An hour later, Steve was out cold, and Natasha was nowhere near such bliss. He had stopped fussing in thanks to her, and now laid there, snoring and snuggled next to her. She was exhausted, but knew it was only worse for him int he past week or so. He was more important, and deserved to be since he was the one always willing to put himself last. No questions asked.
Natasha slid out of bed, knowing he wouldn't wake. Steve rolled to the center of the mattress once she was gone, landing on his back now that he was no longer supported by her body. She made her way down the cold tunnel of a hallway once outside the room, cement floor biting at her bare feet. Water dripped from the pipes above her, which she could feel but was unable to see due to the poor lighting.
There had been a common area set up in the hideout, made to resemble a kitchen in what may have been a former employees lounge when the dam was still operational. She had turned on the overhead light and retrieved a bottle of water from the small refrigerator before taking a seat on the bar stool that sat in front of the counter.
The counter top was metal, her skin tingled from the cold. Everything was a mess, and she had been trained to handle messes, but this had far surpassed that. This was worse than New York, worse than what had just happened in DC. The difference was then, they were a team, and now they were broken pieces. There was no certainty on what was to happen next, no protocol. Natasha didn't function well without a plan of attack. And now, their fearless leader was drowning in his own guilt that had trapped him inside his own mind.
Natasha jumped fast enough that the stool she sat on squeaked against the floor when a hand landed on her shoulder.
" Sorry" Sam said from behind her with a bit of a laugh, " I didn't think it was possible to startle a superhero."
She settled down and pulled the cap off her bottle as he walked around the side if the counter, " I am far from a superhero."
Sam poured himself a glass of orange juice, a favorite of his, " just naturally an insomniac?"
" Steve was keeping me awake" she ran her fingers through her knotted hair, " no fault of his own."
" Is he asleep?"
" Yeah. But I had to tranquilize him, I had some left overs on me."
Sam looked up from the counter, " you what? Seriously?"
Natasha shrugged, " I had to. He won't sleep. And when he does, he has nightmares. Really bad nightmares, I can show you the bruises. Not that I blame the guy for any of it."
Sam sat on the at the stool across from her, " he seems pretty rattled. Not that I knew a lot of the guy before, but he seemed pretty together."
She nodded to confirm, " I wish I could help him. I've been down this road before, not the entire way, but close. Best friend becomes the enemy, brain washed. Except now" she paused, " he didn't know his best friend was even alive. All at once."
" He talked about wanting to find him. Actually, he hasn't stopped talking about it since we ended up here."
Natasha leaned forward, resting her head on her hands, " I know he does, and I want to help. But we're walking targets with no back up the second we walk out that door. I'm not sure going out on a hunt is the best idea right now."
It didn't take long for Sam to side with his new friend, " the longer we wait, the further away he gets."
She looked up, " we also don't know how dangerous he is."
Same leaned in, dark eyes meeting hers. For a moment, the falling water behind them was the only sound that could be heard.
" Someone pulled Steve out of that river. How dangerous could he really be?"
Flashback- 1944, Germany
He awoke, gasping for air, choking on his own coarse throat in a desperate attempt to revive himself. Heavy eyelids pried apart for what felt like the first time, vision was blurred, and he was only able to see blurred outlines of the poor lighting above him. His chest heaved, attempting to catch his breath as though someone had been choking him this entire time. A few blinks later, he had a clearer vision of the dim overhead lamp that hung directly about him. The lightbulb flickered, he couldn't see anything else.
A low growl of pain escaped, the memory of what torment his body had been through came rushing back to him- his muscles could remember even if he could not just yet. His back arched against the metal table he had been laying on, tears sprang to his eyes as a reaction. There was only a silence around him, he could only assume that he had been left alone, but it seemed strange that he was.
His left arm clutched the side of the examination table, staggering to pull himself into a sitting position, wincing along the way. The tears in his uniform revealed skin that was tainted with dirt and blood, his vision became more clear as he continued moving and examining himself in the state he had been left in.
He collapsed at his first attempt to stand, heavy legs easy giving way- the same right hand stopped breaking his fall. It had not yet occurred to him that his opposite arm, which was covered by some kind of sheet, had no feeling to it and remained close to his body. There was finally enough strength in his legs to stand once reaching the door that led out of the rustic laboratory- the surroundings starting to look somewhat familiar.
A sharp pull was given, but the door did not move. In a weak state, he was mad at himself to think that he would be left on the table with no restraints, in an unlocked room. With a tight grip on the door handle, he pulled himself to stand. The sheet fell from his body, and what little light there was in the room now reflected off the now exposed right arm.
His jaw hung loose, breaths coming to a halt.
Th arm- his arm0 was now sheeted in scales of metal that attached at the shoulder (for as far as he could see, where his sleeve had been torn off) and ended at his fingertips. The shock only deepened as he was unable to determine if the metal was a cover for his own arm, or had been replaced entirely. The fingers, his fingers if they were, curled upon his command. He used the arm to take another attempt at the door, and this time, it was ripped from the hinges with little effort from him. The intensity of the strength he just used startled him.
But there was no time to dwell. His ear drums were suddenly bombarded with a piercing alarm that began echoing all around him, almost like the distress call of a very large and angry bird. Startled, he moved as quickly as possible down the hallway. He thought he could run, but was not able to adjust to how badly his body was damaged in a fall that was meant to kill him.
He rounded a corner, hearing an army of footsteps that were not far behind, accompanied by yelling that sounded like Russian . It was fair to assume that he had been stripped of any weapons he had on him when he was last with Steve. The injured leg was dragging behind him, the corridor was dark, some kind of underground lair, and he was only guessing on how to escape.
" Sargent Barnes!" someone, a man with a thick accent, yelled form behind him. He was almost curious that his name and been used, and by someone who was speaking English.
He made the mistake of stopping to see who it was that was behind him. Perhaps someone he knew, someone that would be able to help. But, it was a mistake. Instead, he felt a sharp bite in the side of his neck, causing his body to fall to the floor without any resistance. The metal limb struck the floor with a crashing sound, and he almost relaxed without the added stress to attempt an escape.
His body went numb and paralysis soon set in- whether it was temporary or not, he could not tell. Eye lids became heavy again, and he could hardly even feel the air leave his lungs. He was trapped, a prisoner againA name that could not be heard escaped his throat, hidden by the deep breathing.
The figure, whomever it was that had behind him, had finally appeared. The drug in the dart that had pierced him had almost reached its full climax. The individual had knelt at his side, leaning over him, though his face could not be seen at the time.
" We have many plans in store for you, James" it said in a tone that was so calming it was terrifying, " you're going to be one of a kind, a super solider" there would have been an objection if he could, " we're just getting started."
On the brink of a complete blackout, he felt a tear slide down his temple. " I'm not a solider" he choked, " I'm a monster."
