CHAPTER SIX – Sleepwalking Past Hope

[January 1944 – HYDRA Base]

I couldn't breathe properly in the small amount of area my captors permitted for me to be held in. My nostrils flared upon inhaling the strong stench of damp and dust when I woke from a deep state of unconsciousness. My memories fuzzy to say the least; it didn't surprise me considering the unbearable thump in my head. When I struggled to stretch out my limbs, the chains that bonded me in this tiny cell clinked and jingled together. The annoying sound wasn't enough to distract me from my headache or the way my muscles seized up in protest at the slightest move.

I simply gave up in the end, resting my head back against the concrete wall. I didn't know what day it was, or how long I'd been out. I'd woken in the dark, in what I assumed was a moving vehicle. Ever since the movement occurred often, the gentle hum of an engine making my cell vibrate for long periods. However, a fragile drop of water hitting my forehead destroyed my moment of reflection. A slight crack in the ceiling above was enough space for water to form – I gathered it was responsible for the damp patches on my dirty clothes.

I squirmed in my restraints while the delicate drop slid along the neat path of my nose, tickling the senses I couldn't possibly scratch before falling off the end.

Seconds later a thud rebounded against the iron door before me. More droplets of rain slated through the crack, the delicate skin of my wrists beginning to chafe against the handcuffs as I struggled, despite knowing I couldn't fight whatever waited on the other side. The door awkwardly scrapped over the concrete floor as it was forcibly opened revealing a HYDRA soldier.

"How are you feeling this morning, young lady?"

I blinked through the confusion of the foreign language spoken, trying to pinpoint where I'd heard the familiar voice before. The armed soldier stepped aside, and Doctor Zola took his place. I felt relieved for some reason and managed a reply. "I-I don't understand what you said."

"I asked how you are feeling this morning?"

"Where am I?"

"Do not worry yourself about such matters."

He gave the soldier a curt nod, sending the soldier wordlessly towards me. the chains rattled obviously as I attempted to shrink away, helpless to defend myself if he threatened violence. The soldier didn't even acknowledge my existent, focusing on undoing the bolts to release my arms. They fell like dead weights to my sides, knees buckling and giving out beneath the sudden pressure. Collapsing in a heap to the ground, my knees scraped against the rough surface of the floor.

"Bring the fräulein please, soldier."

The soldier unbolted the chains securing my feet and then roughly hauled me up. I stumbled like a drunk against his side as he marched us from the cell into the well-lit, narrow corridor. I groaned into the blinding light erupting through large windows displaying a rapidly moving scenery.

"I'm on a train?" I frowned through my fingers shielding my eyes.

"Yes."

"Where are you taking me? What do you want from me?"

"I must run tests."

"Tests? What kind of tests?" I questioned trying to get my bare feet to move in time with the soldier's brisk march while glancing at Zola who was busy studying the papers upon his clipboard.

"I must understand how the serum modifies your cells."

"Serum? I don't understand…what are you talking about? What have you Nazi bastards done to me?"

Zola raised his eyebrows at me, but not in the infuriated way, I anticipated. A sense of curiosity appeared in his gaze, as if standing before was a prized piece of art, rather than a human being.

"Forgive me if I pass over complicated details of your procedure," he gestured to my knees, my gaze falling and widening as the bloodied flesh healed gradually before my very eyes. "I injected you with a serum based on the formula Erskine used on Captain America. Unfortunately, plans to retrieve a vial of his serum were unsuccessful and I made do with generating my own."

Having worked on Project Rebirth I understood what he spoke about. "Are we the same?"

"No, my dear girl, similar in most enhancements. When I run my tests, I shall know more. He is the reason we are constantly moving. He entered the base you attempted to break into, releasing all the prisoners. Schmidt was ever so mad."

"Prisoners…" I remember Bucky and the others held in the cell next to mine. "They were all released?"

Zola curtly nodded and relief flooded me. "You are our only test subject not held by our enemies."

"When did this happen?"

"A month ago, a mere day or so after we removed you from your cell."

"Why me? Why are you doing this to me?" I whispered grasping for a decent breath, yet it seemed my lungs weren't filling up with air fast enough. I couldn't control my racing heartbeat and found myself becoming lightheaded. My movements became sluggish and the soldier grunted, his footsteps staggering as he was forced to adjust his grip of my waist.

"Doctor!"

Zola turned around, standing before me to shine a light in my eyes. "Breathe, my girl –" I sobbed, blindly grasping at the soldier to keep myself standing. "Calm yourself!"

I wanted to answer but once the tears started, they wouldn't stop falling, rolling as an unleashed river down my face. Almost as quickly, a warmth and the scent of woody cologne burned my nostrils; the soldier scooped my exhausted figure up into his arms. My head rested heavily against his board chest, tears sinking into the thick material of his uniform.

"Take her to the procedure room!" Zola barked.

The soldier shadowed Zola's hurried steps along the corridor, rounding a corner sharply. He entered another room and set me down upon a cold steel table. My back arched off the surface, the coldness stinging like a white-hot heat. The soldier braced a hand upon my stomach, pushing me down and I remained still while trying not to choke on my emotions.

"What are you doing?" I murmured, my head shifting to one side just in time to observe Zola stick me with a needle. My blurry gaze was transfixed on watching crimson blood fill the vial, a feeble moan vibrating my lips when an empty vial took the place of a full one.

"Help her sit up."

The soldier roughly pulled me into a sitting position, a firm hand on my shoulder keeping me still. "Should I collect the instructor?"

"Yes," Zola nodded. "Inform him her training can commence tomorrow, she will be well by then. I will send a telegram to Schmidt; she needs to be treated better. When did she last eat or bathe?"

"I was ordered to guard the door, nothing else," the soldier replied gruffly, the two talking through me.

I tuned out the conversation Zola began with the soldier in their native tongue, gently shifting my legs over the side of the table, letting them hang there while studying my surroundings. It appeared like any other surgical room you would find in a civilized hospital. It wasn't its appearance though, that perked my interest. I noticed a chair on the opposite side of the room, a table beside it occupying what appeared to be an electro shock therapy unit. I'd only seen something like that once before, and nervously eyed the paddles meant to press to a person's temples.

I looked down at the ripped holes in my pants, lowering a hand to finger the frayed bloodied edges. I slipped off the table, walking unhindered towards the mirror in the corner. I studied my reflection, surprised to find it unchanged. Every feature I'd seen before from the hazel eyes and lightly tanned flesh, to the dark brown waves reaching my breasts. Nervously, I reached for the hem of my shirt, lifting it gradually to discover my muscles were defined and stomach flat, with no slight bump to remind me of the weight gained during puberty. The material slipped through my fingers as I turned on Zola.

"What do you plan to do with me now? Are you going to drain every drop of blood in my veins?"

"My dear –"

"–harvest my organs –"

"Please –"

"–and dump me in a shallow grave! Or better yet, send my empty carcass back to the States!" I spat angrily, hands tightening into hard fists. "Is winning this war so god damn important that you'll experiment on innocent people?"

"You are the exception to the rule, my dear. Your body has appeared to have bonded with the serum. With the right training you will become HYDRA's very own Captain America. You can turn the tide of this war in our favor."

A deep pit of dread consumed me with his words, and tears easily reformed, blurring my gaze once again. My lashes clumped together when my lids couldn't hold back the tears any longer. It should've been a sweet release to cry, to mourn for the life I'd fought so hard to create in the first place – only to have it snatched away from the evil I wanted to fight.

I glanced up through my damp vision as Zola went back to making his notes. Despite my anger, I couldn't think of a way out of this situation. Under the soldier's glare I silently vowed to be HYDRA's puppet until I found a way to secure my freedom and take the bastards down with me.