sniffed.

 

“I don’t wanna do this anymore. I can’t do this.” She whispered. “But James- I can’t leave James. If I leave they’ll make him hunt me and I don’t want him to do that.”

 

Dr. Schaffer tilted his head, his eyes bright.

 

“Ver, what are you made of?” He questioned.

 

She wiped her eyes, looking down at her knees.

 

“Marble.” She whispered. “I am made of marble.”

 

He chuckled.

 

“Yes. You haven’t forgotten that, have you?” He said.

 

Verfall fiddled with her blanket.

 

There was so much confidence in his voice but she wasn’t- she wasn’t strong enough. She wasn’t as strong as James.

 

“Even marble breaks.” She admitted.

 

Dr. Schaffer gazed at her, then gently brushed her hair back with his hand.

 

“Even marble breaks.” He repeated. “That doesn’t mean you can’t glue the pieces back together.”

 

“Can you?” She asked.

 

Something darkened in Dr. Schaffer’s eyes. His grip on her hair tightened for a split second, before he let go.

 

“You are made of marble.” He repeated. “Of marble that does not break unless I desire you too. Do you understand?”

 

Verfall blinked slowly.

 

Had this been a real conversation?

 

She couldn’t remember.

 

It was just a dream, wasn’t it? Everything was a dream. Everything was just a dream, and she couldn’t even find solace in dreams. They all turned dark before she could stop them and now she was here. She was back where it all started- where everything changed.

 

The bathroom molded into towering buildings- apartments and hospitals. Verfall was- no, Lucy was standing in front of a patient, a cheery laugh leaving her lips.

 

She was her, she was laughing. 

 

The patient smiled and nodded along to whatever story Lucy had the patience to share that day as she replaced the lady’s IV drip with a new one.

 

That had been her job. She’d had a job.

 

The tears fell faster and it was impossible to keep the sobs from being silent. She felt an invisible pair of hands grabbing her shoulders and she spun around, gasping for breath as panic rose in her chest.

 

She’d been someone- had flaws and traits that made her human.

 

She’d been a person, and they’d taken it all.

 

Dr. Schaffer had left and he’d let them destroy her- let her rot and she was so fucking angry- 

 

“Hey- hey- no, don’t hit me, Jesus.” The voice was firm, and Verfall found herself freezing. “Wake up.”

 

The images around her started to fade and cloud away. She sat up abruptly as the memory disappeared. 

 

Her head slammed right into someone’s jaw and she heard a faint groan.

 

“Ow.” He sighed, rubbing his face.

 

Verfall’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could make out Agent Rumlow’s face, his hair a matted mess. He looked half asleep, groggy as he massaged the bruise that would form.

 

She turned her head to see Winter sound asleep, fingers twitching ever so often, but looking peaceful. She looked up at Agent Rumlow as he ruffled his hair.

 

“You okay?” He asked, oddly kind.

 

He was too sleepy to be a jerk.

 

“Mmhmm.” She winced.

 

That blazing anger was still balling up in her chest, but Agent Rumlow was- was important.

 

“You gotta go back to sleep, alright?” He said.

 

Verfall slowly laid back down, pressing herself against Winter’s side, who automatically turned and brought his arm around her. She gazed at Agent Rumlow through teary lashes, watching as he started to stand.

 

Her hand shot out, grabbing onto his pant-leg tightly.

 

He nearly jumped out of his skin, looking down at her with a hand over his heart.

 

“Don’ leave.” She mumbled tiredly. “Please?”

 

Agent Rumlow stared at her, those sad eyes, then sighed. 

 

He reluctantly grabbed one of the pillows from the couch, placing it next to her head.

 

“Just this once. Don’t want you to kill us all in our sleep.” He grumbled.

 

He laid on his back, shutting his eyes.

 

Verfall’s hand tightened around his. She sniffled.

 

“I won’t leave, so just-“ he sighed “-go to sleep.”

 

In the morning, Agent Westfahl would stumble into the living room and laugh his ass off, only to get smacked in the head by Agent Rollins.

 

He deserved that.

 

Rumlow had saved all their asses from a brutal death.

Chapter 71: Seventy

"Identities are interchangeable.” 

Washington D.C, America

May, 2010

VERFALL KNEW THERE WERE TIMES Winter was taken out of cryo without her, for one day missions, when there really was no need for her to keep him stable. But there was rarely a time she’d be taken out alone. It was rare, because HYDRA didn’t trust her without some form of warning- some threat hanging over her head to remind her every time she moved, they were watching.

 

But Sasha was arrogant.

 

No primary handler had ever attempted to do such a thing because it was too reckless of a decision, too dangerous for her to be alone and erratic.

 

Not that she was.

 

She just sat there, in her cell, without the cold of Winter’s presence. That was worse. She needed his presence and now he wasn’t here. She would deal with it like she dealt with everything, for however long they wanted her awake. 

 

She brought her knees up to her chest, folding her arms and leaning her chin against them. She stared at a small blemish on the floor, waiting for the cell door to open. She could still feel the chill of cryofreeze in her bones- the sensation of being frozen alive still sitting against her skin. 

 

The locks to the door started clicking open and she lifted her head as the doorknob turned. 

 

Sasha entered.

 

He looked older.

 

He was accompanied by Agent Rumlow and Agent Rollins, who no longer looked as inexperienced as they’d been- how long had it been?

 

Her shoulders loosened and she visibly relaxed, eyes flicking between the three before remaining on Sasha. She didn’t want to risk any chances of upsetting him. He smiled, stepping forwards and crouching to her height.

 

“You have a new mission, Weapon.” He paused, tilting his head. “This one is a little more. . .special. I think you can handle it.”

 

He patted her head and she shut her eyes slowly.

 

“But, this means I’m trusting you, Verfall. If you break this trust, there will be dire consequences.” He slipped his hand underneath her chin, lifting it upwards. “I don’t want to hurt you or the Asset, you understand that, right? As long as you do this mission to the best of your ability, you’ll both be okay.”

 

Verfall swallowed nervously.

 

“Confirmed, Sasha.” She said, her voice grainy like she was speaking through an old recorder.

 

“Good. Agent Rumlow is your Commander now. He will debrief you.” Sasha said as he stood to his full height.

 

Verfall leaned against the wall, using it as a crutch to pull herself to her feet. She shivered and Sasha caught her before she could stumble forwards.

 

“Slowly.” He hummed.

 

She caught her balance and Sasha slowly let go of her. She straightened, stepping towards Agent Rumlow who turned with Agent Rollins. They led her out of the room, into another cell-like area. 

 

It was an off-gold color with hundreds of little cabinets labeled with numbers. Across her were iron bars, reinforced and guarded by two other agents.

 

The Chair was pressed into the corner of the cell, and Verfall flinched. It was off, blank computer screens staring back at her, but it was still unnerving to see. She wondered, morbidly, how many times Winter had been restrained in that seat, losing memories that weren’t essential to HYDRA’s mission.

 

She shuddered as they exited the second cell, walking down a long hallway with several different doors.

 

Agent Rollins opened one of the doors and Verfall ducked her head as they entered. There was a table in the room, with two chairs on either side of it. A closed flat screen device was placed ominously on top of it. 

 

Lines of military grade soviet rifles and pistols were hung across the walls, and Verfall was somehow comforted by the rows of daggers sitting there. She pondered over which one would catch Winter’s gaze.

 

Agent Rumlow sat down, and beckoned her to do the same.

 

She did so, unsure of sitting in an actual chair.

 

She felt something drape over her shoulders and she clutched onto the fabric. It was warm, and cozy, and smelled a lot like lavender?

 

“Jack, are you serious right now?” Agent Rumlow facepalmed.

 

“What?” Agent Rollins crossed his arms defensively over his chest. “She’s cold, Brock.”

 

Agent Rumlow rolled his eyes and Rollins seemed to relax at the motion. 

 

The Commander grabbed the flatscreen device, flipping the case open. He typed in the passcode, then clicked on a file image. He scrolled through a few before holding out a photo of a familiar face. Not quite Howard Stark, and not quite Maria Stark- something in between. She stared at it, for a long time, scrutinizing the man’s face.

 

“This is Anthony Edward Stark, more famously known as Tony Stark.” Agent Rumlow explained. “He possesses something called an Iron Man suit, a weaponized prosthesis of sorts.”

 

Howard Stark’s son.

 

The target? was Howard Stark’s son.

 

The Commander pinched at the screen, pulling up a video. Verfall watched as a red and gold suit flew upwards, alongside a huge, bigger suit, which disappeared into the sky. Agent Rumlow pressed the fast forward button, and Verfall blinked as the silver, clunkier suit dropped onto a building, and the red and gold suit re-appeared.

 

He paused the video, and flicked it off screen.

 

“We suspect he’ll refuse to give them up. That’s where you come into play. Your mission is to infiltrate Stark’s security system by all means necessary. His vast weaponry is fuckin’ crazy and too dangerous for a single man to wield. HYDRA doesn’t trust him, and the government doesn’t either.” He cleared his throat. “You’ll have to go undercover.”

 

A mission of espionage?

 

That was a first. 

 

It must’ve been why Winter wouldn’t be able to do this- he was too well known. Lucy had become an SSR agent that was widely known as intimidating- that was it. She had been a part of the Howling Commandos, but had rarely gone on important missions. She was no Sergeant Barnes or sidekick to Captain America. 

 

He flipped to another page on the screen.

 

There was a photo of her from college. Not black and white but in color, and aged up to meet her current facial structure. Her jaw slacked at the photo that hadn’t really been taken. It looked so real.

 

There was a description besides it, a complete file with her new designation, age, background, even family.

 

“You’ll become Lucia Bastiani-“ he highlighted the name “-and portray an Italian woman who owns a private security detail, undercover as a reporter. Get close to Stark, make him hire you as an assistant, a guard, anything.” 

 

He flipped the flatscreen device closed.

 

He took out a flat USB drive from his pocket, sliding it across the metal table. Verfall caught it before it skidded off the table. 

 

“At this point we’re desperate. HYDRA wants anything they can get their hands on- in-depth family history, close colleagues, blueprints, mental weaknesses. By the time you finish your mission, that drive should be full.” He said firmly. 

 

Verfall nodded in silent understanding, gripping the drive carefully.

 

Agent Rumlow stood.

 

“You have to be a person for this.” His eyes roamed her face. “You think you can do that?”

 

Verfall tilted her head back and forth, before letting a small smile slip onto her face. 

 

“You want me to break the rules without breaking the rules, right?” Her lip twitched upwards into a smirk.

 

Agent Rumlow looked taken aback.

 

“That’s one way to word it.” 

 

Within a few hours she found herself exiting a sleek black BMW 8-Series Gran Coupe. For the first time in decades she was wearing genuine clothes- not the tight fitted uniform that suffocated her with every movement she made. 

 

A ruffled neck-tie silk blouse reached her shoulders, and was tucked beneath tan pleated pants. It was cinched tightly to her waist, accompanied by sleek black boots with strings looped between gold eyelets. She held a microcassette tape recorder in one hand, the other gripping a leather purse pulled over her shoulder. She stuck the rectangular device into her purse as she drew closer to the entrance.

 

Her hair was curled at the ends, bouncing against her shoulders as she stepped up the stairs to the White House. She was supposed to be a respected reporter travelling overseas, which explained her presence in the building, as well as the blatant fact she knew no one.

 

Her lips were stained a dull red, touched up with the modern make up she’d been taught to use. She reminded herself to smile politely at people, and not simply stare. She muttered some good afternoons, and waved, before stepping towards the courtroom. 

 

The guards nodded at her in greeting.

 

Right, HYDRA was everywhere.

 

She opened the door, shutting it silently behind her and finding the nearest seat in the back of the courtroom. The politician Verfall seated herself next to eyed her for a moment, before he turned to the man beside him and chattered away.

 

“Mr. Stark, could we pick up now where we left off?” The Senator behind the judge seat sounded exasperated.

 

The audience was still chattering amongst themselves, and the Senator ran a hand across his face, before grabbing the gavel and slamming it against the table. Verfall watched with curiosity as the target- Stark- remained facing a blonde haired woman, Pepper Potts. He was talking about dinner, of all things.

 

“Mr. Stark, please.” The Senator sighed.

 

By the third or fourth hit of the gavel, Stark finally turned around.

 

“Yes dear?” He grinned.

 

The audience broke into stifled chuckles.

 

Verfall smiled light-heartedly.

 

“Can I have your attention?” He frowned.

 

The audience quieted down and Verfall pulled one leg over the other, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched with sharp eyes.  

 

Stark smirked.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Tony Stark was just like Howard, yet wasn’t at the same time. He had that same charismatic demeanor, that same confidence to him. It didn’t seem completely fake, but wasn’t purely honest either- it was simply the way he expressed himself to the public. She wondered if he was like Howard in that sense, burying every problem he had.

 

“Do you or do you not possess a specialized weapon?” The Senator questioned.

 

Stark leaned into his mic.

 

“I do not.” He replied bluntly.

 

Verfall could almost hear the Senator’s thoughts- yes you do.

 

“You do not?” He clarified, baffled..

 

“I do not.” Stark repeated, then continued- “well, it depends on how you define the word ‘weapon’.”

 

Verfall’s eyes brightened with interest. Weapons could be anything, ranging from literal hand held guns, to words, to people. The word weapon was open to a multitude of meanings, depending on how creative the human mind could get.

 

It was a dangerous thing.

 

“The Iron Man weapon.” The Senator reiterated.

 

Stark stared at him.

 

“My device does not fit that description.” He replied confidently.

 

“W-well how would you describe it?” The Senator practically scoffed.

 

Verfall could see the sheer frustration in the older man. The audacity Stark had was quite a lot, and according to her debrief of the man, he was more narcissistic then she would’ve assumed.

 

“I would describe it by defining it as what it is, Senator.” Stark shot back.

 

She dipped her hand into her purse, rummaging in it quietly.

 

“As?” The Senator raised an eyebrow.

 

“It’s a-“ Stark paused “-a high-tech prosthesis.”

 

The audience let out stifled laughs, unable to stop the smiles from appearing on their faces. Verfall mimicked their motions, chuckling along as she pressed a button on the side of her recorder.

 

It clicked quietly, and she pulled it out. She nestled her hand between her purse and leg, pressing the device in careful, precise taps. The button was silent, just as it had been intended to be.

 

. . . 

S

. . —

U

— . — .

C

— . — .

C

.

E

. . .

S

. . — .

F

. . —

U

. — . .

L

 

She slid her finger across the device as she discreetly pressed it between her leg and purse again.

 

“That’s actually the most apt description I can make of it.” Stark said, turning to the audience with a charismatic smile.

 

“It’s a weapon. It’s a weapon, Mr. Stark.” The Senator sounded even more exasperated than before. “I hate to inform you, Mr. Stark it’s a-“

 

“Please, if your priority was actually the well-being of the American citizen you would-“ Stark interrupted.

 

Verfall couldn’t help but note he had a point. 

 

The Senator was more concerned about the weapons placement, and it’s prowess, rather than the effects it could possibly have on the nation's people. 

 

She wondered if he also made a fair point- the weapon couldn’t be trusted in Stark’s hands.

 

Could it?

 

But if they were his inventions, and Tony Stark was anything like Howard Stark, then he’d treat those suits like his very own babies.

 

“My priority is to get the Iron Man weapon turned over to the people of the United States of America.” The Senator smiled sardonically.

 

Stark let out a sigh.

 

“Well, you can forget it.” He said seriously. “I am Iron Man. The suit and I. Are. One. To turn over the Iron Man suit would be to turn over myself, which is tantamount to indentured servitude or prostitution, depending one what state your in; you can’t have it.”

 

More laughter erupted and Verfall felt amusement rising in her chest. She hesitated in shoving the emotion away.

 

She was supposed to be breaking the rules, wasn’t she?

 

Her red-tinted lips curled into a smile.

 

“Look, I’m no expert-“ the Senator started.

 

Stark through his hands up.

 

“In prostitution? Of course not! You’re a Senator!” He turned to the audience, smacking his hand against the table. “Come on!”

 

His eyes flicked to Potts, who looked unamused by his tactics. He held up his fingers into a peace sign, and more amused chuckled left the audience.

 

Verfall realized the public loved him- so much so it’d be difficult to dispose of him.

 

“I’m no expert in weapons.” The Senator continued and Stark turned back around. “We have somebody here who is an expert on weapons. I’d now like to call Justin Hammer, our current primary weapons contractor.”

 

She resisted the urge to tilt her head as another man stood to his feet. She had to be a person, she scolded herself, not a confused weapon.

 

“Let the record reflect that I observed Mr. Hammer entering the chamber, and I am wondering, if and when any actual expert will also be in attendance.” Stark said, leaning back into his seat.

 

The audience muttered at the comment.

 

A man in a silvery suit, one similar to Sasha’s, laughed with the mic in his hand.

 

It took Verfall a long time, before she realized who he was. She’d only seen him in passing, whilst following Sasha around with Winter, like two protective guard dogs. 

 

He’d been in an office room, looking out the little window, and she’d remembered the horror in his eyes- the pure fear.

 

If he was smart, he’d keep his mouth shut.

 

“Absolutely, I’m no expert. I defer to you, Anthony. You’re the wonder boy.” He smiled, turning to Stark who rolled his eyes.

 

“Senator, if I may.” Justin rose to his feet. “I may well not be an expert, but you know who was the expert? Your dad. Howard Stark.”

 

Verfall knew it struck a nerve by the way Stark shifted in his seat.

 

She couldn’t help the way she stiffened at the mention of him either.

 

“Really a father to us all, and to the military-industrial age.” Justin continued.

 

The man beside Verfall let out a scoff just as she did. Her heart hammered for a second- she’d just let out a real scoff. She couldn’t help it- clearly Justin Hammer was a prick, a jealous asshole who knew nothing about Howard.

 

Justin knew nothing.

 

The man winked at her, nodding his head in agreement to the sound that’d managed to escape her throat.

 

“Let’s just be clear. He was no flower child. He was a lion. We all know why we’re here. In the last six months Anthony Stark has created a sword with untold possibilities. And yet he insists it’s a shield.” Justin eyes roamed across the audience, and Verfall straightened as he caught sight of her.

 

He faltered, almost confused.

 

But he continued.

 

“He asks us to trust him as we cower behind it. I wish I were comforted, Anthony. I really do. I’d love to leave my door unlocked when I leave the house, but this ain’t Canada.” He paused. “You know, we live in a world of grave threats, threats that Mr. Stark will not always be able to foresee. Thank you. God bless Iron Man. God bless America.”

 

He placed his mic back down, and gazed at Verfall for a moment.

 

Her lip tilted upwards into a wicked smirk and the man quickly lowered himself into his seat.

 

She felt her voice recorder thrum against the side of her leg. Her eyes remained on the Senator, the audience silent as the committee clapped. 

 

“That was well said Mr. Hammer.” The Senator grinned. “The committee would now like to invite Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes to the chamber.”

 

. - .

R

.

E

— . — .

C

.

E

. .

I

. . . —

V

.

E

— . .

D

 

She leaned back in her seat, tucking her right arm to her torso, hand splayed out as her left elbow leaned against it, upright. She waved her hand and the recorder slipped from her fingertips, slipping into her bag as she rustled her hair.

 

“Rhodey?” Stark said audibly into the mic, before turning around as the doors to the courtroom opened. “What?”

 

Verfall turned as camera shutters clicked profusely.

 

Stark stood up, walking over to the new man who’d enter, wearing a blue suit with honorable pins tied to them. He grabbed the man‘s hand, muttering into his ear. The man, James Rhodes, was more stoic than not- it seemed like he knew when to be serious. 

 

He and Stark seated themselves once again. 

 

“I have before me a complete report on the Iron Man weapon, compiled by Colonel Rhodes. And, Colonel, for the record, can you please read page 57, paragraph four?” The Senator questioned.

 

Verfall glanced down at the watch on her wrist, reflecting the ceiling lights and accompanied by the gold bracelet that chained her to HYDRA in more ways than one. 

 

She tapped her fingers against her thigh.

 

“You’re requesting that I read specific selections from my report, Senator?” Colonel Rhodes questioned skeptically.

 

“Yes, sir.” The Senator nodded with a smile.

 

The Colonel paused.

 

Verfall couldn’t see the baffled look in his eyes, but she could definitely feel the tension unfurling across his body, annoyed or frustrated- or both.

 

“It was my understanding that I was going to be testifying in a much more comprehensive and detailed manner.”

 

“I understand. A lot of things have changed today. So if you could just read-“

 

“You do understand that reading a single paragraph out of context does not reflect the summary of my final-“

 

“Just read it, Colonel. I do. Thank you.”

 

“Very well.” He breathed deeply. “As he does not operate within any definable branch of government-‘“

 

Colonel Rhodes paused, shaking his head at the next sentence that left his lips.

 

“‘Iron man presents a potential threat to the security of both the nation and to her interests.’” Without skipping a beat he continued- “- I did, however, go on to summarize that the benefits of Iron Man far outweigh the liabilities. And that it would be in our interest-“

 

The Senator started to talk over him.

 

“That’s enough, Colonel.” He said urgently.

 

“-to fold Mr. Stark-“ Colonel Rhodes continued.

 

“That’s enough-“

 

Colonel Rhodes stared the older man dead in the eyes.

 

“-into the existing chain of command, Senator.” 

 

Stark leaned forwards.

 

“I’m not a joiner but I’ll consider Secretary of Defense, if you ask nice.” Stark inquired. “We can amend the hours a little bit.”

 

Verfall let out a laugh, pressing her hand against her stomach as she grinned. The man was just incredibly difficult to dislike. He was too intriguing, an amusing enigma wrapped in the form of a genius. She liked him- his spunk, his persona.

 

But she had a mission to fulfill, didn’t she?

 

“I’d like to go on and show, if I may-“ the Senator started droning on again “-the imagery that’s connected to your report.”

 

Colonel Rhodes pursed his lips.

 

“I believe it is somewhat premature to reveal those images.” He pressed. “To the general public at this time.”

 

“With all due respect, Colonel,” he put a hand to his chest, as if he really did understand the young man, “I understand. And if you could just narrate those for us we’d be very grateful.”

 

Colonel Rhodes silently grimaced, waving his hand at a TV set up in the far corner of the room. 

 

“Let’s have the images.” The Senator had that fake smile on his face again.

 

He was nothing like Volya, who had genuine smiles. They’d always been so genuine, until he’d- she inhaled softly.

 

“Intelligence suggests that the devices seen in these photos,” Colonel Rhodes stared, “are, in fact, attempts at making manned copies of Mr. Stark’s suit. This has been corroborated by our allies and local intelligence on the ground.”

 

Verfall could see the clear images of military bases. Of- HYDRA bases? Confusion flickered between her eyes.

 

Colonel Rhodes continued on, and Verfall noticed Stark was no longer paying attention. He was tapping on a flatscreen device, his phone. He lifted it from beneath the table, pointing it at the TV screen.

 

“Hold on one second, buddy. Let me see something here.” Stark said politely

 

Verfall hadn’t been sure if he had the capacity to be polite.

 

He pinched it, then threw it at the TV. The phone was still in his hand, yet the screen had managed to jump onto the TV.

 

Technology had advanced more than she’d initially thought. But HYDRA had been smart before they’d sent her off to do such an arduous mission. That’s what she’d been doing before entering the courthouse, hence why she was fairly late.

 

“Oh! Boy, I’m good. I commandeered your screens.” Stark announced as the TV screens showed WELCOME MR. STARK.  “I need them. Time for a little transparency.”

 

The audience erupted into confused chatter as Stark continued to hack the screens. Verfall watched as the Senator leaned forwards, tense. 

 

“Now, let’s see what’s really going on.” Stark huffed.

 

“What is he doing?” The Senator frowned.

 

The audience shifted in their seats, and Verfall tilted her head, engrossed in the videos appearing.

 

“If you will direct your attention to said screens. . .I believe that’s North Korea.” 

 

A man started chattering on TV- in Korean- as a giant clunky form of metal stepped out of a large warehouse.

 

It was laughable as the machine fell.

 

It started to fire like a machine gun, rounds of ammo flying in all directions and brutally murdering the soldiers on screen. The video feed cut out after blood exploded across the camera. 

 

The man besides Verfall cringed and she covered her mouth with one hand, feigning horror.

 

“Can you turn that off? Take it off.” The Senator pointed to the wires connected to the TV.

 

Justin Hammer got up immediately, blocking only a corner of the screen as he grabbed at the wires.

 

“Iran.” Stark continued. “No grave immediate threat here.”

 

Verfall plucked a business card from her bag, tucking it into her pocket.

 

Justin was trying to tear the wires now, struggling with the most meager task. The screen flickered and a grainy image of the man appeared on screen, accompanied by another clunky iron suit.

 

“Is that Justin Hammer? How did Hammer get in the game?” Stark faked confusion, then grinned. “Justin, you’re on TV. Focus up.”

 

The man twisted on TV, screaming as his spine completely twisted around. Verfall muttered a half audible ‘oh my god’, trying to not sound overly dramatic.

 

Such a thing was hardly violent enough to flip her stomach over, but she supposed normal people would be disgusted by the video.

 

Justin finally tore the right plug out and the TV shut off.

 

“Yeah, I’d say most countries, five- ten years away. Hammer industries, 20.”

 

“I’d like to point out that test pilot survived.” Justin sounded out of breath and terribly desperate.

 

“I think we’re done is the point that he’s making.” The Senator said, waving his hand. “I-I- don’t think there’s-“

 

“The point is, you’re welcome, I guess.” Stark interrupted, leaning his chin against his hand.

 

There was blatant sass in the movement, and Verfall resisted the urge to laugh.

 

“For what?” The Senator scoffed.

 

Stark waved his hand, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Because I’m your nuclear deterrent! It’s working. We’re safe. America is secure. You want my property? You can’t have it.” He smacked the table, his voice rising in volume. “But I did you a big favor.

 

He stood, turning to the audience, camera shutters going off once again.

 

“I’ve successfully privatized world peace.” He held up both his arms, peace signs forming on each of his hands. 

 

The audience stood to their feet, clapping with enthusiasm, and Verfall shifted her purse onto their shoulder. 

 

“What more do you want?! For now!” He shouted over the incessant clapping. “ I tried to play ball with these ass-clowns.”

 

“Fuck you, Mr. Stark. Fuck you, buddy.” The Senator sneered. “We’re adjourned. We’re adjourned for today.”

 

Verfall bit her lip to stop a laugh as Stark slipped on a pair of sunglasses, holding up his thumbs and kissing the Senator goodbye.

 

She moved to the courtroom exit, avoiding the camera man and pushing the door open. Stark travelled down the aisle, shaking people’s hands as he drew closer to her. He removed his sunglasses as he stared at the camera, before putting them back on and slipping through the court doors.

 

Verfall let the door shut behind him as Stark sauntered down the hall.

 

“Mr. Stark.” She called, heels clicking against the floor as she quickly stepped besides him.

 

He turned to her, raising a curious eyebrow.

 

“Mr. Stark,” she made herself sound breathless, “if you don’t mind, I was wondering if we could set up a time for an interview-“

 

Stark held up his finger, still walking at a quick pace.

 

“You’ve got that spice to you-“ he looked her up and down, “-what are you, Italian?” 

 

Verfall forced a smile on her lips.

 

“Yes. Lucia Bastiani.” She said, holding his hand out. “International reporter and journalist.”

 

He pushed open the White House door with one hand, taking hers in the other.

 

“You already know me.” He said as a sleek white car drove in front of the stairs. “What’s your deal, Mafiosa?”

 

Verfall noted the man was physically fit, his impeccable speed almost tripping her up as she spoke. She had only ten more seconds at most to catch his attention, and so far, he was brushing her off like any other reporter.

 

She shoved her hand into her pocket, putting her business card between her index and middle finger.

 

Lucky for her, she had a plan.

 

“Mr. Stark, I have a proposition that I assure will intrigue you.” She said rapidly. “If you could just listen-“

 

“I’m afraid I’m a bit busy, Miss. Professional.” Stark cut her off.

 

The stout man who’d driven the car stepped out, moving to the passengers seat as Stark moved to take his spot. He shut the door, and put one hand on the wheel. Before he could possibly start driving, Verfall whipped out her business card.

 

She flicked it, bending it gently. 

 

The wind carried it, and Verfall watched with satisfaction as the card landed perfectly into the pocket of his suit.

 

Stark paused, staring down at the little piece of paper now against his chest. He stared up at her and she put a hand on her hips, raising an eyebrow. The simple yet precise movement had caught his attention more than words ever could.

 

Stark tentatively grabbed the sleek black paper, flipping it over to read the gold lettering on the other side. 

 

He opened his mouth, then shut it.

 

“I’ll give you a call, Ms. Bastiani.” He said slowly, tucking the paper into his pocket.

 

Verfall hummed.

 

“Are you just saying that Mr. Stark?” She questioned.

 

Stark’s hand dropped absentmindedly to the business card he’d just read.

 

“Call me Tony.” He replied, before he revived the engine, and disappeared down the road.

 

Verfall eyed the vehicle.

 

Only one word had been etched into the back of the card.

 

Consigliere.

Chapter 72: Seventy One

"It’s the oldest question of all, George. Who can spy on the spies?”

Washington D.C, America

May, 2010

THE FIRST THING SHE NOTICED was that Sasha’s house was unnecessarily big, with too many hallways that weaved in and out of each other like a maze with seldom exits. She felt tiny, overwhelmed by the amount of windows covering the vast area. The hallway near the kitchen, she had realized, was made purely of glass. 

 

Verfall was seated on the floor in front of a large flat screen TV, cross-legged with her purse placed beside her. Sasha’s footsteps were soft against the floor as he padded onto the rug, a cookie in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. 

 

So that’s what the aroma had been- cookies.

 

He leaned back into the couch, taking a sip of his glass of milk. He cleared his throat and Verfall grabbed a remote from the coffee table, turning the TV on. A news reporter appeared on screen, talking about floods and storms.

 

“Mm,” he shook his head, “No.”

 

She turned to the next channel, and waited for him to sound displeased. He simply hummed, and Verfall turned to the next one. A documentary of two roaring lions appeared and she switched channels again. It took a few minutes before Sasha placed a hand on her shoulder, now free from the cookie he’d consumed.

 

“Go back.” He ordered, and Verfall clicked the device.

 

She placed the remote down, and Sasha tangled his hand into her hair, playing with the strands absentmindedly as a chuckle rumbled from his throat.

 

Verfall tilted her head at the screen. She knew the people on screen. Not personally, of course, but she’d seen the exact same episode once, when she was working at the hospital back in the ‘30’s. There had been a TV always blaring the same thing- The Three Stooges.

 

It was black and white, but absent of the statical lines that’d always bounced up and down the screen. She found herself leaning back into the couch, pressing her head against Sasha’s knee as she watched with stifled amusement.

 

“Amusing, isn’t it?” He questioned softly and Verfall nodded.

 

One of the Stooges- what was his name?- smacked his partner with a hammer, and a cartoonish ‘bonk’ sound echoed in the living room. She didn’t have the heart to laugh, but the images were just as amusing as she’d remembered.

 

Sasha shifted, and Verfall looked up curiously. He was smiling, and she blinked.

 

“You didn’t run away today.” He smiled contentedly. “I thought you would. There were so many contingency plans made- so many agents stationed to contain you if necessary.”

 

Verfall swallowed.

 

“But, well,” he chuckled, “you exceeded my expectations.”

 

Something warm settled in Verfall’s chest and she nuzzled her head into his hand. He grinned, before pulling his hand away. 

 

“Do you want a cookie?” He questioned.

 

The warmth in Verfall’s chest dropped into the pit of her stomach, turning cold like a frozen chunk of ice molding into a glacier. Her tongue felt heavy against her teeth, uncertainty brewing in her eyes like a hesitant storm. 

 

If she said yes, or no, she would be punished. A weapon didn’t have wants or desires so she couldn’t say. But if she didn’t answer his question he would get upset, wouldn’t he? Or did he want her to be silent? 

 

What did he want?

 

“Look at you, passing every test today.” He placed his glass of milk on the table, clapping his hands together once, like he’d managed to train a particularly stubborn dog.

 

He stood from the couch and Verfall watched him with a feeling of dread and confusion as he grabbed the cookies still sitting on a thin metal tray. He placed two onto a ceramic plate, followed by a glass of water. He re-approached the couch and he handed both objects to her.

 

Chocolate was oozing out of the top of the cookie, still melted and warm. She held the plate, putting the glass on the ground in front of her. She didn’t dare touch the sugary confection itself, instead keeping her eyes on the TV as she waited for an order.

 

“Eat.” Sasha said after a moment, watching the characters on screen.

 

Verfall tried not to seem too desperate as she grasped one of the cookies in her hand, taking an experimental nibble. It was sweet, but not too sweet, as if Sasha had purposely put less sugar because he was going to give them to her. 

 

She didn’t let herself dwell on the thought as she slowly devoured the cookie, making sure to breathe between bites and taking enough sips of water. By the time she started working on the second cookie, the untraceable phone in her purse started to ring. 

 

Her whole demeanor changed. She stiffened, placing the plate down, and straightening in posture. She dug through her purse, before grabbing the rectangular device inside. She pulled it out, staring at the screen which glowed back at her.

 

ANTHONY EDWARD STARK

ACCEPTABLE CALL

 

She slid her finger across the screen, then hesitated. She glanced up at Sasha, whose eyes were now focused on her. After a second of thought, she put the phone on speaker. 

 

“- then I saw that you’re the Consigliere of the Bastiani family in Italy. You have no background in journalism. So what are you doing here, Ms. Mafiosa?” She could almost see Stark raising a dubious eyebrow.

 

Sasha looked particularly amused by the younger man’s assumptions. Verfall pulled the phone away from her lips for a moment, taking a long deep breath, before falling into character. She rolled her eyes, bringing the phone closer.

 

“Hello to you too, Mr. Stark.” She deadpanned.

 

She heard him groan on the other side.

 

“I said Tony, didn’t I? Geez, get with the program.” He huffed.

 

Verfall massaged her temples.

 

“Right.” She said dryly.

 

“So what’s the deal here? Is the Mafia trying to create an alliance or-“ He trailed off.

 

A small chuckle left her lips and she shook her head as if the inventor could actually see her.

 

“Nice to know you’re a perceptive man, Tony. I’m ex-Consigliere. I defected from the Bastiani family a year ago.” She paused. “Look, I’m a trained bodyguard with a security brand- Otello.”

 

Sasha watched her carefully.

 

“That’s O-T-E-L-L-O?” She could hear his fingers padding against a screen.

 

She nodded absentmindedly, then remembered he couldn’t see her.

 

“Yes, that’s it. I contacted you because-“ she started.

 

“You have a surprisingly low number of clients since. . .” Stark cut her off, and she could hear him tapping away again “. . .it doesn’t specify that you were a goddamn Consigliere to a Mafia boss. Jesus.”

 

Verfall listened to the surprise in his voice, and wondered if he had a single inkling of how the Mafia worked. Not that she did. All the information she’d been given on the groups was provided by HYDRA and loosely from a few books she read back in the 40’s. None were completely reliable.

 

The fact Stark didn’t know either sent relief down her spine. 

 

“Yes, well, that’s not exactly information you flaunt.” She said, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“So, what? You want me to hire you as a bodyguard?” He questioned.

 

He didn’t sound skeptical- just curious.

 

“So that I can have you on my resume, yes.” She agreed.

 

“That sounds. . .ridiculously selfish.” He pointed out.

 

Verfall fiddled with the sleeve of her blouse, tilting her head back and forth.

 

“In retrospect, it does. But I’m rather efficient in what I do, Tony. Not to say I think you can’t defend yourself- I’m sure you can- but I can benefit you in more ways than one.” She scrunched up her face. “Intellectually. God that sounded unnecessarily sexual.”

 

Tony barked a laugh. She let out an audible sigh.

 

“Like an advisor?” He said, once he finally sobered you.

 

“Like an advisor.” She repeated in agreement.

 

He tapped his hands against something solid- a counter?

 

“And what if I say I don’t need one?” He questioned.

 

“Do you?” She replied challengingly.

 

There was a long stretch of silence.

 

“Alright, I’ve decided I like you.” He said, clapping his hands. “And for the record, if Pepper ever asks, that was your interview. I’ll send Happy to pick you up from the DC airport tomorrow- you are still in DC right?”

 

Verfall cleared her throat.

 

“I don’t know where else I would be.” She said dryly.

 

“Good! Great. Anyway, I’ve got things to do and-“ he started rapidly.

 

Verfall let out a small laugh.

 

“Got it, Tony. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said.

 

There was a moment of silence, and Verfall waited patiently for the man to realize he was still on the phone.

 

“Possibly. I’m busy, remember?” He grinned.

 

“Possibly.” She smiled.

 

Her phone let out a small beep, and Verfall pulled the device away from her lips. She dropped her facade immediately, her smile dropping into a flat line, any emotion disappearing from her face as she shut the phone off, letting it fall back into the purse.

 

Sasha observed her for a long time, and she could feel his narrowed eyes. She lowered her head, nervously pressed her forehead against his knee.

 

He finally chuckled, and she let out a breath of relief.

 

“Easy Verfall.” He ran a hand through her hair in a comforting way. “You did good. I know it makes you uneasy, having to act human, but you did good.”

 

Verfall bit the inside of her lip, squeezing her eyes shut. It took everything out of her to ask the older man a simple question.

 

“How-“ her voice cracked “how long?”

 

Sasha stared at her, and she cringed at the silence, the TV still blaring with amused audience laughter.

 

His hand left her hair and slipped underneath her chin, tilting her head upwards.

 

Oh god. 

 

Oh god- she had asked a question he didn’t like. She wasn’t allowed to ask questions he didn’t like, and she’d just done it. Was he upset? She didn’t- wouldn’t make him upset, not after she’d done such a good job with her mission and had saved Winter from a punishment. 

 

Panic crawled around in her chest, like ants trailing back and forth across her skin, discomforting and terribly agitating. Verfall found herself unable to breathe, her vision blurring as her heart thundered within her chest. She could distantly hear the raspy air leaving and entering her, the mumbled apologies barely heard as she struggled such a simple task.

 

She was just digging herself a hole, wasn’t she?

 

She could feel someone shift to the side of her, crouching to her height and rubbing her back in calm, slow circles. The hand was warm, and there was a- another voice. A soft, comforting voice.

 

“It’s okay. I was just estimating the time in my head. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay.” He murmured softly. “I need you to breathe with me, Verfall, can you breathe?”

 

Could she breathe?

 

An order.

 

That was- an order.

 

She forced herself to inhale at a slower, calmer rate. She breathed out through her lips, her chest rising and falling at the same rhythm the hand on her back was moving.

 

“Good. You’re doing so good.” He praised and Verfall’s body instinctively relaxed.

 

With the sudden feeling, she found herself having the ability to breathe, and slowly slumped into the body next to her. She shut her eyes.

 

Oh god, she was breathing.

 

That felt so nice.

 

“That was a bad one, hmm?” He noted. 

 

Verfall’s shoulders were sore from the panic attack, muscles still suffering from the aftermath, hands cold and clammy. Did he want her to respond? She nodded.

 

“‘M sorry.” She mumbled and he gently patted her shoulder.

 

He stood to his feet, petting the top of her head.

 

Relief flooded her in an instant, and she lifted her head, watching as Sasha held the glass of water she’d drained, filling it with more water.

 

“Agent Sokolov and Lee work behind computers now.” He said calmly. “Agent Martinez is paralyzed from the waist down from an IED injury.”

 

Verfall listened attentively as Sasha returned with more water. He seated himself besides her, gently tucking his hand beneath her chin and tipping the cup to her lips. She swallowed, taking long gulps to quench her suddenly parched throat.

 

“There was a sighting of a particular doctor,” he continued, “in New York- impossibly young but recognizable. Doctor Henry Schaffer is still on HYDRA’s terminate list. We aren’t sure where he’s headed, but if you encounter-“

 

It took Verfall a moment to realize what he’d said. When she did, she sputtered, and Sasha pulled the glass of water away as she coughed. Dr. Schaffer was- he was in New York and showed himself? He’d been hiding for so long so why did he-

 

Her heart twisted.

 

Dr. Schaffer. He was- gentle, kind, tender hands- no- no- was dangerous, murderous, angry, always so angry.

 

What.

 

What.

 

She stared up at Sasha with wide eyes. 

 

“He- he’s- he wants something.” She blurted. “He knows how to hide and he showed himself so he wants something and the Weapon don’t- can’t leave because the Asset is important but the doctor will try and take the Weapon and the Weapon can’t do that to the Asset because the Asset needs the Weapon and Handler Sasha is so kind and the best since he never forces the Asset to sit in the chair every time it wakes and doesn’t hit the Weapon when it does something wrong- even though he should because the Weapon keeps messing up, but Herr will- Herr always does- makes it hurt- and-“

 

She was rambling, her words leaving her lips a mile a minute.

 

Sasha gently brushed a piece of hair from her face and she stopped, breathing deeply.

 

“I know. I know. But you’re strong, Verfall. And intelligent beyond what should be capable.” He smiled. “No one can memorize all molecular structures like you have. To retain such information is extraordinary. And I’m here for you too, aren’t I?”

 

“You’ll be safe.”

 

She couldn’t be safe from Dr. Schaffer. The man was a prowling hunter that instilled too much fear- so much so it made her grow numb and incapable of moving. 

 

Oh.

 

And that too- she had conditioning. Conditioning that was still activated and never tweaked. She could not physically harm him. As a handler, she couldn’t harm Sasha either. But when that anger spewed out of her ever so often, she didn’t feel unable to- she could punch Sasha in the face. Sure, it would end in consequences, but she could still do it.

 

That was impossible with Dr. Schaffer.

 

Well, not completely impossible. She’d hit him with her head once. That she remembered vividly- but he’d. . .

 

He’d egged her on.

 

He’d egged her on and she did it because he was asking for it.

 

He was ordering for it.

 

So maybe- maybe she really couldn’t.

 

What did Sasha know? The older man knew close to nothing about Dr. Schaffer, had not been in his space, hadn’t been so intimately close to the terrifying person.

 

But she couldn’t disagree.

 

She nodded wordlessly.

Chapter 73: Seventy Two

"She’s my kind of woman; the kind that would either wake you up and save you from a nightmare, or stab you while you’re asleep.”

Washington D.C, America

May, 2010

VERFALL FOLDED HER BLOUSE WITH care as she placed it on the ground besides her sleeping arrangement: a fluffy blanket with a bundled up towel that acted as her pillow. The blanket itself was her handlers, and she wasn’t even supposed to have it in the first place. Verfall had folded that too, placing it in a perfect square, all set with the towel on top. She’d awoken to a change of clothes placed to the left of her, the sound of rushing water reaching her ears.

 

Sasha had been cleaning a cutting board in the kitchen, and the scent of food had caught her attention. So she’d changed as quickly as possible and was currently tidying up her area, waiting for Sasha to beckon her to him.

 

She was wearing a white sleeveless button up, with a black pair of tactical leggings to go with it. Her phone was pocketed into the little sleeve on the side of her leg, concealing the knife beneath it. Adorning her feet were black combat boots, where two more daggers lay hidden.

 

A sleek leather suitcase lay besides her, filled with necessities Sasha had organized. It would be a long trip she supposed- perhaps two weeks or more.

 

She sat on her knees, her eyes trailing after Sasha as he hummed to himself, plating eggs and bread and- was that another cookie? Her mouth watered.

 

This was nice. It was- it was- listening to Sasha was nice. It gave her nice things and it kept Winter safe and-

 

“Come here.” Sasha said as he pulled back his chair.

 

He sat down and Verfall stood to her feet as he handed her the plate. She lowered herself back to the floor, and listened for Sasha to lift his fork. Once she heard the metal click she picked up her own and ate slowly, taking a few sips of water as she ate.

 

It was always a struggle to know what she could and couldn’t eat- Sasha had given her and Winter many things, and most of the time they threw up. They couldn’t drink milk, or fruit juices- they could only stomach water. Verfall could handle bread; Winter couldn’t. Winter could eat donuts; Verfall couldn’t. Some of it didn’t make much sense, but she supposed it was due to the different medicine they were given.

 

At least that’s what they called it- medicine.

 

“Drive yourself to the airport.” Sasha said, pausing as he chewed. “There are agents stationed in California. You will be watched, Verfall. Always.”

 

Verfall bit down on her piece of bread, gazing up at him as he patted her head.

 

“Don’t forget that.” His voice was still gentle, but she knew it was a warning.

 

That was the difficult thing about Sasha- you could never really tell if he was angry or not.

 

There was some relief swimming in her stomach- she was going to California, which was on the West side of America, far from New York. Not that that did much of anything. 

 

They were still on the same continent.

 

She finished the rest of her food and placed the plate and glass in the sink. She stood across from Sasha who shot her a smile and waved his hand in silent dismissal.

 

She grabbed her suitcase, and stepped down the glass hallway, turning into the hall leading to his array of garages. She heard the front door click open as she pulled open one of the doors.

 

She froze. 

 

No one usually came at this hour. 

 

His maid- Renata, an absolute sweet but oblivious woman- had seen her the other day, and had waved happily with the hand that hadn’t been holding her Swiffer. She’d thought Verfall had been a co-worker of Sasha’s- which, she supposed, made sense. She had been unsure of whether to keep her alive or not, but decided Renata hadn’t done anything harmful.

 

Sasha had agreed with her decision.

 

Verfall focused again.

 

There was a sound of clambering feet, and a woman’s voice scolding the running child.

 

“You’re supposed to surprise, Grampa, Alexis!” She shouted after her.

 

“Grandpa!” She heard the little girl squeal.

 

Verfall ducked into the garage before the woman or the child could catch sight of her, shutting the entrance with complete silence. Her heart hammered in her chest as she leaned her head back against the steel door. 

 

That was- that was Sasha’s daughter, and his granddaughter. It had to be. They hadn’t told him they were coming. A distant part of her knew Sasha’s wouldn’t kill his family, but she had to be sure. She opened the garage fully, the sun pouring into the room. She entered her car and tapped away rapidly on her phone.

 

— . — .

C

. — . .

L

.

E

. —

A

. — .

R

 

She paused, watched the message send, then backed out of the home and closed the garage, driving away as fast and quickly as possible.

 

She felt her phone vibrate against her leg.

 

— — .

G

— — —

O

— — —

O

— . .

D

 

The radio within the car was off. Verfall didn’t dare touch it- didn’t change anything within the car itself, except for the steering wheel, the accelerator and the break. Those, plus the seat and gear were the only things she’d looked at for more than a few seconds. 

 

She remembered when Abraham had played music through the little radio box.

 

Abraham.

 

She squeezed her hands against the wheel, before letting her fingertips relax. She savored the moments she had to herself- she wasn’t going to take this for advantage. Her eyes remained on the road as she sat in serene silence.

 

Something inside of her ached.

 

It took her some time to realize what the feeling was, and she realized it had been longing. Winter was asleep, James wasn’t really James anymore, and she was alone, on a mission, without another weapon to give orders. 

 

She couldn’t recall ever going on a mission alone.

 

They’d always brought the target’s to her- HYDRA was adamant in keeping her in their base. Keeping her trapped. And now she was given so much freedom. So much so it hurt because she knew it was impossible for her to try and leave. Winter was in a cryostasis chamber hidden in a D.C. base, and they would pull him out of his frigid sleep before she could reach him. Escape wasn’t a thought she hung onto; she wouldn’t have made it this far if she did.

 

She hummed to herself, something she’d heard from Yelena. 

 

She vaguely remembered the little girl singing something- something-

 

“Bye, bye Ms. American Pie.” She hummed softly.  “Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.”

 

Her voice threatened to crack and a long sigh left her lips. She wondered if the little girl was still alive- if they’d survived the electricity from the mind wipes. Underneath all that cold Verfall had forced her to build, was a soft, warm girl, who managed to keep herself- to mature beyond her age. 

 

She shook her head.

 

She was going to spiral if she kept thinking about how young the girls were, how terrified they’d looked, how brutally they were broken, how brutally they were brainwashed and hurt and tormented so thoroughly they couldn’t even tell and-

 

And her hands were tightening on the wheel again.

 

She felt her eyes start to lose focus and she slammed her foot on the accelerator. She couldn’t disassociate here- not when she was driving.

 

The car jerked forwards and she mumbled a small apology to whoever was watching her through the bugs in the car. Maybe she was lucky and the agent was dozing off.

 

She reached the airport fairly quickly, with no problems with traffic. She parked near the back of the airport, where a HYDRA agent would have ease picking the vehicle up.

 

She stepped inside, boots clicking against the ground. She approached the entrance, and recognized the stout man she’d seen picking up Stark the other day.

 

He was looking back and forth, squinting as he tried to find her. She lifted a hand, waving tentatively in greeting. A smile slipped onto her face- she fell into role.

 

“Ms. Bastiani, right?” The man said as professionally as possible.

 

He held out a hand.

 

She was supposed to shake it. She grasped his palm, shaking it with a sheepish look.

 

“Hogan. Harold.” He faltered as he gazed at her. “Harold Hogan. I mean- sorry, you uh- I mean-“

 

He shook his head. 

 

Verfall let go of his hand, or well attempted to. He seemed lost in her eyes as he continued to shake her hand.

 

“That’s my name, not yours.” He cleared his throat, cheeks flushing. “You can call me Happy though. Anyway, the plane is all set and waiting- oh, and Tony joined for the ride.”

 

Verfall’s jaw twitched. It was a small, tiny gesture that Happy didn’t notice as he guided her towards a private jet.

 

She knew Stark wouldn’t do such a dangerous thing as hiring a stranger on a whim. He probably tried to trace her device, only to realize he couldn’t. He must’ve looked her up, and found nothing but a few cryptic articles about the Bastiani family- HYDRA forged documents. He’d most-likely hacked into any account pertaining to her, only to find a system constantly rewriting the files- courtesy of Dr. Arnim Zola. 

 

Clearly, it had piqued his curiosity.

 

“- and here we are.” Happy said with a bright smile as he led her towards a staircase, which lowered from the jet.

 

She followed Happy up the stairs, and the door opened as she stepped inside.

 

“Watch your step.” He smiled as she entered the vehicle.

 

The target- no, Stark wasn’t the target the information was- looked up at her from the cushion he was seated on, holding a champagne in one glass.

 

“Ms. Mafiosa! Nice to see you again.” Stark grinned. 

 

She raised an eyebrow.

 

“I’m not sure if it’s good to see you again or not.” She deadpanned as she placed her suitcase next to the chair beside her.

 

Stark laughed.

 

She plopped down into the chair, sitting with her arms loosely by her sides.

 

“You are supremely talented.” Stark said as he sat up, taking a sip of his champagne bottle. “I never say that, by the way- but I mean-“

 

He tapped the tablet in his lap, then somewhat threw the screen on the glass table between them. The table itself turned out to be a screen as her file appeared, the one that was continually being re-written by a living AI.

 

“This? This is insane. How did you come up with this?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

 

Verfall tilted her head, grinning mischievously.

 

She did have a rather small- well, large, although it wasn’t documented- role in creating Dr. Arnim Zola’s current mind holder. If she recalled correctly, Dr. Zola had pulled her out of cryo just to make sure all his calculations were right, and she’d fixed all his mistakes whilst understanding the algorithm.

 

“I configured an AI based on the actual patterns of chemicals within the brain,” she said, which was true, “and replicated it through code that stimulated corresponding reactions.”

 

Stark nodded, tapping his chin in thought.

 

“Damn.” He finally breathed.

 

“Intelligence comes in various different forms.” She winked, waving to herself.

 

Stark raised an eyebrow, draining the rest of his champagne.

 

“I would’ve expected you to be surprised.” He said.

 

The plane started to lift off the ground, but Verfall hardly reacted, instead keeping her gaze focused on Stark. 

 

His arrogance was backed up by intelligence, not one on a definite, visible plane, but one where mind and heart came together to form something nearly incomprehensible. It was something the brightest of minds struggled to achieve, and yet Stark had attained such a thing. 

 

Well, actually, it was possible he didn’t- that there were cracks where he couldn’t hide behind, where his vulnerability bled just enough for her to see.

 

To strike.

 

Verfall grinned.

 

“For trying to hack into a top secret file owned by the Mafia? Sure, like that isn’t a Stark thing to do.” She mused. “I don’t know if you recall, but I was at that court hearing, remember?”

 

Stark leaned back in his chair, placing his glass of champagne on the coffee table. He stood and reached over for another glass.

 

“Right. Did you like my little spiel?” He winked, placing the glass in front of her and pouring an adamant amount of champagne.

 

“It was amusing, I’ll give you that. Gave me quite a good laugh.” She said as she took the glass from his hands.

 

She didn’t tell him how he was outright defying everything HYDRA wanted, and thus putting his life in grave danger. Although, even if she did tell him, she suspected he’d continue to move forward with his stubborn ventures.

 

“Finally, someone who knows proper humor!” He exclaimed, turning to Happy pointedly. 

 

Said man let out a groan of annoyance as he continued to pilot the plane.

 

Stark rolled his eyes good naturedly, then turned back to look at her. 

 

“I know I hired you for security management but you did offer your intellectual abilities sooo. . .“ he tapped the glass screen on the table between them and Verfall leaned forwards, raising an eyebrow. “. . .shall we?”

 

Verfall hummed as a holographic image of an iron suit appeared in front of her- a 3D projection. Verfall had seen similar things with HYDRA’s technology, but, as she moved the image, realized they had nothing close to what Stark had.

 

Something inside of her stirred.

 

If HYDRA obtained the information, the pure genius of Tony Stark they’d have the power to control. . .everything.

 

She let the thought slip away.

 

“The exoskeleton is gold-titanium alloy,” Stark explained as the suit took itself apart, “finished with Titanium Nitride. Every arm is filled with a multitude of firearms-“

 

“-that are all fitted here, with extra casing.” Verfall hummed, taking apart the pieces of metal, somewhat clunky compared to the rest of the rather sophisticated suit. “But you could lose the casing, resulting in a significantly less amount of weight on both the exo and internal skeleton.”

 

She held up the case, flattening out the 3D image.

 

“Of course, it’ll probably make this extremely unsafe, but if you create a double safety lock, use thinned gold. Reduce space, weight, perhaps replace those with more ammo.” She tilted her head up when he didn’t respond.

 

Stark who was staring at her.

 

He wasn’t scrutinizing her, not really, but she felt twitchy- uncomfortable because Stark was like a superior. He was a target. 

 

A target.

 

But he held himself in such a confident way-

 

“I like the way you think.” Stark nodded.

 

Verfall tilted her head, pulling her hand away from the hologram.

 

“Do you do this with all your new hires?” She questioned.

 

Stark leaned back in his chair, waving the hologram away.

 

“Why don’t you tell me your IQ score?” He questioned, hardly answering her inquiry.

 

Verfall hummed, swinging one leg over the other.

 

“Now why would I do that when you already know?” She smirked.

 

Stark watched her for a moment.

 

She could see the serious man beneath everything he portrayed. Just a sliver of it as he thought. Finally, he laughed.

 

“I have a feeling we’re going to get along.” He winked.

 

Verfall took a sip of her champagne.

 

“I have a feeling we will.”

 

If only you knew, she thought futilely, if only.

 

Chapter 74: Seventy Three

"I think, that possibly- it may be possible- that I might, in one life, perhaps, know you.”

Washington D.C, America

May, 2010

VERFALL CONCLUDED THE MISSION consisted of boredom, more specifically, long intervals of boredom, which she failed to escape as she made routine perimeter checks around the Malibu home. The only thing to accompany her were the soft calculated vibrations against the side of her leg. They were simple check-ins, like report, or status. She responded with pending, several times, then responded with pend for the next ten hours. The HYDRA operatives were impressively incessant with their check ins. She was ninety-nine percent sure Sasha wasn’t the one sending out the messages- it was probably Agent Rumlow and she didn’t have the time to discreetly tap onto her phone for a word as long as pending.

 

It’d been four days since they’d touched down in California. She’d witnessed Stark working day and night on one of his many projects, asking for her input whenever he felt stumped and needed an extra mind to push him past the barrier. She’d passed his lab a few times, had seen him pull out a device from his chest, and replace a card inside with another one. She’d almost stopped and stared, but gave him the courtesy of privacy and wandered off to re-check another area of the perimeter.

 

She’d told Stark she’d find a room at a hotel nearby, but he insisted she stay at his home- supposedly she was his home security too. She had been skeptical at first. Maybe he had wanted something more. So she was pleasantly surprised to see he only needed her to exercise her brain ever so often.

 

It was good for her mind, stimulating, and helped her remember things in more detail than she ever could- like dancing with James, for instance.

 

It dawned on her that HYDRA might’ve been drugging her with memory suppressors, but she waved the thought away.

 

Not much she could do about that anyway.

 

Her eyes flitted across the horizon.

 

The sun was slowly dipping beneath the soft ripples of water travelling back and forth across the vast sky. The airy clouds seemed to blossom a blurred red and gold, like a brush gently fanning over it’s canvas, blending the two hues with no genuine direction, no motive. She could see the soft flame reaching out, stretching across the streaming waters, before fading away.

 

It wasn’t perfect, and somehow, that’s what made it perfect. 

 

The sight was incredible, one she usually didn’t have the time to stand and watch. She supposed it made up for the boring hours of the day. 

 

She stayed there, on Stark’s balcony, gazing, with no other purpose than to simply see. There was no target in the sky, nothing that needed to be shot down and brutally murdered.

 

She was looking because she could.

 

“Knock knock.” 

 

Verfall nearly jumped in her skin as Stark knocked on the open door. She was getting sloppy, relaxed.

 

She turned around and raised an eyebrow at the stack of clothes he had in his hand. It was her plain black gym shirt, with a spare pair of leggings.

 

Her eyes flicked over his attire- a thin black dri-fit hoodie 

 

“Happy and I are going to spar, get some energy out.” He moved the clothes towards her. “Pepper threw your clothes in the wash yesterday.”

 

Oh, that too- she’d properly met Ms. Pepper Pots, a strawberry blonde woman who seemed insistent in keeping Stark working and safe. She’d been given the position of CEO of Stark industries, which made Verfall question her importance. Maybe it was better to trail after her instead. 

 

No. She didn’t get to choose who her handl- target’s were.

 

Target.

 

He wasn’t a handler, no matter how many times he provided her with clothes, transportation, food, living space, orders- he wasn’t a handler, and Lucia was just a ruse.

 

She had to remind herself, and it made her uneasy.

 

“Sure.” She smiled lazily, reaching for the clothes and following him inside the room.

 

Stark eyed her for a moment. He pulled the clothes back, and Verfall’s fingers twitched with anxiety. Was he trying to trick her? He hadn’t. . .done that yet. And he shouldn’t since she was an employee so it didn’t make-

 

He mistook her fidgeting fingers as confusion and narrowed his eyes.

 

“Have you slept?” He questioned.

 

Verfall blinked profusely.

 

She knew her eyebags weren’t noticeable since it took her a long time of sleep deprivation to develop those. But she also knew Stark had surveillance set up in every corner of his home, although her room was absent of any bugs- she’d checked. 

 

So how did he-?

 

The perplexion must’ve been noticeable on her face.

 

“The doors.” He said blandly, before continuing. “JARVIS usually alerts me when the doors are opened by strangers. Albeit you’re not a stranger- I put you in the system- but still.”

 

Verfall did a double take.

 

His AI’s name was JARVIS?

 

Howard had a butler didn’t he? What was his name- Edward- Ed- oh, Edwin. Edwin Jarvis had been Howard’s butler. Howard who was dead because Verfall and Winter had brutally murdered-

 

Stark paused, shaking his head.

 

“I wasn’t watching your every move either, I just- well, you haven’t been in that room, like-“ he looked up as he thought. “-ever. So, have you been sleeping?”

 

Verfall inhaled deeply. She dropped her hand to her side and feigned- well, no, she wasn’t feigning guilt at all. She did feel guilty. And it was a biting, debilitating guilt that curled around her stomach like a caterpillar caressing a leaf, eating it bit by bit.

 

But Stark wasn’t a handler.

 

She huffed.

 

“That’s none of your business, Stark.” She said as indifferently as possible.

 

Stark looked taken aback, before he schooled his features and pushed the clothes back into her hands. He didn’t do it roughly or rudely or anything like that. It was a gentle, almost apologetic move.

 

He opened his mouth, then shut it.

 

His gaze softened.

 

“I’ve got problems too.” His lips curled into a small smile. “Yes, I, the great Tony Stark, admit it. If you’re struggling to sleep, or well-“

 

Verfall had never seen Stark stumble over his words in her life. But here he was, trying to be- emotional? The man was never soft. 

 

Maybe he could see something haunted in her eyes. Something she couldn’t hide because it was always there, no matter who she played, who she became.

 

“Uh- well, anything, come by the lab. At least you won’t be alone, you know?” 

 

Her grip tightened on the clothes and she let her shoulders relax, dropping in a calm posture. Her smile grew soft, and she nodded to him.

 

He wasn’t ordering her to sleep, or making sure she did. It was relieving, because she wasn’t allowed to sleep until 120 hours had passed, and it’d conflict with her programming. She had to follow that programming, no matter how much her mind wistfully thought of Stark as a handler.

 

Jesus, her brain was practically split in two.

 

“Thanks. I’ll take you up on that.” She said, finding it difficult to not feel genuinely grateful.

 

She was on a mission, she silently reminded herself. A mission.

 

But why was Stark so- so- kind. So human, so empathetic and genuine and- it had been a week and her heart was already wavering.

 

“Come in,” Stark pursed his lips, “it’s gettin’ cold out there.”

 

Verfall’s face twisted into a genuine scowl.

 

“We’re in the middle of California, Tony.” She pressed, her voice laced with amusement as she followed after him, door shutting. “It doesn’t get cold.”

 

Stark waved his hand, as if to dismiss the subject. He started towards the hallway leading to the boxing ring and Verfall rolled her eyes as he flipped her off without looking back.

 

The small tender moment Stark had cared to share was gone now, replaced by the uncanny charismatic man he was. Verfall tilted her head as she watched his receding figure. Then she turned to the nearest bathroom and stripped, pulling on her new set of clothing. 

 

The gold around her neck flashed in the mirror. Would Stark question the fact she was wearing jewelry during a workout? Maybe he wouldn’t today- he’d already done some prying.

 

She exited the bathroom and stepped down the hallway, reaching the open boxing ring. Happy looked up at her when she entered, shooting her a smile. She paused in her footsteps and Stark turned. 

 

She held up her hand, then waved once with her middle finger.

 

“Okay, that was just petty.” Stark huffed, though his lips were split into a wide grin.

 

Verfall winked and lowered her hand, placing them on her hips instead.

 

She approached the boxing ring, and watched as Happy finished putting on his protective gear- head gear. That was- she resisted the urge to laugh. It was one absent of amusement, something more hysterical or delirious. He was wearing headgear, when Verfall had been brutally beaten by Dr. Schaffer because she’d once brought it up to him, when a HYDRA agent had been swaying on his feet. The poor agent had fainted afterward.

 

So headgear?

 

That wasn’t in HYDRA’s book, and it never would be. 

 

You were either brutally beaten, or brutally beating.

 

Stark slipped under the rope, shuffling back and forth on his feet as he held his arms up, hands protected by boxing gloves. They were sparring for the fun of it, not for the skill of it. Just to let off some steam. Verfall momentarily wondered if she’d ever done that before. 

 

Fighting to let off some steam. 

 

She’d always let Winter do that. He’d get angry, frustrated, confused, and sometimes they got into quarrels. He’d throw a punch, and Verfall would entertain him. She’d let him fight profusely, until both of them were exhausted or one had managed to finally get the upper hand. If she was lucky, Winter remembered she was his, and injuring her wasn't permitted. 

 

But she’d never indulged in the activity with the intention to also ‘let off some steam’. 

 

Her eyes tracked Stark’s movements, analyzing his posture- one that somewhat resembled mixed martial arts. Her mind sparked: Stark was a fighter, a man who could hold himself accountable in physical combat. 

 

He wasn’t a soldier by any means, he didn’t have that discipline- that background in the military.

 

But he was something.

 

“Don’t get your ass whooped!” Verfall shouted cheerfully.

 

“I won’t-“ he huffed, cutting himself off as Happy punched him with his flat padded gloves.

 

Verfall grinned brightly as Stark bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, hands raised as he punched at Happy with supreme focus. She ignored the guilt in her gut- it was still there- as she noted the camera’s in the area. They were all in her peripheral vision, little lights blinking, only visible to the trained eye.

 

This wasn’t a place she could pass without looking suspicious. But Stark’s office, well, his office was practically his lab. And if he-

 

His lab.

 

He’d offered her to go to his lab and she could do that with ease.

 

But that was useless unless Stark left the lab with her alone in it- even then, she wouldn’t be able to obtain any information from his computers when the AI in his system was always watching. 

 

Was always there.

 

She’d have to find a way to remove JARVIS from Stark’s computer system, which she could, hypothetically speaking, do. It would just take her at least an hour, and in that time Stark would know his AI was being hacked. 

 

He was a genius, for god's sake. He probably put dozens of failsafes.

 

Stark got a good punch in and Verfall whistled, letting him know she was still attentive with a guessed desired response. She’d guessed right, as Stark shook his head, rolling his eyes. 

 

The pair went at it for some time, at least ten minutes, before Stark pulled back, wiping sweat off his brow. Happy was panting, leaning against the corner of the boxing ring and heaving deep breaths. Stark started to glance back and forth, searching for something that’d rolled off the mat and several feet away from him.

 

Verfall sighed, and grabbed Stark’s water bottle, stepping beside the elevated mat and holding it out to him.

 

The moment she did, something in Stark shifted. 

 

It was such a tiny, tiny movement that she wouldn’t have noticed it if she wasn’t enhanced. His eyes flicked just to the left of the water bottle, before returning on the object itself. It didn’t even look like his eyes had moved at all. 

 

But they had, and Verfall trusted what she saw.

 

He was uncomfortable with the fact she was handing him something, which was rather odd. It reminded her of a trauma induced response. 

 

She’d done the same thing with Peggy. 

 

When they were still rooming together in that wonderful house of hers, Peggy had handed her a kitchen knife to teach her knives weren’t always weapons- to desensitize her. But Verfall could never really keep her eyes on the knife at first, her eyes fidgeting away, then returning back to it. She wasn’t scared of the knife, she was anxious because she didn’t know what response was required of her- didn't know if the knife was going to be used to hurt. 

 

Her debrief file, the only app on her phone, had explicitly stated Stark’s kidnapping in Afghanistan. She’d skipped over the information. There was no importance to it, because she didn’t remember if that was a normal occurrence or not.

 

She rolled the bottle onto the mat and Stark’s eyes sparkled for a moment.

 

He snapped back to himself, taking the bottle and taking a long sip.

 

“Alright, Happy, get out. Let me spar with the big one.” He announced, placing the bottle back onto the floor.

 

The young man groaned in response, practically rolling off the mat and moving to stand beside the boxing ring.

 

Verfall raised a hand, elbow bent.

 

“I’m the big one, I assume?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Yes, Ms. Mafiosa. ‘Course you are.” He smirked, shooting her one of his iconic winks.

 

She rolled her eyes at his antics, pushing the rope around the boxing mat upwards and slipping inside the combat zone.

 

Stark lost the boxing gloves, dropping them onto Happy who caught them with a ‘really?’ leaving his lips. He bounced on his feet, holding his hands up in a similar stance, exhaling a long breath.

 

“You need to stretch?” He inquired.

 

Verfall placed her hands on her hips.

 

“You hardly have time to stretch in a real fight, Tony.” She paused. “The Mafia isn’t patient.”

 

Stark raised an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to retort when she darted forwards and threw a loose, purposely sloppy punch. It hurt her inside, to lose all perfection she held herself with- to fight and remain friendly. She struggled more than she liked to admit as Stark dodged quickly.

 

“Give me a warning!” He groaned, though his eyes flickered with amusement.

 

Verfall rolled her eyes and blocked a punch from her face. Stark seemed surprised by her instinctive reflexes. She shot him a wink and punched him in the abdomen. He blocked the hit with his forearm, and narrowly dodged the fist gliding past his face.

 

She adjusted to this fighting style- she’d gone with a more mixed martial arts approach, but Stark wasn’t using any of his legs, so she supposed she shouldn’t either. And she was supposed to have a handicap when sparring with her handlers, otherwise she’d accidentally exhaust them, and they didn’t like that.

 

But the Handler had no knife on him and he hadn’t instructed her to do anything less, so she moved slower. Perhaps that was what he wanted. 

 

Maybe this handler was different, and didn’t say as many verbal orders.

 

Her fist collided with Stark’s shoulder and he jabbed forwards at her jaw. She drew back sharply before the attack could land, and the Handler grinned. 

 

Was that bad?

 

Was it good?

 

She didn’t have enough time to think as they continued to spar. She tried to fight at the same level as the Handler, and it seemed to keep him content.

 

That was good, the Handler should always be happy.

 

The Handler ended the sparring match ten minutes later. He was drenched in sweat, more so than before, and Verfall rolled his water bottle to him.

 

He grasped it, muttered a thanks, then took a long sip.

 

She tilted her head, staring at him like he’d grown another head. The Handler had- thanked her? 

 

What.

 

“You alright?” The Handler questioned as he pinched the front of his hoodie, shaking it to get some air flowing between the fabric and his undershirt.

 

Verfall blinked.

 

The Handler had asked a weird question and saying such weird-

 

Her mission objective rammed into the front of her mind and she stopped herself from inhaling sharply.

 

“Sorry.” She said sheepishly, running her hand over her face. “I- um-“

 

“You need sleep.” Stark said pointedly. “That’s what you need. Yup, sleep.”

 

He reiterated his point, and Verfall rubbed her eyes with a small sigh.

 

“I’m fine, Tony. Seriously.” She replied and Stark raised an incredulous eyebrow.

 

“Alright, alright, well, get off.” He said, waving her off the mat. “Happy, come on, you’re back in the ring!”

 

Verfall shot him a small smile, one of gratitude, even if he didn’t know it wasn’t because he was letting her rest.

 

She removed herself from the mat as Happy clambered back onto his feet, putting the headgear over his face again. She crossed her arms over her chest as she watched the pair spar.

 

The sound of footsteps echoed to the right of her and she tilted her head as Pepper came into view.

 

She looked as prestigious as always, with her straightened hair bouncing against her shoulders, a clipboard in her hand. There was a certain air to her- wherever she went, the atmosphere shifted to make room for her confidence, her impenetrable demeanor.

 

She was a respectable woman.

 

Verfall had presumed that when they first met.

 

“The notary’s here!” She announced over the sound of gloves hitting gloves. “Can you please come sign the transfer paperwork?”

 

Verfall watched as Stark continued to spar with Happy.

 

“I’m on happy time.” Stark huffed as he threw a left hook to Happy’s side.

 

Pepper seemed to register Verfall was standing their and she smiled politely, giving her a little wave.

 

“Good afternoon Ms. Bastiani.” She greeted. “I hope Tony hasn’t bothered you too much.”

 

A small laugh escaped her lips.

 

“Nothing I haven’t done before, Ms. Potts.” She said, returning her smile with a polite nod.

 

Happy let out a pained groan and Verfall whirled around to see Stark retracting his elbow. He stumbled backwards, rearranging his head gear.

 

“Sorry.” Stark managed to sound somewhat apologetic.

 

“What the hell was that?” Happy exclaimed.

 

“It’s called mixed martial arts.” Stark replied with a shrug. “It’s been around for three weeks.”

 

Verfall shook her head at the older man’s antics, watching with amusement.

 

“It’s called dirty boxing. There’s nothing new about it.” Happy retorted.

 

At the tone of his voice, Verfall felt like something was crawling across her skin, like a fly that managed to burrow itself under her skin and flutter between her flesh and bones. Happy didn’t sound overly threatening, but there was some threat to his voice, and Stark was-

 

Stark was-

 

She didn’t know. He was a handler, but he wasn’t. He was a target, but he wasn’t. Her mind was warping, shifting- malfunctioning. She had never malfunctioned before, not since James was conditioned to be Winter. Sure, she’d killed agents besides Winter, accompanying him on failed escape attempts. But she’d done that out of her own will- because she desired it, even though she wasn’t supposed to.

 

This?

 

Well, she didn’t choose Stark as her handler, her brain just- it just-

 

And Happy was threatening him.

 

That feeling was still under her skin and she realized it was the sudden itch to protect Stark.

 

“Alright boys, break it up.” Verfall said lightheartedly as she stepped forwards, tapping Happy’s shoulder with the back of her hand.

 

Be polite, but threatening. 

 

Protect the handler.

 

Always protect the- Stark.

 

Her discomfort disappeared.

 

Happy rolled his eyes, but stopped midway when his gaze fixated on something behind Stark, behind Verfall. She hadn’t heard anyone moving in the hallways, hadn’t felt a single difference in the air. 

 

She swiveled on her heel, turning to see the newcomer, only to be blinded by fiery red hair, curled into tight coils. They barely moved, her every step just as silent as the grace emanating from her warm figure. Her eyes were a deep, rich green- so bright, alive, elusive. 

 

But that warmth- the warmth that her body should’ve possessed- was drained by the coldness in her eyes. Verfall knew that dull shine that never went away. She saw it whenever a reflective surface was near her, after all, she had those exact eyes as well.

 

The redhead was a woman of business, a woman who held herself with respect. 

 

A woman who moved with precision, a woman who carried the silence of a killer.

 

Their eyes met.

 

Something clicked.

 

Verfall knew her.

 

Her deep green eyes stared inquisitively at her, analyzing Verfall’s every move, her posture, her breathing, with a polite smile. 

 

Verfall returned the polite gaze, her expression relaxed and placating as she examined the woman from top to bottom. A blade was hidden in her shoes, sheathed and placed on the inner side of them. 

 

She was holding a folder.

 

Why was she armed, when she was only a notary?

 

There was something about- something about her shoulders- something-

 

“I promise you this is the only time I will ask you to sign over your company.” Pepper called, breaking the silence between the pair- and the silence between Tony and Happy.

 

Verfall let her eyes lift off the woman.

 

“I need you to initial each box.”

 

She froze.

 

She knew that voice.

 

She- she knew that voice.

 

Natalia. Natashenka.

 

Verfall swallowed thickly, her eyes flicking back to Natalia for a mere second. She was- she looked good, all things considered. She didn’t look stressed, or oppressed, but so did Verfall. Maybe Natalia was still working with the Red Room. Maybe she wasn’t.

 

Happy suddenly let out a pained shout as Stark kicked him hard in the chest. Happy slammed against the corner of the boxing ring as Stark rang the bell at its side.

 

“What’s your name lady?” Stark said, pointing at Natalia with his water bottle in his hand.

 

“Rushman. Natalie Rushman.” She answered without skipping a beat.

 

Natalia. Natalia Romanova.

 

“Front and center. Come into the church.” Stark waved his bottle.

 

Pepper breathed deeply.

 

“No, you’re seriously not gonna ask-“ she started.

 

“If it pleases the court, which it does.” Stark interrupted.

 

Verfall’s eyes flicked between Stark and Pepper, observing them as Natalia seemed to think to herself. She shrugged, half- nodding.

 

“It’s no problem.” Natalia smiled, always polite.

 

She’d been polite before, when they’d been conditioning her in the Red Room, but that had been- that had been a different face. It didn’t seem like Natalia was playing the role of a Black Widow. 

 

At least, Verfall liked to think so.

 

“I’m sorry.” Pepper looked genuinely apologetic. “He’s very eccentric.”

 

Stark held up the barrier of the boxing ring.

 

Natalia walked towards her and Stark held up a hand. She stopped in her tracks, a few feet away from Verfall.

 

“Ms. Utterly Professional, meet Ms. Rushman.” Stark spoke almost theatrically, and Verfall’s eyelid twitched.

 

Her heart clenched in her chest as she held her hand out. Natalia’s eyes dropped to her hand and she grasped onto it.

 

“Sorry, Tony is-“ she shook her head.

 

Natalia nodded in understanding, her gaze darting across the golden bracelet circling her wrist. Recognition flashed between Natalia’s eyes, but Verfall immediately assumed she’d imagined it. Her mind was desperate for Natalia to remember her, but she’d been mind wiped as a child and that, well, that had to permanently damage some part of her brain.

 

“I’m assuming your name isn’t Utterly Professional?” She said conversationally as there hands parted.

 

Verfall chuckled.

 

“Yeah, no. My name is Lucia Bastiani. I’m Stark’s security and advisor at the moment.” She introduced.

 

“It’s good to meet you.” Natalia said.

 

The politeness in her voice felt so practiced.

 

“Likewise.” 

 

Natalia stepped past her and ducked into the boxing ring, gazing at Stark with a relentless gaze. He took a long sip off his water bottle, staring. It felt awkward to witness there intent look.

 

“What?” He said, then turned to Happy. “Can you give her a lesson?”

 

Stark climbed off the mat as Happy shrugged, stepping forwards.

 

“No problem.” He smiled.

 

Verfall turned to watch the pair spar as Stark padded over towards Pepper, plopping down on the couch next to her, besides his digital table. She faintly listened in to their conversation- something about a sexual harassment law suit, ogling, and already having an assistant? 

 

She decided she’d piece that together later.

 

Happy beckoned Natalia onto the center of the mat.

 

“You ever boxed before?” Happy questioned.

 

“I have, yes.” Natalia looked amused.

 

Natalia looked- she looked.

 

She had an expression that was real. Verfall knew that shine in her eyes, those bright flashes of intelligence bleeding through her gaze. It was only there when Winter had praised her for being his best student, for being a great candidate. It was there when Verfall had called Natalia a Warrior.

 

“What, like, the tale Bo? Booty Boot Camp? Crunch? Something like that?” Happy sounded condescending.

 

Natalia’s smile didn’t falter as she nodded. In fact, she seemed to be stifling a laugh. She played it off by clearing her throat.

 

“How do I spell your name, Natalie?” Stark yelled from his position on the little couch.

 

“R-U-S-H-M-A-N.” She replied instantly, turning her head to gaze at him.

 

Verfall’s eyes shifted to the table besides him as it lit up, his fingers tapping quickly over the screen. She could see everything with her enhanced eyes, but Natalia. . .She caught some of Stark’s words- she spoke, French, Italian, Latin, Russian- that sounded like the Romanova she remembered.

 

“Rule number one, never take your eye off your opponent.”

 

Happy moved his gloved fist towards her. 

 

She moved in the blink of an eye, grabbing his wrist, and using it to balance as she kicked her feet up, wrapping them around Happy’s neck and slamming both of them into the ground, sitting to the side of him.

 

“Oh my God!” Pepper exclaimed, standing to her feet.

 

“Whoa!” Stark grinned.

 

Natalia kept her legs locked around Happy, her hand gripping tightly to his arm. Verfall felt a burst of pride bubble in her stomach- for Winter, and for tackling Happy’s perception of her, crumbling it all to remind him how terribly strong a woman could be.

 

Happy tapped her leg, and she uncrossed her legs, jumping onto her feet as Happy rolled.

 

“Happy!” Pepper voiced her concern as Natalia adjusted her clothes.

 

“That’s what I’m talking about- can you do that Lucia?” Tony questioned, waving his hand between the two.

 

Verfall blinked profusely. She pursed her lips into a pout.

 

“You underestimate me, Tony.” She placed a hand over her heart. “I’m wounded.”

 

He raised a curious eyebrow.

 

“I slipped.” Happy suddenly proclaimed.

 

Stark’s attention moved to his poor friend.

 

“You did?” He questioned.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

Stark grinned, shaking his head.

 

“Looks like a TKO to me.” He replied.

 

Verfall could feel the wounded pride, even though her pride was carefully guarded. She felt an inkling of guilt for Happy, which was quickly replaced by karma. He deserved that, after bashing a woman’s skills.

 

Natalia exited the boxing ring as Stark rang the bell.

 

“Just. . .I need your impression.” She said, grabbing her folder with one hand, keeping her eyes on Stark.

 

“You have a quiet reserve. I don’t know, you have an old soul.” He muttered.

 

“I meant your fingerprint.” Natalia almost deadpanned.

 

She flipped the folder open.

 

“So, how are we doing?” Pepper smiled as she approached the pair.

 

Verfall kept an eye on Natalia’s hands. She wasn’t reaching for any hidden knife in her sleeve, no weapon. She was simply just. . .there.

 

“Great. Just wrapping up.” Stark pressed his thumb against the folder. “Hey. You’re the boss.”

 

Pepper practically beamed.

 

“Will that be all, Mr. Stark?” Natalia inquired.

 

Stark opened his mouth to say no, but Pepper cut him off.

 

“Yes, that will be all Ms. Rushman, thank you very much.”

 

Natalia started to walk away, her heels clacking. 

 

Verfall’s breath stuttered in her throat. Don’t go, she wanted to say, you know me. You know me so don’t go. 

 

She suddenly paused, her shoulders rising then falling as she took a deep breath. She spun around and Stark’s eyes tracked her as she approached Verfall, who hadn’t voiced her thoughts.

 

She played her rose, raising a curious eyebrow as she gazed down at the redhead.

 

“Do I know you? I feel like I do.” She said, sounding out of character.

 

Verfall furrowed her eyebrows.

 

“I feel like I do too.” She agreed. “Can’t really pinpoint it though.”

 

Natalia stared at her for a few seconds, and she stared back. She let out a soft ‘hmm’, shrugged, then turned, and disappeared down the hall she’d come from.

 

Verfall watched her receding figure. Her shoulders slumped.

 

It didn’t matter if Natalia had remembered her or not.

 

She was alive.

 

She was still alive.

 

Chapter 75: Seventy Four

"Sometimes the loudest cries for help are silent.”

California, America

May, 2010

SHE WAS EXPECTING SOMETHING FROM someone, but she didn’t quite know who. She didn’t know what she desired, or what would be given. But she knew someone was supposed to visit the hospital today. She wondered how she knew that. Her brows furrowed as she turned the page to her book, grabbing for a biscuit without looking. She was sitting behind a front desk, waiting for the next patient to come rolling inside of the building. 

 

But the streets were- well, empty. 

 

She didn’t seem to realize it, even as the sound of cars slowly dissipated, replaced only by the clicking of shoes, a gut-wrenching sound which she ignored. It was a familiar sound, as she possessed feet and also walked with the click clacking of shoes.

 

Why would footsteps be gut-wrenching anyway?

 

She turned the page, leaflet twisting against her fingertips before she read the last few words and turned. That’s when the clicking stopped, and she lifted her head, shutting her book with a polite smile.

 

The visitor held a cigarette between his fingers, tilting his head with an observant gaze. She didn’t recognize him, not really- his face was blurry.

 

Oddly enough, cigarette wasn’t lit. No, it was just hanging there.

 

“Do you have a light?” 

 

His voice- it was-

 

She felt something tingle in her brain, like she should recognize the sound. But she didn’t. 

 

She vaguely realized he was waiting for a response and she stood, shooting him a smile. Her hand moved to reach for a light- or at least she thought it was. Instead, she waved her fingertips and a ghost of white energy flickered across her fingertips.

 

The cigarette burst to life and the visitor grinned.

 

“You did good. Such a good Soldier.” He chuckled as he inhaled, a long breath.

 

Lucy stared at the man, brows furrowing.

 

“Who-“

 

She stopped, the scent of tobacco hitting her with so much force, so much vividness. She swallowed thickly, taking a step back from the desk. Her grip tightened around her book, knuckles turning white. The biscuit she’d eaten threatened to climb up her stomach and to her throat.

 

His face wasn’t blurry anymore. 

 

She could see his- his dark brown eyes, his lips, the swoop of his nose. She forced herself to remain still, even as a tremor threatened to shake her body. 

 

Dr. Schaffer smiled.

 

“You couldn’t possibly forget me, could you?” He tilted his head, that infuriating tilt he always did.

 

Verfall felt her chest constrict- she had half a second to register the feeling. 

 

Dr. Schaffer had suddenly moved. He’d slid over the desk, the desk which was now empty of any notes or pencils that’d been there prior. Verfall took one step back and found herself pressed against the wall. The wall had moved, and she felt- no, she was trapped. 

 

“Oh, easy Ver. Don’t want you to get hurt.” He said, brushing off faux dust from her shoulder, cigarette still between his fingers.

 

Her eyes focused on the bud of his cigarette, the burning red coal glaring back at her like a ball of angry fire. 

 

Dr. Schaffer followed her gaze and he smiled. He moved so fast- too fast- and she inhaled sharply as he slammed the cigarette besides her face. She could feel the heat of it against her ear and something was hurting.

 

She hunched into herself, trying to make herself smaller. His hand slipped up the back of her head and she grappled with his white lab coat.

 

“No- no- no-“ she breathed as his grip tightened on her hair.

 

He forced her head back hard against the wall.

 

Verfall inhaled sharply as she awoke, head throbbing from rolling into the wall. She pulled away from it, tightening her grip on the soft pillowy fabric tangled around her limbs. Her eyes snapped open and they adjusted to the darkness as she hit the ground with a thud. 

 

She grimaced, pulling the blanket away from her legs.

 

She stood to her feet, flicking the light on. In her disheveled state, it took her longer than necessary to soak in what she was seeing. 

 

Pillows were scattered across the ground, her lamp was dangerously close to the edge of her side table. She lurched forwards, catching it before it could shatter. She placed it back onto the table carefully.

 

She glanced at her phone.

 

It was 1:30 am.

 

She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep now. Not after that treacherous dream, which would be awaiting her return. She picked up her pillows and blanket, tossing it onto the bed. 

 

She twisted the knob to her room and entered the hall, her heart twisting and turning inside of her chest.

 

“Ms. Bastiani, your heart rate seems to be dangerously high.” JARVIS’s British voice rang through the hall. “Shall I contact Mr. Stark?”

 

She snapped her head upwards. There was a little camera nestled in the center. She opened her mouth, then shut it, pursing her lips.

 

The room had felt claustrophobic, small. Like Dr. Schaffer was somehow there with her, even though he wasn’t. She didn’t want to be in there, but she wasn’t permitted anywhere else.

 

Well, Stark did say she could come by the lab.

 

“No, it’s- it’s okay JARVIS.” Her voice quivered. “Could you lead me to the lab?”

 

There was a pause, and the light in the hallways turned on, followed by several more, leading her right.

 

“Thank you, JARVIS.” She mumbled and the AI seemed to hum with content.

 

“Of course, Ms. Bastiani.” 

 

She wondered if JARVIS knew how to smile. He wasn’t a being with form, not something tangible that could be held. She wondered if JARVIS was aware of the fact. 

 

She followed the lights, twisting and turning through halls and catching glimpses of the dark sea, the night an intense black. She hugged herself tightly, walking past another door before travelling down a small stairwell. The door to the lab was clear, made of bulletproof glass. The lights were on, and Stark was hovering over a laser metal cutter, slicing through thick pieces of metal for his suits.

 

For his suits, which were lined inside cases embedded in the walls, creating a semi-circle if the room was round.

 

She was in the future, wasn’t she?

 

"The future." James had grinned, resembling that of a school boy on a field trip.

 

How ironic- to be in the future without really living.

 

Verfall pressed her lips into a thin line as Stark’s lips moved from inside. She assumed he was talking to JARVIS as the door unlocked. She pressed it open quietly, and the whirring machine slowly stopped, turning off. 

 

Stark barely glanced at her, picking up the cut metal and placing it aside. She padded forwards silently, examining the room as she tried to find a place to sit. The corner near an Iron Man painting caught her attention and she stepped towards it.

 

She nestled herself into the corner of the room, gazing at Stark as he continued working on his next suit. She drew her knees up to her chest, and pressed her forehead against them.

 

She heard Stark pile his metal, before completely stopping movements altogether.

 

“Lucia?” Stark called.

 

The whirring of other machines stopped silence from settling as she hesitantly tilted her head up. She kept her knees close, fingers fiddling together.

 

Stark was three feet away from her, his hands dirtied with oil and other grime that managed to make its way from the metal to his skin.

 

His eyes roamed over her face. Understanding shifted between his gaze. 

 

“Couldn’t sleep, huh, Ms. Mafiosa?” For once, the nickname sounded sincere and genuinely concerned. 

 

He approached her carefully, like she was fragile. 

 

She wasn’t.

 

She wasn’t allowed to be fragile or weak, because those were inherent human traits. She wasn’t supposed to be a person. She was just playing a role because that was her mission and she needed to be capable of being a person and a weapon, even though they tried to condition the person out of her. Dr. Schaffer liked that sometimes. He liked to pick up her pieces and put her back together so he could break her again. But- at least he put her back together.

 

Karpov never did. Joseph couldn’t. James couldn’t. Volya never did. Sasha never did.

 

But Dr. Schaffer, the source of her nightmares, well, he did. He’d been soft. 

 

He’d been soft.

 

“You. . .” Stark was closer now, crouching in front of her. “. . .uh wanna talk about it?”

 

She felt guilty for a second- he was, well, it must’ve been awkward for him. Stark didn’t seem to be the guy to sit down and open up with their feelings pooling out of their mouths. He was a very humor-ful and sarcastic man. The ooey-gooey stuff didn’t seem to be an interest to him.

 

Then it occurred to her he might’ve offered her space in the lab just to be polite. Her fingers dug into her pants and his eyes tracked the motion.

 

“I’m not intruding, am I?” She whispered hoarsely. 

 

Stark shook his head immediately.

 

Relief swelled in her stomach.

 

“Okay.” She said in a small voice. “I um- can we not talk about it?”

 

Stark looked a little relieved.

 

“Yeah, sure. Want me to leave you alone?” He asked as kindly as he could.

 

She thought about it for a moment, before nodding jerkily. 

 

“Alright.” He said with a somber look. 

 

He stood to his feet, then reached out with a hand, placing it on her shoulder. He patted her once, then turned back to his workspace. The tinkering of metal continued, and Verfall found it genuinely relaxing.

 

She vaguely heard Stark tell JARVIS to play some music. She noticed the soft R&B that echoed around the room. The beats were a good mix between the clinking silver, and Stark’s self-talk as he worked.

 

It was comforting.

 

She missed the sounds of shifting plates, the cold metal that managed to lull her to sleep. If she remembered correctly, Winter’s hand was made with silvery aluminum, dipped in vibranium, but she held it all the same. 

 

She wondered how Stark would react to the metal arm. It was a prosthetic unparalleled to any on the market- she wondered if Howard had known his prototype wouldn’t make it to the future. That it’d be hidden, so no one would know it could be weaponized.

 

“Oooh yeah, smooth jam.” Stark grinned as his shoulders dropped and lifted to the beat. 

 

Verfall couldn’t help but watch him. It was interesting, to see him so relaxed and loose. 

 

More guilt pooled in her stomach. 

 

He was a target, and she’d never felt this guilty for target’s because that’s what she’d been conditioned to do- to not feel. But, all her prior targets had been people she’d killed before having a chance to bond, to forge a relationship, no matter how fake or real it may be. There was some empathy in her chest, something HYDRA couldn’t truly get rid of.

 

She leaned her cheek against her knee, head tilted as she tried to focus on Stark’s movements. She didn’t want to dissociate but she couldn’t control it.

 

She could feel it- not all the time- but this time. her brain slowly pulled back, her eyes lost focus, everything was blurred blobs, silhouettes and fuzzy shapes. 

 

She liked to think it was like being there, but not being there at the same time. She didn’t know how else to describe the sensation as she sat there, consumed by a thousand-yard stare.

 

Her body ached for sleep, trying to fog her mind over as her eyelids drooped. But an image of Dr. Schaffer would appear so vividly in the dark and she’d snap her eyes open. 

 

She wondered how she’d managed to stand up to him when he’d turned himself in. There had been a lot of factors: he’d been lenient, overly so; he’d gotten what he’d wanted; and she’d been in the mindset of a person.

 

Of Lucy.

 

She shuddered, pulling her knees even closer as she held tightly to them. 

 

And she had standing orders too. She was supposed to kill Dr. Schaffer on sight but she couldn’t because she couldn’t, except there’d be consequences since Sasha would get upset and she’d disobey him unintentionally but that wasn’t something she had control over and-

 

And-

 

It was a mess.

 

She was a mess.

 

Her heart rate spiked as the thoughts spiraled, her throat growing tight as panic climbed up her spine. She was still unstable, and there was no handler- mission target: Tony Stark- no handler- Mission [REDACTED] Stark- no handler present- STARK- she needed orders but there was no handl- Mission [REDACTED]: Information on the Iron Man suit, it’s mechanism, Stark’s relations, projects. Mission Handler: ANTHONY EDWARD STARK.

 

No, no, no- that wasn’t-

 

Her chest heaved as something warm touched her shoulder, wrapping around her arms and legs, tucking underneath her back. Her fingers pinched the soft fabric curled around her, blanketing her and keeping her safe. She lifted her head and there was a-a blurry silhouette.

 

Stark had given her a blanket.

 

Concern flickered between his eyes.

 

“Uh- deep breaths, okay?” He managed to sound a little less awkward.

 

Okay.

 

Deep breaths. That was an order. She could deal with orders. Orders were easy, simple- it took the burden of having to choose. 

 

She inhaled at a slow rate, exhaling with a slight pause.

 

“I’ll uh- I can keep watch if that makes you comfortable.” Stark said with a small pause. “I’m assuming it’s the uh- Mafia thing. You know. Not a great business to be in.”

 

She nodded with a small tilt of her head. 

 

HYDRA wasn’t something comparable to the Mafia, but he got the gist of it- and that was enough.

 

Stark gave her a tentative smile before standing and returning to his work.

 

Verfall nuzzled her face into the soft blanket. Stark had given her a blanket, and it was her handler’s things. It was kind- Stark was kind.

 

She shut her eyes slowly, listening to the hum of whirring metals, and soft beats.

 

Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

 

Maybe.

Chapter 76: Seventy Five

"His eyes gave him away. There was a drowning man. Behind that smile.”

Malibu, California

May, 2010

SHE AWOKE TO THE SOUND of beeps and whirs, the sound of something moving on wheels. She blinked, her eyes registering to the ceiling light. She’d shifted to curl on the floor sometime during the night. The blanket was still wrapped around her body, but there was a pillow now, right beneath her head, tucked carefully to her neck.

 

She furrowed her eyebrows at the whirring metal arm spinning and turning as it waved at her. She scanned the room- the lab was just as messy as ever, tools strewn out across tables, some  laying on the ground, having clattered after Stark ran out of room. She adjusted her gaze to stare at the robot now emitting a series of quiet clicks and loud clacks. She tilted her head, and took a closer listen.

 

The quiet clicks sounded shorter, the louder clacks sounded longer- dot, dash, dash, dot.

 

Morse code rang familiar in her ears, and Verfall found herself surprised by what it was asking.

 

. — — .

P

.

E

—

T

 

— . .

D

. . —

U

— —

M

.

E

 

She thought she got the translation wrong by the second word, but she listened again and the message remained the same. She scanned the robot, uncertainty flickering between her eyes. She looked to the lab door for a moment, before reaching out with hesitance.

 

“Can The-“ she paused, shaking her head, “-I touch you?”

 

The robot, DUM-E she supposed, let out another series of clicks and clacks. 

 

— . — — 

Y

.

E

. . . 

S

 

She slowly reached out, her fingertips barely brushing against the robotic arm. It chittered with happiness and her lips twitched upwards into a tiny smile. 

 

The door to the lab suddenly lurched open and Verfall flinched, pulling her hand away from DUM-E as quickly as possible. She exhaled softly as Stark sauntered inside, grinning from ear to ear. She calmed the anxiety clawing at her chest, quietly standing to her feet and folding the blanket Stark had given her.

 

DUM-E let out a series of noises, like they were curious.

 

She didn’t give them much attention as she stepped over towards Stark, who grabbed a red and gold suitcase sitting besides his suit prototypes, propping the thing open. He looked to Verfall as she appeared beside him.

 

“Guess what?” He burst, grasping a thin plate of metal, clicking it in place.

 

Verfall raised an eyebrow, at both the question and his suitcase. He’d been working on that for days now, and it was finally complete. She’d known Stark was a genius but she hadn’t known he was, well, this intuitive.

 

Well, she did help with the schematics, but that was besides the point.

 

“I’ll humor you,” she paused, “is it your birthday?”

 

Was that something people still celebrated? It was, wasn’t it? Sasha had said so- that his daughter had. Of course people still celebrated birthdays.

 

She resisted the urge to shake her head, hoping the thought would somehow dislodge itself from her mind without the extra push.

 

“No, well-“ he paused “-close, but no.” 

 

Verfall blinked. 

 

She’d been wrong but there was no harm in being wrong with Stark. There really was no harm. Really.

 

“Uh-huh.” Her eyes flicked across the room. “What time is it?”

 

She wondered if he didn’t put a clock on the wall on purpose.

 

“Two.” He glanced down at his wrist watch. “On the dot.” 

 

The movement was familiar and Verfall’s eyelid twitched, a tiny flinch she concealed the best she could. The wrist watch was a gleaming silver, she noted, not the gold Dr. Schaffer always wore.

 

“AM?” She questioned hesitantly.

 

That would be preferable, since her perimeter checks started from 5:00 AM and lasted until 6:00 AM. It was her faux mission, but a mission nevertheless. She needed to complete it impeccably, without a single mistake.

 

“What? No, PM.” Stark replied, raising an eyebrow.

 

It took a moment for Verfall to register his words before she froze, her hands clutching tightly to the blanket still between her fingertips. Her eyes widened slightly and she clenched her jaw. Stark wouldn’t punish her- he didn’t have the clearance- but she’d done wrong, and that was not allowed and he was- he hadn’t woken her up- why hadn’t he woken her up? Was it a trick? But he couldn’t-

 

“Woah, woah, don’t freak out.” Stark said as he glanced at the tight grip on her blanket.

 

He put a placating hand on her arm and she loosened her grip. She inhaled deeply, her lips dropping into a deep frown.

 

“I’m supposed to be your source of security, Stark.” She pressed. “I slept past my first perimeter check and-“

 

“And-“ he interrupted as he picked up a pair of thin pliers “-you slept eight hours. Eight. You didn’t drift off until 6:00 AM, and you haven’t slept in four days. That’s longer than me for God's sake.”

 

She stared at him.

 

This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have, nor be a part of. 

 

“I get it,” he continued, “I lose time when I work on my suits. But uh, skippin’ sleep until your body forces you to shut down? Not good- not good at all. Besides, what kind of boss would I be if I didn’t take care of my employees?”

 

She dropped her shoulders, letting out a long breath. She gave him a grateful look, an odd ball of relief swirling in her stomach. She gave him a little nod, then let a lopsided smile slip onto her face as she observed his glowing expression.

 

“So then, if it’s not your birthday, what’s got you so chipper?” She inquired curiously.

 

It took less than half a second for Stark to catch back up with the topic.

 

“I’ve got an assistant!” Stark exclaimed proudly. “The redhead from yesterday, remember? Ms. Rushman?”

 

Oh, she remembered.

 

She remembered too vividly the moment her heart ached with an irresistible longing to tell Natalia the truth. To tell her that Winter may not remember, but she sure as hell did, and she’d keep remembering for her- for him- until they could find a way out- if they- no, they would.

 

They would. They had to. 

 

“Uh huh. Natal-ie.” Verfall raised an eyebrow, forcing the bubbling anxiety into the pit of her stomach. “I thought I was your assistant.”

 

She pursed her lips into an almost childish pout.

 

Stark rolled his eyes at her lightheartedly.

 

“Of course not! You’re my advisor, my security guard, my intellectual buddy.” He waved the tool in his hand. “You’re like the chocolate to my marshmallow, like peanut butter to my apples-“ 

 

“Got it.” She said with a little quirk of her lips. 

 

She couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped her, and Stark beamed proudly. 

 

“Anyway, we’re going to Monaco today. I didn’t mean to spring it on you so suddenly but the decision was, well, sudden.” He went back to tweaking the suitcase.

 

Verfall grimaced at the plate he was unintentionally moving by getting the other one to fit. She stood there until she couldn’t stand it, moving to grab the tool from his hands and turning the metal to fully click on both sides.

 

“Oh, thanks.” Stark looked up with a bright smile.

 

Her eyes dropped to the tilt of his lips, lingering on the expression. Something warm pooled in her chest and she tried to ignore the feeling. 

 

“You should pack your clothes.” He hummed as he turned back to his case and Verfall blinked.

 

Her clothes-

 

Oh. There was no handler here to pack them for her. Commander Rumlow and SIC Rollins weren't here so she had to- she had to- well, they were sending her messages through her phone. 

 

But she hadn’t checked in.

 

Dread quickly replaced the comforting feeling in her stomach and she exhaled softly.

 

“Right.” She nodded. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

 

She stepped out of the lab at a leisure pace, the door unlocking as she exited. So the door locked whenever it closed, so she’d need permission from JARVIS, but if there is no JARVIS- if there’s a different AI faking JARVIS, then maybe. . .

 

Verfall knew it would work. 

 

That was the unsettling thing. It would work, but- but she didn’t want it too. She would have to be with Dr. Zola, and she had no desire to converse with the man-turned-AI. He’d always been merciful towards her, but she couldn’t appreciate the gesture when he’d torn James into a thousand pieces, only to stitch him back together in a misshapen weapon that was more Winter, more Asset, than James.

 

She shook her head.

 

One thing at a time- she needed to report to her mission handler first.

 

She arrived at her room rather quickly, and grasped her phone. She watched the fake interface pixelate and dissolve once it recognized her face. There were several “missed calls”- those only meant Morse code messages. 

 

Her eyes flicked across the room. She inhaled deeply and clicked on the call app, typing in a number hurriedly.

 

She put the phone to her ear, staring ahead of her as she waited. Her phone rang- once, twice, three times.

 

Then she heard a click and she let out a small breath.

 

“Buon pomeriggio, Bruno.”

 

Good afternoon, Bruno.

 

She greeted with a bright smile on her face.

 

There was a tense pause, and Verfall swallowed nervously as she waited for an answer. There was a faint conversation she could hear- Jack, no- wait, Brock let me- I’m Comman- no you’re a dick- there was the sound of something clattering to the ground.

 

A few seconds passed, until finally she received a reply.

 

“Afternoon, Lucia, how have you been?” Jack greeted smoothly.

 

Verfall smiled softly, grabbing her suitcase and filling it with clothes.

 

It was always a pleasure to speak with Agent Rollins. He was kind, and genuine, and most importantly, held a moral code. He had a standard that rose hundreds of feet above those who usually worked for HYDRA.

 

He was a man of the military- and subsequently a man of honor.

 

“I’ve been well. Sorry for calling late, mio amico, I’ve had work.” She paused, fiddling with the sleeve of one of her shirts. “My client has been rather busy for the past few days, but I’ve managed to strengthen his security quite a bit. Ah, but that’s classified. What about you?”

 

She heard Agent Rollins hum for a moment.

 

“Good. I take it Stark keeps you working and you haven’t had much of an opening, have you?” He questioned.

 

She let out a small chuckle.

 

“Of course. But no, Tony treats me well.” She said.

 

She could hear Agent Rumlow complaining in the background. There was a small thud- Agent Rollins must’ve shoved him back. She tried not to envision the pair fighting over a phone, pressing their hands in each other’s faces.

 

“Okay.” She could almost see Agent Rollins purse his lips as the phone let out a loud rustle. 

 

“Do you have any ideas viable within Mission parameters?” That was Commander Rumlow, his voice sharp with authority. “We want this to be a short, concise operation. If we get this info? We’ve got something better than nuclear codes. You understand that, right Weapon?”

 

Verfall didn’t let her smile falter as her heart rate rose, thrumming against her chest. This was important, and she couldn’t fail. She’d never failed and she wasn’t planning on failing now.

 

“Yes, well, I think I’ll be free in a few days.” She shut her suitcase, zipping it closed. “Could you let Sandro know I won’t return to Italy until I have a satisfactory amount of denaro?”

 

There was a pause as Agent Rumlow put two and two together.

 

“I’ll let Secretary Pierce know.” He replied.

 

There was another scuffle and she waited patiently as Agent Rollins took the phone once again.

 

“Buona fortuna, Lucia.” 

 

Good luck, Lucia.

 

Verfall was pleasantly surprised by Agent Rollins’s ability to speak Italian with barely any accent. 

 

“Ciao!”

 

The line went silent, and she pulled the phone away from her ear.

 

“Ciao.” She mumbled under her breath.

 

She sighed, pushing her suitcase in the front zipper, closing it once the object was placed snugly in there.

 

A knock sounded at her door and Verfall took her suitcase, letting the wheels gently glide across the floor, before opening the door. She was greeted by a head of red hair, curled pristinely and gently brushing against her shoulders as she smiled brightly.

 

Her green eyes gleamed with polite curiosity. Verfall didn’t let herself be startled, instead glancing down at the hand held out to her.

 

She grasped it after a moment.

 

“I believe we’re coworkers now.” Natalia’s lips quirked upwards.

 

Verfall pulled her hand back, returning the expression.

 

“I believe so.” Her eyes wandered to the suitcase Natalia was dragging along as well. “Monaco, right?”

 

Natalia glanced down at her luggage, and let out a soft laugh, nodding her head with a shiny glimmer in her eyes. For a second Verfall saw Natalia, young, twelve years old, gazing up at her and Winter with the most emotion they’d ever seen. 

 

There was something real to that smile of hers- there was something.

 

“Stark’s a bit unprofessional, isn’t he?” Natalia sighed, though she didn’t seem discontented.

 

“Oh, of course. That’s the Stark way I suppose.” She glanced down the hall. “Are we set to leave?”

 

Natalia nodded, stepping aside to make room for her. 

 

Verfall entered the hall and the pair started towards the main exit.

 

It was silent for a few seconds- awkward seconds, with pin-pricking needles climbing up and down her neck. She kept her breathing even as Natalia kept up with her pace.

 

“So, where are you from?” She asked and Verfall smiled.

 

She wasn’t prying, but under the polite facade, Verfall could tell she was digging for intel. How could she not? She’d overseen the girls’ training, she knew how each of them worked.

 

Which meant she also knew all the tricks Natalia did.

 

“Sicily, Italy. More specifically, Palermo, western side.” She replied smoothly, pausing only when Natalia pretended not to recognize where Palermo was.

 

The redhead brightened- it looked nearly real, the expression.

 

“I’ve always wanted to go to Italy. How is it?” She inquired.

 

Verfall hummed in thought.

 

“As a tourist, it is a memorable place. As a local, not so much. But the scenery is rather pleasing and the people- oh, mia zia- my aunt, she knew all the best restaurants, best families.” She chuckled softly at the thought of an old lady, not frail but not lively either.

 

The image vaguely helped as Natalia gazed at her with some awe.

 

She wondered if Natalia had ever seen Italy in person. They’d seen pictures, projected on the walls, on the little box TV’s, but they’d never taken a field trip to the country.

 

“Huh. I used to live in Ohio before I moved to Russia.” Natalia shook her head, a tiny smile on her lips. “Ohio is my home.”

 

Verfall resisted the urge to narrow her eyes, gaze focused in front of her, their reflections blurring in the glass door ahead.

 

She had an inkling feeling that the Ohio part wasn’t a lie. Russia- well, that she knew and recognized easily. But Ohio had no correlation to Russia; had no genuine connections to make it believable; and made it a terrible lie if it was one. 

 

It was a stretch- too implausible.

 

“And Russia?” Verfall questioned.

 

Something sour bled through her smile.

 

“As a tourist, it is a memorable place.” She responded.

 

Verfall rolled her eyes lightheartedly, bumping her elbow into Natalia’s arm.

 

“But you aren’t wrong.” Verfall agreed. 

 

She pushed the glass door open, wheels clicking against the sidewalk and pavement as she approached a parked sleek black car. 

 

She squinted under the sun as Natalia snapped her pair of sunglasses open, placing them over her eyes.

 

Even with the dark surface covering her stare, she could feel Natalia’s gaze on her, scrutinizing her without really scrutinizing her.

 

Verfall wouldn’t have noticed if not for her enhanced senses. Stark was at the wheel and Happy had a hand on the car trunk, keeping it open as he waved the pair over.

 

They entrusted Happy with their suitcases.

 

Verfall gave the man a smile, then strode towards the backseats and pulled the door open.

 

“Ready to see the Grand Prix of Monaco?” Stark grinned back at her.

 

She blinked as she ducked her head underneath the roof of the car.

 

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” 

 

His grin widened, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, even as they twinkled.

 

“What can I say? I’m a Stark!”

Chapter 77: Seventy Six

"In the end, death stares into your soul.”

???, Monaco

May, 2010

VERFALL WAS TAKEN ABACK BY the anarchic chaos circling the atmosphere, trapping people in screams and shouts. For the first time in decades, Verfall heard screams that weren’t made from terror, but from happiness- excitement. It was the oddest thing she’d ever seen in a long time, not that she wasn’t an idiosyncratic person herself. Even then, that barely brushed the surface.

 

They’d stopped at a hotel inexplicably fancy compared to the motel’s Verfall had visited with the STRIKE team. They each had their own room, although Verfall found it pointless to rent a hotel when they were only staying for a night. Nevertheless, she left her suitcase beside her bed, only keeping her phone attached to her hip. 

 

Verfall’s lips twitched upwards into a polite smile as she walked past a waiter balancing glasses of champagne with impeccable perfection. Natalia stepped around another worker smoothly, her footsteps silent. It was a tiny mistake on her part- making her feet sound with complete silence- and Verfall had a motherly urge to scold the redhead. 

 

She reminded herself, both visually and mentally, that Natalia wasn’t the little girl she used to know. She was her own woman now, a steadfast and unperturbed woman. 

 

Her ears picked up the sound of Stark’s iconic and unforgettable voice. She tilted her head towards the building entrance as Stark, Pepper and Happy all appeared at the doorway. 

 

They’d arrived separately, after much debate over Stark’s safety and security. Her presence would be bad press since Stark was trying to forget his playboy ways. Verfall knew what he was implying so she begrudgingly agreed.

 

“-just go with it.” Stark smiled charismatically.

 

“Go with it?” Pepper questioned as her eyes wandered around the room. “Go with what?”

 

Her eyes landed on Verfall for a moment and she blinked with genuine confusion. So Stark hadn’t told her of the arrangements. That sounded like a Stark thing to do.

 

“Mr. Stark.” Natalia greeted.

 

“Hey.” He removed his sunglasses. 

 

Natalia let out a small chuckle as Verfall held up a hand, wiggling her fingers in a wave.

 

“Hello. How was your flight?” Natalia questioned.

 

“It was excellent.” Stark looked between them. “Boy, it’s nice to see both of you.” 

 

Verfall rolled her eyes lightheartedly, dropping her hand in front of her and keeping them clasped. She kept her back horizontal, chin straight, posture absolutely perfect. Natalia didn’t mention the small change in her shoulders. 

 

Verfall chewed on the inside of her lip, the only sign of her uncertainty.

 

“I’m sure you didn’t come across any problems?” Verfall smiled and Stark winked at her.

 

“‘Course not.” He replied. “No one’s out to kill me. Yet.”

 

One of the waiters intercepted them, holding out a silver platter with two glasses of hard liquor. Stark took one, then Pepper, before Natalia waved Stark towards a man holding a hefty camera.

 

“We have one photographer from the ACM, if you don’t mind.” Natalia said, taking both their drinks and handing them  to Verfall.

 

Her fingers automatically slipped over the glasses and she raised an eyebrow. Stark looked marginally offended as Pepper turned to her, looking more confused about the fact Natalia was somehow here. 

 

“When did this happen?”

 

“What? You made me do it.”

 

“I made you do what? You’ve already dragged poor Ms. Bastiani here.”

 

“That’s her job. Besides, you quit.” The photographer took a step forwards, and Stark turned, his lips quirking into a smile immediately. “Smile. Look right there. Stop acting constipated.”

 

Verfall bit back a chuckle. 

 

Her hands were starting to grow extremely cold from the ice in the glass, but she barely noticed, instead keeping her eyes on Stark, wondering what he wanted her to do next.

 

“Right this way.” Natalia guided him.

 

Stark managed not to eye her as they started towards the bar area. Verfall teetered back and forth on her feet, waiting patiently as she almost lost view of him.

 

“You look fantastic by the way.” Stark grinned.

 

“Why, thank you very much.” Natalia remained polite.

 

“But that’s unprofessional. Lucia! Keep my drinks.” He called and Verfall blinked, pivoting on her foot.

 

She followed after the compulsive man quickly, right at Natalia’s heels.

 

“Of course, Tony.” She said softly.

 

The inventor barely had time to shoot her an appreciative glance as he turned to Natalia, questioning her about his schedule.

 

Verfall would miss Stark’s nearly overbearing presence, but this was better. If he kept his eyes on Natalia, he would be too busy watching her movements, rather than Verfall’s. Becoming the ghost- the shadow she was- would be as easy as assassinating any target she’d ever eliminated. Of course, she was still doing this without Winter, but that was okay.

 

She’d return to him, return to James even if he was nearly hollowed out. Then the coldness of cryo sleep would reach her and she’d wake seconds after. Relief brewed in her stomach. If she just thought about the later, than the now, everything was better.

 

Verfall kept up with Stark as Natalia moved to reserve one of the corner tables.

 

“May I?” Pepper appeared beside her shoulder, holding her hand towards one of the drinks in Verfall’s hands.

 

“Oh, yes, here.” She said, gently placing the glass in Pepper’s hands.

 

Her eyes shifted to her hands, which had grown red around whiter, paler skin, a bodily reaction to ice cold drinks. 

 

“You must be cold.” Pepper pursed her lips.

 

“It’s not that bad, really.” Verfall assured. 

 

Pepper seemed to have a desire to take the glass but her eyes wandered to the man sitting across from them at one of the reserved tables and her lips tilted upwards into a bright smile. She looked genuinely happy to see the man.

 

“Mr. Musk. How are you?” Pepper greeted, stepping forwards and holding her hand out.

 

“Hi, Pepper.” The man greeted.

 

Elon Musk: Inventor. Status: Witness. Relevance: None.

 

Verfall remained a few feet away from them. Clearly, the an wwasn’t. Much of a genius as Stark.

 

“Congratulations on the promotion.” Elon stated politely.

 

“Thank you very much.” Pepper smiled happily.

 

Stark walked around the corner table as Natalia spoke with a waiter.

 

“Elon, how is it going?” Stark took his hand. “Those Merlin engines are fantastic.”

 

“Thank you.” Elon practically beamed. “Yeah, I’ve got an idea for an electric jet.”

 

The pair started walking away but Stark paused, turning his head back at the man. Verfall nearly ran into him, keeping herself steady only by tipping back onto the balls of her feet.

 

“You do?” Stark’s eyes sparked with interest, just as they had when she’d changed his suit schematics to something lightweight.

 

“Yeah.” Elon continued.

 

“Then we’ll make it work.” Stark shot him a grin.

 

She kept up with the couple, Stark tucking a hand behind Pepper’s waist as he guided them towards the bar. He was attempting to redeem himself from hiring Natalie in some way but Pepper seemed to be a hard case as she continued to shake her head with a small sigh.

 

It reminded her so much of Howard- he’d attempted to drink while working and tried to coax Peggy, who only replied with firm no’s. 

 

“Green is not your best color.” Stark said as he leaned against the bar table.

 

His eyes shifted to Verfall. He didn’t like to be handed things, she remembered. She smiled politely and leaned against the bar behind Pepper, sliding the drink across the table.

 

“Oh, please.” Pepper replied with a roll of her eyes.

 

“Anthony! Is that you?”

 

Justin Hammer: Grade A bastard. Status: Witness. Relevance: none, indefinitely.

 

Stark stared at Verfall with a roll of his eyes, annoyance flickering across his expression as his eyebrows pinched together. She gave him a look of understanding. The man was a coward. He tried his best to be as brave as Stark but the man was practically a child, too fearful of what the world had to offer.

 

He was rather stupid too.

 

He’d wanted to make a name for himself and had taken the first chance he got- HYDRA. Justin had absolutely zero clearance to even know her designation. But she knew the rumors had made his skin prickle.

 

“My least favorite person on Earth.” Stark sighed. “Justin Hammer.”

 

“Hey, Pal.” Justin approached the pair, clapping a hand on Stark’s shoulder.

 

He was oblivious to Verfall who remained hidden over Pepper’s tall stature.

 

“You’re not the only rich guy here with a fancy car.” He proclaimed.

 

Verfall’s eyelid twitched. Of course he wasn’t- Elon Musk was here for God’s sake. The man behind the bar seemed to sense her annoyance and slid a glass of champagne in front of her. She gave him a polite look, taking it between her hands and swirling it with her wrist.

 

A little vortex took form.

 

“You know Christine Everhart from Vanity Fair.” Hammer introduced. “You guys know each other?”

 

“Hi.” Christine smiled.

 

Verfall wasn’t surprised by the dread in Stark’s eyes.

 

“Hi.” Pepper’s smile turned nearly sardonic. “We do.”

 

“Yes, roughly.” Stark admitted.

 

“BTW, big story. The new CEO of Stark Industries. Congratulations.” He said, pointing at Pepper almost rudely.

 

Verfall stepped to the right of Pepper, appearing more vividly as Christine started to converse with Pepper. 

 

Justin’s eyes flitted to her and she stared at him dead in the eyes, lifting her champagne glass and letting the gold liquid slip between her lips, trickling down her throat. He stammered something unintelligible and Stark shot him a weird look.

 

“Uh-um-uh she’s actually doing a big spread on me for Vanity Fair.” His eyes moved away from Verfall as he spoke.

 

Their conversation fell on dead ears as Justin caught her gaze once again. She pulled the glass away, and let her expression drop to something shockingly blank. His lips twitched downward as genuine fear flashed between his eyes. Her polite expression reappeared when Stark drew his eyes away from the table ahead of him. 

 

“Looking gorgeous.” Justin complimented him.

 

Verfall narrowed her eyes at the naive asshole.

 

“This is tough.” Stark exhaled.

 

“Fromage. Say ‘Brie’.” His voice quivered.

 

Verfall could feel the nervous energy exuding off his shoulder, like a rabbit afraid to keep eye contact with a fox any longer. She supposed there were small blessings here and there.

 

“God, that’s so awful.” Stark groaned.

 

Christine tried to cut into their conversation, and Verfall drained the rest of her champagne, the liquid distracting her from the infuriatingly nasally voice she had.

 

“Listen,” Verfall decided Christine’s voice was bothersome, “is it the first time you’ve seen each other since the senate?”

 

“Since he got his contract revoked-“ Stark hummed.

 

Justin opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Verfall thoroughly enjoyed the moment as he struggled to get words to form. 

 

How did Sasha tolerate the man?

 

“Oh, actually, it’s on hold.” He huffed.

 

She placed her champagne glass back onto the bar table as Stark started to walk away again. She watched as he drew further away and she buried the urge to follow right behind him.

 

“-when you were attempting to-“ Stark continued. “That’s not what I heard. What’s the difference between ‘hold’ and ‘canceled’? Lucia, follow please.”

 

The order registered in an instant and she was by his side without any extra prompting.

 

Okay, so, maybe that didn’t do any good for her brain. It only solidified the fact that Stark did have authority over her- which he did, as her boss- but now, well, things were getting complicated in her torn brain. 

 

It was a struggle to keep herself from overstepping- of causing suspicion.

 

“The truth?” Stark raised an eyebrow.

 

“Yes what is?” Christine looked between them.

 

Her eyes moved over Verfall who kept that same polite smile on her lips.

 

“No. The truth is that- um- why don’t we put that away?” Justin pushed Christine’s voice recorder away.

 

She held it back up. At least she had one good quality to her.

 

“The truth is I’m actually hoping to present something at your expo.” Justin continued.

 

Verfall let a chuckle burst out from her chest and Stark grinned at her.

 

How could Justin Hammer, the cockiest man in the world with nothing to back him up with, showcase something at the Stark Expo?

 

“Apologies,” she smiled, “I didn’t mean that to be rude.”

 

Justin gazed at her nervously.

 

“Uh- no worries.” He replied.

 

Verfall still remembered- when she was Lucy, when James was still himself, and Steve was a spitfire. The Expo had been magnificent, a trip to the future. And Howard, well, he was a flirt too, just like Stark.

 

“Well, if you invent something that works, I’ll make sure I get you a slot.” Stark wasn’t going to uphold that agreement.

 

Verfall tilted her head back at the sound of Natalia’s soft footsteps.

 

“Mr. Stark?” She said.

 

“Yes?” Stark turned.

 

“Your corner table is ready.” She pointed her hand towards it.

 

Stark stood, beckoning Verfall to follow.

 

“I actually have a slot this year. Yes, I do.” Justin smiled.

 

“Hammer needs a slot, Christine.” Stark called back.

 

Verfall stood, watching as Natalia returned to the corner table as Stark split from her, giving her a little tilt of his head before he started towards the private bathrooms- fancier ones, if you will. 

 

She raised a curious eyebrow.

 

“We kid, yeah.” Justin laughed awkwardly, trying to save his dignity.

 

She stepped around Justin, then placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, and his eyes flicked lower than her chin. She swallowed her disgust, a burning revulsion filling her stomach.

 

“You don’t deserve a slot.” She spoke with a wide smile, patting the side of his neck before sauntering towards Stark.

 

He was waiting near the hall entrance, the sound of people muted as he started stepping towards a private bathroom. Verfall shifted her gaze to his face, which was creased with a marginal amount of stress.

 

“Tony?” She questioned.

 

He blinked, stopping in front of the door.

 

“If you only had a week left to live, what would you do?” He blurted.

 

Verfall furrowed her eyebrows- what an odd question. But Sasha was like that too in many ways, always asking pointless questions. Always wanting a correct answer. 

 

Stark wasn’t the same.

 

He wasn’t.

 

“Well,” she crossed her arms over her chest as she thought, “if I could do anything. . .I would want to see the people I care about the most. Or- I guess I’d do the most insane things- throw parties, skydive, participate in ridiculous stunts.”

 

She paused, waiting for Stark’s approval or disapproval. She swallowed unsurely when he only stared at her. When he finally smiled, there was something melancholic in his expression. 

 

She didn’t like that look on his face. It didn’t settle well in her stomach.

 

“Yeah. Ridiculous stunts.” He echoed. “Mind guarding the door?”

 

Verfall looked him over.

 

“It’d be my pleasure.” She nodded.

 

She watched Stark enter the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He was locking her out too, wasn’t he? She said nothing as she stood like a barricade in front of the door, staring forwards with impeccable patience.

 

When he exited, there was a certain wild determination in his eyes. 

 

Verfall didn’t protest when, minutes later, she found herself preparing Stark for the race, a last second plan. It didn’t take long for her to put two and two together: Stark was dying. He was- in a week? That didn’t make any sense. How did he even-?

 

Her questions remained unfinished and unanswered as Stark zipped his jacket up to his neck. He inhaled deeply, mentally preparing himself. 

 

Verfall gazed at him.

 

“Don’t you think you should tell Pepper?” She questioned.

 

Stark looked up at her.

 

“I can’t.” He exhaled as he grabbed one of the race-car helmets.

 

“Why tell me?” She tilted her head.

 

Tony opened his mouth, then shut it, pursing his lips. He must know that she was intelligent enough to figure things out.

 

“You remind me of someone my not-aunt but kind-of-aunt, well- not blood-related- used to speak about.” 

 

Verfall felt something cold settle in her chest.

 

Was he talking about Peggy?

 

He paused, tiling his head back with a smile.

 

“You’re different.”

 

The phrase didn’t make up for the crowd going wild as Stark held up peace signs, waving at the over-exuberant fans and reporters. Verfall was only glad she’d changed into a uniform identical to the workers replacing the vehicle’s wheels. 

 

She jumped over the short barrier between the car and the crowd, allowing Stark to step in front of her as one of them shouted in alarm. They seemed to grow confused when they recognized Stark and Verfall gave them a little shrug.

 

“Well, what’s the use of having and owning a race car if you don’t drive it?” Stark smirked, turning to the crowd.

 

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at Verfall, who only shook her head in exasperation.

 

She stepped up to the race car, asking as politely as possible for the racer to exit. He threw his hands up in the air with a burst of anger and she frowned deeply, gazing at him with a death stare. The racer pursed his lips, before finally exiting the vehicle.

 

“Tony, here you go.” She called, and the genius hopped into the car.

 

She handed him a helmet and Stark moved the clear piece upwards.

 

“Wish me luck?” He asked.

 

“Are you sure about this?” She asked reluctantly.

 

His lips tilted upwards into a small smile.

 

“Buona fortuna.”

 

Good luck.

 

She said calmly.

 

Her heart raced at the thought of Stark diving over 100 mph just to have some fun before he died. The man wasn’t only compulsive, but he was near suicidal too- he was going to die, maybe. 

 

But she had no right to say much of anything.

 

Stark winked, revving the engine. He gave her a thumbs up and she pulled back, stepping away from the vehicle with care.

 

She watched the race car as it zipped forward with a loud roar. She winced at the unbearably loud sound, but kept her composure as Stark disappeared from view. Only a second passed before she felt her phone buzzing. She tried to decipher it as a message, but it wasn’t. She pursed her lips as she put the device to ear, taking the call.

 

“What the actual hell are you doing?!” 

 

Her expression remained flat.

 

Agent Rumlow’s voice was hoarse, like he’d just awoken from a nap. She could see it- Commander Rumlow rolling over in his bed only to catch sight of the TV, specifically the race in Monaco.

 

“I don’t quite understand.” She said, cupping her hand over her phone.

 

“Why is Tony Stark racing, and why were you on TV less than a minute ago?” He exclaimed.

 

She heard him sit up, then heard another voice. Supposedly Rumlow was too loud and Second in Command Rollins was trying to sleep.

 

“Shut up, Jack. The Weapon was on TV and Tony Stark is currently racing. Does he even know how to race? He’s going to get himself killed!”

 

“Is that a problem?” Verfall questioned with genuine curiosity.

 

She didn’t take him to be the type to care about other people’s wellbeing, unless they were comrades or, well, dangerous enough to kill him without lifting a finger. She heard him snap back at Jack- the Commander was awake and cranky, two terrible combinations.

 

“No Stark, no easy access to information. Got it?” The Commander’s voice was dark. “You better make sure that asshole still has a heart beating after this shit.”

 

She inhaled deeply.

 

“I’ll try my best.” Her eyes narrowed on a man in an orange tracksuit, stepping over the barrier and into the middle of the race track.

 

Was he trying to kill himself? If so, was he taking other people with him?

 

Commander Rumlow huffed on the other side, before ending the call. 

 

She barely noticed, shoving the phone into her pocket as the man removed his helmet, tearing open his uniform to reveal a blazing arc reactor, two whips dropping into his hands. The rest of his shirt burned as electricity sparked across his back, like two fiery wings without any of it’s feathers. 

 

He wasn’t enhanced, not really.

 

She watched morbidly as one of the electrified whips shot forwards, slamming into the front of an oncoming race car and splitting the metal immediately in half. The racecar tumbled over itself multiple times, before screeching to a stop.

 

It was terrifying, how fast screams of enjoyment could turn to those of horror.

 

Verfall gritted her teeth, her eyes flicking back and forth with uncertainty. She put a hand on the racing barrier as Stark’s blue and white car came into view. The man sliced forwards with his whip again, narrowly missing Stark’s head. The race car cut just as the last one did, and Stark flipped over in thunderous crunches, crashing into the metal side.

 

She didn’t have much time to think as she threw herself over the barrier, sprinting towards Stark at a pace much quicker than the man who stalked forwards. 

 

He removed his helmet with a shaky gasp.

 

Verfall pushed the car upwards with a faux grimace, helping Stark climb out with her other hand. He seemed frozen, his gaze focused on the man behind her.

 

“Hurry!” She shouted.

 

Another race car appeared, turning to a stop in front of the man. 

 

Two more slammed straight into it.

 

A fiery explosion shook the street, rattling her bones and encaptivating the audience. The flame was something beautiful- the destruction was not. She half-dragged Stark out of his vehicle, ignoring the blood on his face as wheels spun wildly in the air. 

 

She pulled one of his arms over her shoulder, running towards the smoke, hoping it would cover their presence. Stark made an effort to remain silent as the man strutted towards Stark’s vehicle, slamming his whip into it a second time.

 

Suddenly Stark was running, holding a piece of debri and slamming it straight into the back of the man’s head.

 

“Tony!” Verfall shouted with alarm, eyes wide.

 

Stark hit the ground with an unceremonious thud, narrowly missing one of the electrified whips. He rolled on the ground a second time and Verfall watched as the man continued to slash at him, slicing pavement in the process. 

 

The cogs in her brain turned, and she let the mechanics click as sparks flew through the air. Stark sprinted futile towards one of the other race cars- desiring higher ground, maybe?- but the man was faster, throwing his whip forwards in a violent arc.

 

Stark hit the ground with an audible groan of pain.

 

Verfall drew the knife hidden behind her combat boots, the blindingly white one that was no longer in it’s holster. She darted towards the man who turned at the sound of her loud footsteps. 

 

He turned, the whips following his movements immediately after.

 

She looked at the smoke behind him.

 

She breathed deeply, keeping eye contact with the man who tilted his head. She slowly held her hands up, slipping her knife back into her boot.

 

He turned back to Stark, and she stepped to the side as the man spun his arms, creating circles of blinding white energy as he stalked towards Stark. He looked like he was having fun with it, until Stark suddenly moved.

 

He slammed the whip into the car and it exploded in his face, gas having spilled.

 

Stark was on fire, but he quickly patted himself out, blood trickling down his cheek. His eyes flicked to Verfall- was that betrayal? Confusion? Distrust? The man started forwards. Her gaze shifted to the gold glittering her wrists and she took several fast breaths, chest heaving with anxiety.

 

She activated her abilities. 

 

For a tense second it was silent. She expected electricity, she really did, but nothing came.

 

Commander Rumlow was watching.

 

Her lips twitched upwards into a nearly sinister grin.

 

She sauntered in front of Stark, and the man’s gaze drifted to her. She drew her blade- both of them. 

 

Verfall forced one of the racecars to implode, then explode, having the sound and smoke of a bomb, but the circumference of a gas leak as it roared with flames. She guided the smoke around her and the man, forcing it away from Stark, who coughed. 

 

Stark was important.

 

She engaged the man in combat, narrowly dodging the electric whip- it wasn’t electricity now, she could tell- it wasn’t what she was used to, the molecules were off, too fast. She slowed the currents, energy buzzing out at the tips of the whips and spreading upwards. Her hands curled with white wisps, but it dissipated into the smoke, undetectable.

 

The man’s eyes widened with faint alarm as she sliced at his chest. He jumped back, bringing up his arm to whip her with only the metal. It slammed into her arm and pain rippled down her skin but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t felt before.

 

“Shit!” She heard Stark shout in morbid surprise.

 

Her reaction was instant, hand reaching up to tangle itself with the metal cord and pulling the man forwards harshly. He stumbled forwards at the force of her strength, and she curled her fingers even tighter around the whip, creating tension before she push-kicked him hard in the chest, letting go at the same time. 

 

He flew backwards into a pile of debri, a wheel spinning beside him. She let the energy circuits flow, and his weaponry came back to life. It was too suspicious if she left them broken- especially when he made the weapons with such precision.

 

He grunted as he climbed back onto his feet, his eyes narrowed into a glare as he started spinning the whips once again, like two lasso’s ready to wrap around their throats. He threw his arm forwards, just as a sleek black car rammed into him.

 

Verfall heard the beeping before she saw it, launching herself onto the pavement as Stark jumped onto the fence behind him. She caught a glimpse of Happy driving, Pepper in the backseat, holding a red and gold suitcase.

 

His suit.

 

Stark held onto the fence for a second longer, before jumping back to safe ground.

 

“Are you okay?!” Happy shouted.

 

“Were you heading for me or for him?” Stark replied rapidly.

 

Verfall watched them converse before she forced herself back to her feet. Her gaze shifted to the man, keeping her attention on the enemy. 

 

Happy and Stark were shouting back and forth now, with a hysterical Pepper in the backseat. She stepped over towards the trio as the man’s weaponry started to power up. She clenched her jaw, lunging at Stark as he opened the back door. Half of it was immediately burned.

 

The pair tumbled onto the ground and Verfall kept a hand on Stark’s shoulder. Uncertainty was the first thing she noticed between his eyes.

 

“Fuckin- just- get to your suitcase.” She snapped.

 

Stark’s eyes moved to her arm, where the heated metal had managed to melt through her uniform, revealing a bruising bloody mess- which was healing too fast. She drew her arm back, and jerked her head towards the car.

 

He pulled himself to his feet. 

 

Happy drew the car back with minimum expertise, then brought it forwards, ramming it back into the man. 

 

“I got him!” Happy cried and Tony enthusiastically waved his arms.

 

“Hit him again! Hit him again!” He shouted. 

 

Happy moved as fast as possible, hitting him once again as Pepper tried to hand Tony the case. 

 

“Give him the case!” Happy hollered.

 

“Stop banging the car!” Pepper screeched.

 

The man threw his whips forwards, and the car split in half. He moved again and Verfall swung herself onto the trunk, spinning over and grabbing the passenger door where Pepper was. She pulled it open and drew the woman out of the mangled vehicle.

 

She stumbled and Verfall pulled her close to her chest as the other half of the car sliced open. 

 

“Stay right here.” Verfall ordered firmly.

 

Pepper managed to nod.

 

She narrowed her eyes at the bloodied man, before grabbing, watching him struggle as Tony tried to reach for the case. Verfall let out a long breath, throwing herself into the vehicle and tossing the suitcase at Stark’s feet.

 

She hissed at the burning sensation in her hand. She’d forgotten the fact she’d grabbed the whip.

 

Stark kicked a button on the side of the case. Metal plates started to expand outwards, opening to reveal a thin inner skeleton, coated only in silver aluminum. He stepped into the suit, grabbing two metal handles and twisting them upwards to bring it to his chest. Steel expanded outwards and his arc reactor glowed.

 

Verfall stood to her feet, ducking her head as she rushed to Pepper’s side. The strawberry blonde let out a shaky breath and Verfall robotically moved to calm her down, bringing her to sit on the pavement against the steel barrier.

 

Terrified shouts turned into cheers as Stark stepped forwards, fully suited and looking more like Iron Man than anyone else. She’d never seen him suited before. Her eyes shifted back to the enemy as Stark kicked the car to the side, bringing Happy to safety.

 

He faced the man and his arm powered up, just as a whip slammed into his arm. Stark tried to power up again but the man reacted just the same. Verfall focused on the electricity, on the buzzing energy at the center of the enemy’s chest. She started to move the molecules, slowing them, letting it fizz. She kept her hand behind Pepper’s back, twisting them slightly with white energy caressing her fingertips.

 

One of the whips wrapped around Stark’s arm, the other curling over his neck. He pulled harshly and Stark went flying, slamming into the ground.

 

“Come on.” She muttered to herself as the burning whips started to flicker.

 

Stark slammed into the car Happy was still seated in, hitting the ground with a thud. Verfall abruptly stopped her movements, the white tendrils around her hands disappearing.

 

He was using the electricity from the enemy’s weaponr to power his own.

 

He wrapped himself with the whips, and Verfall sat back as relief pooled into her stomach.

 

“He’s fine.” She assured Pepper who watched with horror.

 

Stark punched the man, throwing him over his shoulder. He slammed into the ground with a painful crack. Then Stark grabbed the power source and brought it up to his face to inspect it. There was an adamant amount of anger in his movements as he crushed the arc reactor, technology which only he was meant to possess.

 

The crowd continued to cheer as a SWAT team rushed forwards, grabbing ahold of the man and pulling him away.

 

The man spat blood, and he started to laugh maniacally. Verfall helped Pepper to her feet as they approached Stark.

 

“You- You lose!” He exclaimed as they dragged him away. “You lose. You lose, Stark.”

 

Verfall let go of Pepper, taking a step forward.

 

“Tы проиграл.” 

 

You lost.

 

She spoke calmly, Russian familiar on her tongue.

 

His eyes moved to her with surprise. His laughing seized for a moment as he stared into the eyes of a person with no soul.

 

“Tы проиграл.”

 

You lost.

 

She repeated, her lips curling upwards into a forbidding grin.

 

He was a threat to her mission, and nothing lived long enough to remain a threat. 

 

Nothing.

Chapter 78: Seventy Seven

"I get lost in pretending to be human.”

???, Monaco

May, 2010

STARK GRABBED HER ARM, EVADING the ambulance and press, who tried to fight their way through the armored guards set around the entrance to the locker rooms. Pepper and Happy followed immediately after, joined by Natalia who’d slipped around the guards. He stalked forwards with purpose and Verfall managed not to trip over her feet as she followed after him. Her heart bubbled with panic- he wasn’t happy, whether it was because of her or the enemy. 

 

He wasn’t happy and he was going to punish her, wasn’t he?

 

Her breath came out in short, quick, stutters as they entered the locker room, door slamming shut before Pepper, Happy or Natalia could enter. If they were taken aback by the motion, none of them protested outside of the door. Stark turned on his feet, stepping towards one of the lockers before his suit dispersed, metal pulling away from his arms and falling back into the form of a tidy suitcase.

 

He exhaled loudly, putting one hand on his hip, the other running over his face. 

 

Verfall swallowed the anxiety climbing up her spine.

 

“You okay?” He finally asked, genuine concern in his gaze as he approached her.

 

She flinched instinctively and Stark drew his hand back immediately. He opened his mouth, then shut it. He drew closer slower this time, pushing his hands into his pockets. The worry in his eyes was still there, brighter, as he stopped a foot in front of her.

 

“You- uh- you here with me right now?” He asked.

 

Verfall inhaled deeply. 

 

Her mind hadn’t wandered, and she wasn’t dissociating. She was still functional, though her arm still ached like a deep cut with a bruising grip tight around her skin. Her breathing grew normal and she let her shoulders slump, tension leaving her bones.

 

She nodded sharply once. 

 

“Your arm- can I?” He questioned and Verfall moved without really moving, lifting her arm with a pained grimace.

 

He tore the barely hanging sleeve away from her forearm, stitching snapping as he did so. He drew his lips inward with uncertainty as the bloody mess glared up at him with full force. 

 

Verfall let her eyes shift to the wound. 

 

The boils around her skin had faded, although a deep cut could still be seen. The flesh was having a difficult time stitching around the pieces of metal that’d lodged itself into her muscle. The bone couldn’t be seen, so she supposed she should be grateful for the little things. 

 

Stark removed the glove from his hand with his teeth, throwing the fabric to the floor as his fingertips gently brushed around the swelled skin.

 

He started walking backwards, towards the sink jutting out of the wall. She followed, her arm still in his calloused hand as he turned the water on. He held his hand under the water, until it wasn’t too cold or too hot, just a neutral temperature.

 

“This might hurt.” He warned. “You ready?”

 

Verfall cleared her throat.

 

“Yes.” Her voice sounded like a bag of sand grating against shards of glass. 

 

Stark looked a little less worried, now that she was speaking.

 

He scooped some of the water in his palm and gently spilled it over the wound. Verfall didn’t make a sound, remaining indifferent as the blood and metal trickled into the sink. The liquid fell in rivulets down her skin, creating paths with no real reason. 

 

Once the blood turned pink and the sink drew clear, the boils around her skin could barely be identified, the cut still deep but the blood clotted.

 

“You heal fast.” Stark mentioned as he turned the water off.

 

Verfall blinked profusely. She pulled her arm away.

 

“I do.” She agreed quietly.

 

Her eyes flicked to the bloodied cut on his cheek.

 

“Maybe you should-?” She said and he opened his mouth before closing it.

 

He turned to the sink and splashed his face with water.

 

Verfall found an unused towel, folded neatly in a stack. She handed it to him as he wiped his face, gently caressing the cut on his cheek.

 

“The arc reactor.” Stark suddenly said. “He had. It wasn’t broken.”

 

He lifted his gaze to her. There was a sternness in them now, mixed with caution and unsureness. Stark was calm and collected- he always was- and he was good at it. Verfall didn’t notice any perplexion because he’d hid it with expertise.

 

She bit her tongue. She’d done what she did to protect Stark, but, well, she’d put herself in a situation, didn’t she?

 

“You should have electric burns, shocks- no, you shouldn’t even have an arm. But they broke, if you could call it that, when he tried to hit you.” He put his hands on his hips. “What did you do? How did you do it?”

 

He hesitated.

 

“Who are you?”

 

Droplets of water splashed against the sink, plop, plop.

 

Verfall remained silent for a few tense seconds, Stark’s eyes trained on her with pristine focus. She finally sighed, looking up to him. Her heart threatened to break at the words that left her lips.

 

“My name is Lucia, that part isn’t a lie.” It was. “Nor did I really ever lie.” She did. “There's no right way for me to say this but I’m- I’m enhanced.” She paused, gaging Stark’s reaction.

 

His expression remained as neutral as possible though he looked reasonably surprised, a multitude of questions curling on his tongue. 

 

“So. . .” He cleared his throat. “You’re like what, magical? Like Wanda and Cosmo?”

 

She had no idea what that was, shrugging instead.

 

“Not magical. . .but- there was an accident. I was at a chemical plant with Don Bruno. We had a meeting and things didn’t go as planned.” It was a lie. They were just lies. “It’s why I left the mafia in the first place. They think I’m dead.”

 

Stark stared at her, attempting to decipher whatever lies she was trying to present. She kept her eyes on his, refusing to give him any hint on the lies she’d spewed without much struggle. After a second she held her arm forwards again, letting him get a clear view of her wound which was looking more like a thin paper cut.

 

His eyes roamed over the injury, then back at her.

 

“I can do more things than this, like technological malfunctions, but I’ve used all the energy I had on that man.” Another terrible lie.

 

 She could see the moment he finally believed her.

 

“Well, at least we both know each other’s secrets now, yeah?” Tony smiled.

 

There was so much exhaustion in that smile, so much defeat in his eyes. It hurt to see it- it hurt that Verfall would be the cause of it once this was all over, once she disappeared and he’d have to realize she was lying. She’d probably be gone before he died- the mission couldn’t take that long. 

 

And it was possible he wouldn’t really die- maybe there was a cure to whatever sickness he had, something he’d yet to discover.

 

“Yeah.” She agreed. 

 

Stark stared at her, and she stared back.

 

“Pepper’s probably worried out of her mind.” She finally said, turning on her feet.

 

“Right.” Stark replied as he quickly followed behind her.

 

She slowed to switch their places, stepping behind him as he pulled the door open. Pepper and Happy turned around in an instant, worry flickering between both their eyes.

 

“You okay?” Pepper exclaimed, observing Stark’s face. 

 

He reassured her and Verfall let out a soft breath as Pepper and Happy helped him down the hall. Natalia fell in step beside her as they followed the trio, and the redhead grasped her forearm. Verfall blinked.

 

Natalia’s hands were soft as she inspected the wound, her eyes flitting over it before she gently let go. Verfall kept her gaze ahead of her as they turned into another hall, one leading to the garage.

 

“Your arm.” She muttered quietly, her brows furrowed, mumbling something unintelligible.

 

Verfall waited for her to continue, but she seemed to be stuck in a thousand-yard stare, there but not really there, just like Winter had many times. She was somewhat aware of where she walked as they approached a pair of cars. 

 

“This one!” Stark said, patting the roof of one of the cars as he looked back to Verfall.

 

“Fancy.” She remarked and Stark rolled his eyes.

 

Pepper and Happy entered the car besides there’s, and Stark put a hand on Happy’s shoulder before he could fully enter.

 

“Stay safe.” He said in a solemn tone.

 

Verfall raised an eyebrow as Stark stepped away from the car as Happy drove out of the parking lot, turning down the cement and travelling onto the street. Stark spun on his heel, looking at her and Natalia before pulling open the front door and slipping inside.

 

He held up a peace sign before shutting the door.

 

Verfall glanced at Natalia who rolled her eyes at Stark’s antics.

 

“Come on.” She beckoned.

 

Verfall seated herself in the back as Natalia took the passenger’s seat besides Stark.

 

His hands were loose around the steering wheel as he reversed, pulling out of the parking lot and turning out of the garage.

 

Soft R&B music reverberated throughout the vehicle and Verfall found herself staring out the window, leaning her chin against her palm as she watched both reporters and fans dissipate. The commotion with Iron Man was over- now they were probably worried about getting themselves home.

 

She wished she could, really, not that anywhere was home. 

 

Natalia was quiet for a while, and Stark remained silent. Whatever he was thinking was clearly more important than keeping small talk. She supposed that made sense. Technology that only Stark claimed to have possessed was no longer his, or well, only his. 

 

“We should spar.” Natalia suddenly said. “I saw you fighting on the live feed, before it cut out. I think it’d be interesting to try.”

 

Verfall shifted her gaze to Natalia, who was staring back at her. Her lips tilted upwards into a friendly smile- something genuine. Natalia mirrored the motion and Verfall turned her head to gaze out the window again.

 

Hope flared in her chest.

 

Maybe Natalia was remembering- maybe she hadn’t been permanently scarred and was able to salvage flashes- images- something. 

 

Natalia might know her, remember a time before- and that was- it was asking for a lot. 

 

But miracles happen, don’t they?

 

She stomped the little flames out to keep her mind set on the mission, to keep herself neutral and retain a more stable state. It didn’t matter if Natalia remembered her or not. She was here for a reason, and that reason wasn’t to meet or make new friends.

 

Friends. 

 

What a laughable statement.

 

“Where are we going, Tony?” She questioned, her eyes still focused on the buildings flying by.

 

“Happy said they’ve put the man in a nearby prison, patch him up I guess.” He said, his voice drier than she’d ever heard. “I thought we could give him a little visit- Natalie you can take this baby and buy me some donuts, help yourself while you’re at it.”

 

Even his attempt to sound amusing was pathetic. 

 

He turned, using one hand to spin the wheel and Natalia smiled.

 

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

 

The jail was dark- Verfall shivered the moment she entered the building. It was tenebrous, the walls a dull gray. The ceiling was lit only by a little light spaced every few feet, exuding an ominous glow across the walls, not quite reaching the surface but not quite evading them either. 

 

There was something disturbing in the air- something that reminded her of screams and beatings and begging. It made her chest grow cold, her eyes wary, her posture impeccable. She remained close to Stark as they were greeted by several police officers and those in higher command.

 

She inspected them warily.

 

None of them were HYDRA. She didn’t know if that made this situation any worse, or any better.

 

“Mr. Stark-“ the officer had to cut himself off to catch up with Stark’s brisk pace as they were escorted to the man’s holding cell, “- Mr. Stark, J'ai vérifié ses empreintes. On n'a rien retrouvé, pas même son nom.”

 

We ran his prints. We got nothing back, not even a name.

 

Stark continued with his brisk pace, too determined to give the man any time to explain more than he could.

 

“Où allons-nous?”

 

Where are we going?

 

Stark questioned and Verfall rolled her eyes at him.

 

He was leading the group for God’s sake.

 

“Là-bas.”

 

Over there.

 

The officer guided them. 

 

Verfall kept her eyes forward, cold and somewhat blank.

 

“Nous ne sommes même pas sûrs qu'il parle anglais. Il n'a pas dit un mot depuis son arrivée.”

 

We’re not even sure he speaks english. He hasn’t said a word since he got here.

 

He continued.

 

Verfall turned to the officer, staring. He visibly shivered under her gaze and she tilted her head.

 

“Il le fera.”

 

He will.

 

She replied.

 

People like him were prone to boasting- whether it was due to anger or arrogance. He targeted Stark for a reason, and that reason wouldn’t lay dormant on his tongue. He wanted to make a statement- so he did- and he wasn’t done.

 

A man fond of theatrics could never remain silent.

 

“Cinq minutes.”

 

Five minutes.

 

Stark said as he came to a stop in front of a heavy duty metal door.

 

He stepped in tentatively, giving just enough room for her to enter, and for the door to close. Verfall’s eyes flicked over the man- he was littered with tattoos and several noticeable scars. He didn’t look very injured, though she assumed his ribs had several contusions.

 

She stepped around  Stark, her arms crossed over her chest. It was difficult to remain person-like, especially in the gloomy atmosphere.

 

Stark started stepping forwards, slow and steady.

 

The man’s head moved half an inch.

 

“Pretty decent tech. Cycles per second were a little low. You could have doubled up your rotations.” He drew closer and the man tilted his head back. “You focused the repulsive energy through ionized plasma channels. It’s effective, not very efficient.”

 

Verfall padded forwards, watching the man’s every move as she let her presence be known. The man’s eyes flicked to her for a second, before turning back to Stark.

 

“But it’s a passable knockoff.” He continued. “I don’t get it. A little fine tuning, you could have made a solid paycheck. You could have sold it to North Korea, China, Iran or gone right to the Black Market.”

 

The man nodded, his lips curling upwards into a smirk.

 

“You look like you got friends in low places.” 

 

The man tilted his head.

 

“You come from a family of thieves and butchers.” His voice was soft but grating, echoing within the cement cell. “And now, like all guilty men, you try to rewrite your own history. And you forget all the lives the Stark family has destroyed.”

 

His eyes glimmered like he was holding back tears that held incredulity- of an unfairness that was too improbable. 

 

“Speaking of thieves, where did you get this design?” Stark continued to question.

 

Verfall leaned against the wall, her eyes shifting over the enemy. It would be efficient to simply kill him where he sat, but she knew that would be impossible without raising suspicion. 

 

Oh and, Stark was in the room too.

 

“My father. Anton Vanko.” The man- Vanko, she supposed- replied smoothly.

 

Stark sat besides the man, frowning.

 

“Well, I’ve never heard of him.” He admitted bluntly.

 

Verfall let out a small breath. That must’ve been a wounding jab to Vanko’s pride.

 

“My father, is the reason you’re alive.” Vanko’s lips tilted upwards into a lopsided grin.

 

Stark shook his head in response. 

 

“The reason I'm alive is ‘cause you had a shot, you took it, you missed.” He threw his hands up.

 

Stark was an admirable man, don’t get her wrong, but even she could see Vanko had no intention to kill him. He could’ve done it in hundreds of ways- poison his drink, stab him in passing, disable his arc reactor, snipe him from above in the stadium. And he could’ve been discreet or not. 

 

There were so many different ways, and yet, Vanko had chosen to make a scene. She knew from personal experience that there was a reason behind that- behind a commotion, behind throwing bullets across the room for not being able to stop one.

 

She clenched her jaw.

 

They always had a reason.

 

“Did I?” Vanko paused. “If you can make God bleed, the people will cease to believe in him. And there will be blood in the water. And the sharks will come. The truth, all I have to do is sit here, and watch as the world will consume you.”

 

His smile only widened.

 

She despised the cockiness in that grin.

 

She stepped forwards, catching both of their attention. Vanko’s eyes narrowed and Verfall looked at her hand, inspecting her nails.

 

“Mира пытались. Но это не удалось. Это не может увенчаться успехом.”

 

The world has tried. But it has not succeeded. It cannot succeed.

 

She could see the vague surprise in Vanko’s eyes, less prominent than what it’d been when she first spoke russian. But it was still there as he inspected her.

 

“Ты ничего не сделал, кроме как оставил метку у себя на спине. Ты умрешь, так или иначе.”

 

You have done nothing but put a mark on your back. You will die, one way, or another.

 

She kept her tone flat, so Stark couldn’t decipher the threat.

 

“Это обещание?”

 

Is that a promise?

 

Vanko questioned with that cynical grin.

 

Verfall lifted her gaze from her nails, lowering her hand against her forearm. She pressed her lips into a thin line, staring at him, before her lips slowly curled downwards.

 

“Это правда.”

 

It’s the truth.

 

She tapped her fingers against her lips, eyes cold.

 

Stark looked at her, then back at Vanko, whose grin never wavered, as if he didn’t believe her. 

 

“Where will you be watching the world consume me from?” Stark finally said. “That’s right. A prison cell. I’ll send you a bar of soap.”

 

He stood to his feet.

 

“Hey Tony,” Vanko paused, “before you go, palladium in the chest, painful way to die.”

 

What.

 

She didn’t let surprise show in her eyes as her gaze flicked to Stark. He was already turning, padding towards the exit without giving the man a second glance.

 

He didn’t reply, instead knocking on the door.

 

Light entered the cell, and Verfall stepped around Vanko.

 

Stark was- 

 

“Я знаю тебя. Cлухов. Tы та кто несет смерти.”

 

I know you. Rumors. You are the one who brings death.

 

Verfall halted, her foot just a few inches off the ground. 

 

She let it fall silently.

 

Vanko wasn’t looking at her, his gaze focused on the wall ahead of him. A small tremor travelled through his body at her silence- at neither her agreement or denial.

 

“Я не намерен вмешиваться в дела смерти.”

 

I have no intention of interfering in the affairs of death.”

 

He tilted his head back.

 

Verfall smiled.

 

“Ты уже сделал это.”

 

You already did.

Chapter 79: Seventy Eight

"I’ve never met a strong person with an easy past.”

Malibu, California

May, 2010

VERFALL STARED AT THE CEILING in her bedroom, her phone ringing sharply against her desk. She exhaled loudly at the sound, letting the phone continue it’s incessant ringing. Her back was flat against the floor, her arms splayed wide like she was in the middle of making a snow angel. In her decision to protect Stark, she’d completely forgotten the dangers of camera’s, of what could see her- of who could see her.

 

And now they were talking about her over the news, a mysterious security guard who saved Monaco alongside Stark- which wasn’t true at all. 

 

Stark did most of the saving.

 

Her phone grew silent, and she let out another long breath, her nerves cooling, even as her stomach tumbled uncomfortably within her gut. It was the second time her phone had gone on ringing. She didn’t know if it was the Commander, Agent Rollins, or even Sasha. 

 

Sasha would’ve been watching the news as well. 

 

He would’ve seen her and. . .nothing good was waiting for her. Nothing at all. She’d already messed up and she was blatantly ignoring him-

 

Her phone started ringing again.

 

She finally drew herself upwards, sitting in a kneeling position with her hair failing into her face. She ran a hand over her forehead, eyes wet with muted resignation as she slumped onto her hands, reaching for her phone blindly. 

 

She grasped it and placed it beside her ear.

 

“Verfall.” 

 

She leaned against her desk, pulling her knees to her chest.

 

Her hands trembled around the device.

 

“Hello.” She couldn’t help the small quiver in her voice. “I’m sorry I meant to pick up but I didn’t- and I’m- scared. It was my fault- I um-“

 

She inhaled sharply, staring up at the ceiling.

 

She could hear his steady breathing on the other side.

 

“That’s okay, Verfall. I’m not upset. I’m going to give you until the Stark Expo. Just a few days, okay?” Sasha’s voice was soft and comforting, just as it always was. “Then you don’t need to think. You can go back to cryo. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

 

Verfall rubbed her temples, a mix of relief and terror swirling in her chest. He was either telling the truth, or telling a lie to give her a sense of security, until he’d meet her with consequences.

 

She sniffled.

 

“Yes.” She muttered. “I would.”

 

Verfall let out a soft breath, and a chuckle left Sasha’s lips.

 

“Good. Stay safe, Verfall. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He sounded worried, but Verfall knew better. “You know how much I care about you and Winter, don’t you?”

 

He was worried that his weapon would get damaged- he didn’t really care about who she was. If he did, she wouldn’t be Verfall. She’d be Lucy- as much as a person she could be- through and through, even if she’d be a torn tapestry. 

 

But she didn’t let herself ponder too much on the thought.

 

“Yes, Sandro.” She agreed smoothly, inhaling deeply. “I know.”

 

She could almost see the soft smile taking over his face, his eyes twinkling with something genuine- something that was rare, something that mattered. 

 

“Goodbye, Verfall.” He sounded pleased and Verfall supposed that mattered too.

 

“Ciao.” She spoke softly as the line went dead.

 

She tossed her phone back onto her bed, watching the little device bounce half an inch before returning back onto the blankets. She fell back against the floor, returning to her prior position. She kept her gaze focused on the ceiling.

 

Stark wouldn’t leave his lab unattended to, unless he decided to leave, but even then, he wouldn’t keep his lab unlocked. Verfall guessed the only time she had to infiltrate the room was during a commotion- something big. And she had to do all of that under Natalia’s prying eyes. 

 

Stark’s birthday was tomorrow, wasn’t it? 

 

She sat up so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. 

 

Stark’s birthday was tomorrow and Pepper was planning to throw something extravagant for him. Stark was going to be unhinged tomorrow, distracted by the crowd, the music, the drinks. And he had a history of alcohol abuse so it’d be a perfect opening to drag herself down to his lab and disable JARVIS. 

 

She stood to her feet, grasping a hair tie from her open suitcase, placing it between her teeth as she collected her hair at the base of her neck, tying the elastic loosely.

 

A pair of footsteps caught her attention and she lifted her head as Stark knocked on the inside of her room.

 

“Need your insight.” He announced at the doorway.

 

Verfall raised an eyebrow.

 

“When do you never?” She smirked.

 

Stark put a hand over his arc reactor.

 

Her eyes barely flicked over it.

 

“Ouch.” He pursed his lips. “You wound me.”

 

She rolled her eyes lightheartedly, stepping over to him before patting him on the shoulder.

 

“You’ll get used to it.” She cocked her head to the side. “What do you need me for?”

 

Stark turned down the hall, his footsteps quiet as she travelled beside him.

 

“It’s about this, ah- Anton Vanko.” His voice was still light. “He worked for the Soviets. Worked on a project to power some sort of chair.”

 

She frowned, a familiar cold unfurling from her stomach. 

 

There was only one chair she knew would need the immense power of an arc reactor, and she wasn’t exactly fond of seeing or learning who made the Chair- the torturous object that took everything from her, from James even though he couldn’t remember. 

 

There was only so much anger she could bury before it imploded- or worse, exploded. 

 

“A chair?” She questioned, remaining oblivious. “Why would they need to power a chair?”

 

Stark shrugged.

 

“Beats me. I can’t find the schematics, so I was hoping you could draw them.” He said.

 

Verfall furrowed her eyebrows.

 

“Can’t you?” She questioned.

 

He let out a long sigh.

 

“I tried. Kind of. I haven’t gotten very far.” He admitted.

 

They stepped down the small flight of stairs leading to the glass door lab. JARVIS unlatched the door as it recognized Stark’s face. She waved in greeting at the little camera as she entered behind him. 

 

She was immediately attacked by DUM-E who squealed and clicked happily, their hand rotating like they were tilting their head back and forth. She reached forwards, gently patting the top of them.

 

“Someone’s excited to see ya.” Stark chuckled, before beckoning her towards one of his many collected vehicles. “Over here.”

 

She stepped away from DUM-E, padding over towards Stark.

 

He opened the passenger seat door, exaggeratedly bowing as she took her seat. She shot him a vaguely amused look as he stepped around the front of the car and lowered himself beside her. The glass screen in front of them brightened, photos flickering over the surface and twisting from one side to the other. 

 

Verfall’s eyes locked onto several newspaper clippings, revealing Anton Vanko to be a Soviet Physicist who defected to America, then returned back to his home country. 

 

Stark cleared his throat.

 

“JARVIS,” he called, “bring up the image, then what I‘ve got.”

 

“Of course, sir.” JARVIS replied. “I must warn you, Ms. Bastiani, Mr. Stark’s line work may be a bit messy.”

 

Stark looked appalled.

 

“Are you insulting me?” He questioned.

 

There was a pause as two large images flickered on screen.

 

“No, sir.” If British robot voices could produce a sound of sarcasm, JARVIS managed to hit the point right on spot.

 

Verfall’s lips twitched upwards at the AI, before they dropped into a flat line as she examined the blue prints Stark was in the middle of drawing, and the chair itself. The chair didn’t look like the one HYDRA was so fond of putting James in. It looked incredibly sophisticated, smaller and made of metal, with leather straps instead of metal cuffs. The panels still remained above the chair, but there was only one computer besides the left side of the head.

 

She held her hand upwards and grabbed the image of the chair, turning it as her fingers registered. 

 

It amazed her how easy it was to pick up air that projected images, to hold them as if she could really feel it.

 

She examined the chair, then turned to the schematics Stark was drawing. There were wires twisting through the arm rests, and rising towards the panels. The arc reactor was drawn on the inside of the chair, glowing softly in the 3D projection. 

 

Her eyes shifted back to the chair.

 

She reached towards the screen, dragging her fingertips across the surface without really touching it. A line formed, and she carefully drew screws around the bottom of the chair, adding a floor.

 

“These-“ She pointed at the tiny black dots that were barely visible around the base of the chair “-are what keep the chair in place. And here-“

 

She grabbed the poorly sketched arc reactor, and dragged it to the very bottom of the chair, not inside it. Stark furrowed his eyebrows as he watched, tilting his head as she twisted the arc reactor so it was wired into the ground. 

 

Then she redrew the arm rests, erasing the wires and dragging them back through the back of the seat and up to the panels where his head would’ve been.

 

“So you think they’re powering the panels, like a CT scan?” Stark questioned.

 

Verfall nodded as she leaned back into the car.

 

“What did you think?” She inquired curiously.

 

Stark shook his head, pursing his lips.

 

“Thought it was more of an electric chair.” He admitted. “You know, like modern style beheading?”

 

Verfall stared back at the blueprint.

 

She didn’t know why the actual chair was made of metal. It was probably an earlier prototype, if she was being honest. Pristine but deadly. But it was a prototype, which meant it might just be an inner-skeleton.

 

She turned the image, then pushed it back into the surface, letting the image save. Stark hummed as he turned the image himself.

 

“You’re not wrong,” she agreed, “but I just think it’s more in Anton Vanko’s skill range if the electricity came from a focal point, surging all at once. Not everyone’s sophisticated enough to harness reactor energy equally like you, Stark.”

 

Stark didn’t have the heart to grin cockily as he nodded in muted agreement.

 

They stared at the screen for some time, before Stark placed a hand over his arc reactor and looked pained. She looked him over with confusion, watching as his expression contorted, before growing flat. She hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

He didn’t respond.

 

She pulled her hand away, and kept an eye on him rather than the screen. 

 

She heard the sound of footsteps soon after. She didn’t turn when the lab door opened, instead, moving her eyes on the chair that would become the Chair. She felt something burn in her chest, and it took a few seconds before she realized it was the burning desire for revenge. She wanted to kill Anton Vanko’s son. 

 

Her eyes scanned the newspaper clippings.

 

She wanted to kill Ivan Vanko.

 

She shut her eyes, letting out a loose breath. She didn’t want to kill anyone, she never did.

 

“Tony, you gotta get upstairs and get on top of this situation right now.” 

 

Verfall tilted her head back, observing the man who entered. He was dark-skinned, had a sharp but fair face, chocolate eyes looking genuinely annoyed. She recognized him as James Rhodes ‘Rhodey’, as Stark put it.

 

He gazed at her for a second, before looking at Stark again.

 

“Listen, I’ve been on the phone with the National Guard all day,” Rhodey continued, “trying to talk them out of rolling tanks up the PCH, knocking down your front door and taking these. They’re gonna take your suits, Tony, okay? They’re sick of the games.”

 

He paused for a second, staring at the back of Stark’s head.

 

She turned back to the screen.

 

Stark looked dazed and conflicted. 

 

A thought had come across his mind and he was stuck. He was stuck.

 

“You said nobody else would possess this technology for 20 years. Well, guess what? Somebody else had it yesterday.” He breathed sharply. “It’s not theoretical anymore.”

 

Stark remained unresponsive and Verfall glanced at him. Worry flickered between her eyes- she was worried for Stark?

 

“Are you listening to me?” Rhodey approached and Verfall stiffened.

 

This was Stark’s friend, she reminded herself, not an enemy, even if he looked like a military officer. He placed a hand on Stark’s shoulder, and he looked up at him.

 

“Are you okay?” Rhodey leaned down to look him eye to eye.

 

There was no malice in the look.

 

Verfall relaxed as Stark let out a soft grunt.

 

“Let’s go.” He said quietly, his gaze shifting to Verfall. “Wanna step out?”

 

That was an order.

 

Verfall swiftly slipped out of the car, keeping the passenger door open. Stark stepped out of the vehicle and almost immediately collapsed. She caught him before he could hit the ground, followed by Rhodey who rushed forwards to support his other side.

 

“Hey, hey.” Rhodey said with surprise. “You all right?”

 

Stark nodded.

 

“Yes, I should get to my desk.” He grimaced, his face turning red as if he was short of breath. “Lucia, the desk- get to it.”

 

Verfall hesitantly let go of Stark, letting Rhodey take his weight before quickly stepping towards the steel table. She pulled open the drawers, her eyes flickering over the multitude of equipment.

 

She could see his computer system in her peripheral vision. Her heart twisted inside of her chest as she caught sight of the USB port. Easy access- she just had to get Zola’s AI drive into the computer. JARVIS would notice, but as long as Zola disable him long enough- stop him from alerting Stark. . .

 

“See the cigar box?” Stark gasped.

 

“Yes.” Verfall replied smoothly.

 

“It’s palladium.” H stumbled over with Rhodey, who helped him to his chair.

 

Verfall pulled the cigar box open and halted at the palladium chips in perfect rectangular pieces. Rhodey took one of them as Stark detached his arc reactor from his chest. She blinked, suppressing a grimace as a few wisps of smoke rose from the sphere. 

 

Another palladium piece exited the arc reactor and Rhodey watched with a frown.

 

“If you must know,” his eyes flitted between them, “it’s neutron damage. It’s from the reactor wall.”

 

Rhodey took the reactor from him, and Verfall grabbed the palladium piece from the center. It was half melted. She realized, then, what Ivan had meant. Palladium rose blood toxicity level- she would know from personal experience. But Stark didn’t have a magical serum to make his blood merge with poison.

 

He was going to die.

 

It was ironic too- the arc reactor was supposed to keep him alive, yet it was killing him at the same time.

 

“You had that in your body?” Rhodey cringed as he took the palladium chip from her hand.

 

His eyes moved to Stark’s neck.

 

“And how about the high-tech crossword puzzle on your neck?” He questioned.

 

Verfall followed his gaze. She’d noticed it before, in passing. She hadn’t thought it was that big of a deal. Clearly, it was.

 

“Road rash.” Stark lied easily, though Rhodey clearly didn’t believe him.

 

Stark took the arc reactor back from Rhodey’s hand before his body could go into further cardiac arrest. He pressed it back into his chest, letting it click in place. Verfall leaned back against the desk, her stomach bubbling with relief.

 

He let out a sigh of relief as his breathing returned to normal. He turned to his table, and grasped his water bottle, which was filled with a dark liquid- he’d been drinking that a lot, lately.

 

“What are you looking at?” Stark stared ahead of him.

 

Rhodey leaned against the steel table.

 

“I’m looking at you. You wanna do this whole lone gunslinger act, and it’s unnecessary. You don’t have to do this alone.” He glanced at Verfall who only shrugged in response.

 

“You know, I wish I could believe that.” Stark turned back. “I really do. But you’ve gotta trust me. Contrary to popular belief, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

 

False bravado, Verfall noted.

 

Rhodey snorted quietly in disbelief, but he didn’t make it too obvious. 

 

Stark let out a long breath.

 

“Look, I’m trying. I’ve got Lucia here to back me up- you haven’t met her yet. Lucia Bastiani, my advisor, security- the likes.” The introduction felt off within the conversation, but Verfall didn’t question Stark’s antics as she held out her hand towards Rhodey.

 

He looked down at her, then back to her face, before grasping her palm and shaking.

 

“Colonel James Rhodes.” He introduced.

 

Verfall let a tense smile slip onto her face.

 

“I would say introductions are important but,” she turned back to Stark, “there are bigger things that need to be spoken of, Tony.”

 

Stark ran a hand through his hair. He looked at Rhodey, then Verfall.

 

“I’ve got it handled, Rhodey.” There was sincerity in his voice. “I do.”

 

Rhodey’s disbelief wavered.

 

“I hope you do, Tony. For our sake.” He said, his tone somehow gentle but sharp.

 

Stark nodded and Rhodey turned, walking out of the lab and back upstairs quietly. Stark exhaled loudly, and Verfall raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Not interested in telling your best friend, either?” She questioned.

 

Stark threw his hands in the air.

 

“Can’t.” He said honestly. “But I’ve got you, don’t I?”

 

Verfall pursed her lips.

 

“We’ve known each other for only a few weeks.”

 

Stark stared at her, then turned in his chair, looking at his computer screen. He inhaled deeply, leaning back.

 

“Well, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.” He replied smoothly.

 

There was something knowing in his tone- like he knew she wasn’t Lucia. Like he knew she was someone he knew, someone he only knew through stories from Peggy. It only made sense Peggy would be somewhat of an aunt to Stark. She’d been friends with Howard and after she died, and James died- after Steve died- she only had him.

 

But that wasn’t a plausible thought. 

 

Why would Stark even think that?

 

“Maybe.” She said softly. “Sleep well, Tony.”

 

He looked back at her.

 

His brows furrowed.

 

“You too.”

Chapter 80: Seventy Nine

"‘Impossible’ is a term the fearful use to convince themselves that the yearning in their heart is not worth fighting for.”

Malibu, California

May, 2010

THE CREAKING OF STARK’S IRON man suit was the only thing Verfall could hear amongst the lively crowd, cheers and shouts echoing around the living room of his Malibu mansion. Verfall stood at the entrance of the home, uncertain eyes flicking back and forth as she allowed guests into the building, checking their invitations.

 

All of them were either reporters, actors, or other inventors who simply wanted to have a good time. She didn’t really note their faces, letting them come and go as they pleased.

 

Verfall had two knives hidden in her combat boots, her phone pressed against her thigh. She let her eyes shift to the sports cars appearing and disappearing through valet parkers. 

 

She was waiting for someone, and her patience was slowly running thin. It wasn’t because she was impatient, by any means, but merely because the window she had to obtain information from Stark’s closed off lab was running thin. 

 

Pepper stepped past her and Verfall tapped her shoulder.

 

The CEO turned to look at her with a confused look. Verfall held her hand up to her lips, flicking her wrist as if she was drinking. Pepper grimaced at what she insinuated, and quickly entered the living room area.

 

Verfall waited a minute or so, before Rhodey appeared, stepping past her and reaching Pepper who had turned from the party as soon as she’d caught a glimpse of Stark’s unhinged state.

 

“I- I need to take a breather.” Pepper said breathlessly to Rhodey who frowned, concerned.

 

“What’s wrong?” He questioned.

 

The pair disappeared back to the living room area, and Verfall shifted her attention back to the entrance. She checked several more guest ID’s, before less and less started to trickle in. Her lips pressed into a thin line as another man stepped up the entrance.

 

He looked half-Irish, half-Cuban, a carefully styled beard clinging to his chin and looking reminiscent of an actor- Diego Luna. He looked familiar. Older, but familiar. The tension in her chest released as he held out his invitation card.

 

His name was Isaac Murphy, the man Commander Rumlow had promised to send. 

 

She handed the invitation back to him, smiling.

 

“Enjoy the party.” She said, stepping aside.

 

Agent Murphy looked at her with awe, like she was the celebrity here, and not Stark. There was admiration in his eyes, respect that no HYDRA agent had ever given her before. She tilted her head as he struggled to keep his excitement at a minimum.

 

“Oh my gosh, thank you.” He beamed at her, taking his hand out of his pocket and grasping hers.

 

She could feel a USB drive against her palm and she wondered if Agent Murphy was simply keeping up a facade.

 

So she was surprised when he continued to shake her hand, bubbly words leaving his lips as he went on about how awesome she’d looked on television and how he aspired to be as brave as her. It was too much for her brain to wrap around, and she gently cleared her throat to catch his attention.

 

She looked pointedly at her hand, then back to him, and he pulled back immediately, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.

 

She pocketed the USB, and Agent Murphy bounced on his feet for a few seconds, before joining the rest of the crowd, blending in quite well in his sleek suit.

 

The man was young for a HYDRA agent, she realized, but she didn’t let herself dwell on the pointless thought.

 

She turned on her heel and travelled down the hall, passing the crowd as Pepper approached Stark, Rhodey standing in the back with his arms crossed over his chest.

 

“She’s right,” Stark was travelling down the steps now, “the party’s over. Then again the party was over for me like, an hour and a half ago. The after-party starts in 15 minutes!”

 

Verfall paused in her tracks, turning to watch him as he addressed the crowd. Pepper was standing where he’d been prior, next to the DJ.

 

The crowd exploded into more cheers as Pepper shut her eyes slowly, barely passable as a blink as her lips pressed into a very, very thin line. Verfall caught sight of Rhodey’s face, pure disgust in his expression.

 

She turned her gaze back to Stark.

 

He was going to die, and no one knew.

 

He deserved to party, didn’t he?

 

“And if anybody, Pepper, doesn’t like it, there’s the door.” Stark grinned, pointing his suit towards the glass display of water.

 

Verfall’s eyes widened as a beam of light exploded from his suit, shattering the surface on impact. Water and glass shards splintered in every direction, but the crowd only cheered hysterically.

 

She could see the tension emanating from Rhodey as one of the girls threw a wine bottle in the air. Stark blasted it with his repulsors again and Rhodey nearly walked into her, stalking towards the lab with anger flicking between his eyes.

 

Verfall watched Stark explode another bottle of wine before hurriedly following after Rhodey.

 

He sped down the hall, footsteps loud and clacking. Verfall inhaled deeply as she pressed herself between a crevice in the hall- a pushed in closet door. She listened to Rhodey stomping downstairs, the lab door opening with a series of beeps. They each had different tones, and she remembered the sounds carefully.

 

Verfall held her breath as the lab door opened again, the sound of creaking metal and whirring plates exiting the room. She remained silent as Rhodey exited the lab with an iron helmet and a prototype suit with no red or gold- Stark’s signature colors.

 

She allowed him to walk past her before she slipped down the stairs to the lab.

 

She pressed in the password to the room, adrenaline thrumming through her veins. She let out a short breath as the door unlatched. DUM-E whirred to life and she patted him fondly for a second.

 

Then she turned, her eyes growing cold as she stepped briskly towards Stark’s desk, flipping the USB drive and inserting it into the small port on the side of the computer.

 

“Ms. Bastiani-“ JARVIS’s voice distorted as the AI overrode the entire system.

 

Verfall winced at the distress in his voice, but JARVIS wouldn’t remember anything in the next- she glanced at the time on the computer- five minutes.

 

“Initiate system?” The voice was distorted but it was uncannily familiar.

 

She inhaled sharply.

 

“Yes.” She replied.

 

Stark’s computer screens burst to life and she drew back sharply as bright green coding blurred into lines, taking the vague shape of Arnim Zola’s face. She schooled her expression, gazing at the surface.

 

“Verfall.” He greeted. “I am rewriting this AI’s memories as we speak. You need me to break through Stark’s firewalls as well, yes?”

 

Verfall blinked. 

 

She knew Dr. Zola wasn’t one to engage in small talk, but she also hadn’t expected him to get straight to the point. Actually, she didn’t know what to expect. The Dr. Zola she knew in ‘39 and ‘43 was drastically different from the one she knew in ‘58 and ‘63.

 

He’d changed. 

 

His mind and heart had hardened before he’d died.

 

“Yes, sir.” She replied.

 

Dr. Zola’s face contorted with displeasure and she held her breath.

 

“I am not your handler, Verfall.” He finally said. “You do not need to call me sir.”

 

Verfall cleared her throat.

 

“Apologies.” She muttered. “Can you see Stark’s blueprints?”

 

“I’ve broken the first firewall.” He replied.

 

Verfall moved her fingers to the keyless keyboard on his desk, the letters glowing to life. As her fingers tapped across the steel a loud crash reverberated above her, the roof shaking. She frowned- Stark and Rhodey must be fighting.

 

How long would they last? 

 

She ignored the questions- she’d be done before they finished. She fished a USB from her pocket, plugging it into the second slot. It clicked and she watched as images of Stark’s blueprints for parts of his iron suit appeared, primary parts that technicians could follow easily.

 

She swallowed unsurely as the pictures duplicated and moved from one folder to the next.

 

“You don’t approve.” Dr. Zola’s voice was neutral.

 

“The Weapon does not know how to approve or disapprove.” She recited automatically.

 

Her voice came out as defensive, a shield because that was what she was meant to say, and it was the correct answer. Always. Her eyes flicked back to the other monitor, where Dr. Zola’s face resided. She dropped her gaze to the steel table, continuing to aid him in breaking the second firewall.

 

“Yes you do, Lucy. You always disapprove.”

 

Her fingers came to a stop, freezing in place. Her eyes remained glued on the flat holographic keyboard.

 

“There are better ways to aid HYDRA.” She replied slowly, quietly. “This is unethical.”

 

She listened to the whirring of the computer, the sound effects of files moving from one place to another.

 

“And killing people isn’t?” Dr. Zola would’ve raised an eyebrow if he could.

 

She tried not to envision the look.

 

“Why do you patronize me?” She lifted her gaze, staring at his green shifting face. “I’m simply following orders.”

 

Dr. Zola’s head tilted on screen. 

 

“This mission in particular seems to offend you.” He noted.

 

Verfall’s lips twitched downwards into a scowl.

 

She preferred when Dr. Zola had said nothing but orders. Then it was easier to converse with him. She didn’t need to flip from one mindset to another- and now she did. She chewed on the inside of her lip.

 

“Seeing as I had a hand in killing Stark’s father-“ she started typing away again, frowning as the second firewall remained intact, “-I feel like this is personal. And Howard was important. He was a friend. He didn’t deserve to die, nor did his son need to be orphaned. They made us kill him.”

 

Dr. Zola let out a throaty sound. A chuckle, though it was hard to tell.

 

“Us?” He inquired.

 

Verfall stiffened.

 

“You know Winter and I are a package deal.” She replied. 

 

The second firewall fell, and she started to reconstruct it as if nothing had ever changed, leaving a tiny hole for Dr. Zola to enter and leave when needed. 

 

“I do.” He agreed. “But he isn’t here.”

 

She frowned. 

 

He didn’t need to remind her of the fact that Winter wasn’t here with her. That James wasn’t here. She was alone, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

 

“Because he’s recognizable.” She spoke as if it were the most obvious thing she’d ever said.

 

There was a pause.

 

“And you aren’t?” He questioned.

 

Verfall’s eyelid twitched as irritation brewed in her chest. 

 

“Why should I be? James was Stevie’s sidekick. And he wasn’t a woman.” She pursed her lips.

 

She didn’t want to have this conversation with him. But he’d only be unhappy if she remained silent and the last thing she wanted was for Sasha to hear complaints from a computer that embodied Dr. Zola.

 

If she tread with care, then she’d be safe. Then Dr. Zola would let her show an inkling of humanity and he’d be content.

 

“Agent Carter is remembered. She is honored and she was a woman.” Dr. Zola countered.

 

Ver- Lucy squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

 

“I’m German.” She said calmly. “I worked for the Nazi’s unwillingly- I worked for HYDRA unwillingly. Some people thought I was a spy. Others couldn’t trust me. But nobody cared about willing or the two letters in front of it. I don’t deserve recognition. I don’t deserve anything, not when I’ve become this.”

 

She breathed shakily.

 

“What do you want me to say? That I haven’t broken? That I’m too astounding to break? What- too intelligent?” She questioned. 

 

Dr. Zola didn’t respond and she clenched her jaw, eyes shifting to the screen as more blueprints moved, this time of tiny missiles, discrete ones that never missed their target.

 

“Everyone has a breaking point and I’ve reached mine.” She swallowed thickly. “I wouldn’t be able to function without orders. Before- well, it was similar. But now it’s absolute. I can’t live out here. This mission- this experience- has shown me- I’m a mess. Sasha wanted me to see it. I saw- I understand he wanted me to know.”

 

There was a flutter of desperation in her voice. She wanted to believe so hard what she was saying because Sasha tricked, but he never tricked like this, he never tricked her to this point. 

 

So he must’ve cared.

 

Not about her well-being or her mental state, she was sure of that like she was sure of air entering her lungs. But there was something within him that wanted her to keep living. And that mattered. It was a selfish reason but it still mattered. It mattered so it meant he cared about something in her or about her and that was enough.

 

No one ever cared anymore- only their handler did.

 

“I see they have.” Dr. Zola admitted.

 

Verfall exhaled deeply.

 

“Then we’re on the same page.” She responded.

 

There was another loud crash from above and Verfall’s eyes flicked back and forth warily. She focused on the sounds, blocking out the whirs of the lab, and listening attentively to the suits fighting above.

 

She heard something power up- then-

 

She dug her ankles into the ground so hard she almost broke through the flooring. The ground tremorred, shaking like an earthquake as an explosion went off above her. She heard glass shatter loudly, then complete silence.

 

“The third firewall-“ Dr. Zola started.

 

“Can be broken at a later time.” Verfall replied. “Goodbye, Arnim.”

 

Dr. Zola’s image blurred, shifting.

 

“Business you have to attend to.” He noted. “Goodbye, Verfall.”

 

She removed both USB drives at the words, slipping both of them into her pocket and adjusting the sleeves to her black combat shirt. She quickly exited the lab, just as JARVIS started to boot up again. 

 

If Dr. Zola did his job right, then Stark would be oblivious.

 

A part of her hoped he failed. She didn’t know if that was what she truly wanted though.

 

She didn’t really know what she wanted anymore.

 

She stepped up the stairs in intervals of three as she turned sharply down the hall towards the entrance. When she came across the main living room her footsteps came to a stop. Light fixtures were barely hanging onto the ceiling. There was a gaping hole above, the glass blown out, the fireplace torn.

 

The patio area was reduced to pieces. 

 

Cars were swerving out of the parking lot and towards the main road, trying their best to escape the chaos Stark had created. 

 

Stark was laying in the mess, against the wall, the arc reactor to his suit blinking. She glanced outside- she could see a small crowd of people who were too curious to leave. A few reporters, Happy, Pepper- Natalia. Their gaze shifted to her and she turned back to gaze at Stark.

 

His iron helmet moved towards her.

 

“Tony.” She greeted softly.

 

The helmet opened, revealing Stark’s face.

 

“I-“ his eyes flicked around the demolished room “- I can explain.”

 

He wasn’t lucid enough, Verfall decided, and she moved closer, grabbing ahold of his arm and pulling it over her shoulder.

 

“You don’t need to.” She replied. “I understand.”

 

Stark gave her an odd look.

 

“You do?”

 

She tilted her head side to side as she walked down the hall towards his room, disappearing from view. He stumbled beside her.

 

“Well, I’ve had my fair share of near death experiences.” She admitted.

 

For some reason, it made Stark let out a sound of bubbly laughter. Oh yes, he was still most certainly drunk. 

 

“You fell off a cliff, right?” He giggled.

 

“I-“ what.

 

She stumbled over her own feet and they nearly toppled towards the ground. 

 

She caught her balance, composing herself as she entered his room. There was a huge king sized bed in the center of the plain bedroom, and she carefully dropped him onto it. He sunk, rolling over once as he looked up to the ceiling.

 

“Aunt Peggy, used to say. Lucy died a valiant death, by trying to save Bucky Barnes.” He grinned with his teeth, before rolling over and pressing his face into the mattress. 

 

Verfall stared at him.

 

She blinked, turning Stark over before he could suffocate himself. His eyes were shut, exhaustion written all over his face. He let out a small snort- he was snoring.

 

Something brumous settled in her chest, like a cube of ice melting away, only to reform into something colder.

 

What did Stark really know?

 

And most importantly-

 

Did he believe it?

 

Chapter 81: Eighty

"You haven’t tried everything. No one has.”

Malibu, California

May, 2010

VERFALL PURSED HER LIPS, HANDS on her hips as she gazed up at the glaring sun. She’d gone to her room for merely ten minutes- she found it ridiculous if she wore a sleek combat getup at a donut shop- and Stark had completely disappeared from the mansion. She had assumed he’d gone to boot up one of the cars, but no. He’d taken one of his suits and flown to Randy’s Donuts. 

 

Now she was here, a BMW parked to the left of her as she stared nearly into the sun, where Stark was seated at the center of a donut, metal shimmering off gold and red aluminum. He had a box of donuts in his hands as he chewed on one covered in icing.

 

She waved her hand at him and Stark glanced down for a second, before promptly grabbing a donut and tossing it at her face. She sighed, catching the dessert before it could hit the ground. She inspected it. As soon as her face got close to the sugary confection, she was disgusted by how sickeningly sweet it smelled. 

 

She’d been surviving off of alcohol- courtesy of Stark- saltines, and takeout soup. Some days she ate nothing. Her body was used to it, although the absence of hydrating IV drips had been a momentary problem before she drank her problems away- not that she had a single problem to focus on.

 

She had too many.

 

Then there was the whole drug situation. She was sure they shot her up with too much of whatever drug they thought was necessary for her to function properly. It loosened her mind, let it dislodge a bit so she’d be more docile. 

 

At least they tried.

 

And she hadn’t been on it for two weeks- now going three. She wasn’t feeling any different, so she supposed that was a plus. 

 

But, back to the problem at hand- or well, literally in her hand. She kept the donut between her fingers, before holding it back up to Stark, facing the devilish sun once again.

 

Stark merely pushed his sunglasses back over his face, before turning and grabbing another donut, eating it heartily.

 

“Tony!” She called.

 

He let out a loud huff, looking down at her again.

 

“We should talk.” She said.

 

Stark rolled his eyes at her words, turning back to his donuts and taking another huge bite. 

 

The icing on the donut in her hand was starting to get all over her fingertips and she sighed. It was goddamn tempting to try the sweet in her hand, even if she could barely tolerate the smell.

 

It was something she’d enjoyed when she was younger. Something she’d seen the STRIKE team devour whenever they had enough time to buy a box of donuts. They never voluntarily gave them to Winter or her, since it wasn’t allowed, although the rules didn’t seem to apply to Sasha or Volya.

 

Her eyes shifted to the scar at the center of her palm, now tiny and nearly unnoticeable. She flipped her hand over, caressing the other side of the cut with her gaze. She hadn’t seen him since. She wondered if it was residual guilt for losing his temper when he’d always promised he wouldn’t. 

 

He’d broken it once, and now he was keeping himself away from her because he didn’t want to break it again.

 

Was that out of good morality? Or was it just to keep his guilt at bay?

 

Verfall supposed it was different that he felt guilty at all.

 

“Sir! I’m gonna have to ask you to exit the donut!”

 

Verfall turned, donut still in hand as a man in a dark trench coat stood forebodingly behind her. He had an eyepatch covering his left eye, just the top and bottom of a scar peeking out from beneath.

 

Stark raised an eyebrow, lowering his sunglasses again.

 

He seemed to recognize him as he finally shut his donut box, his helmet dropping to cover his face. His suit burst to life as he exited the donut, slowly lowering himself to the ground. He landed with a metallic thud beside Verfall, who placed her donut on top of his box, shaking her hand as if it’d get the icing off.

 

Stark stared at her, his helmet opening.

 

“Really?” He protested. “You don’t like donuts?”

 

She shrugged in response.

 

“I have preferences.” She replied.

 

Stark rolled his eyes, before the pair entered the shop itself. It was mostly empty, only a cashier or two working behind the counter. The man with the eye patch was looking at both of them from a booth, beckoning them towards the table with a raise of an eyebrow and a tiny tilt of his head.

 

Stark groaned with annoyance, sauntering over towards him. He paused in front of the booth and Verfall huffed as she slipped into the inner seat. He plopped down beside her, putting his donut box down and detaching his helmet from his suit.

 

He placed it down with a clank.

 

“Coffee?” The man with the eyepatch questioned.

 

Stark leaned his head against his hand.

 

“Fine, sure.” He nodded. “You want anything, Lucia?”

 

Verfall blinked, then shook her head. 

 

She was unnerved by the stranger’s presence, especially with the way he was seemingly deciphering every move she made, every noise she produced. She couldn’t help but wonder who he was.

 

“Alright, great.” Stark turned his head towards the cashier. “Two medium coffees please!”

 

It was almost arrogant, if it weren’t for the tiredness in his voice. The cashier who was dressed fully in black,saluted Stark in response, turning to grasp two cups of coffee. 

 

Verfall locked eyes with the man across from her and he stared back relentlessly. She didn’t say anything, and he didn’t either. Silence settled, until Stark shifted back. He noticed the tension slowly rising in the atmosphere.

 

“Oh, this is Lucia Bastiani, my advisor and the best, probably ever, babysitter on the planet. Not that I’m a baby- because I’m not.” Stark introduced. “Lucia, this is Mr. Pirate, otherwise known as Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD, peacekeeping peeps.”

 

Verfall gave Stark a small roll of her eyes before holding a hand out towards the man.

 

SHIELD were peacekeepers.

 

She’d never been informed of the organization, not by HYDRA. HYDRA had simply integrated into the American government- they’d managed to grow within the executive and legislative branches. 

 

So whatever this SHIELD was? It was something HYDRA would want to get rid of.

 

The man- Fury- took her hand and shook it firmly.

 

“It’s nice to meet you Ms. Bastiani. Mafia, correct?” He said.

 

Verfall’s smile became wry.

 

“Yes. It’s nice to meet you, Director Fury.” She pulled her hand away, letting it sit back on her thigh.

 

She leaned back into her booth as Director Fury continued to inspect her. Stark let out a loud yawn as he tiredly wiped his eyes behind his sunglasses. Verfall watched Director Fury through her peripheral vision. Just like Stark, she suspected he knew more about her than he let known.

 

Their coffees came rather quickly, and Stark picked up the warm cup, bringing it to his lips. He sighed as he placed it back down.

 

“I told you, I don’t wanna join your super-secret boy band.” Stark frowned.

 

Verfall glanced out the window, feeling as though she was intruding on their conversation.

 

Director Fury let out a small chuckle, followed by a little smile.

 

“No, no, no. See, I remember, you do everything yourself.” Director Fury picked up his coffee, waving it at Stark. “How’s that working out for you?”

 

He brought the cup to his lips, taking a long sip.

 

“It’s- it’s- it’s-” Stark sighed, picking up his coffee cup “-I’m sorry. I don’t wanna get off on the wrong hook. Do I look at the patch or the eye?”

 

A chuckle escaped Verfall’s lips before she could stop it and Stark’s smile grew just a bit wider, eyes twinkling.

 

“Honestly, I’m a bit hungover.” Stark admitted as he pulled his sunglasses down. 

 

“That’s why I was going to order some Wonton soup, or Kimchi stew.” Verfall sounded genuinely exasperated as she spoke. “But you chose to come to a donut shop.”

 

Stark groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He decided to ignore her comment as he looked back at Director Fury.

 

“I’m not sure if you’re real or if I’m having. . .” He motioned with his hand and Director Fury leaned forwards.

 

“I am very real.” He said. “I’m the realest person you’re ever gonna meet.”

 

Verfall had a hard time believing the older man as Stark let out yet another disgruntled sigh.

 

“Just my luck.” He turned his head back to look at the front desk. “Where’d the staff go?”

 

As he moved, he exposed his neck, revealing the high-tech crossword puzzle, which had climbed further up his skin. Verfall’s fingers twitched, a frown on her lips. It would be so easy for her to just change his molecular structure and fix what was wrong, but she didn’t have the permission to do so.

 

And well, she supposed she’d never actually practiced changing someone’s blood structure to keep them alive. Maybe it would be a bad idea.

 

Saving people wasn’t exactly her forte.

 

She was made to destroy.

 

“That’s not looking too good.” Fury reached forwards and Verfall grabbed his wrist before he could touch Stark.

 

She frowned at the man, and he pulled back, raising his hands in surrender. 

 

“I’ve been worse.” Stark replied with a huff.

 

Verfall leaned back into her seat. 

 

She heard familiar footsteps behind them and she couldn’t help the little smile that appeared on her face. She turned as Natalia appeared in front of their table. She was wearing a black combat bodysuit, her wrists circled with familiar pieces of metal.

 

Widow bites, she realized, and her eyes shifted back to Fury with uncertainty. She’d become a Black Widow- and now she was working for SHIELD.

 

That was okay, right?

 

Natalia was safe. She was protected by SHIELD- at least from the KGB. But it was all speculation. 

 

Verfall could only hope.

 

“We’ve secured the perimeter. But I don’t think we should hold it for too much longer.” She said, reporting to Fury.

 

Tony stared at her in disbelief.

 

“You’re- uh- fired.” He frowned.

 

“That’s not up to you.” Natalia slipped into the seat beside Fury.

 

Verfall held up a hand, waving at the redhead.

 

“Morning, Natalie.” She greeted.

 

Natalia’s eyes flicked to her and an easygoing smile slipped onto her face. But it was a distrustful look Verfall was used to seeing. 

 

“Hey.” Natalia nodded. “Sorry for the whole deceiving thing.”

 

Verfall shrugged.

 

“Not a big deal.” She said. “It’s business.”

 

Natalia narrowed her eyes for a moment, before nodding. Maybe she shouldn’t have been too understanding, but, well, she wasn’t going to be here much longer anyway. 

 

Director Fury shifted in his seat, pointing a hand at Natalia.

 

“Tony, I want you to meet Agent Romanoff.” He introduced.

 

“Hi.” Tony waved dryly.

 

Verfall raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“I’m SHIELD’s shadow.” Natalia started. “Once we knew you were ill, I was tasked to you by Director Fury. I assume you already know this, Lucia?”

 

“Yes. We spoke about it a few times.” She admitted.

 

Stark removed his sunglasses, handing them to Verfall who shut them and carefully placed them into her purse.

 

“I suggest you apologize.” He sassed.

 

Natalia merely tilted her head.

 

Verfall shook her head at Stark’s antics.

 

After the chaos he’d caused yesterday- which was valid- he seemed a bit too calm, too collected. Too resigned. She supposed if she only had a few days left to live, she would be a bit more jumpy, wondering when death would surprise her.

 

But then again, Stark wouldn’t be very surprised by it. Knowing him, he probably estimated the exact day of his death as well.

 

“You’ve been very busy.” Fury announced. “You made your girl your CEO, you’re giving away all your stuff. You let your friend fly away with your suit.”

 

There was a tone of disbelief under the last sentence.

 

Verfall furrowed her eyebrows. 

 

If Colonel James Rhodes had an Iron Man suit, it now belonged to the government, which meant it belonged to HYDRA. Were the technicians not smart enough to pull it apart and reassemble it? She pursed her lips at the thought. The technicians weren’t geniuses, not like Stark.

 

They could take it apart, but the puzzle of putting it back together was a different story.

 

“Now, if I didn’t know better-“ Fury started.

 

“You don’t know better.” Stark interrupted. “I didn’t give it to him. He took it.”

 

Even Verfall couldn’t help the doubt circling her chest. It was impossible to steal an Iron Man suit without it going on autopilot and returning to Stark’s Malibu mansion. There were failsafes. 

 

Of course there were- Stark was smart.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. He took it? You’re Iron Man, and he just took it?” Fury exclaimed. “The little brother walked in there, kicked your ass, and took your suit? Is that possible?”

 

He turned to Natalia at the last statement, and Verfall slowly realized she’d done her fair share of snooping as well.

 

“Well, according to Mr. Stark’s database security guidelines, there are redundancies to prevent unauthorized usage.” Natalia replied without skipping a beat.

 

Stark snorted with incredulity, looking between them with an exasperated look.

 

“Give him a break,” Verfall cut in quietly, “he’s not going through sunshine and rainbows right now.”

 

Fury hummed, nor in agreement or disagreement. 

 

“What do you want?” Stark sighed.

 

She wondered how many times Fury had visited Stark before.

 

“What do we want from you? Uh-uh.” Fury said as Natalia stood, leaving the booth. “What do you want from me? You have become a problem, a problem I have to deal with.”

 

He pointed at Stark pointedly, and Verfall had to agree with him. 

 

Not because HYDRA deemed Stark a problem- that was different. But. . .Stark was a problem, to an extent. He was attempting to be this symbol of peace, which Ivan had managed to disassemble- not fully, but enough- and was being considerably reckless when no one else knew he was days from death.

 

“Contrary to your belief, you are not the center of my universe!” Fury practically cried.

 

“Yeah, I get it.” 

 

“I have bigger problems than you in the southwest region to deal with.” Fury snapped his fingers. “Hit him.”

 

Natalia was suddenly beside Stark, jabbing a cylindrical tube with a needle into the side of his neck. Verfall moved without meaning to, jumping to her feet and grabbing Natalia’s hand with a vice grip, the silver still between her fingers. 

 

“Oh, God, are you gonna steal my kidney and sell it?” Stark exclaimed as a groan of pain left his lips.

 

Natalia kept her eyes on Verfall and Verfall kept her eyes on her. Something in the redhead’s gaze seemed to soften, and she let her hand grow limp. Verfall looked down at the silver, then back to Stark.

 

The markings around his neck had started to recede.

 

She hesitantly let go of Natalia, who’s eyes lingered on her for a second longer.

 

“Could you please not do anything awful for five seconds?” Stark huffed as Natalia turned his chin to the side, checking his neck.

 

She seemed satisfied, then gave Verfall an apologetic look. She nodded in understanding, her eyes roaming Stark’s neck. 

 

“What did she just do to me?” 

 

Fury raised an eyebrow.

 

“What did we just do for you?” He answered. “That’s lithium dioxide. It’s gonna take the edge off. We’re trying to get you back to work.”

 

Verfall held her hand out towards Natalia. She tossed the cylinder to her and she snatched it in the air easily. She turned it back and forth, examining it closely, but not close enough. She needed her abilities. 

 

HYDRA didn’t trust her.

 

Sasha didn’t trust her.

 

“Give me a couple of boxes of that. I’ll be right as rain.” Stark smiled.

 

Fury shook his head

 

“It’s not a cure, it just abates the symptoms.” Natalia informed.

 

“Doesn’t look like it’s gonna be an easy fix.” Fury added.

 

“Trust me, I know.” Stark pressed. “I’m good at this stuff. I’ve been looking for a suitable replacement for palladium. I’ve tried every combination, every permutation of every known element.”

 

He ran a hand over his face.

 

“Well, I’m here to tell you, you haven’t tried them all.” Fury said calmly.

 

Stark stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

 

“He might be right.” Verfall said softly. “Howard Stark was an intelligent man, wasn’t he?”

 

Stark gazed at her curiously.

 

“Maybe he’s left something for you.” She leaned her chin against her hand. 

 

Stark tapped his fingers against his suit, lost in thought. 

 

“Maybe.” 

Chapter 82: Eighty One

"An apology isn’t enough. It never will be. But I am. I’m sorry.”

Malibu, California

May, 2010

SHE WAS FAINTLY AWARE OF Stark grabbing ahold of her shoulders as the ground grew closer to her face. It took her a second to register the fact she’d nearly collapsed. Her body was shutting down, too exhausted because she’d skipped her sleep cycle. She blinked profusely, trying to keep herself onto her feet as Stark helped her down the hall towards her room.

 

“Not gonna ask.” Stark muttered, and Verfall wondered if he was talking to himself or her.

 

She let out a soft groan of pain as her head thrummed, like hot knives were burning into her scalp and twisting back and forth against her brain. It was not unlike the burning sensation she vividly remembered feeling decades ago, from the lack of IV drips- from pills. 

 

Verfall winced as Stark led her into her bedroom, where a private bathroom was connected. She staggered forwards, nearly collapsing onto the floor as Stark failed to keep a tight grip on her. Confusion was clear in his gaze as she crumpled to the floor, his hand still holding onto her shoulder.

 

He crouched beside her, brows furrowing. 

 

“Are you hungry? What is-?”

 

Verfall suddenly coughed, hacking up something from her throat. She looked down at her hand and froze. It wasn’t spit or bile or throw up- it was blood. She immediately put a cupped hand underneath her nose, blood trickling down her face and towards her lips. 

 

“Lucia?” Stark’s voice was muted.

 

She pulled herself to her feet and rushed into the bathroom, leaving Stark futilely following after her. She turned the sink on, ignoring the blood she wiped on the faucet handle as she splashed water onto her face. She collected the cold liquid in her hand, putting it to her lips and washing her mouth.

 

The dark blood pouring down her nose wasn’t stopping, and Verfall felt panic in her chest rise as she continuously wiped the crimson liquid.

 

“Did you- Did you sleep?” Stark said with a hint of hesitation as he watched her with worry. “Are you sick? Are you dying?”

 

Verfall shook her head fiercely.

 

“Don’t jinx it.” She pursed her lips as she wiped her nose again. “I just haven’t slept.”

 

“Again?” Stark didn’t sound surprised.

 

He understood, especially when he stayed up overnight. But it was a problem- Verfall not sleeping was a problem to him. That was an odd thing to think. She wiped her nose continuously for another minute before the flow started to slow. She carefully breathed through her nose, feeling the air enter and leave without any blood pouring out.

 

She turned the sink off, and straightened, placing a clean hand on her forehead.

 

It was warm. 

 

She turned to St- a blurry figure in the doorway and took a step forward.

 

She immediately regretted it as her foot slammed into her own. Someone caught her before she could fall again, and she almost wheezed. So maybe she was feeling drug withdrawal. 

 

That was fine. 

 

She just needed to wait for the feeling to pass. 

 

Just needed to let the feeling pass and she’d figure out what she’d done wrong because HYDRA was supposed to be giving her drugs and they weren’t, and she didn’t understand. She didn’t do anything wrong. There was no right or wrong way to do this mission in the first place. There were too many choices and she didn’t know what was right to choose because there was no one there- there was no one here and she needed- someone-

 

Needed-

 

“Okay, you’re definitely sick.” There was a muted voice again, speaking as he half carried her to the bed. “You need to rest.”

 

His voice was firm and authoritative- familiar and warm. She felt herself be placed on the bed, head being propped up by something soft and fluffy. There was something being pulled over her body, up to her waist- soft. 

 

He’d given an order- need to rest.

 

The fabric beneath her was too warm for it to be a cryostasis chamber but maybe this handler was new and wanted her to sleep when she wasn’t permitted- when did she last sleep?- but she couldn’t say no, couldn’t disagree or voice her concern. 

 

The Handler was doing things wrong, but she couldn’t say that of all things. 

 

She furrowed her eyebrows with confusion as the Handler leaned over her, placing a hand on her forehead. He pulled the blanket slightly away, and Verfall inhaled sharply, feeling cold at the sudden absence of the fabric. Her fingers moved on instinct, grabbing at the fabric like a toddler. 

 

“I know you’re cold but you’re burning up.” He said firmly. “Stop.”

 

Her hands dropped to her sides immediately, and something flashed between the Handler’s eyes. She didn’t quite catch it as he disappeared into the bathroom. She let her breathing grow even, chest rising and falling in slow movements. 

 

She shivered. 

 

She needed the blanket but he said not to grab it- but she needed- 

 

Sometimes she didn’t get what she needed. The fight for the blanket died inside of her as she lay flat against the bed. At least she was on a soft surface- on a bed that wasn’t hers. She heard the Handler walk back to the bed, and she blinked as something cold was placed on her forehead.

 

Her whole body shivered even more, and she wondered if he was upset with her. It didn’t look like it. The Handler looked worried as he examined her. He pressed the cold towel against her head, before pulling back.

 

“You should take a nap.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck as if he was almost sheepish, unsure.

 

She nodded her head slightly, and he reached for the light switch.

 

The room darkened as he shut the door. 

 

She let her eyes flutter shut, the black emptiness of sleep taking over. It felt good. Ceasing to feel anything just for a few minutes, a few hours made her feel. Sometimes she wanted to stay in the dark, cryostasis didn’t let her stay in the void for long, but sleep certainly did. 

 

Of course, she didn’t have any wants.

 

She half-expected to be sucked into a nightmare, so she was pleasantly surprised when her mind was too exhausted to conjure any horrifying image. It seemed she was in desperate need of sleep, and she was getting it. 

 

She floated in the blackness, before she slowly felt herself wake, her body warm against the blanket beneath her. Confusion was the first thing she felt as her eyes flicked back and forth across the room. She hesitantly sat up, slowly, her body still tired, but not exhausted. 

 

She reached for the towel on top of her head.

 

It was dry.

 

She removed it, placing her other hand over her forehead. She didn’t seem to be burning up anymore. She caught sight of the window, and was surprised to see it was dark outside. 

 

She fiddled nervously with the towel in her hand. She’d overslept and the Handler would be- the Handler- Stark.

 

It’d been Stark.

 

He wasn’t a handler.

 

Relief settled in her chest and she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, putting her feet on the cold wood beneath her. She silently padded across the room to the bathroom. There was a splash of pink against the granite counter, and she paused, staring. It was watered down blood- but when-

 

Relief twisted into horror as she slowly remembered what had happened, and why she was sleeping in the first place. She placed a hand on her nose, shakily wiping the area beneath it as if she could feel blood trickling down her skin. 

 

The IV’s weren’t just hydration- they’d put her back onto the chemical concoction that kept her abilities sharp. That kept her alive. 

 

She dismissed the thought, hanging the towel back onto the rack. She stepped to her bedside table and glanced at her phone. There were no notifications, so she left it, exiting her room and travelling down the hall, socks gliding against the cold floor.

 

There was a sudden loud bang, and Verfall stopped, holding her breath. She listened carefully and heard the familiar roaring of AC/DC beneath her.

 

What was Stark doing?

 

She sighed, walking towards the lab. 

 

She stepped down the stairs, pausing to collect herself for a second before plastering a smile on her face as she looked at the camera near the door, where JARVIS would see her.

 

From inside, Stark glanced at the ceiling, holding a thick metal cylinder between his arms, one side planted on the ground as he tried to hold it upwards. The door unlocked and Verfall was greeted by DUM-E, who’s hand rotated back and forth with confusion, their squeaks low.

 

Stark eyed his robot oddly, but said nothing.

 

She gave the robot hand a pat as she turned to Stark, raising a curious eyebrow.

 

His mouth moved and Verfall strained her ears to hear him over the music booming out of the ceiling. He looked up to the ceiling again, and the music quieted to a soft background beat.

 

“Did I wake you?” He said, crouching to the ground as he placed the metal cylinder down.

 

He wiped sweat off his brow.

 

She furrowed her eyebrows.

 

“No, you didn’t- but- what are you doing?” She questioned.

 

Stark’s face exploded with happiness, relief, and a bright grin. He waved his hands enthusiastically towards his arc reactor.

 

“I found a suitable replacement for palladium!” He exclaimed, stepping towards her.

 

“So you’re not going to die?” She questioned hopefully.

 

She watched with a hint of amusement as he almost tripped over the metal tube he’d placed in front of him. He managed to catch his balance as he approached her.

 

“Nope!” His grin widened at the content in her eyes. 

 

Then he paused.

 

“You feeling better?” He asked as he inspected her face.

 

She swatted him away, rolling her eyes.

 

“I’m fine. Like I said, I just needed sleep.” She reiterated.

 

Stark narrowed her eyes for a second, and Verfall’s heart hammered in her chest, beating in her ears until he turned back around, a sigh leaving his lips. Verfall’s lips quirked upwards- she could be stubborn for as long as she needed to be.

 

He picked up the metal cylinder again, struggling as he tried to bring it up. Verfall’s eyes shifted over the tunnel that was connected from one wall to the other. She stepped forwards and picked up the other side of the cylinder.

 

“Uh- no.” Stark huffed. “You can sit down, and rest.”

 

She raised an eyebrow.

 

She didn’t listen, bringing the cylinder up easily to the stand he was trying to get it on. His eyelid twitched and he slid a hand over his face, a pout forming on his lips. 

 

Verfall looked at him with an innocent smile.

 

“Do you ever listen?” He huffed.

 

She crossed her arms over her chest.

 

Always. I don’t have a choice.

 

She shrugged.

 

Stark shook his head, smacking the metal tube which clicked into place amongst its relatives. She decided it was probably safer standing where Stark was standing, rather than whatever was facing her direction. She ducked underneath it, reappearing at Stark’s side. He grabbed a bubble leveler, placing it on the tube. 

 

Verfall moved to a chair nearby, sitting down with a bored look shifting between her eyes. 

 

Stark frowned as one of the tubes showed to be imbalanced. He looked around the room for an object when someone appeared in front of the door.

 

It was a balding man who wasn’t tall but wasn’t short either. He was dressed in a professional black suit, his eyes moving to her for a second before typing in the password.

 

The door clicked and he entered, frowning at Stark.

 

“I heard you broke the perimeter.” The man remarked.

 

Verfall let confusion show on her face as she looked up at Stark. He’d left while she was sleeping- she’d lost a window of opportunity to steal more intel. . .

 

She pinched the bridge of her nose, cutting the thought short.

 

That was good.

 

“Uh, yeah, that was like three years ago. Where you been?” Stark questioned. 

 

“I was doin’ some stuff.” The man replied.

 

Stark hummed.

 

“Yeah, well, me too, and it worked.” He said as he placed his bubble leveler to the side.

 

The man- agent- stepped over towards her and Verfall cautiously stood to her feet. She was surprised by the fact she wasn’t swaying. She felt fine as she held her hand out towards him.

 

“Lucia Bastiani, yes?” He greeted, taking her hand.

 

“Yes. And you are-?” She inquired curiously.

 

He smiled, though there wasn’t much of any actual contentment.

 

“Agent Phil Coulson, of SHIELD.” He introduced as he let go of her hand.

 

“Ah.” She nodded in understanding, before turning to Stark. “You broke the perimeter?”

 

Stark had left when she wouldn’t be able to steal anything. It was a coincidence and it was a goddamn good coincidence. If HYDRA got ahold of Stark’s technology, the rawness of it, there would be nothing that could stand in their way.

 

That is, if they got to the step by step directions which Stark had noticed himself, which she suspected was behind all his firewalls. 

 

It would take time- time that she didn’t have- wouldn’t have. If she broke through five or six firewalls, then it’d show progress- that she’d tried- but it would keep Stark’s word for word explanations for his inventions safe.

 

And that was all that really mattered.

 

No, she needed that intel. 

 

That was her mission.

 

But Stark was her mission too. He was- important. She needed to protect him. Protect him because she’d killed the two people who must’ve meant the world to him. She’d hurt- and now she wanted to- what? Help him when she’d done the hurting?

 

“Yeah. Gave Pepper a visit.” He said.

 

Stark tried to slip a thin pair of pliers under the tube. He measured the straightness of it once again. To no avail, of course, as he removed the pliers and sighed.

 

She blinked.

 

“And?” She pressed.

 

“Well, long story short, she wasn’t happy.” He paused. “Oh and she’s suddenly all chummy with Natalie or Natasha or whoever she is.”

 

Stark’s eyes shifted to Phil.

 

“Hey, I’m playing for the home team, Coulson, you and all your fabulous Fury Freaky Brothers. Now are you gonna let me work, or breathe my balls?” Stark stepped over towards another piece of metal, worthy of being a footstool.

 

Phil frowned as he grasped something from a pile of recycled material.

 

“What’s this doing here?” 

 

Verfall choked on her spit, startled as Phil held up an unfinished shield, holding the design and colors of Steve’s shield, but not the vibranium. She cleared her throat awkwardly as Stark turned. He didn’t mention her response, instead staring at the shield. 

 

His eyes brightened.

 

“That’s it.” He breathed. “Bring that to me.”

 

He waved his hand at Phil who brought the shield over to him.

 

“You know what this is?” Phil questioned, his gaze flickering with awe and disbelief.

 

Verfall examined the agent.

 

He was holding the shield like it was the most fragile thing in existence. Well, it did look unfinished and barely put together, but still, he was holding it like a child. Was he a fan of Captain America?

 

“It’s exactly what I need to make this work.” Stark replied, unfazed by the shield’s design.

 

“Lift the coil.” Stark ordered and Verfall nearly stood to her feet again, stopping only when Coulson bent to tuck his arms underneath the cylinder. “Go, go. Put your knees into it. There you go- and-“

 

She watched as Stark took the shield and promptly placed it under the coil.

 

“Drop it- drop it.” 

 

Phil slowly did so, looking pained and offended as the object was reduced to nothing but a little pedestal. The shield managed to keep itself rounded, structurally sound. Stark grabbed his bubble leveler and placed it back on top of the metal.

 

It straightened.

 

“Perfectly level.” He snorted. “I’m busy. What do you want?”

 

“Nothing.” Phil said bluntly. “Goodbye. I’ve been reassigned. Director Fury wants me in New Mexico.”

 

Verfall leaned her chin against the palm of her hand.

 

SHIELD was finally leaving Stark alone, or well, as much as a government surveillance agency could.

 

“Fantastic. Land of enchantment.” Stark smiled. 

 

Phil blinked.

 

“So I’m told.” He said.

 

There was a pause.

 

“Secret stuff?” Stark pressed.

 

“Something like that.” Phil nodded.

 

Stark chuckled.

 

“Good luck.”

 

“Bye.” Phil started to step back towards the lab entrance.

 

“Thanks.” Stark said.

 

Phil paused, his footsteps dropping slower. Verfall smiled at the agent as he glanced at her. He looked back at Stark.

 

“We need you.” He said.

 

Stark squared his shoulders, that familiar cocky light entering his eyes. It’d been awhile since she’d seen that confidence. And she was glad, relieved even, for the asshole of him to reappear. 

 

It’d been too quiet- a moment too peaceful.

 

“Yeah, more than you know.” He agreed.

 

Phil nearly scoffed.

 

“Not that much.”

 

He stepped briskly out of the lab and Verfall stared at him leave before turning back to observe Stark, resting as he’d asked, though a few minutes late she supposed. Stark sauntered to the other side of the lab and Verfall watched him carefully, before standing to her feet, moving in front of the coil. 

 

Her fingertips brushed against the shield’s cold metal.

 

“You’re making a new core.” Verfall stated as she knocked the coil with her knuckles. 

 

“Yes.” Stark agreed.

 

Her eyes wandered to the broken walls.

 

“And destroying your lab in the process.” She continued.

 

Stark looked back at her.

 

“Yes.” He replied, before jerking his head towards the shield she was observing. “You a fan of Steve Rogers?”

 

Verfall’s eyes shifted back to the shield.

 

“Something like that.”

 

She was treading on the edge.

 

She was dipping her foot into a pool of seething lava. She was meddling with HYDRA’s control. It was a dangerous thing, but Stark knew something. He knew something and she wanted to confirm it. Because it was true and she couldn’t save Winter or herself without someone else’s help. 

 

Not that Stark would want to help them. He would do some digging- real digging- that HYDRA wouldn’t be able to stop. Then he would know what she and Winter had done to his parents, to Howard, to Maria. 

 

“Sorry- I don’t know if- well,” Stark stared at her, “are you sure you’re not German?”

 

Verfall furrowed her eyebrows in faux confusion.

 

“No. What makes you think so?” She asked, letting herself falter a tad.

 

“Huh.” Stark walked back over to the coil, holding a triangular piece of reflective material. “Nothing. Really. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Stark Expo tonight.”

 

Her lips tilted into a small frown.

 

“You’re not going?” She questioned.

 

“The plan is- no.” Stark replied as he adjusted the triangular object within one of the open coils.

 

Verfall gazed at him with confusion.

 

“But it’s- it’s your Expo.” She insisted.

 

“I’m going to be busy. I already asked Natalie to bring you along with Pepper- if that’s fine.” He said.

 

Verfall lips twitched, before flattening into a thin line. Her eyes travelled to DUM-E, who seemed to notice her stare. Maybe Stark knows. She hoped- no, she shouldn’t- but- maybe- he knew.

 

He was putting the pieces together now.

 

“That’s fine.” She stared at him. “Goodbye, Tony.”

 

She stepped to the lab exit.

 

“See ya later.” Stark waved.

 

Verfall bit the inside of her lips.

 

There would be no later.

Chapter 83: Eighty Two

"I demolish my bridges behind me- then there is no choice but forward.”

Queens, New York

May, 2010

VERFALL DOUBLE CHECKED HER BAG before exiting the plane. Her phone was nestled into the side, where a thin zipper was. She pulled it open, checked for her two USB drives, then shut it. She pulled her face out of her bag, smiling at Pepper who stepped down the stairs behind her. For the first time in a while, Verfall was wearing black stilettos. It felt odd, having barely any protection over her feet. She could run in them, most-likely, but she’d rather kick them off than keep them on.

 

She was wearing a sleek black dress, resembling a suit that was secured to her waist with two buttons. The dress itself was all connected, and Verfall despised the immobility of it. But, well, Pepper had been insistent on giving it to her and Verfall couldn’t say no. The only good thing about the dress was the fact she could hide her combat suit beneath it by rolling the bottom of her pants up to her middle calf.

 

They were led by Happy who guided them towards a silver car. Verfall slipped into the backseat beside Pepper as Natalia took the passenger’s seat. 

 

She stared out the window quietly.

 

“He doesn’t even care, does he?” Pepper’s voice was quiet. 

 

Verfall turned to her.

 

“He does. He’s had a lot on his plate-“ Pepper’s eyelid twitched “-not that you haven’t. But I promise you, he hasn’t been laying around doing nothing. He hasn’t been lazy. He’s-“

 

“He’s going through things.” Natalia supported. “I don’t agree with him but he’s going through things.”

 

Pepper sighed, leaning her head against the back of her seat. She didn’t speak again, lost in thought as she squeezed her eyes shut. 

 

Verfall looked back to the window again, her heart thrumming against her chest. She needed access to a computer connected to Stark, anything. It would’ve been suspicious if she’d desperately asked Stark to let her stay in Malibu. So she might’ve been in a little dilemma. But that was fine. She could- she would have to figure out something. 

 

A soft breath left her lips.

 

She would have to figure out something and make sure she did it right. Otherwise she would have to pay for that- Winter would have to pay, and she’d already risked their safety multiple times. 

 

She couldn’t do it again, not for the sake of anyone, not for the sake of herself.

 

It took an hour or so to get from the airport to the Stark Expo. The sun was gone, replaced by a black sky, clear of clouds and sparkling with stars. The weather was perfect, ominously so. 

 

She pushed open her door, stepping out and holding it open as Pepper climbed out gracefully behind her.

 

“I’ll keep the car down here, all right?” Happy called.

 

“Thank you, Happy.” Natalia smiled.

 

Natalia and her flanked Pepper on either side, looking rather studious as they climbed up the steps towards the Expo pavilion. Verfall observed the excited families walking back and forth, holding cotton candy and popcorn buckets.

 

It was different compared to the Expo she remembered- enormous- but it was similar enough for her to feel a twist in her chest, a pang in her heart.

 

They found their seats in the crowd easily, and the trio sat down quietly as music started playing from the speakers set around the wide open auditorium. It was upbeat, bright, compared to the usual roaring music that simply screamed Stark. 

 

Verfall’s eyes slid over the HYDRA advocate, watching as he danced onto stage, spinning and shuffling. His attempts to embody the energy of Stark was pitiful, to say the least.

 

There was scattered applause as he approached the glass podium.

 

Verfall kept her hands folded in her lap.

 

“That’s what I’m talking about. Thanks for coming!” He greeted with a charismatic smirk.

 

It was nothing compared to Stark’s natural snarkiness- the charisma he exuded without even meaning to. Justin was merely annoying, and Verfall had no desire to waste much time watching his presentation.

 

But she was sitting here for a reason far more important than the one in front of her. Besides, patience was a virtue.

 

She watched as Justin shot the crowd a bright grin.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, for far too long this country has had to place its brave men and women in harm’s way, but then the Iron Man arrived, and we thought the days of losing lives were behind us.” He paused, scanning the open area. “Sadly, that technology was kept out of reach. That’s not fair. That’s not right. And it’s just too bad.”

 

Pepper rolled her eyes.

 

“Oh lord.” She muttered with annoyance.

 

Natalia quietly nodded in agreement, before glancing back to the stage.

 

“Regardless, it was an impressive innovation, one that grabbed headlines the world over. Well, today my friends,” Justin smirked, “the press is faced with quite a different problem. They are about to run out of ink.”

 

He smiled and there was an awkward moment of scattered applause, the silence louder than the few claps that viewers felt obligated to do simply because they were too kind. 

 

Two assistants grabbed the podium out of Justin’s way and he cleared his throat, waving the pair away. 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he repeated, “today I present to you, the new face of the United States military. The Hammer Drone!”

 

He gestured behind him as bright stage lights flickered on. The floor opened up behind him and Verfall leaned forwards in her seat as large drones with white lights for faces slowly rose. They clicked in place and she frowned, ice settling in her chest.

 

They wouldn’t- HYDRA wouldn’t replace them with drones, would they? It was such an idiotic thought she almost dismissed it. But HYDRA wanted mindless things, and Verfall wasn’t mindless, nor was Winter.

 

They were still capable of thought, of intelligence. 

 

Verfall swallowed the bile climbing up her throat as Justin announced the Navy theatrically.

 

“- Air Force!” He shouted, pointing in front of him.

 

The floor opened up once again, then another time as Marines rose.

 

“That’s a hell of a lot better than some cheerleaders, let me tell you.” He grinned.

 

Verfall had the urge to destroy all of them, not inactive as they were, but active, throwing all their weapons at her. She needed to show she was better- that she was irreplaceable, because she was. 

 

Because Winter was and they were still useful.

 

They didn’t need to be decommissioned.

 

“But as revolutionary as this technology is, there will always be a need for man to be present in the theater of war. Ladies and gentlemen, today I am proud to present to you the very first prototype in the Variable Threat Response Battle Suit and its pilot, Air Force Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes!”

 

He pointed to the circular area of the stage and Verfall watched with surprise as an Iron Man suit armed with several bulky weapons appeared on stage, undoubtedly piloted by Rhodey. It looked. . .terrible. The flashy red and gold was gone- which she didn’t really care of- but the weight of it, the unnecessary amount of extra material was simply heartbreaking.

 

Pepper blinked, looking with disbelief.

 

“What?” She breathed.

 

Rhodey lifted his mechanical hand, the drones following suit as they all saluted the crowd.

 

Justin mirrored their movements, before turning back to his audience. He started to speak, but his voice was overcome by the sound of familiar roaring fire power. Justin stopped and Verfall rose in her seat with pleasant surprise as Stark, clad in his Iron Man suit, landed on the stage.

 

He stepped towards Rhodey and waved to the crowd. 

 

Verfall’s eyes flicked to the triangular shape on his chest. The core had worked then. He wasn’t going to die any time soon.

 

Stark stepped towards Justin and she watched tensely for a few seconds as the man’s whole demeanor changed. 

 

Suddenly the drones lifted all of their arms, pointing forwards. The machine gun attached to Rhodey’s back started to spin, pointed straight at Stark. Her phone started to ring as chaos erupted and she quickly jumped over Natalia, briskly walking out of the seating area and towards the exit. 

 

Stark flew upwards and Verfall exhaled quietly at the sound of heavy but familiar gunfire. The glass ceiling above shattered in deafening clatters and Verfall placed a hand above her head as people screamed. 

 

She was faintly aware of the drones flying high into the air, right at Stark’s heels.

 

She grabbed her two USB drives strategically, slipping her phone into her hand and discarding her purse. It was immediately trampled on. She put the phone against her ear, her pace quickening.

 

“Commander.” She greeted indifferently. 

 

“Change of plans.” It was refreshing to hear Agent Rumlow’s voice. “Hammer is clearly a fuckin’ idiot. There’s a black van parked to the left of the Expo building. Get your ass over here. You’ve got a minute.”

 

“Confirmed, sir.” 

 

The line went dead and she broke into a careful run, dodging people who were sprinting in opposite directions, pure fear in their eyes. Her gaze shifted to one of the drones, who was approaching a-a child.

 

Her body moved on autopilot, pivoting on her foot and running towards the boy who held his hand up, a fake repulsor covering his palm. 

 

The drone’s weapon raised and her eyes widened.

 

Stark dropped beside the kid, blasting the drone in the face. He turned to the kid as the drone toppled over.

 

“Nice work, kid.” He said before disappearing into the sky again.

 

Verfall resisted the urge to smile before she gently grabbed the boy’s shoulder. He looked up at her, taking his Iron Man mask off and grinning.

 

“What’s your name, парень? Where are your parents?” She asked kindly.

 

“My name’s Peter. Peter Parker!” He beamed, before his eyes scanned the street. “My parents are over there- I think.”

 

He pointed towards a crowd and Verfall looked down at the boy, then the van just in her view.

 

“Can you put your helmet back on? I’m going to help you fly like Iron Man.” She said, giving him a little wink.

 

The boy, Peter, only brightened at her words. 

 

He put his Iron Man helmet back on and Verfall scooped the boy into her arms. She kicked off her stilettos and held him above the crowd, like her mother had once done when she was young. 

 

He let out a gleeful laugh, as he guided her to his parents.

 

The couple looked frazzled before they noticed him.

 

Verfall placed the boy on the ground as their parents embraced them. They turned to thank her but she was already gone, slipping out of the crowd.

 

She arrived at the van at least a second late and the door slammed open fast. She swung herself inside as the driver pressed his foot on the gas.

 

Relief was the first thing she felt when she caught sight of Commander Rumlow’s familiar scowl, and Agent Rollins’s nearly cold presence. His eyes seemed to soften for a second before he cleared his throat.

 

“We’re going to Hammer Industries.” Agent Rollins said gruffly. “We suspect Ivan Vanko has broken into Stark’s security, enough to give us easy access to his database.”

 

Agent Rumlow nodded at her clothes, raising an eyebrow.

 

She blinked, then reached into the bottom of her dress, relieved by the feeling of her white thigh holster. After weeks of sim0ky carrying the blade, it had finally found itself back in its rightful place. She unsheathed the dagger, tearing her dress clean in half. She pulled the fabric away, revealing a black combat suit. She rolled her pants down as Agent Rollins handed her a pair of sleek combat boots.

 

The feeling felt all too right as she was handed a pair of Glock’s, which she attached to her hip. 

 

She lowered herself to the ground in front of the Commander, the vehicle continuing forwards. She sat patiently, waiting, until Agent Rumlow reached forwards and started threading his fingers through her hair.

 

Her whole body relaxed and she shut her eyes, leaning her head against his knee. She held tightly to his pant leg, like he’d disappear if she didn’t.

 

“Hey, easy.” The Commander said with a hint of confusion.

 

She wasn’t supposed to act like this- she knew that- but she’d- she’d missed the Commander and his Second In Command. 

 

She really did.

 

She responded to him by burying her face into his leg. There was a sharp familiar scent to him. Something along the lines of coconut, hazelnut and caramel all mixed in one alcoholic concoction.

 

“You really missed us?” Agent Rumlow questioned as he pointed to Agent Rollins too.

 

She nodded, eyes still shut.

 

“She was thrust into an unfamiliar environment, Brock. By herself. How would you feel?” Agent Rollins frowned.

 

The Commander blinked.

 

“Like shit.” He admitted bluntly.

 

“Exactly.” Agent Rollins said pointedly. “She needs a form of familiarity to ease herself back to, well-“

 

He cut himself off at the sharp look Agent Rumlow shot him. She didn’t question the gesture, though she knew whatever Agent Rollins was going to say was not HYDRA permitted or accepted. 

 

The car ride was shorter than she liked- she didn’t have likes. The van came to a stop in front of a tall white building and Agent Rumlow nudged her, a circular device in his hand.

 

“Rendezvous point: across the road. Simple.” He said.

 

He spun it and Verfall looked up. Her eyes flicked with gratitude before she slid out of the sidedoor. 

 

The locks to the door dissolved as she approached the back exit, slamming the door open unceremoniously with her foot. A pair of guards immediately spun around and Verfall regarded them with a chilling coldness as she lifted her hand. Familiar white wisps trailed between her fingertips.

 

The guards drew there guns but the guns merely dispersed into liquid, there bodies falling not much after. She looked back and forth down the hall, two guards stationed on either side. She twisted her fingers and the men stumbled backwards into his partner, both hitting the ground and losing consciousness. 

 

She travelled silently down the hall, standing tall, eyes shifting between the name of each room. She paused at the sound of fast clicking- sounds of a keyboard. Her eyes shifted towards the door labeled database, and sauntered towards it.

 

The door slammed open before she could even reach it. 

 

She locked eyes with Ivan Vanko.

 

She placed a hand on her blade, until he slowly started stepping backwards, hands raised. She tilted her head coldly as she stepped forwards, stopping in front of the open room.

 

“Он убьет тебя.”

 

He will kill you.

 

She remarked monotonously.

 

Ivan didn’t respond, instead rushing down the hall, still alive after brushing shoulders with the one who brought death- twice.

 

She entered the room, shutting the door behind her. There were two hanging bodies which she dismissed as she leaned over the computer monitors. She flipped both her USB drives and placed them in their respective ports. She didn’t open or close any tabs, ignoring the desire to shut down all drones in the area.

 

Dr. Zola’s familiar green blurred face appeared on one of the smaller monitors.

 

“Verfall.” Dr. Zola greeted. “I will break the third firewall.”

 

Verfall nodded in response, moving one of Ivan’s tabs, one connected directly to the suit Rhodey was wearing. She typed quickly, eyes flicking across the screen as blueprints flew from the monitor to the drive file.

 

“Got in.” Verfall said as she started hacking through the fourth firewall. “Hurry.”

 

Dr. Zola’s face contorted for a second, as if he was annoyed, but the little encouragement seemed to work in her favor as the fourth firewall fell in nearly a minute. Verfall found herself staring at the repulsor blueprints. 

 

Her fingers faltered over the keys.

 

“Verfall.” Dr. Zola’s voice was firm- a warning.

 

She swallowed thickly and pulled the image into the USB file. There were more significant images- like explanations on how each metal plate connected and how the power was threaded through.

 

Dr. Zola worked on breaking the fifth firewall as Verfall continued to move each file.

 

She paused for a moment when she heard the distant sound of guards shouting and occasionally screaming in pain or alarm. She typed faster, as quickly as she could, before quick footsteps trailed in front of the room. 

 

Verfall pulled Dr. Zola’s USB from the port, moving the last file towards the other drive.

 

The door slammed open, guns cocking behind her.

 

“He’s gone.” She heard the redhead breathe.

 

Then-

 

“Lucia.”

 

Verfall pulled the other drive from the computer, slipping both into her pocket as she calmly turned on her foot, finding herself face to face with Natalia.

 

Natalia’s eyes shifted over her, guns still raised. 

 

Behind her Verfall could see Happy, his eyes wide with surprise and a hint of horror. Her gaze flicked back to Natalia, whose eyes burned with something between anger and sympathy.

 

“Verfall.” Her voice sounded pained. “You were there. In the Red Room.”

 

Verfall’s shoulders loosened, her expression brightening only by the little glimmer travelling between her eyes.

 

“Natashenka.” Her voice was soft. “You remember.”

 

Natalia’s grip on her guns tightened. She entered the room carefully, Happy still standing in the doorway. Verfall kept her eyes focused on her face, sharp green pupils keeping her unwavering gaze.

 

“We called you Вдова Уинтера- Winter’s Widow.” She said. “You were the best.”

 

Verfall’s lips twitched upwards.

 

She hadn’t known that. She’d never known what the girls spoke about- Winter and her were never informed. Maybe the girls had some freedom- maybe there was a flaw in their programming and Natalia had been able to use it to her advantage.

 

“You are not with the KGB anymore.” Verfall stated. “But you are still unrivaled in combat- in intelligence.”

 

Natalia nodded in agreement.

 

“And you are still admirable.” Her gaze shifted with u certainty. “You’re still with the Red Room, aren’t you?”

 

Verfall bit the inside of her jaw, shaking her head.

 

“No. I was never with them.” Her eyes flirted to the exit, then back to Natalia. “We were leased-“

 

She snapped her head to the side at the words that left her lips.

 

“That information is classified.”

 

Natalia stared at her. 

 

Verfall knew what was running through her mind- she was being forced, there wasn’t any choice given to her, there wasn’t consent. She took a step towards the entrance, and Happy stiffened, blocking her way as he puffed up his chest.

 

“Stay.” Natalia suddenly blurted. “Stay. We’ll figure something out. I have a friend- Agent Clint Barton. He can help you. He helped me. SHIELD can deprogram you. I can help you.”

 

Verfall stared at her.

 

“That is deliberate disobedience. It will result in punishment.” Her voice was dry, absent of the tenderness that’d once been there. “I cannot choose, Natashenka. I apologize.”

 

Natalia’s knuckles grew white with how tight she was holding her guns. 

 

The sound of gunfire exploded and Verfall didn’t even lift a finger as the rounds dissolved into nothing but metallic ash. She moved fast, in front of the exit with sudden intensity, elbowing Happy hard in the stomach. 

 

He buckled over and she darted down the hall.  

 

She half expected Natalia to run after her but she heard a shout instead, then heavy footsteps. She turned sharply down the hall and out of the building as Happy chased after her. She sprinted out the exit, tilting her head back at Happy and forcing the tile in front of him to rip upwards.

 

He tripped, landing face-first into the floor.

 

Verfall turned back to look ahead of her and skidded to a stop. She was too late as she slammed into another man who looked more like a civilian than an agent, from the loose shirt he was wearing.

 

She felt his hand slip into her pocket and grab something.

 

She shook her head, momentarily disoriented as the figure turned the opposite direction, towards the back of the building, full with forestry.

 

She patted her pants to feel them empty- he’d taken her USB drives.

 

Fuck.

 

She twisted on her heel and bolted after the man. 

 

She clenched her jaw as she followed him blindly through the woods. The man glanced back for a second and she could see sweat glistening on his brow, eyes wide with fear and his face unnaturally pale. His Adam's apple bobbed before he turned back to run even faster.

 

Verfall struggled to catch up with him- the man wasn’t enhanced by any means, just very athletic. She lifted her hand and activated her abilities when- when-

 

She came to a stop.

 

It was darker in the woods, so she would’ve missed the man disappear if she hadn’t been focused on him. He hadn’t simply gone out of view- no, he simply ceased to exist. Verfall stepped forwards cautiously, silently, where she’d last had her eyes on him. She reached forwards and stiffened as the tree in front of her rippled.

 

It rippled, like a hologram.

 

She stared.

 

She needed those flash drives. She needed those flash drives and couldn’t return without them. If she didn’t. . .she shook her head, trying not to think of the consequences. She reached further into the hologram, which caused the trees to glitch and ripple even more. She pressed her foot through the glitching image, then fully let herself in.

 

She blinked, eyes narrowing.

 

The other side of the rippling image was a clearing with clean cut grass and flowers blooming around the edges. There was a two story cottage, painted umber brown and beige. Besides it was a large barn, with a tractor half driven out of the open door. 

 

Across it was a large fenced area with a pair of chickens clucking, and a pair of pigs sleeping. Roaming beside the barn were two highland cows, their hair fluffy and newly cleaned- brushed? They were laying on their belly, snoring quietly as they slept.

 

It was the oddest sight she’d seen in a long time, and wondered why this set up was hidden in the middle of a forest.

 

The thought was cut off rather quickly as the man she’d been following unlatched the front door and entered the building. The light turned on inside and Verfall stalked forwards. She pushed the door open, cold eyes silently scanning the interior,

 

There was a staircase a few feet in front of her, leading to the second floor. There was a hallway besides that, leading to a number of rooms. To the left of her was the entrance to the living room- to the right was a kitchen.

 

Verfall listened closely to the sound of breathing and entered the kitchen, drawing her gun with both hands, fingers tight around the trigger.

 

What she saw made her freeze, her whole body growing ridged, her mouth dry as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs. 

 

The man was there- the one she didn’t recognize- with both USB drives at the center of the dining table in front of a cold marble counter. It wasn’t alarming- he wasn’t alarming.

 

But sitting across from him- sitting across from him- 

 

Was a dark haired man slouched into his chair, his feet kicked onto the table and a cigarette sitting between his fingers. The cigarette was pulled away from his lips, and smoke twisted into the air.

 

Verfall inhaled sharply.

 

Dr. Schaffer smiled, tapping the cigarette.

 

Ashes fell.

 

“Oh Ver, how I’ve missed you.”

Chapter 84: Eighty Three

"What hurts the victim most is not the cruelty of the oppressor, but the silence of the bystander.”

Queens, New York

May, 2010

THERE WAS A LOUD BANG and Verfall thought for a split second she’d managed to pull the trigger and defy what she wasn’t physically or mentally capable of. But her hands were still shaking and there hadn’t been any recoil to her gun. She heard the chair slam backwards before she saw it- saw the agent- with a hole at the center of his head, blood splattered on the wall behind him. 

 

Dr. Schaffer scrunched his nose with distaste as he holstered his gun. He tilted his head back to her and a shiver travelled down her spine. There was a dark glint in his eyes, though it seemed to dissipate the longer he gazed at her. Verfall caught sight of amusement in his expression, and a bit of relief settled in her stomach. 

 

The feeling was quickly replaced with uncertainty as Dr. Schaffer pulled his feet off the table, stubbed out his cigarette, and stood slowly.

 

He took a step forward. 

 

She raised the barrel of her gun, keeping it level to his chest. Her heart raced in her chest, like a broken timer sprinting in circles, around and around until it would simply give out. Dr. Schaffer’s eyes dropped to the gun, then back to her. 

 

That infuriating smile remained on his face.

 

“You would’ve already hurt me if you could, Ver.” His voice was smooth, soft like silk.

 

Silk that was perfect to cut off anyone’s airway.

 

Verf- Lucy took a sharp step back, her knuckles turning white, her face pale. 

 

“No.” She blurted. “You don’t- you don’t get to call me that. Anymore.”

 

Dr. Schaffer’s eyes narrowed and she swallowed anxiously. Her grip grew firmer around her weapon- she forced her arms to stiffen. 

 

It was unfair that he was acting as if nothing had changed- as if no time had passed. She wasn’t the same- he sure as well wasn’t the same either. It was maddening- the way that he had seen the world pass by, seen every world wonder, only for his demeanor, his grin, his face to remain the same. 

 

Men like him didn’t deserve to live this way- in this- this peaceful home, hidden from the rest of the world.

 

“I get to call you whatever I want, Ver.” His voice was dark now, his emotions snapping back and forth just as she’d remembered. “Did you forget?”

 

Lucy’s lips curled into a sneer.

 

“Maybe I did.” She scoffed. “You know, after you left me to rot for a couple decades. But I guess it’s not a really big deal to you, is it?”

 

He tilted his head calculatingly, and took another step forward,

 

Verfall didn’t budge.

 

The gun was there only as a barrier now. She knew she wouldn’t be able to shoot him, even when protocol blared that he was on HYDRA’s hit list and needed to be eliminated. She couldn’t, because his programming was much stronger than HYDRA’s. 

 

Even if she could shoot him, she wouldn’t pull the trigger.

 

That was immoral. No matter how much she abhorred him- how much she wanted to drive a knife through his chest and watch him bleed.

 

That was- was wrong.

 

“I left because I had to.” He said calmly. “Not because I wanted to, Lucy.”

 

Disbelief flashed across her eyes.

 

“You promised.” She pressed, her voice trembling. “You promised. Then you left.”

 

He took another step forward, his chest pressing against her Glock and she watched mutely as he put a hand on the barrel. He grabbed it, his other hand sliding over hers and uncurling her fingers from the metal.

 

Her fingers loosened until she was no longer holding the gun.

 

“What could I do even if I stayed?” He inquired with a raised eyebrow.

 

He placed the weapon on the table and Lucy’s eyes trailed to it before staring back up at him. 

 

She noticed with vague alarm that his hands were still around hers. His loose grip wasn’t reassuring at all, especially when his grip could tighten in a matter of seconds.

 

“What you had been doing.” She started. “You- you hurt James and I but at least it was bearable. At least it wasn’t like this. The moment you left everything worsened-“

 

Dr. Schaffer’s lips tilted downwards into a frown and Lucy’s gaze flitted to his nose. Looking him in the eyes wasn’t permitted- well, it didn’t matter what or wasn’t permitted because he wasn’t her handler anymore.

 

But still.

 

“I left Joseph-“ he started.

 

“And he died.” She interrupted. 

 

“His son-“

 

“-is dead.” She bit out. “His grandson has no care for us because his father left him at an orphanage. The only thing stopping him from hurting us is his lack of moral ambiguity, which is only steadfast because his Second in Command keeps him at bay.”

 

Dr. Schaffer’s lips dipped into a discontented scowl, and Lucy kept her composure as he towered over her.

 

She was absolutely terrified- she knew he could feel it through the tremors travelling up and down her arm, reaching her fingertips. Her ability to speak was hanging on by a string, fueled only by anger that had been boiling for decades.

 

“Do you really think I wanted to leave? That I chose to?” He questioned.

 

Lucy stared at him with incredulity.

 

“Are you serious?” She spat. “Yes! You’re obligated to listen to no one but yourself! You don’t listen to anyone else’s perceptions or insight, and when you do, it’s only for your own benefit! You have no moral contract, so you’re basically off the rails and one step from insane! So yes, you chose to leave-“

 

Dr. Schaffer’s grip on her hands grew tighter and she faltered.

 

“You weren’t mine!” He snarled, his voice thunderous.

 

Lucy instinctively tried to take a step away. Dr. Schaffer’s hands kept her in place, his hands strong enough to make her wince. 

 

The fear was at her throat now, scratching her mind with fuzzy remembrance. She was supposed to stand tall, widen her stance, remain expressionless- but she wouldn’t.

 

She wouldn’t.

 

“What?” She whispered.

 

Dr. Schaffer clenched his jaw, and she squeezed her eyes shut as pain curled into her bones. For a few tense seconds, his grip remained vice-like, until his fingers loosened. 

 

“You were the Winter Soldier’s.” He stated calmly. “You belonged to him. You weren’t mine. And if I hadn’t left, I would’ve killed the Soldier where he stood.”

 

She cautiously pried her eyes open.

 

His eyes grazed over her face. 

 

She swallowed.

 

“You would’ve died.”

 

“Yes, and Arnim knew how I felt about his project. He despised me, always. So when he figured it out, he tried to have me killed. The other scientists on the project said I was too useful, that I hadn’t done anything incriminating to them.”

 

He paused.

 

“Well, you’re right. I don’t work for anyone- anything but myself. So fuck HYDRA.” He ran his tongue along his teeth. “I only joined because it had been my last order as a Colonel. Their idealisms, well, all of them were flawed. The world will always be in discourse, and HYDRA? They want to save it. But you cannot save humanity by killing it.”

 

Lucy blinked.

 

You cannot save humanity by killing it.

 

She’d said that, a long time ago, in Poland when he’d taken her from the HYDRA facility in order to put her through insufferable conditioning. She’d said it and he’d been delighted by the fact she’d shown true facets of herself.

 

She hadn’t thought he’d actually taken what she’d said to heart.

 

She hadn’t thought he’d even let himself hear it.

 

“You listened.” She said.

 

Dr. Schaffer tilted his head.

 

“I always have.” He agreed. “Did you not believe me when I said you were smart?”

 

Her moment of gratitude, though small, was quickly replaced by astonishment. He really thought she could genuinely believe a single word that left his mouth. She only believed him when, through her analysis, some of his words were plausible. 

 

She bit the inside of her cheek.

 

“Well, I think it’s dangerous to believe anything you say.” She blurted.

 

Her regret was instant as a short laugh escaped his lips. His smile widened with amusement and Verfall realized why this man was so much more dangerous than Sasha. At least Sasha was predictable. He always played the same games and was never too violent because his control over her was slim.

 

But Dr. Schaffer- she’d forgotten what it was like to make him angry. 

 

His grip on her wrists tightened until his nails broke skin, knuckles white with how much force he was putting into her hands. Hey eyes watered automatically and she clamped her mouth shut in order to remain silent.

 

Blood trickled down her forearms and Dr. Schaffer’s eyes glinted darkly.

 

“Get on your knees, Lucy.” He ordered. 

 

Lucy refused, staring up at him with defiance. 

 

He pressed his fingers into the fresh wounds and she groaned, her knees threatening to buckle from the pain. He frowned with distaste, and something snapped inside of her. That frown- it was never good when he frowned. It made her feel- feel-

 

She didn’t want to disappoint him because Herr wasn’t supposed to be upset.

 

Lu- Verfall dropped to her knees in one swift motion, her hands held above her head as Dr. Schqffer gazed down at her. She flinched as he sighed, his fingers loosening before letting go of her completely.

 

She kept her hands in the air, until he waved his hand, punching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Honestly, Ver, at this point you should know what makes me lose my temper.” He said as he inspected his bloodied nails.

 

He lowered himself into a crouch. His eyes shifted between her bracelets, before grabbing a flat screen device as thin as glass, completely see through as he turned a blue-lit circle.

 

She blinked profusely at the high-tech, like she wasn’t believing what she was seeing.

 

The little plates to her cuffs shifted and she watched as one of the pieces- latches?- opened. Confusion flickered across her features as he clicked several buttons on the device, and the metal inside clicked.

 

“I forgot how you looked when you get all confused.” Dr. Schaffer chuckled as he held the device to her.

 

She looked up at him then back down to the flat screen.

 

“It’s your mess.” His voice was suddenly cold. “Clean it.”

 

Verfall activated her abilities immediately and found herself feeling a small tingle. Which meant the bracelet and necklace were being activated but were working at a very low level. 

 

She turned the blood into water, then let it evaporate. His hands and the device were clean of blood now.

 

“And the floor- your arms.” He waved.

 

She listened attentively, taking care in cleaning the floor and her arms. The semicircle wounds around her wrists were already healing, turning into fainter cuts.

 

Dr. Schaffer hummed contentedly before slipping his hand underneath her chin. He tilted her head upwards and she looked to the side of his face.

 

“Lucy,” He started calmly, “you don’t want to stay here, and I’m not going to make you stay here. But I’m not fine with sending you back to HYDRA without a contingency plan.”

 

He pulled his hand away. 

 

Verfall tilted her head unsurely.

 

She didn’t want to leave. She- she didn’t want to follow Sasha because her original handler was right here and she could stay. She could stay with him instead and everything would be easy and Dr. Schaffer would give her orders like he used to and everything would go back to normal.

 

“Memorize this number.” He held up his device. “Call it when you and the Winter Soldier have an opening to escape. Understand?”

 

Her eyes flicked over the series of numbers, burning it into her memory, before looking back up at him. 

 

She opened her mouth, then closed it, looking down at the floor. She flattened her palms against her knees as Dr. Schaffer observed her.

 

“What is it?” He encouraged.

 

Verfall swallowed unsurely, taking a deep breath before looking to the side of his eyes.

 

“You don’t want me to stay, Herr.” She said quietly.

 

Dr. Schaffer leaned back onto the floor, sitting cross legged. He inhaled deeply. He placed a hand on the side of her neck, reaching up to her cheek and curling his pointer finger beneath her ear.

 

Verfall instinctively shut her eyes, leaning into the touch.

 

“Trust me, you’re not going to be very happy once you wake up as yourself.” He assured. “And you seem to need Sergeant Barnes, even when he is the Winter Soldier.”

 

She pursed her lips.

 

That wasn’t true. 

 

She knew he’d be satisfied if she stayed. He’d be more happy because she would do whatever he ordered and she would do her best to not anger him and he needed someone to talk to or- or hit even though she really really didn’t want that to happen but still- he was going to be alone and she didn’t- couldn’t- that wasn’t right-

 

She didn’t know she had started to panic until Dr. Schaffer shushed her, pulling her into his chest and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

 

“You’re alright.” He said softly, threading his fingers through her hair. “I’ll be alright, okay? You’ll thank me later. Well, you’ll be confused but you’ll thank me either way.”

 

That wasn’t true.

 

That wasn’t true and she knew so.

 

“Okay.” She mumbled.

 

He pulled back, and she supposed her agreement was worth the genuine smile he gave her. Dr. Schaffer stood, bringing her to stand beside him. He grabbed the USB drives from the table and tucked them into her hand. 

 

“Before I forget,” he stepped to the silver fridge nestled in the side of the kitchen, “I can’t have you walking out of here.”

 

Verfall followed beside him, his hand on her forearm as he pulled the fridge open. She blinked at the lack of food. There were only glass boxes of vials filled with clear serum. On the second shelf were stacks of IV drips and syringes, all pre-filled.

 

She looked curiously as Dr. Schaffer grabbed one of the syringes. He handed it to her and she held it patiently as he reached for the third shelf. He grabbed a small container, containing one of many other chemicals he had stored.

 

He shut the fridge and moved to one of the cabinets. He opened it to reveal rows of unused needles. He took one of them then shut it. He pressed the needle into the little whole of the container and drew a syringe full of the liquid. 

 

He motioned her to the chair he’d been seated on and she did so robotically. 

 

“You’ll be in trouble for this, won’t you?” He hummed as he took the needle he’d given her, uncapping it and flicking some of the liquid out.

 

Verfall blinked slowly.

 

“Yes, Herr. But it’s okay.” She assured as he frowned.

 

She held out her forearm as he grasped her elbow. She watched the needle slip underneath her skin, the chemicals entering her bloodstream. She felt energized almost immediately, her mind clearing and her abilities feeling less foggy. 

 

Dr. Schaffer removed the syringe once it emptied fully. 

 

He grabbed the other one and held it up to her.

 

“This one’s going to make you unconscious. When you wake up, your STRIKE team should find you.” He informed. “You can let them know what happened if they ask. They won’t be able to find this place.”

 

Verfall nodded, slightly relieved that she wouldn’t have to lie.

 

The needle pressed into her skin and he gently patted her cheek.

 

“It was good seeing you.” 

 

Verfall tilted her head as her vision started to blur.

 

He put the needle aside and crouched to her height, their eyes level.

 

He pursed his lips.

 

“I’m sorry.” 

Chapter 85: Eighty Four

"And I lay you down to rest.”

???, America

May, 2010

SHE WAS ON THE FLOOR of a moving vehicle when she awoke, her fingers twitching against cool metal before her eyes fluttered open. Her gaze adjusted to the dim lighting of the van, and she let out a small groan as pain finally registered, her wrists throbbing. She inhaled deeply as she tried to push herself into a sitting position. She immediately fell back, and she half-expected her head to slam into the ground.

 

Two warm hands grasped her shoulders, supporting her weight. She breathed softly, tilting her head to catch sight of Agent Rollins. His expression was flat as always, though his eyes were soft. He nodded his head towards the left and she shifted her gaze to see Commander Rumlow, sitting with a pinched expression, staring out the van window.

 

Guilt swelled in her chest.

 

She opened her mouth, then shut it. 

 

Agent Westfahl was sitting beside Agent Rumlow, a foot away, eyes shut, sleeping. She turned her head enough to see Agent Murphy and another agent in her peripheral vision. She tried to move into a kneeling position but Agent Rollins kept his hands firmly over her shoulders. He turned her, helping her lean against the van wall. 

 

He pulled his hands away and sat cross-legged in front of her.

 

“What happened?” He asked quietly. “You went radio silent. We couldn’t track you. Then you just- appeared.”

 

He placed a warm palm against the top of her hand, gesturing towards the ringlets pressed into her wrists, right above glimmering gold. He looked at her and she kept her eyes focused on the floor.

 

“Someone ran into me and stole the drives. It was a-a trap, I suppose. Defected HYDRA scientist Dr. Henry Schaffer was there.” She swallowed nervously. “He- I- the Weapon couldn’t shoot him. It is not physically possible for the Verfall Soldier to kill it’s original handler. That defies protocol.”

 

Agent Rollins nodded understandingly.

 

She continued.

 

“He said he missed me, then- then we argued. I told him- I was angry so I told him why he was so wrong. I said I couldn’t believe anything he really said and he-“ she lifted her hands slightly, letting Agent Rollins see “-he got upset.”

 

She watched as the agent clenched his jaw. He let go of her hand, letting loose a long sigh.

 

“It wasn’t that bad,” she added hurriedly, “I just do the wrong things a lot and Herr just lost his temper. It wasn’t his fault.”

 

That only seemed to upset Agent Rollins even more and she felt panic brew in her stomach as he screwed his eyes shut, taking a long deep breath.

 

“Okay. But it wasn’t your fault either. You understand that, right?” Agent Rollins assured.

 

Verfall hesitated.

 

But it had been her fault.

 

Agent Rollins let out a sad noise.

 

“It wasn’t your fault, alright?” He said. “Just know that.”

 

She nodded vigorously and Agent Rollins’s lips twitched into the only smile she’d ever seen on his face. The expression disappeared as his eyes shifted to the Commander, whose attention was on him now.

 

Verfall ducked her head, avoiding his sharp gaze.

 

He was angry, that much was obvious.

 

Agent Rollins let out a soft breath, standing to his feet.

 

“W-wait.” Verfall stammered. “The drives.”

 

He patted his pockets and Verfall’s lips formed into an ‘o’ in understanding. She leaned back into the van as she watched him approach the Commander. 

 

Agent Rumlow scowled at him as he sat down right beside him.

 

“Relax, Brock.” He muttered. “She didn’t run away on purpose. It was a set up.”

 

“Yeah, we would be fuckin’ dead right now if it wasn’t.” The Commander snapped, before turning to her. “Don’t you know you’re more important than the mission to Pierce? If you leave, you take our heads with you.”

 

He pointed aggressively between him and Agent Rollins.

 

Verfall swallowed, lowering her head further.

 

Agent Rumlow turned to look back out the window. Agent Rollins sighed, rolling his eyes. 

 

She wondered why Agent Rollins was so calm about coming close to death. Maybe he knew she wouldn’t actually leave willingly. She’d promised Joseph she would protect his family so well, he wasn’t exactly wrong. It was vaguely concerning though, that he was accepting of it- or she was just overthinking the situation.

 

She fidgeted with her fingers for a few seconds before hesitantly pulling herself forwards. She scooted across the ground in tentative movements, slow and steady while keeping her presence known.

 

She chewed the inside of her lip as she stopped in front of the Commander’s feet. He kept his gaze on the glass, though she knew he knew she was there.

 

With uncertainty she nudged his knee with her head.

 

Agent Rumlow’s eyes flicked to her for a split-second, before returning back to the window. She pursed her lips, hesitantly nudging him a second time.

 

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Agent Rollins blinked as he noticed her movements.

 

“Oh, come on, Brock, she’s trying to apologize for something that wasn’t even her fault.” Agent Rollins elbowed his Commander.

 

Agent Rumlow narrowed his eyes at Agent Rollins.

 

“We could’ve died.” He reiterated, then paused. “And we’re definitely not going to get off scot-free during mission debrief.”

 

Agent Rollins’s eye twitched.

 

“We‘ve been on dozens of life-threatening missions.” He said calmly. “This is nothing new.”

 

“It’s out of our control, Jack.” Agent Rumlow snapped. “Nothing has ever been like this. I might not be dead but I sure as hell might get demoted.”

 

“Hey.” Agent Rollins’s voice was cool, but not cold. “We’re in the same boat here, Brock. I’m not happy either. But don’t blame it on her.”

 

The Commander clenched his jaw, keeping Agent Rollins’s gaze before letting out a long defeated breath. 

 

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was right.

 

None of them had expected an interference with a person who was not working for Stark or HYDRA. None of them understood the depth of her programming with the man she encountered either.

 

But it was hard for Agent Rumlow to be calm when he had expected to be terminated just a few hours ago.

 

Losing a gun was one thing, losing a living Weapon that could take down an entire squadron of agents like a one woman army? That was a whole other ordeal that would ruin Alexander Pierce’s dinner for the rest of his week.

 

He did care about his status, but not as much as the ability to breathe- or have a head, for that matter.

 

Verfall looked up at Commander Rumlow with hopeful, glimmering eyes. He tilted his head to look down at her, pressed his lips into a thin line, before reaching forwards. He had no right to snap at her like that.

 

A hint of guilt buried itself into Agent Rumlow’s chest and he sighed.

 

She flinched instinctively as he threaded his fingers through her hair. 

 

“Sorry.” He muttered. “That was uncalled for. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. You were probably scared too, huh?”

 

His hands were soft, even though she’d seen him break someone’s nose.

 

Her shoulders loosened and she shut her eyes tiredly. The drugs in her system hadn’t yet worn off- she supposed Dr. Schaffer had made sure to keep the dosage high. 

 

Dr. Schaffer, who wasn’t here. Who’d told her to leave because he didn’t want her to stay and said that she didn’t want to stay even though she- she did.

 

Her eyes fluttered open at the thought.

 

Would he be upset that she found solace in the little kindness that bled through Agent Rollins’s gaze? The begrudging softness that Agent Rumlow forced himself to exude not because he wanted to keep his head, but because he felt morally obligated to?

 

“Herr isn’t scary.” She blurted. “He’s just- he gets upset easily. He used to talk to me and we danced a few times. He uh-he’s kind-“

 

“-until he’s not.” Agent Rumlow said dryly.

 

Verfall blinked.

 

She looked up at him.

 

“Until he’s not.” She agreed.

 

The STRIKE van came to a slow stop ten minutes later, and the Commander threw a balled up gum wrapper at Agent Murphy who blinked profusely, brows furrowing with confusion as he yawned and stretched. His eyes dropped to Verfall and his cheeks tinted red with embarrassment as he quickly wiped the little drool on his lips. 

 

She gazed at him with curiosity as the agent beamed at her happily. He opened his mouth to speak but the agent next to him let out a loud yawn, cutting his poor comrade off.

 

How- what?

 

Why was he with HYDRA? He was too bright, too not-HYDRA. 

 

Yet he was.

 

The agent she didn’t recognize caught her stare. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he pulled the van door open and exited the vehicle.

 

“That’s Agent Paul Mercy.” Agent Murphy blurted. “Thought you’d be confused. He’s new- I mean, I’m a bit new too. I recently joined the STRIKE team for my ability to pilot and hack into systems easily. I’m a vegan, and I advocate against animal cruelty whenever I can. I love watching Star Wars, let me tell you- best movies of the century and-“

 

Verfall blinked with disbelief at what she was hearing.

 

What.

 

The hell.

 

“Alright, that’s enough, Murphy.” Agent Rumlow pinched the bridge of his nose. “She doesn’t need to know that.”

 

Agent Murphy opened his mouth, then closed it. The brightness in his eyes dulled slightly as he ducked his head apologetically.

 

“Sorry, Commander.” He mumbled, almost gloomy as he exited the vehicle.

 

“You’ve already met him- he’s a little eccentric.” Agent Rollins said.

 

Agent Westfahl awoke next, jolting awake like he was on the frontlines. He sighed as he dragged himself out of the vehicle, muttering a ‘finally’ as he went.

 

The driver stood from her seat and Verfall stared at the female agent who observed her for a second before exiting the vehicle too.

 

Verfall turned her head to Agent Rollins with confusion.

 

“That’s Julia Adams.” Agent Rollins informed as he followed her gaze. “She’s cool.”

 

She nodded in understanding as she uncrossed her legs, standing to her feet. Only, she couldn’t quite get her footing and Commander Rumlow had to catch her before she toppled over.

 

She felt dizzy as the world spun.

 

“Hey, hey, you okay?” The Commander said with concern as he stood in front of her.

 

She blinked the stars out of her eyes, nodding.

 

“Dosage was too much- maybe.” She mumbled. “But Herr never gets it wrong. I’m just- not sure- I’m trying to be Verfall but it’s- ‘m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

 

Agent Rollins bit the inside of her lip at her words, clearly upset with. But he didn’t say anything so she guessed he wasn’t upset with her.

 

Agent Rumlow supported nearly half her weight as she stepped out of the van.

 

They were inside a full garage, with lines of other military vehicles and SUVs. She stumbled over her feet so the Commander kept a hand on her shoulder as they walked towards the garage entrance. 

 

They entered the HYDRA base, the whole STRIKE team trailing behind as they turned down the hall.

 

She was in trouble, wasn’t she?

 

Her eyes flicked across the halls until they turned into a conference room. There were leather seats lining a gray table, and Sasha was the only one sitting. He had a computer in front of him, typing away at the thin laptop. He shifted his gaze to the team who filed in and she could see the distaste in his eyes.

 

Then he looked at her.

 

She avoided his sharp eyes, staring at her feet like she’d stolen the last cookie from the cookie jar.

 

“Mr. Secretary-“ the Commander started.

 

“I suppose you’re going to say you can explain?” Sasha’s voice was cold.

 

Verfall swallowed nervously as she felt the Commander stiffen imperceptibly. She could only feel it through his hand. He was already frustrated and Sasha would only make him feel worse.

 

The Commander shut his mouth, remaining silent as Sasha shut his computer with slow, calculating movements. He didn’t stand, just remained sitting.

 

He was physically lower than everyone else, but he held the most power in the room.

 

Sasha didn’t speak, and Commander Rumlow didn’t either.

 

“The drives, sir.” Agent Rollins said, taking a step forwards.

 

Sasha’s eyes flitted to him as the agent put the drives on the table in front of him, his posture calm and collected. Agent Rollins stepped back in line, and Agent Rumlow relaxed slightly as Sasha’s displeased look turned into one not dissimilar to confusion.

 

He stared at Verfall and she shifted on her feet unsurely, until she cleared her throat and all eyes flicked to her.

 

“I can- explain.” She muttered.

 

Sasha tilted his head, observing her current state, before leaning back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“Get out. All of you.” He said to the STRIKE team, then looked at her. “Stay.”

 

The Commander let go of her shoulder and she kept herself steady as he turned, followed by Agent Rollins and everyone else. 

 

Verfall flinched when the door shut behind her. She hesitantly lifted her gaze to meet Sasha’s eyes. His lips were pressed into a firm frown, upset but also- relieved? She didn’t really understand, not that she needed to. 

 

“Come here.” He ordered and she briskly stepped around the meeting table.

 

Her legs wobbled and she stopped for a second, biting the inside of her lip as she continued forwards at a slower pace. Her foot came to a stop in front of Sasha and he turned his chair so he was facing her. He waved his hand and Verfall dropped to her knees fluidly.

 

She clasped her hands behind her back and she winced at the sharp pain in her wrists. 

 

Shouldn’t they be healed by now?

 

She dismissed the thought. Maybe Dr. Schaffer wanted it to hurt longer. Or maybe he’d pressed a little too hard and a tendon had snapped.

 

She didn’t know.

 

“Let me see.” Sasha frowned.

 

She held her arms out, trembling as his warm hand grasped her palms. He turned them, eyes trailing the red marks on her wrists.

 

“Did you do this? Did the agents?” His voice was dark.

 

She’d never heard him so angry before.

 

“No.” She mumbled. “Herr did.”

 

Sasha narrowed his eyes.

 

“Herr.” He repeated and Verfall squeezed her eyes shut.

 

“Someone stole the USB drives and I followed because it was the mission. But he led me to Dr. Schaffer. He- Herr was- he was- content with me. I wasn’t. I argued- we argued and I told him I couldn’t believe anything he said and he got upset. He didn’t mean to lose his temper he just did. It’s not his fault. I made him upset.” She explained hurriedly.

 

“So he did this because you said one wrong thing?” Sasha questioned.

 

Verfall nodded.

 

He scoffed, anger from his eyes bleeding into his throat as he let go of her hands. She watched with uncertainty as his expression contorted into one of incredulity, before he ran a hand over his face.

 

He exhaled loudly.

 

“He doesn’t have the right.” He finally said. “So it wasn’t your fault. He intercepted your mission and none of us expected him to do such a reckless thing.” 

 

If there was one thing she knew about Dr. Schaffer, it was the fact he was the embodiment of compulsive recklessness.

 

Sasha stoood from his chair, moving to sit in front of her. She blinked, flinching as his hand slid underneath her chin. She locked eyes with him for a split-second, before she quickly ducked her head. He kept a steady hand underneath her jaw so the movement barely did anything.

 

“You’re safe.” He said, though it sounded more as if he was talking to himself, relieved. “You’re safe.”

 

He pulled her into a warm embrace and she closed her eyes. She felt safe. How ironic- feeling safe in the arms of a lion who was only waiting to strike.

 

He drew back, examining her expression.

 

“Agent Rumlow isn’t at fault, is he?” He asked.

 

Verfall shook her head fiercely.

 

“No. No. The Commander did nothing wrong. He gave me instructions and I failed to follow them right.” She said defensively. “He and Second in Command Rollins did their best.”

 

Sasha hummed.

 

“And if I replaced the Commander with someone else?” He questioned.

 

She opened her mouth, then shut it.

 

The Commander couldn’t be replaced by anyone because he was one of the best mission handler’s even if he couldn’t control his emotions all the time but that was okay since Agent Rollins was there to keep him calm and help him when he needed help.

 

She looked down at the floor again.

 

“Then that’s what Sasha wants, and I’ll listen.” She replied, though her voice sounded sullen.

 

She could feel his stare on her.

 

Then he chuckled, patting her head softly.

 

“I won’t.” He said, before smiling. “Do you want to rest?”

 

Verfall tilted her head, gazing up at him.

 

She remained silent.

 

His smile widened, eyes soft.

 

“It’s time for you to rest, Verfall.”

Chapter 86: Epilogue

"Knowing something and understanding it is not the same thing."

???, America

May, 2012

THERE WAS SOMETHING DIFFERENT IN the air when she awoke. The familiar cold of cryostasis was still bone deep inside of her, like frostbite that’d burned into her organs, twisted into one icy glacier weighing her body to the floor. So it’s not the brumous, raw cold that confused her; it’s the surface she lay on. Beneath her cold fingertips she felt something soft, like a blanket or a sheet- it’s thin. She knew this by pinching the fabric between her forefinger and thumb. There was a nerve deep drowsiness hanging onto her spine, connected to every dip in her brain. 

 

She fought it, tried to feel without feeling. 

 

There was a sound that startled her from her struggle. She failed to climb out of the murky depths of consciousness without being lucid. It was familiar like the cold, so she guessed it was better.

 

The sound echoed again, muted like she wasfar away.

 

A lock.

 

She knew she was expected to stand, regardless of her half frozen flesh and her shivering body- she must stand and be attentive for orders. That was her role outside of cryostasis. They expected her to stand when it shouldn’t have been physically possible.

 

She tried to will her body to move. When her hand lifted, there was a clink and a sharp pain of something digging into her skin. She looked down, blinked at the thin silver cuff around her wrists, stared.

 

There are only three locks, each one clicking slowly, like the person behind it was uncertain. 

 

She blearily realized she could see the person behind the door. It was a man clad in black, an agent with a symbol she didn’t recognize on his shoulder- no, that isn’t right. She knew that symbol, why did she know it?- and he was far from the door. 

 

He was pressing buttons on a flat screen something.

 

She was already half-sitting, supported by something soft beneath her. Everything was so soft, so bright. It hurt to see, to assess, but she did so anyway.

 

As she looked, stared, she knew this: her cell was made entirely of glass. 

 

They put her in a cell made of glass, where she could see anything and everything around her at any time of the day whenever she needed to. Her eyes flicked back to the agent, blinking profusely, water droplets clinging to her lashes. Her expression was blank as the glass cell slid open, almost as if the walls could spin. 

 

It made her awed- she wished she could see it again, see the glass spin close, then open. 

 

She doesn’t receive the luxury as the agent stepped inside. He had blonde hair, short, with bright blue eyes. But they were more gray. 

 

The cell closed, but she didn’t see it, her attention now focused on the man- why was everything so blurry?- approaching her.

 

It was fear that settled fast.

 

Faster than the cold of cryofreeze. It’s something bone shaking, something in the pit of her stomach that shouted this isn’t right. This person is not a part of the STRIKE team and wore a symbol on their combat suit. Which meant they weren’t HYDRA.

 

Which meant-

 

There was a new sharpness to her eyes, the foggy edge to her mind dissipating as the cold turned into something numbing. When the agent came closer she pulled hard on the cuffs and they snapped. The swift movement seemed to scare the agent, or at least intimidate. She forced her body to move and she fluidly jumped off the bed- it’s a bed, she realized- landing on the ground in a crouch.

 

She stared at the agent, watching as the man seemed to abort the idea of approaching her. Her eyes flicked to the device in his ear. He was receiving orders, and she could hear a wisp of it, the crackle.

 

She didn’t show it but she was terrified.

 

If this wasn’t HYDRA. . .what- who?

 

She watched the agent frown, until he removed the earpiece altogether.

 

Verfall eyed the object as he put it in his pocket- there’s another object still behind his ear, a hearing aid?

 

Then he sat in the center of the cell.

 

She blinked profusely. That was confusing. Why was he- she could snap his neck like snapping a carrot in two. She could take the knives hidden in his boots and tear his sternum. But he wasn’t leaving like he should’ve- like he was ordered.

 

She didn’t know how long she stayed crouched, or how long the man sat, waiting, but by the time she leaned back to sit, her body had started to ache. The man didn’t seem too concerned with her movements, although she could tell he was watching her from his peripheral vision.

 

Her eyes flicked to the bed, then back to the agent.

 

He slowly moved, turning to look at her.

 

She tensed.

 

Before finally observing the rest of her environment. Outside of the glass cell were more agents clad in black, all having the same symbol- it was an eagle. She knew why it was familiar now.

 

This was SHIELD.

 

Slowly, calmly, the agent raised his hands, palms open as if he was surrendering.

 

“My name is Clinton Barton.” He said. “But you can call me Clint. What’s yours?”

 

Verfall stared at him blankly.

 

He wanted a reply, she knew that, but she didn’t- she’s not supposed to, because he wasn’t HYDRA.

 

Clint seemed to take her silence for fear and placed his hands flat against his knees, smiling at her softly. There was pain behind his eyes too. Like he felt empathy for her.

 

“I know you’re scared. I mean, if I woke up in an unfamiliar place after being taken out of a fridge, I would be too. But I’m just trying to help.” He paused. “You know Natasha? Agent Romanoff? She’s listening to us right now. You’ll be able to talk to her if you cooperate.”

 

What.

 

Natalia? She was- of course, she was here. She was a part of SHIELD when they’d met with Stark, hadn’t she? 

 

But- was Clinton- Clint?- threatening her? It doesn’t seem like it. She eyed him warily, then slowly moved closer. 

 

Clint didn’t look overjoyed by the movement, but he also didn’t seem upset about it either. She let herself relax barely, letting him know she was willing to listen, at the very least.

 

She didn’t say how this was all wrong. That she was supposed to wake on a steel table with Sasha there to keep her and Winter warm, or the Commander with Agent Rollins and their soft jackets. She wasn’t supposed to speak long sentences unless it was required- the mask around her face was there for a reason.

 

“Nat knows you're not Lucia Bastiani, which means I do too. SHIELD does as well.” Clint said, soft and calm. “So, is it alright if you tell me your name?”

 

It was not alright.

 

She swallowed nervously.

 

“The Weapon does not have a name. Only a designation and alias.” Her voice was hoarse. “The Weapon apologizes.”

 

Clint’s expression changed- he seemed to experience the five stages of grief before he pressed a smile back onto his face. It was still real, but the sadness behind his eyes was brighter- more vibrant and noticeable.

 

“You had a name before-“ he started.

 

Verfall shuddered, pulling back.

 

“The Weapon does not have a name, and has never had a name. Failure to recognize this will result in punishment.” She recited monotonously.

 

Clint bit the inside of his lip, before standing.

 

She heard more footsteps behind him and she pushed herself against the glass, shifting to keep her footing low, calculating. She eyed Clint, keeping him in her view.

 

She looked back and forth unsurely as a group of people stood at the entrance. The cell door opened and Clint stepped aside. Verfall blanched.

 

Her hair was shorter, curled into perfect loops, her eyes just as sharp and bright and green.

 

Natalia gave her a soft smile.

 

“Hello, Verfall.” 

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Orphic Series