A/N: Happy holidays to my readers! Now for the finale, fasten your seatbelts: this is 8.5k words-long. Also putting up a WARNING for physical and mental abuse/torture and sexual assault.
Doctor List sat quietly across from von Strucker in his office, looking around aimlessly at anything but the Baron. He had been yanked from his lab at von Strucker's request, and he knew exactly why. He nervously tugged at the sleeve of his white coat all the while trying to keep a straight face. His boss was most certainly not happy – he could practically feel the building heat of his anger just a few feet away.
After hearing about Wanda Maximoff's sudden violent outburst against Hydra agents, von Strucker's fury nearly blindsided him into putting his hands on the girl. Luckily, List had gotten word before von Strucker ever stepped inside the room that held Miss Maximoff. He had been able to semi-calm his boss down by reminding him that Alexander Pierce would've not appreciated such behavior from a top Hydra official. von Strucker huffed and slid past him without saying another thing, and though another possible crisis had been averted, there was now newfound uncertainty.
It was a total mystery as to why Miss Maximoff attacked out of nowhere. Everything had been going so well; the physical training, the development of her powers. There had been no warning signs – and there were no reasons for it. The trigger of her caprice was unknown. If List were to bet on which twin would've rebelled first, he'd put his money on the boy, Pietro. It just wasn't in Miss Maximoff's nature to act so hysterical.
The fact that she did not only revealed a huge issue, but it also exposed the unpreparedness of the agents in charge of the facility. She had been able to easily hex seven armed men into the air like they were toys, and the fight would've lasted longer than it did had she not abruptly paused. She allowed the agents subdue her, and it scared the shit out of Doctor List. He was very aware of her capabilities, yet he had never imagined the risk of Miss Maximoff – or her brother – going rogue.
The likelihood of that became crystal clear to Doctor List, the unexpected realization that they didn't have a way to keep their abilities in check. Their only way to absolute control was using their brain against them, but with their powers, could some sort of immunity exist within them? They wouldn't know until the twins actually went through the cleansing, but even, would it work? If it took Hydra nearly 15 years to finally seize every corner of the Winter Soldier's brain, what was in store for Hydra to take control the minds of two superhumans?
List knew von Strucker was asking himself these same questions. For the first time ever throughout the process, the Baron was having doubts. If Miss Maximoff was to attack again during the transfer ride to the United States and escape, it would spell out disaster for Hydra. They just couldn't risk releasing the twins to the world without exerting total mind-control on them. They were weapons of mass destruction and if put into the wrong hands, Hydra and their allies could come crashing down by the millions, no question in an effort led by SHIELD and the Avengers themselves.
And the blame would fall ultimately on the shoulders of the Baron and Doctor List.
von Strucker sighed and he rubbed his tired eyes with one hand. List still kept his eyes away from his boss, the prolonging silence raising his anxiety level.
"I know what you're going to say," he started and it got List's attention. "That the twins pose a danger to Hydra. That sending them to America could jeopardize everything."
List opened his mouth to confirm, but closed it and instead nodded.
von Strucker released a noise of disbelief. "Well. You're wrong."
List's eyes became saucers. "What?"
von Strucker straightened his spine and sat up in his leather chair, the bags under his eyes becoming more dark in the light. He laid his rough wrinkly hands flat on his chair and in a low, serious tone, he said, "They'll be unconscious during the entire transfer. I had already been discussing that with Pierce before Miss Maximoff's little temper tantrum. I won't lie and say she hasn't bared herself as a hazard, because she has and it does have me on edge. But once they leave here, they're Pierce's problems and not ours anymore." He then added, "So whatever little speech you had planned on telling me that we shouldn't send them, you can forget about it."
List's mouth formed a small O-shape. He hadn't formed a speech, though he was right that he did want to delay the transfer. And he certainly hadn't expected that kind of solution, or quite frankly, any, from him. But the Baron spoke with such determination and finality that List found himself nodding to show his support. To have the twins drugged and unconscious worked in their favor, and of course whatever issues they would've had with the twins would now jump to Pierce and the Americans.
"I think that's the most intelligent thing you've said to me in a while," List admitted.
von Strucker raised a brow, his shoulders relaxing against his chair. He rolled his eyes. "You will administer them the proper medication,"
"Yes, of course. A small dose of anesthesia is all they need," List said matter-of-factly.
"Good," von Strucker replied, even though he wasn't really listening to List. Like the doctor, he was suddenly eyeing random things, deep in thought. "The sooner we get rid of them, the better," he muttered.
List fidgeted in his seat. "Yes," he concurred.
When his boss said no more, List shuffled to stand up, but then stopped midway.
"Oh, and… I haven't told Pierce about Miss Maximoff," He paused. "I want to keep it that way," von Strucker instructed.
"Are you sure?"
Hesitation flashed over von Strucker's face for a second, but he quickly hid it with assertion. "Yes. Should Miss Maximoff prove to be difficult to manage, then it shouldn't be traced to the facility."
List nodded again, once again caught by surprise that he was agreeing with the Baron. "As you wish."
Wanda was jolted awake by the lights flickering on in her room, followed by the metal door scrapping the floor as it was opened. A uniformed Rumlow walked in and stopped at the edge of her bed, not bothering to wait to see if she could process his words in her sleepy state. Wanda fumbled with her sheets, bringing them to her chin. She didn't want him, or any of the guards standing outside her door to get a glimpse of her nightgown.
"Miss Maximoff, you're aware that you're going to be transported to a different location?"
Wanda's eyes flickered to the lingering armed guards, then at Rumlow. She silently nodded.
A gun-toting guard stepped in, dropped a pair of clothes and casual tennis shoes next to her covered feet, and retreated. Rumlow pointed at the clothes as he said, "Change into that; you won't need anything else."
She was then left alone. Wanda sat there for a couple seconds, trying to rub off any leftovers of her sleep. She wondered about her brother, about James. Pietro would be with her the whole way, but what about James? He didn't know if he would be going along to wherever they were going, and it seemed that he doubted it. He had also failed to convince Wanda that escaping was too risky. It wasn't – not when her brother and James' lives were in the balance. There was no way that she would do what Hydra wanted of her. They had given her powers, but they didn't control her life. They wanted her to commit heinous crimes that would work in Hydra's favor, but what about the rest of the world? They were against the Avengers, and even though Wanda would make it no secret that she too harbored a vendetta against them, she couldn't overlook their contribution to protecting the planet. Hydra was the opposite of the Avengers, no matter how much they attempted to twist her head into thinking they were the do-gooders. She and Pietro needed out, before they got in too deep like James. But unlike James, who didn't have a chance to decide, they did. And Wanda wanted to exercise that right before it was too late.
She hadn't mentioned it to James, but she decided that their only window of opportunity was during the transfer. By car, train, airplane, it didn't matter what. She and Pietro had to escape by any means, and if James wasn't coming with them, then she'd come back for him once they were free. Wanda's patience had finally run out. Whereas she was once thankful for Hydra for rescuing her brother and she from poverty, Wanda now only felt intense hatred. They were her savior and her doom.
Wasting no more time, she quickly tossed aside her nightgown and into the grey sweatshirt and black workout leggings. She smoothened out her brown mane behind her ears, tied on her shoes, inhaled once to calm her nerves, and twisted the large door handle. She was met with Rumlow's broad back, who had been standing guard. He turned around, looked at her once, and then stepped to the side. In front of her was Pietro, wearing the same exact outfit. Two taller armed guards blocked her view to see him entirely. Her face instantly became less tensed, her stomach unknotting a bit.
But before she could take another step, Rumlow was suddenly right back across from her. His hand shot up to roughly push her hair back and he grabbed onto the side of her slim neck with a confused expression. Wanda gasped, a cold skinny hand flying to clutch his wrist on instinct. Her powers were already on alert; she had to pull back the hex that was building on her fingertips.
"What is this mark on your neck?" Rumlow questioned, his grip constricting ever so slightly.
"Uh what –!" Wanda yelped. She had no idea as to what he was referring to, but still she tried to remain neutral. She wanted to look at Pietro, but she maintained eye contact with Rumlow. If he became more violent, then Wanda would have no choice but defend herself and she needed to know when to attack.
Rumlow squinted and brought her closer to his face, his breathing hitting Wanda's cheek as she flinched. She felt the pad of his thumb brusquely rubbing on that part of her skin back and forth.
"Is – is that a bite mark?" he asked incredulously.
Wanda skirmished under his hold, but Rumlow wouldn't budge. For a second, she was befuddled. She had no clue as to what Rumlow was referring to. Why would she have a bite mark on her neck?
Then she remembered. Last night, in her room. After they had declared their love for each other, Wanda had begged James to stay a couple minutes longer. He obeyed, and the entire time their bodies were glued together. James' mouth, hands, and arms had been all over her, as if to remind himself of her touch and the feeling of her skin. He had bit into the curve of her neck, but it hadn't been painful, and Wanda surely didn't think it would've left any traces.
Wanda's focus shifted momentarily to Pietro, and a fierce shiver overtook her body. Her hand suddenly felt numb as it slipped from Rumlow's wrist. Pietro gave her an alarmed and almost regretful rivet. Wanda's throat went dry, even though Rumlow had removed his hand from her neck.
Rumlow's eyes darkened and his voice became low and menacing. "How did you get that?"
Wanda gulped. She couldn't tear her stare from her brother. Fear began to seep into her brain. She was paralyzed; she didn't know how to respond. She certainly couldn't tell him the truth behind the bite mark. What could she say?!
"Umm –" Wanda sputtered, her lower lip quivering in agony.
Rumlow followed her eyes to Pietro, and once they were locked on the other Maximoff, his face twisted into anger and disgust.
Sick fuck, Rumlow though.
It was loud enough for Wanda to hear it, and immediately her head snapped at the agent. Her eyes popped open in shock; did Rumlow think she had gotten it from Pietro, her twin brother? It seemed that way because Pietro looked defiant in his stance, further infuriating Rumlow. She was about to defend her brother when Rumlow's yells rung over her ears. In one swift move, he had positioned himself behind Wanda, pinning her arms onto her back and securing them with hinged handcuffs.
He flicked his chin towards Pietro. "Lock him back in his room! And someone get Doctor List!"
Wanda had a moment to gasp before in a blink of an eye, she was being dragged away from her room, from Pietro. She watched an agent sneak up behind Pietro – she screamed, "No!", but it came out more like a low cry, not loud enough for him to hear it. The agent hit him on the shoulder with a long taser-like stick, rendering him unconscious and convulsing as huddles of agents pushed him back into his room.
Rumlow ran in front of her, yelling at people to get out of the way. She was carried by two armed men by her underarms, her shoes sweeping against the floor under her.
"Let me go! Please!" she cried.
Wanda's cheeks were streaked with tears at the sight of her brother being electrocuted. She was being rushed to Doctor List's examination room, and all she could clearly think about was James.
Wherever he was, she prayed to God he wasn't there at the facility. She prayed that he was gone, away from the pain that was going to befall her. Rumlow wasn't stupid, and perhaps neither was Doctor List. Rumlow knew there was only one way for her to get that type of bite mark, and although he had been wrong in targeting Pietro as the source of the mark, he still knew the reason behind it.
Wanda had been interacting with only two men. They'd immediately rule out Pietro, leaving them with just James. The Winter Soldier. Their secret would be outed. After nearly getting away with it.
She had assumed in a time like this, her abilities would emerge as powerful as ever. But she was so frozen in consternation, devastated by seeing her brother taken down, that she was simply unable to build up anything. She didn't have any time to conjure up a hex or move objects around the agents – she was sobbing recklessly and trashing her body to shake off the agents. It didn't do any good, and then she was thrown on the hospital bed so hard that it momentarily shook her senses. When she regained them, long strands of her hair were strewn across her face. Her shackled arms were kept pinned behind her, and the weight of her body sent tremors of pain. It was worsened by agents shoving her shoulders back, pressing her into the bed.
Her vision became so clouded that at first, she couldn't distinguish Doctor List from the other agents in the room. Then she heard his raspy old voice, full-on accented like hers.
"Take off her pants," he demanded.
Wanda drew in a sharp breath as she instantly brought her legs together. "No, no, don't touch me!"
As if everyone in the room had suddenly gone deaf, her legs were promptly pried open and her leggings were ripped off, cruelly exposing her legs and underwear to a room jammed of men. Wanda cried out; she tried to shake off her left ankle, causing the agent to lose his grip on it. She kneaded him in the face, causing the agent to grab his chin in agony and fall on his ass. Another agent swooped in behind him and snake his hand on her ankle with indescribable pressure. At the same time, Wanda saw the man holding onto her right wrist raise his gloved hand and a slap rung throughout the room.
Wanda's neck took a sharp left upon impact. Her cheek was left aching, but it wasn't enough to mercilessly knock her out. Through wet eyelashes, she looked to see her bare legs. She had never felt so much shame. She wanted to cross her legs in a lame way of hiding her privates, but she didn't have the chance as her ankles were forcibly grabbed and spread apart. Tears streamed out of the corners of her eyes, terror swelling up in every part of her half-naked body.
"Please, please no – Stop!" she sobbed, falling on deaf ears.
Her eyes rolled over. Bile threatened to rise from her throat, the pull to remain conscious threading ever so closer to giving out. She felt like a cow ready to be slaughtered, a dead frog getting dissected on a school lab. She felt utterly revealed, so degraded, useless, defeated, dead. Everything good she had known couldn't hold a light to the current debauchery. To them, she was nothing. Death would be a mercy compared to this inhumane anatomization, this open dismemberment of a human being, and they certainly wouldn't give that to her. No, she was their experiment – how could've she forgotten that?
Doctor List sat in between her legs. As he smacked on his gloves, two of his assistants brought a sheet over Wanda's abdomen and held it there so not to allow the agents a view of what List was going to examine.
"No, no, no, no," Wanda bawled.
The doctor grabbed a pair of scissors and slowly cut free her underwear. Wanda heaved at the cold touch of the blade as it cut upwards. The last barrier of her virtue, literally ripped off. No longer was James the only man to ever see her, no longer the only man to touch her there. Once the underwear was removed, she was surrounded by the chilly air and Wanda closed her eyes shut. She was going to die, she could just feel it. Sometimes experiments failed, and she was turning to be one of the failures. She was going to die – if not by Hydra, then by her own immobilized horror. There was only so much shock and panic a person could take before their heart would give out from the sheer pressure of it. Wanda's chest rose and fell so rapidly she felt it could rip open.
With a small flashlight in his mouth, Doctor List went under the sheet and his hands heaved inside Wanda's private opening. She instantly gasped loudly at his touch and another lone tear fell from her eyelash, a gasp caught in the middle of her throat. Yes, she was going to die.
Doctor List's fingers dug into her, and one particular movement provoked a moan not of pleasure by any logical means, but of torturous pain. She tried wiggling her legs, but the grip on her ankles grew until Wanda was certain that it would bruises. The same compression was mounted on her shoulders, which in response crushed her arms underneath her back. She whimpered as she kept feeling the doctor's hand inside of her. She suddenly focused on the surgical lighthead on top of her. It wasn't on, but she knew how bright it was when on. She wondered if she died, was a light as bright as the lighthead engulf her? Would the afterlife be filled with a bright light? Was there even an afterlife? Would she be "qualified" for it?
As rough and revolting as Doctor List had violated her, the ugly sensation disappeared. List removed his fingers from her. The assistants dropped the sheet on her, covering her abdomen and most of her legs. Doctor List was giving her a bewildered scowl that left Wanda afraid. She waited with baited breath.
"You're no longer a virgin," he stated.
Wanda's blood ran deathly cold. She swallowed hard to keep from throwing up.
List's dark brows furrowed, his long wrinkly nose twitching. "With whom did you have sexual relations with?"
"Her brother!" Rumlow barked, throwing a hand at her direction.
Wanda's eyes flicked at the man standing directly behind Doctor List. When did he show up? Had Rumlow been there the entire time?
"No!" Wanda howled – she wouldn't dare be accused of incest. Just the thought made her gag. "It wasn't my brother!"
Rumlow cowered back a bit, but his exasperation was still plastered on his face. List raised one wary brow at her, and Wanda realized her guilty admission as soon as the words left her lips.
"Then who, Miss Maximoff?" List pressured.
Wanda, seeing everyone's attention – List, Rumlow, the assistants – boring holes into her, she shrank back. She sniffled, but didn't bother to say anything. She wouldn't out James. They could torture her all they wanted, but she would never reveal it to them. They could do whatever they wanted – she didn't care, not anymore. She'd had had enough. Absolutely nothing they could say would let her put the blame on James. She and James had risked so much – it couldn't, wouldn't end like this. They weren't worthy of it, anyways. She'd die first before they could inflict hurt on James.
Wanda remained tight-lipped, even as her tears betrayed her by spilling over her reddened cheeks. She would not give in.
Empty minutes ticked by, and Doctor List began growing impatient.
"Miss Maximoff, it won't do you – or your brother, for that matter – any good to stay quiet. You must tell us with whom you carried a sexual relationship."
Wanda just shook her head. Once, she'd thought she could only die for her twin brother. He had been the only family left in the earth. She could only live for him, and thus die for him if it was necessary. Now she could add a name to that prestigious list. She'd die for James Buchanan Barnes, the love of her life. Her mother had told her that she thought dying for someone you loved, who loved you back, was the most beautiful and tragic death of all. Now that Wanda found herself in that situation, she agreed with her. It was beautiful, because only love could make such a permanent ending so romantic, and tragic, because their love couldn't continue.
Doctor List exhaled through his nose, a look of disappointment forming. He slowly stripped his gloves from his hand and was about to say something when a light bulb went off in Rumlow's head. He lightly put a palm on List's shoulder, stopping him from getting up, and whispered, "What about the Asset?" The same realization seemed to lighten up List, who resumed questioning Wanda.
"Was it the Winter Soldier? Was it the Winter Soldier, Miss Maximoff?" List said in a confounded tone.
Wanda inhaled softly at the sound of James' Hydra name. The tears on her cheeks and lips suddenly dried up. Her jaw instinctively tightened, but she tried to hide it by shaking her head twice. Rumlow didn't fall for it one bit.
"It was him," he acknowledged. "That son of a bitch…"
Wanda's defenses rose. "No, no! It wasn't him either!"
Rumlow ignored her pleas and instead directed two fingers at the men pushing back on Wanda's shoulders, "You two, come with me."
List, always in his own little world, bobbed his head back and forth. "Not again," he murmured.
Wanda, wild eyes flashing from Rumlow and his men retreating from the room to List and his assistants rushing to cover her decency, contemplated her next move. They were either going to von Strucker, or going after James. Which meant that he could still be in the facility. No, she couldn't let that happen. He didn't deserve any more pain. She couldn't bear to live if she was the cause of that pain. They couldn't get to him. She had to stop him – but how?! Her arms were tied behind her back and she didn't know where her brother was. What if they were torturing him?
Her ankles were set free, and Wanda turned to see the two agents who had had gripped her ankles following Rumlow. This allowed for the assistants to stumble on a new pair of pants on her. With her back screaming in agony, she pushed herself up and without another second to pass, she knew what she had to do. The only possibility of stopping Rumlow from wherever he was heading to.
As soon as the pants were slipped on, Wanda mustered every strength she had within her and aimed at the heavy handcuffs on her wrists. Red snakes emerged from her fingertips and the handcuffs slipped with a soft thud on the bedsheets. Her arms were free, and she jumped from the hospital bed. She raised her hands and sent a hex towards List and the assistants, sending them flying backwards to the cement walls.
Turning on her heel, Wanda delivered hex after hex at every single Hydra agent in her sight. Bodies were flung into the air, allowing for Wanda to scan the chaotic environment for the men running after Rumlow. She was about to take off in a chase, but then someone caught her from behind. Wanda felt electricity in her veins, her body warming at a rapid pace. She couldn't keep her eyes open and she opened her mouth, although she couldn't form a sound. Her heart was beating so fast that she thought it was going to explode. And then she collapsed, unable to sustain the excruciating pain.
Brock Rumlow and his band of armed Hydra operatives raced to one of the facility's underground chambers. As they scoured the barren hallways, Rumlow used his earpiece to shout out demands that Baron von Strucker be alerted of the compromised Wanda Maximoff. His large combat boots stomped against the cold, dirty floor, the sound of this combined with the men behind him sending off vibrations that the Winter Soldier and his handler heard hundreds of feet away in a secluded, dimly-lit room. The handler was amid helping the Winter Soldier put on his tactical vest when Rumlow burst through the door.
The look on his face could only be described as annoyingly perplexed laced with hot fury. The handler, a miniature of a man when standing to the Winter Soldier, immediately stepped back with an aghast expression. The Winter Soldier, in contrast, simply raised an eyebrow. This only seemed to feed into Rumlow's rage, who then proceeded to cross the entire room in five strides and land a bare-knuckled sucker punch on the Winter Soldier's stubble-covered cheek.
"You fuckin' idiot!" Rumlow hollered.
His army of agents hastily swarmed around them, submachine guns raised and pointing directly at the Winter Soldier, whose face remained sideways after receiving the punch. He was stilled in place, his shaggy hair offering a cover to the wrath boiling in the pit of his gut. Rumlow dropped his arm and belted a noise of aggravation, disregarding the searing pain throbbing on his knuckles.
"You fuckin' idiot," Rumlow repeated. "I cannot believe that you'd be stupid enough to get involved with a girl – let alone, one of the experiments! Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?"
The Winter Soldier's burgeoning violent outbreak on Rumlow was abruptly put off by a tremor running through his spine. The hairs on the back of neck flicked up. The atmosphere surrounding him became torched in a heatwave. He could no longer feel the punch; it was a poke compared to the whiplash he was feeling throughout his body.
Only one name rung in his head, was on the tip of his tongue.
Wanda.
"Hey – hey, look at me when I'm talking to you!" Rumlow berated. And then he forcibly seized the Winter Soldier's chin to make him face him.
In the next instant, the assassin's bionic arm flexed over Rumlow's hand and shoved it away. Rumlow stumbled backwards, defensively raising both arms in the air as all the agents positioned their guns with fingers centimeters from the trigger. The Winter Soldier stared at Rumlow, fists clenched at his sides and teeth gritting so hard it widened his jawline.
"Woah, calm down! The only one at fault is you, you know? You should've never gotten involved with her. Would've saved you and her a whole lotta trouble," Rumlow sneered.
"I haven't done anything," the Winter Soldier slowly seethed, emphasizing on every word.
Rumlow merely scoffed. "Oh, don't even. She tried to do the same, act like it wasn't you when it was clear as day. And now, because of your screwing around, we have to restart the whole program again."
The Winter Soldier frowned just slightly, though he did not drop his glare.
"What does that mean?"
Rumlow gave him a snide smile. "It means we gotta turns your brains into mush and restart the whole fuckin' process again."
Something in the Winter Soldier snapped. The image of Wanda suffering was his worst nightmare, and he would be damned to ever let that happen. She wouldn't be put in misery, not while he was alive and loving her. A wave of emotion flooded his mind and everyone who wasn't Wanda was his enemy. He took a quick gander at Rumlow and the men in the room. There were many, perhaps too many for him. But he could take them. With Wanda at risk, he could take anything. She needed him now more than ever, and for the first time since he could remember, he finally wasn't afraid of Hydra. All he truly cared about was Wanda and her safety. Knowing that he could provide that, uncovered such strength, determination and willpower from within him.
His metal arm whirred, and in one swift swing, he retightened it and hurled himself onto Rumlow. They fell onto the ground with a deafening slam; he didn't even flinch at the sound of Rumlow's head pounding down. Gripping his neck with his human hand, he heaved a punch with his metal knuckles. Rumlow's head flipped to the side and blood immediately flew from his mouth. The Winter Soldier then chucked himself up and threw another blow at the first agent he saw, but then his vision became blurry. It was followed by an abundant prickling of pain and he fell on his back, near Rumlow who was half-dizzy and being carried away. The Winter Soldier coughed once, his eyes threatening to close as the agents huddled around him and pressed their guns' tips into his personal space amongst the smoke. His muscles were tensed and his breathing was short. He wanted to stand up, but he couldn't move an inch, and eventually it got impossible to stay conscious.
On just one hand, Wanda could count the people whom she loved with all her soul, people who represented the good in her life, people whom she'd do anything to protect from danger, people who she would give her own life to let them live.
For the first eighteen years of her existence, it had been only her parents and her twin brother Pietro. Those three were undisputed – they were her family, her flesh and blood. And quite frankly, after she and Pietro had volunteered for Hydra, she suspected it would remain with those three till the end.
Thus, Wanda considered James a miracle. Her own personal miracle. The fourth person who had sneaked up out of nowhere to claim the spot, and her heart.
James came at a point in her life when she had practically ruled out love. It wasn't allowed, so Wanda had no intentions of going against them. The only person left in the world she loved was Pietro – that was risky enough. The focus was avenging their parents' deaths, nothing else. That's why they willingly volunteered, and once they survived and gained otherworldly powers, the only other important thing to them was one another. The less strings they had attached to emotions to the outside world, the better they would be off. The irony of it all is that her possible end would come from within the Hydra facilities.
Through closed lids, Wanda could feel the searing fluorescent lights casting on her. She stirred, muscles slowly losing its rough tense. She tried expanding her body, but she couldn't. There was something in the way; her wrists, ankles and neck were locked in place by metal cuffs. Wanda flinched as she opened her eyes and the lights grew, momentarily blinding her.
She licked her chapped lips, finding her throat dry like sandpaper. Her cheek still burned; as a matter of fact, her entire body burned. Her latest memories flooded back into her mind like a tsunami, drowning her in sorrows. Wanda frantically looked at her surroundings; she was strapped tightly to a bed amongst the faded cement walls.
Pietro laid in the same position on her left in a separate bed. His eyes were closed, as if he was sleeping but Wanda knew better. They had put him down in the same manner as her. On his neck was a black shock collar, a single small blue light going on and off in the center. Wanda gulped, and the sensation of her throat touching a cold metal barrier made her realize she had the same thing on.
Wanda immediately got emotional seeing the state of her twin brother.
"Oh, Pietro… I'm so sorry," she whispered in their native language.
She looked away, not able to take it in, and closed her eyes to stop the tears from falling. She couldn't imagine what would be done to them – mainly, to her. She didn't how to spare Pietro though, who was completely innocent. He had warned her to stay away from James, and she hadn't listened. She needed to save him, if it were the last thing she'd do. At least it would bring her some comfort that she could manage to protect her brother, when she couldn't for James. Pietro was the strongest of the two, anyways – unlike her, he was more fitted for the world that waited for him.
There was sudden shuffling of footsteps. Wanda's eyes bolted open and a tremor rocked her body. She twisted her head as much as she could to the source of the sound, and saw the Baron giving her the most intense, contempt-filled glare, and the fact that he was sporting a monocle over his left eye only made him appear more sinister.
von Strucker's lip curled as he said, "Ah, the witch has awoken."
The door slammed shut behind him. Wanda bit down on the tip of her tongue and her insides rolled at the hearing that slanderous nickname. No matter how sickly evil he seemed at that moment, she wasn't going to look away. She wouldn't give him that benefit.
Without breaking eye contact, he slowly started walking to her. It reminded her of animal stalking its prey. He was the hungry cheetah, she the helpless deer.
Hands tied behind his lower back, he started, "When I was told that you and our Asset had been caught in compromising position, I thought to myself, 'No, they wouldn't have done something so reckless, so stupid and idiotic.'" He dramatically paused and shot her daggers. "It angers – no, infuriates me to see that I was wrong."
Wanda remained silent with tight lips. She resisted blinking – she needed to follow von Strucker's every move.
He came to a stop in between she and Pietro. He blocked off Pietro's upper body, which brought on immense discomfort for Wanda. Still, she had her eyes locked at von Strucker, and even dared to try and stick her chin out. von Strucker scoffed mixed with laughter, and he untangled his hand to bring them down on each side of Wanda's head. She felt claustrophobic and for the first time since he entered the room, she had to look away to see where he was putting his hands. Sweat started forming on her forehead.
von Strucker lowered his head and whispered into her ear, "Because of you, I could've lost my job. Because of you, you nearly jeopardized the Asset. Because of you, the program has been set back for at least a year. Because of you, you've nearly endangered Hydra. Because of you, everything's been fucked straight to hell," he spat out viciously.
Wanda recoiled far as she could manage, her skin stinging from the sharp breath that hit her in the ear. The Baron's anger fervor was so barefaced, so mistakable, that she found it extremely hard to maintain eye contact. She had never seen such cold dark blue eyes directed at her. She didn't have to read his mind to know that he was trying with all his might to keep sane.
"All my hard work, gone. We have to start from the beginning all over again, and do you know how long that's going to take, huh?" He didn't bother to let her answer. "We were gonna only wipe some things from you, just to see you'd react and progress. Now we're gonna have to wipe everything. And not just you, but your brother too."
von Strucker backed away, even though it appeared he wanted to say more. He wiped his lower lip with the back of his hand and took quick strides to the other side of her bed.
Wanda let out a soft gasp once he was out of her personal space, and briefly closed her eyes again to stop tears from falling. She reminded herself to remain calm, and to never let Pietro out of her sight. He was her only source of normality, something she needed to cling onto in her possible last moments.
Without saying another word, von Strucker pressed a bottom from beneath the bed and suddenly the bed began rising upwards, stopped, and then moved forward so that Wanda was now standing up vertical cuffed to the bed. In front of her was a large rectangular window that nearly took up the wall. It allowed her to see into the next room – a man with his head hungover his shoulders. Wanda's heart dropped to her feet when she realized exactly who he was.
James, wearing a grey tank top which exposed the fine lines between his skin and where his bionic arm's tissue started near his collarbone, sat motionless in the dark room. His wrists and forearms were constricted by three-inch wide metal bound cuffs. Above his head was the infamous Hydra memory suppressing machine. It was on, as rays of energy flickered back and forth from one large pad to the other. His dark hair fell over him, making it impossible for Wanda to check if he was conscious or not.
It took all her strength not to bawl right there. It broke her into a million pieces to see the love of her life so wasted, defeated and ruined. She wanted to rub her palms on his dark tresses, place them behind his ears so she could see his beautiful face, and kiss him. She wanted to tell him the honest truth, that it wasn't going to be okay, but that she simply loved him. That no matter what Hydra was going to do to them, they'd somehow find each other, perhaps in another time, another life. He'd always been in her heart, and she in his, because that's where they belonged. In each other's hearts.
Wanda's attention then trailed from James' derelict figure to the machine hanging inches from his head. It appeared like an omen, ready to strike at his victim's most vulnerable state. It was the machine that Hydra heavily leaned on to continue on living. Used to turn people into animals, controlling them in every psychological facet of the human brain. It worked to remove James' memories and make loyal strictly to Hydra. And if she understood von Strucker correctly, they would exercise that machine's hands onto Wanda and her brother.
von Strucker paced to the window, arms neatly folded behind his uniformed back. He stared at James before turning to Wanda with a frightening smile. "It shouldn't take long to get back the Asset. It'll be a bit harder for you and your brother, but it shouldn't pose that much a problem."
Wanda's eyes narrowed at the Baron. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice raspy.
His smirk deepened. "He's going to forget you ever existed. You are going to forget he ever existed."
James' neck raised by just a centimeter, but it was enough movement to distract Wanda from burning holes into von Strucker. His broad shoulders shrugged back, his fists unclenched, and his face slowly looked up and a pair of light blue eyes found itself Wanda. She breathed a sigh of relief before she could stop herself, but it was too late, and it caught von Strucker's attention.
"He can hear us, but we can't hear him," he added, clearly miffed by the looks of remedy they gave each other.
Wanda hadn't even heard the Baron – she was focused entirely on James. Oh, how she yearned to hold him. To return to their nightly visits when he held her in silence, her ear laid over his chest, right next to his beating heart. It beat only for her, he whispered against her hair. She said the same thing about her own little heart – it called for James, for his love and willpower to stay alive amidst the horrors surrounding him at every turn. She had never met someone so courageous as him, someone so passionate and full of life despite the deaths that he was forced to commit. She was a whole new person because of him, better and more knowledgeable, and she desperately wanted him to know that. Their love hadn't been in vain; in fact, it worked to their advantage, because a powerful emotion such as endless love can never be tainted and twisted.
The glint in his blue eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching in a sad smile, wrecked Wanda. It was almost as if he was telling her she was going to be okay, that he would be the one punished. She shook her head, a heavy lump in the base of her throat.
"Consider this alteration of your mind a mercy because that's what I am giving you – a mercy," von Strucker seethed. "Hydra needs the Asset and the twins, so you should actually be thankful for that."
James' jaw locked and his teeth gritted, fists once again balled until they turned a pale white. He shot von Strucker an intense glare, and when he slightly moved against the metal cuffs as if to signal he was about to fly from the chair, von Strucker wasted no time. He revealed a handgun from inside his uniform, cocked it and pointed it at Wanda. James instantly paused. His fists were no longer white and his face was softening.
"You disobey again, and I'll put a bullet in her," the Baron threatened.
Wanda gulped at not the threat, but the cold tip of the handgun teasing at her temple. Her eyes were saucers, blood freezing up in her veins. She wasn't scared – no, she was pissed off. At that moment, she felt a power surge expanding crazily from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. Out of nowhere, her vision turned into the clearest she could ever see as she saw her own reflection on the window pane. Her irises were glowing red. The psionic hexes were rushing from her core to her fingertips, anxious to be released.
And then the shock collar around her neck activated. One single shock rocked her entire being. Wanda let out a choke – for a brief second, her windpipe had shut completely down. She struggled to breathe, even as her mouth was wide open from the jolt. She desperately wanted to clutch her throat, but not only were her limbs still locked, but she couldn't feel her muscles. She was enveloped by a heat wave, and if it weren't for James, she might've given in to unconsciousness.
"Oh, I forgot to mention – you will get shocked if you try to use your powers," von Strucker stated matter of factly with no enthusiasm although he was secretly feeling pleasure at the pain he was inflicting on them.
The ripples of energy quickly dissolved, but it left Wanda in a daze. Her head lolled a bit to the side, away from the murderous barrel of the handgun. She exhaled delicately, elated that she could breathe in again. Wanda propped herself up to look at James and regain her strength, but the grief and lamentation that she read from his expression was like von Strucker had shot her.
If there's one thing she would absolutely never allow him to feel, it would be regret. He couldn't regret letting her kiss him, regret going to her room late at night, regret falling in love with her and risking their goddamn lives. Their love was bigger than a pitiful feeling like regret. Their memories were about to be ripped away forever and Wanda wouldn't stand for James associating her and their love with regret.
Without hesitation, Wanda blurted out, "I love you."
James delivered her a half-smile that crushed Wanda, and he mouthed back, "I love you."
von Strucker snickered and rolled his eyes.
"Too bad you won't remember feeling that way," he commented as he lowered the handgun and slipped it into the inside pocket of his uniform.
The machine burst alive, its outspread tentacles lowering to James' head. The chair pulled him back as the two pads of the machine rested on each side of him, and there was a loud whirring noise as power started up.
James never broke eye contact from Wanda. Hair laid from his face as the chair brought him back, she saw him become very stilled, the muscles in his arms tightening. She had never seen him in fear, but words couldn't describe the agony that awaited him. He feared the force of the machine, and what it was aiming to do. But most of all, he feared that it would work like it had several times over the years. That he wouldn't be able to remember her.
Wanda's emotions cracked.
"No, no, please don't do it!" she cried to von Strucker, who wasn't even looking at her. He was gawking at James, a smirk plastered on his aging face.
"I'm begging you! Please don't –"
She was interrupted by the worst bone-chilling screams she ever heard. They were excruciating screams, covered in agony and anguish. He was being tortured in one of the most inhumane ways known to mankind, and with all the powers Wanda held, she couldn't do a damn thing about it. All she could do was stand there, secured like him, and sob as the misery continued and his yells continued to ring through the intercom. It was so blaring that the window vibrated.
Wanda didn't know how many times she needed to feel useless. She believed she had rewritten the definition of that word when she was trapped for two days under the rubble of her home with an unexploding shell planted feet from her. Witnessing the love of her life getting his memories suppressed that she even existed put everything in perspective. Despite of all the good and moral she felt she had, none of it mattered in the end. Despite her superpowers, she was useless to her loved ones. She was fucking useless.
The brainwashing went on for several minutes. And then, just as the machine had unexpectedly powered on, it turned off and it rose from his head. James was left wheezing, his breathing erratic and his body shaking. He stared ahead at nothing, his welcoming light blue eyes now a dark and shady color. The pink in his cheeks lessened, and he took a few more mouthful of breaths before he seemed to calm down.
A white coat-wearing figure walked into his room. Wanda immediately recognized Doctor List. His mouth moved – he was speaking to James. Once he was done talking, James suddenly looked at her.
Wanda froze against the bed. His eyes no longer held any of his warmth; instead it was replaced by emptiness.
Please remember me, she begged.
James' head shook. He returned his attention to Doctor List. Wanda heaved, streams of tears running wild. Lips quivering as she openly wept in front of von Strucker, Wanda bowed her head down.
Another word was rewritten. Heartbreak. The amount of heartbreak Wanda found herself going through, time and time again, she wondered if she was cursed. Whether she was destined to live a live with so much sorrow. She had cried for years about her parents' death, and now essentially, she had lost James. The only man she had ever loved. The only man who had loved her for her.
Enraptured by her own darkness, Wanda failed to notice her bed coming back down. The fluorescent lights beamed on her almost cruelly. It mocked at her, as if she had a chance to find peace and light. There would never be any peace for – she had signed that way once she had volunteered. She was at their mercy, their beck and call, now and for the rest of her days. Even though she wouldn't be able remember James, she just knew that an inner part of her mind would. Somehow, it would remain kept hidden away. And it would emerge when she needed it most, whenever what would be. Perhaps in days of yore, when she was searching for a love she might've had. A love story like theirs could've be erased forever, she wholeheartedly believed.
"This will teach you to never disobey us again," von Strucker bristled into her ear.
Wanda sniffed and exhaled one last dainty breath, turning to her still unconscious twin brother. Funnily, she felt comfort that he had been asleep. A sensitive soul like his required peace. He was free in his own head, truly and deservedly uncatchable.
Assistants dressed in lab coats entered the room and carried out Wanda into the hallway. She had stopped crying and kept her eyes compressed. She was brought into the same room as James, but he was no longer there. The assistants unlatched the cuffs and raised her from the underarms to the chair. It was warm, and Wanda's chapped lips lurched into a tiny smile.
When the assistants left and von Strucker appeared, Wanda's smile dropped. She was now finally devoid of any emotion – her face was pale and utterly blank. She didn't even fear for the pain that was about to come. She had suffered enough, she didn't need the work of a machine to remind her.
Seeing von Strucker smirking sinisterly, Wanda closed her eyes. Her focal point was the origin of the warmth of the chair. Not the Winter Soldier. His name was James Buchanan Barnes. Her one true love.
As she had suspected, the forsaken electricity damaging her mind and soul was nothing compared to the lifetime of misery ahead of her.
A/N: I couldn't have finished without listening to the Love Theme of Romeo and Juliet ('68 version) and the finale theme for Love Story. Both films were very inspiring.
When I first thought of this story, I didn't want Wanda and Bucky to be found in a compromising position, which is usually the norm when it concerns forbidden love. In my mind, I always felt that the smallest of things, like a hickey, could get them caught. They don't have any belongings, like a necklace or a ring, so to me, a physical mark is what would bring them down.
I'm already working on a sequel, which is titled Partition. This is during Civil War, but more Wanda and Bucky-centered as they start remembering their time with HYDRA. But the first chapter won't be posted until near the end of March.
And finally, a million thanks to everyone who read the story and left comments, followed and favorited. This was my first fanfic in some years now, and my first in this world, so I can't thank you enough for your support.
