Hannah found herself nervously pacing the hotel floor. Bucky had gone to the store again, and he had forced her to stay behind. She wasn't happy about it, but what could she do? Her arm was still burning and each throb made it feel like someone was hammering a hot nail into her right bicep. If she thought about the pain, it would only get worse, but she couldn't think of anything other than Bucky. She was so confused by his story of the past, that it gave her a headache to think about, and she was back to thinking about her arm.
She sat down on her bed and tried to think about anything else, but she couldn't. How could she ignore the questions she had? He had never actually answered why Klaue had called him the winter soldier, and she wondered about that still. And, if he was from the '40s, why hadn't she heard about him when the German scientist found him? Surely he would've been all over the news as Captain America had been; Especially if he was worth millions as Klaue had said.
The door opened, dragging Hannah from her thoughts. Bucky walked in with a contrite look, and he refused to meet Hannah's gaze. "I wish we could go to a hospital," he sighed.
"We'd be too vulnerable," Hannah pointed out immediately. The idea of going to a hospital (even one all the way in South Africa) scared her.
"I know," Bucky said. "But doing this is going to be dangerous and painful."
"I don't know how anything you would do could make it feel much worse," she said.
Bucky looked at Hannah for the first time since he walked in the door. "I'm serious."
"I am too. Just get this stupid bullet out of me so the pain will stop," she pleaded. Bucky didn't say anything else. He only got out the tools he bought for his makeshift operation: surgical forceps, a lighter, gauze, and strong painkillers. Suddenly Hannah wasn't so sure about what she had said.
Bucky started by giving her the painkiller. "Because of the ones I gave you earlier, this is all you can have for a while; so let's hope it works."
"How long should we wait?" Hannah asked.
He looked at her arm and let out a long breath. "Hopefully not too long. If that bullet stays in there much longer, you'll have more problems than just blood loss."
"What kind of problems?" Hannah asked worriedly.
"Lead poisoning and infection," he answered. Hannah stared wide-eyed at him. "Like I said, let's hope it works."
Thirty minutes later, Bucky had everything ready. "Normally I'd wait another 30 minutes, but we need to get that out of your arm," he said while taking off his jacket. He gestured for Hannah to sit down in the chair he had ready. If she wasn't in so much pain, Hannah would have laughed at the little set up he had made. There were two chairs facing each other, and a table beside them. There was a tray that had his tools in a neat line, and the gauze was stacked beside it.
Hannah sat down in the chair he had gestured to, and Bucky pulled his chair closer to her arm and sat down. "Are you sure about this?" he asked.
"Stop stalling before I change my mind," Hannah replied as she removed the cloth from her arm. He grabbed the lighter, ignited it, and began burning the end of the forceps. As the metal changed from silver to a hot red, Hannah's breathing sped up. He waited for a second to let the metal cool. Hannah wanted to tell him to stop, but she was frozen. Even if she could find her voice, she knew she had to let him do it.
Hannah closed her eyes, willing it all to be over. That's when the pain started. Hot metal pressed against every nerve around the wound. It took every muscle in her body to not jerk away. Hannah bit her lip and held her breath, but it only got worse as the metal reached further into her skin. She cried out in pain as the feeling of skin tearing shot through her nerves, and she tried to pull away from Bucky. He held her arm still and continued without a word. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Her mind was focused on her arm and had forgotten about everything else. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like an hour already. She didn't know how much more she could take.
Just when she thought she would blackout from the pain, Bucky stopped. Hannah opened her eyes to see him slamming the tool down in frustration. Hannah was breathing heavily, and her arm was throbbing. Silently she was relieved, but they still had the problem of a bullet being in her arm.
"Why'd you stop?" Hannah scolded.
"I wasn't getting anywhere!" he snapped. "It's too deep."
"You almost had it!" she argued.
"No, I didn't. I was only making it worse." He grabbed gauze and a bandage and began wrapping her wound. "We need to get you to the hospital."
Hannah's heart rate spiked. "No!" she said as she grabbed his arm. "You know that's a bad idea."
"Normally it is, but it's more dangerous for you to avoid it at this point."
"Just try again," Hannah pleaded.
"No, I'm not putting you through that again."
"I'll decide what I can handle! What if Klaue finds us? We'll be sitting ducks."
"We're not going to run into Klaue; Unless you melt my arm again," he added while gesturing to her hand which was tightly holding his arm. She looked over at the arm of the chair she was sitting in. They were completely distorted. She let go of his arm, and he finished wrapping the wound.
"You can't promise that," she pointed out.
"No, but I can promise that if we don't get you to a hospital, you're going to get much worse." Hannah couldn't argue with that, and her arm begged her to listen to him.
"Fine," she growled. "Let's get it over with."
By the time Hannah was looked over by a doctor, her arm was hurting so badly she didn't care that she was in a hospital. She was weak and scared, and she could hardly focus on anything but the pain. She just wanted to be back in Bucharest, but she was stuck in Africa until her arm was taken care of. Bucky was talking to the doctor because Hannah didn't speak Zulu. It made her frustrated that they were discussing important information about her and she couldn't understand it. They looked like they were disagreeing, but she couldn't be sure.
Bucky turned his attention to Hannah and began translating their conversation. "Normally they would be able to just take it out, but it's too deep. They need to put you to sleep."
Hannah's stomach twisted. "Are you sure that's the only way?" He translated her question and nodded with a look of defeat. She gestured for Bucky to come closer, and she brought her voice to a whisper. "You realize they aren't going to let you in the operating room?"
"We don't know that," he countered.
"Let's just assume they don't," she said. "I was kind of counting on watching each other's back."
"It's a hospital, not a CIA facility."
"Hospitals are information libraries! Give them enough information about us, and it will be a CIA facility."
The doctor interrupted them, and Bucky was quick to translate. "They have to start now, Hannah." The man walked out of the room with Bucky right behind him; Hannah didn't have a say in the matter anymore.
Everything was a blur. She didn't remember them putting her to sleep, but she couldn't have been awake. She was somewhere else entirely, but nothing would come into focus. There wasn't a single sound; not even her own heartbeat. She could feel it though. Her heart was pumping in an even rhythm as if it knew she was in no danger. She was sure it was a dream. Right as she came to the conclusion, the world she was in snapped into focus and her heart stopped.
Home.
She was home. Not Bucharest, but her little house, in her little neighborhood where she lived with her parents. She thought she had forgotten it, but it was so clear and detailed. She walked up to the house and ran her hand against the brick. She couldn't believe she had it all in her subconscious.
A green glow suddenly shone through the window, and Hannah stepped back in surprise. She wanted to see what it was, and just like that, she was in the house. It took her a second to get her bearings after the sudden move. She was in her parent's study. She was never allowed to be there when she was little, and she felt a pang of guilt as if she was still the little kid her parents would shoo away from the door. The whole place was bathed in the green glow she saw through the window, and she looked down at her dad's workbench to find the source.
A small green stone was giving off so much light, she could hardly look at it. She walked towards it while squinting against the glow.
"Hannah, move!" A voice coming from the hall made her jump. She slowly walked towards the door, but before she could see who it was, a man barged in with a tool in hand. It was her dad. Hannah almost broke down in tears right there.
"Dad," she whispered.
"Don't yell at her; you'll only worry her," a soft voice came from the same place her fathers had. Her mother appeared at the doorway. Hannah stared at her, not knowing what to say.
"I need to get this crystal neutralized before they find us," her father explained hurriedly as he sat down in front of the green light.
"Dad," Hannah's voice was weak as she walked up to him. "I can help."
"I'm sorry, sweetie, you can't help daddy right now," her mother responded.
Hannah turned around. "I can-" She was cut short when she saw that her mother wasn't talking to her. Peaking through the partially closed doors was Hannah when she was little. Before Hannah could react, her mother scooped up her younger self and carried her away. She didn't remember any of this. It couldn't be real.
"What's going on?" Hannah asked her dad. He didn't answer. "Dad!"
He stood up abruptly and stared right at Hannah. He looked so worried, and she wished she could help him. "Dad..."
Suddenly he began walking forward. Hannah was too late to move out of his way and he walked right through her. Hannah as taken aback. She wasn't there. Of course, she wasn't. He looked out the window and his shoulders tensed.
"What is it?" her mom asked as she walked in the study.
"Where's Hannah?" her father questioned.
"She's safe. Why what's wrong?"
"We're too late," he sighed. Hannah heard cars park outside the house, and suddenly she realized what night she was remembering. "They're armed. Get Hannah and go out the back way."
"I'm not leaving you," her mom argued. Hannah desperately wanted to talk to her. She could tell her to listen to him, and maybe she would've been safe, but she couldn't change what she was seeing. She was seeing the night her parents died. Hannah's heart ached, but the world wouldn't let her cry. She was hardly aware of her parents rushing to hide what they could before the door of the study was kicked in.
A man walked in like he owned the place and started barking orders. His men quickly filled in the room and made a semi-circle of protection for their boss. As soon as he was happy with the formation he stood aside to let another man come through. He was clearly their star soldier. He had a mask that covered his entire face and bulletproof armor over his whole body. Except his arm. His arm glinted in the few rays of light that passed through the room. It was too dark to tell, but it seemed like it was covered in some kind of machinery.
Questions and orders were exchanged in Russian, and Hannah could feel the world slipping away. She was waking up. In a panic, she tried to call out to her parents. Everything was disappearing; soon the memory would be in complete darkness. She begged for them to hear her, but they faded away along with everything else. Everything was gone, but there was one last sound that lingered in her mind as she woke. The sound of a gun firing twice.
Hannah jerked awake and sat up in the hospital bed. She winced as her arm objected to her sudden movement.
"Ah ah ah," a voice warned. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Hannah tried to turn to see where the voice was coming from. Everything was distorted and her mind was still back in her old house with her parents. As she woke up a bit more, she started remembering where she was and what she was doing, and she began to panic.
"Bucky?" she said weakly.
"He's not here I'm afraid," the voice wheezed. Something was familiar about his voice. Hannah froze waiting for him to speak again. "But it's probably for the better. He beat up my best men last we saw him. It's good for him but very bad for us; so he can stay out there." He ended the sentence with a wheezing laugh and Hannah immediately knew who he was. Klaue.