Art Therapy 2
Hope is a tiny speck of white, surrounded by a bigger area of blue. The outside of the paper is red hurt and orange anger and grey confusion and black forgetting. He curls the sides of the paper under so the Hope shows the most.
Steve smiles at him, but his eyes are leaking. That means he is sad. The Soldier doesn't like that. He stays close to the clear wall until it is time for Steve to go.
He looks at hope as he eats his rations dinner that night. Hope is a scary thing. Hope is too big. Hope makes him think he might remember enough to be useful again to Steve, so that he would be allowed out of storage. (Hope makes him think he might be a person again.)
Hope is too big. He pushes Hope under the door, out into the world where it belongs.
When Steve comes the next day, Steve starts to push Hope back into the room. The Soldier shakes his head No and pushes back, forces the paper out of his room.
Then he realizes what he's done and kneels. He closes his eyes because he doesn't want to see Steve punish him. If he can keep his eyes closed, he will not see it and he can keep a picture in his mind of Steve that does not hurt.
He doesn't know when Steve leaves. Eventually he hears dinner arriving. There is another slice of pie, still warm. He takes the pie to the corner where he feels less exposed (is that what safe is?) and eats it. He knows he should eat the food quickly (don't waste their time) but he can't help savoring the pie, just a bit.
Delicious is his favorite color.
Steve comes back the next day. He picks up Hope from where it sat all night long and begins to tape it to the clear wall. The Soldier your name is tries to hide his flinch, but Steve sees it. He moves Hope to the far wall, where it's still visible but not so close.
The Soldier (who doesn't have a name) sits down across from Hope. With a wall and distance between him and Hope, it doesn't push on him so much. It doesn't make him uncomfortable (not as much).
Steve draws while he stares. At the end, he tapes up a picture on his side of the wall. It shows the brown haired man, standing over a small blond man. Three others are standing aggressively, but the brown haired man is stopping them. Underneath, he wrote You kept me safe. I will never hurt you.
The Soldier is silent. The Soldier is compliant. The Soldier is not stupid, no matter what the handlers and technicians and operatives think and say.
He needs to find out what I will never hurt you means.
He draws, but he does not give it to Steve. Steve looks pleased.
He draws, but he does not show it to Steve, pushes it under his mattress instead. Steve smiles at him.
He rips up the paper. Steve looks confused, but not angry.
He plans to...he plans to do something big. A rebellion. It takes him many days to decide that it must be done. He doesn't want to, but he must know.
He breaks every crayon and throws them at the wall. Steve sits patiently.
That night, the Soldier you don't have a name uses the broken pieces of the crayons to draw all over the floor and walls, scribbles that turn into colors that turn into fear and anger and delicious and not punished and sad and shame and loss. By the morning, all of the crayons are gone, worn down to nubs and crumbs like he is. The Soldier don't hope for a name hope is too big goes to the corner and hides his face and cries at the loss of the crayons and waits for hurt.
When Steve arrives he laughs but he smiles when he does it. This confuses the Soldier you don't have a name. Steve's picture this day is of the brown haired man with a tilted smile, holding up a fist. But the fist has one finger extended. Underneath is written You tell 'em, Bucky.
The fist is not efficient. The Soldier stop hoping for a name does not understand.
He is not punished.
He is fed.
He is allowed to sleep.
Steve comes back. He brings new crayons, one box for the Soldier hoping for a name and one for himself. Steve spends the day's time writing on many sheets of paper. Before he leaves, he tapes them along the bottom of the clear wall. They stretch almost from wall to wall. Each one says the same thing. I will never hurt you.
The Soldier hoping for a name cannot think of any more ways to provoke hurt.
He must be more brave.
He draws a memory, a woman in a blue dress. He shows it to Steve, his heart pounding and his breath coming too fast. Steve puts his hand on the clear wall close to the picture, tears in his eyes but a smile on his lips. He writes Your mom Winnifred (we called her Winny).
No one takes the paper. No one takes the memory.
The Soldier your name is draws more memories and puts them on the wall next to his mattress, so he can look at them and trace them in the night. One day he does this while Steve is there.
No one takes his memories.
Even though the paper stays on the wall opposite from the clear wall, Hope moves back into his chest.
He has a mother.
If he has a mother, perhaps he has a name. your name is James Buchanan Barnes
He draws name. He writes it on the walls, in every language he knows. Name. имя. Nombre. 名字 Nom. NAME.
He spends the day staring at it.
The next day, instead of drawing, he writes Who is James Buchanan Barnes?
Steve answers He is my best friend.
The Soldier your name is James Buchanan Barnes asks Who is the Winter Soldier?
Steve looks away before answering He is who they forced my friend to be. But he is not who my friend is.
The Soldier your name is James Buchanan Barnes draws ice. He draws killing. He draws forgetting. He draws punished. He asks for tape and puts them on the far wall, away from Steve. He tapes them so the image faces the wall, not himself. Not Steve.
The Soldier James Buchanan Barnes writes I don't want to kill people.
He writes I am James.
The next day, the door opens.