The man laid down on the bed, handcuffed as he slept. She sprawled out on a chair, her legs draped over the side of it. The bags under her eyes were pronounced, her complexion paler than usual. She ran her hand through her freshly dyed hair, it was a dark auburn now and straight compared to the frizzy waves they had been before. Her hazel eyes turned to the file in front of her, she looked through it. A baby girl smiled back in some of the photos, everything was written in Russian but she understood enough of it.
August 8th, 1964.
Five pounds, six ounces.
Sixteen inches long.
She was such a tiny little thing. The images were coming back to her, the sounds. Her first cries and the gloved blue hands taking her away. There was much there though, she remembered a man, the one from the jungle in the doorway being taken away. He was screaming her name, for the baby. She didn't know why though. The sound of electricity rang as he disappeared from view, drowning out her name. She could see Zola in the corner of the room, old and grey in his wheelchair.
She couldn't remember any of her capture only the man. The Winter Soldier.
All of the information about Genevieve's pregnancy was there but there was nothing about the father in the file, that page was missing. She had done her best to live vicariously through the information, tried to remember the feeling of little feet kicking in her belly. She wouldn't remember her conception though.
The file had been in an abandoned HYDRA faculty in Laos, it carried leads no where she was. She had scoured the Earth looking for whatever she could but everything slipped through. Her feet had carried her through the strangeness of Tibet's oldest sanctuaries to the rolling hills and bustling life of San Francisco. They had learned to cover their tracks after World War II, better than they had ever before.
Placing her head against the back she slowly fell asleep, a hand on her belly.
There was nothing in the dreamscape now. No snow, not even the usual gray lab room. Millie stood in front of her.
It had been two years since Loki had unknowingly connected them. The girl had spent years trying to reach her with no prevail. When Genevieve had been in the faculty the girl's powers had been contained but the past fifty years she hadn't been able too. The soldier had helped, they took him away from her too. It was a mystery as to why. The scientists had keep the girl in cryostasis because of it, seldom letting her leave it. It might've explained why they couldn't keep in touch. She knew it was a dreamless sleep. The scientists hoped that she would be able to control them with time initially.
Today had been one of those hope filled days.
Her hair was a little longer now closer to a bob but still not quite long enough, it showed how much red was in her chestnut locks. It was now starting to form little ringlets around her face. The red contrasted with the vibrant blue of her eyes despite there being so little of it. She wore a plain sunny yellow sweater under a blue jacket, jeans, and a pair of beat up sneakers. Their surroundings changed to a busy hall, people moved like a blur while they stood motionless until the girl reached up, her small fingers touched Genevieve's red hair. Men with dog tags around their necks darted past as did doctors and scientists.
"Pretty Mama," she muttered as Genevieve placed her hand on the girl's head. She'd barely aged. She bent down onto the girl's level.
"Look at my little Millie." She said, putting her hands on the girl's rosy cheeks. Millie had straight nose and a small mouth with a natural pout, a slight cleft in her chin as well from her father. Genevieve never would have believed that she was her daughter without that file. She looked nothing like her besides her faint freckles and the slight red tone in her hair. Nothing else about the girl resembled her.
Well, maybe the powers the girl had clued into her heritage but in the world they lived in these things were becoming normal.
She pulled the girl into a hug. "They woke me up today, Mama. We're going somewhere new."
She feigned a smile. "Well change can be good sometimes."
"I saw the soldier today." The girl began walking, taking Genevieve's hand. She lead her into a room. The man stood there in his mask and goggles wearing thin kevlar body armor and boots, shoulder length brown hair framing his face. Doctors and scientists flanked him, checking his vitals and asking him questions. Millie let out a small sniffle."Do you remember him?"
"A little." The girl looked down, wiping her face with her sleeve. "Did something happen, Millie?"
"He doesn't remember me." A machine stood in the corner of the room with a chair in the center of it, two metal pieces hung above it like raven's wings. A plastic mouth guard laid on a tray next to it, dripping with saliva. The woman placed her hand over her heart and looked at her daughter.
"Have they ever put you in that thing?" She asked pointing to it.
"Once. It hurt; I broke it." Millie stated showing no emotion. Clearly she didn't want to think about it. Genevieve let out a relieved sigh. "They put him in there though."
"Did he say anything to you?"
"No," her voice wavered, a small tear fell. Her mother pulled her close as she cried, her small chest heaving.
"It'll be alright, Millie. Let it all out." She rubbed her back and kissed her forehead before pulling her to her chest, holding her close. She couldn't let her go again.
"He didn't know my name," she cried. Eventually she calmed down, holding the tags around her mother's neck.
"Where are you now, sweetheart?"
"I don't know. We're in a box." She rubbed her bright red nose on her sleeve. "It's windy outside though."
"Is there anything else you want to talk about?" She shook her head and pointed to the man again. Genevieve rose up and analyzed him. He was tall and built, sturdy but he wasn't particularly muscular. She had never seen him so close up before. He was threatening and the metal arm at his side only enforced that, a red star painted at the shoulder. She went to touch him only for him to fade, she wanted to see the eyes of the man who her daughter cared so much for. The man who took her back to HYDRA.
"Help him too." The girl said. "He needs help."
"I need to find you first, sweetheart, then we'll talk about it"
"But he helped you escape," she said, her voice getting louder. "We all could've left but the bad men found out!"
"Millie," she shushed her and put her hands on her shoulders, "I don't know what you're talking about." The girl swipped her hands away.
"Why can't you remember!?" She screamed at her mother. "He took us outside!" The lights began flickering, the dream fading. The man swirled into gray, the whole room did until all that lingered around them was darkness.
"Millie! Stop! You're going to wake up if you work yourself up." The girl was crying again, gasping for air as little hiccups escaped her. "I'm going to find you. I love you, Millie."
"I love you too, Mama," she turned and the man reappeared. "I love him too." She pulled her to her again.
"I know, sweetheart, I know. I'll try to fix as much as I can."