Chapter 65: Glimpses

May 27, 1947

Ah, the sweet smell of freedom. Turns out, it smelled like a musty bunker.

Zola strode through the front doors, head high and smile on as he greeted the troops that waited so eagerly for his return. After two years living in the US under the dreaded Operation Paperclip, he was now granted enough amnesty to travel to foreign lands again.

"From one war to another." he said as he spotted Dr. Volkov. The man smiled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Keeps us in business." he replied in his thick Russian accent. Zola always thought the Soviets sounded rather unrefined, but Volkov had proved time and again that his contributions were invaluable. He turned as Zola reached him, purposefully slowing down his walk so that Zola, with his shorter legs, could keep up. It was infuriating, but necessary, like most things in science. "How was America?"

"Oh, you know." Zola said, waving away the question. "So many flags. So many babies. It's like they think war will never come again."

"And yet here we are." Volkov said. "How did you manage a trip here?"

"'The Red Scare,' they're calling it." Zola said. "Just the CIA of course. They are under the impression that I am here to gather intelligence from this, ah, abandoned base. Frankly, my understanding of technology is ages ahead of theirs."

"That's what happens when the right mind has the right resources." Volkov said. Doors hissed open into the back labs, showing off technicians and other scientists in white lab coats moving to and fro between computer terminals and machines. "Would you like to rest first? It is a very long trip, and Siberia is unforgiving to those unaccustomed."

"I've had plenty of rest the past two years, thank you." Zola said, tapping his fingers together. "I'd like to get to work."

"Very well. I have managed to create a new weapon with the ability to blast a hole the size of a baseball through a man's chest." Volkov sounded very proud, and Zola had to stop himself from grimacing at the imagery.

"That sounds, ah, wonderful, Doctor." Zola said, glad that Volkov didn't notice his discomfort. "But I was hoping to get to work on my project."

"Ah, yes, the soldiers." Volkov said, not nearly as excited. He jerked his head towards another set of double doors. "This way. We haven't tried to wake them, so it's possible that they're dead."

"Oh, they're not dead." Zola said. He knew his serum was perfect, as long as the host could tolerate it and didn't die. Subjects #014 and #037 would wake up, given the right environment. "Bring them out, please."

As they passed a group of technicians around a table, Volkov barked something in Russian, and the men leapt into action. They hit the double doors before the doctors did, every one of them forgetting to hold it for him. Clearly they had no idea who he was. But that didn't matter. What mattered were his pride and joy.

The technicians rolled out the large, green cylinders, the glass portholes frosted over with ice. Vapor leaked from the edges of the canisters as the warmth of the lab hit them. There was no pomp nor circumstance like Zola wanted; the technicians merely cut the power to the cold, the chambers hissing as they depressurized.

Oh, no.

They looked dead.

Zola felt the anger bubbling up in his chest as he took in the pale skin and blue lips of the subjects, frost covering most of their exposed skin. Volkov had one job, one job back in Austria, and now the entire plan was ruined.

"You bumbling idiot." he seethed. Volkov balked at the reprimand, immediately puffing his chest in an effort to appear physically imposing. Zola didn't care about physical altercations; he'd been picked on for his size his entire life. What was one more bully attempting to intimidate him? "You killed them!"

"I did what you instructed." Volkov said. "'Put them in ice,' you said. I put them in the ice. It is your machine. It is not my fault it didn't work. I tried to warn you-"

"And here I thought you were smart enough to give their respiratory organs some protection." Zola snapped. "You didn't get this far by following instructions, so forgive me if I'm angry that you were too lazy to ensure the survival of our assets!"

"We have plenty of other assets to chose from-"

"But a finite amount of serum!" he interrupted. He didn't tell Volkov that all the remaining serum was destroyed when stupid Captain America and his band of goons arrived, and that now they were going to have to reverse engineer it using the blood of these two subjects. "Not to mention, a limited amount of assets that can tolerate it! I'm still surprised subject #014 survived, given that she is female. #037 is obviously the stronger of the two. Or was, rather, before you killed them."

"I did nothing of the sort! It was your machine and the time it took you to get here-"

"I've been held prisoner-"

"You've been playing little kid scientist with American money! And I have been here, continuing the work of Hydra, unlike you."

"You-" Zola stopped himself, trying to gather some composure. It wouldn't do well to let Volkov in on the entire plan. That would just lead to a higher likelihood of betrayal. He was too angry to do the calculations, but he knew the percentage was unacceptable. "I have been gathering information, so that I may return here and finish the Red Skull's dream. Our dream, that we built together under direction of the Führer-"

"The same Führer that abandoned you when you defied him? The one who took a coward's way out when he saw he was losing the war?" Volkov said. Zola gritted his teeth. This stupid idiot Soviet had no idea about any of this. For such a brilliant scientist, he was so small minded that it physically pained Zola.

"Sometimes, power becomes too great for a man." he said. Red Skull certainly found that out the hard way, and now Zola had to clean up the mess he left behind. Another thing to add to the list. "And now we-"

A shuddering gasp interrupted them, and both turned attention to the containers. Subject #014 started coughing, blood dripping from her mouth as she struggled to breathe. Her green eyes ran wild as she tried to figure out where she was and what was happening. She spotted subject #037, and started to scream. Zola didn't even mind the volume of the ear piercing shriek; he couldn't stop the smile from his face.

One of the subjects lived. His work wasn't a wash after all!

"Barnes!" Subject #014 screamed as loud as she could, her voice raw. She started coughing again, and this time the blood painted the floor beneath her. "Barnes, Barnes wake up, Barnes I-"

"Now, now, Nurse Peters," Zola said. Two years, and he still remembered their names. He had to, while they still knew them. One day he would burn it out of them, and be able to remove that information from his mind. "You're going to harm yourself if you keep-"

Subject #014 spat at him. A glob of blood and spit landed against his glasses, and he felt as droplets peppered his face.

"Fuck you, you bitch ass mother fucker-"

"Such foul language for such a beautiful subject." Zola said, stepping out of spitting range so he could remove his glasses and clean them. She looked positively feral in that moment, but that was fine. They could beat the feral out of her. They couldn't train her if she was dead.

"Barnes, wake up." she said again, giving Subject #037 a pleading look. Zola sighed.

"I'm afraid that it is just you, my dear. Thanks to the incompetence of my colleague here." he said. Volkov glared, but before he could speak, a sound like rocks in the bottom of a can echoed from the other chamber.

Subject #037 was alive too.

"Barnes, oh my God-"

"Lu? Lu, where are we-" He spotted Zola, and his icy blue eyes hardened. "You. I'm going to kill you-" The threat was interrupted by a wracking cough as his lungs defrosted. Ah, perhaps freezing their respiratory system wasn't a bad idea after all. Zola's smile widened, despite both subjects shouting expletives at him.

"Warm up the shock machine." he said to one of the technicians. The man - no more than a boy, really - saluted him and went to follow orders. Finally, the respect he deserved.

"We're set to begin then?" Volkov said, wary. Zola was still mildly upset with him, but since both subjects survived, he was more willing to forgive. He pulled a red notebook from his pocket, idly running his thumb over the star on the cover.

"Yes. It is time to get to work."

February 22, 1948

It was cold, it was cold, it was so fucking cold-

She tried to take in a breath, grimacing as the ice coating her lungs cracked and the tissue protested. She blinked the frost from her eyes, struggling to remember where she was, who she was. The area in front of her had men in lab coats running around like ants, clipboards in hand. They spoke in a language she didn't recognize. She tried to move her arms, or her legs, but her blood felt frozen in her veins, and deep pressure made her realize that she was tied to wherever she was.

Barnes.

Where was Barnes?

She started to scream, but a memory that was still reforming told her that screaming would not help. Even the thought of it brought the coppery taste of blood to her mouth. Left. Barnes was always to her left, right?

He was unconscious in the tube next to her, so still that for a second, she thought he was dead. But he couldn't be dead, he couldn't. If she had survived, then so did he. That was the way it worked. They always survived together.

"Barnes." she said, her voice cracking from disuse. How long were they frozen? "Barnes!"

A man shouted at her in the unknown language, but she didn't need to speak it to understand what he meant. She glared at him, her lip curling in anger.

"I won't shut up." she snarled. "Let me out of here. Let me out!"

She pulled against the restraints, her skin warm enough that the numbness was fading and she could feel as they cut into her. She didn't care; if she could survive being frozen, she could survive this. The man yelled at her again - Russian, she realized now the language was Russian - and pointed the business end of a rifle at her. She pulled against the restraints again, and this time the leather groaned in protest. The man's angry words turned to fearful as Lu felt the leather stretch. Her body felt tight, but not in the frozen way. Now, she felt tight like a cobra ready to spring.

All her life, all she wanted to do was help people. But these people were threatening her, threatening Barnes. The Hippocratic Oath would not apply here.

Us or them. That's what Barnes told her, back in the cages. She'd had such trepidations then, about harming the people. She was losing those.

Other people were taking notice as she struggled, more men coming and yelling and either pointing guns or telling them to put the guns down. She gathered that they expected her to wake first, but they did not expect for her to fight back.

She'd spent all her life avoiding fights, and she was done with it.

The leather snapped around her right arm, and with a strength she didn't consciously register she reached around and tore the rest of the restraints off. The men opened fire on her, but other lab coats pushed the weapons away, trying to stop them from harming her. She tumbled from the canister, her legs not quite ready to support her as the muscles thawed. She didn't remember having this much muscle on her legs. It was going to come in handy.

She didn't know how to fight, but she did know the places to hit that would hurt the most. She grabbed the nearest rifle by the muzzle, ripping it from its holder and smacking him across the face with the butt of it. He dropped like a sack of rocks, and the rest of them descended on her.

"Barnes!" she screamed. If she could get out, so could he, and then they could fight their way out of this. That's what he'd been teaching her, right? How to fight? She couldn't remember. She struggled against the wave of men diving on her, calling for Barnes. If he would just wake up-

The men in lab coats didn't hear the clicks and gears turning, but she did. She remembered the metal arm.

Barnes was awake.

Unlike her, he was utterly silent save for the mechanical sound of the arm. It easily ripped through his restraints, and while he stumbled as he exited the chamber, he got his feet under him quickly. His eyes met hers, and she saw nothing but his unbridled rage.

Somehow, the sight comforted her.

Barnes grabbed the nearest scientist by the scruff of his neck and threw him, his body leaving a crack in the wall where he hit. The men started really losing their minds then, trying to contain both of them as they fought toward each other. His movements were precise and methodical and hers much less so, but that didn't matter. She just had to get to him, and they'd be okay.

She lost sight of him as somewhere doors slammed open. The sounds of boots on the ground gave Lu a better idea of where they were coming from and she tried to move, tried to wiggle her way out from the dog pile, but even with all the strength in her body she was stuck. She tried to call for Barnes but all the air was pushed from her lungs as someone slammed a knee into her ribs. He was still moving, she could hear that much, but she couldn't see him.

The smell and sound of electricity cut through the air, and a second later she heard as Barnes let out a strangled cry. Burnt skin joined the perfume of the bunker, making Lu's stomach roll. The electricity hit her next, sending a wave so strong and hot through her that she thought she was going to explode. Her mind went white, and she lost all track of what was going on as they fried every bit of her.

When she came to again, they were back in restraints. This time, they were metal. She pushed against them, the edges immediately slicing into her arms, the tang of blood assaulting her senses. She looked to her left, some of her panic calming as she saw Barnes. He was awake too, and looking at her.

"I'm gonna get us out of here." he promised.

"I know you are." she said. She tried to take a deep breath, but the metal bar across her chest wouldn't let her. She moved her head as much as she could, and as far as she could tell, the room was empty.

"I'm sorry." he said, his voice breaking half way through. She turned back to him so quickly the metal restraint sliced her forehead. She didn't care.

"Don't apologize." she said, feeling her lower lip tremble. "If you apologize, then we'll get emotional, and if we get emotional, then we won't be able to get out of here."

He licked his lips. "You're right." he said, his voice steadier this time. "You're always right."

"I know." she said. "You better remember that for the rest of our lives."

"You won't let me forget, I'm sure." he said, giving her that grin that made her fall in love with him all over again. She held onto that feeling; it was much more comforting than the fear or the anger.

"Hey. I love you." she said. She remembered before, when she'd been so scared to admit it, or to tell him unprompted. Why did she do that? That was stupid. His smile grew.

"I love you too." he said. "And when I kill everyone in this place and burn it to the ground, we're getting married at the first church we find, I don't care what practice it is."

It was good that he was so optimistic. She needed that right now. "Even if there's no church, I feel like it won't count as living in sin after all this."

"Tell that to my mother." he replied. Hinges squeaked as the door opened, and his smile changed to a deadly stare. "You again."

"Yes, yes, get it all out now." Zola sounded annoyed. Was it because of Barnes' attitude, or because they'd managed to kill or maim a few of his lackeys? "What am I today?"

"Nothing." Barnes seethed. "You're a waste of space. A waste of life."

"Oh, that's a new one." he said, unbothered. Lu watched as he opened a red notebook and started scribbling in it. "Perhaps I should monitor your brainwaves during your time in the ice. Your time to mental recovery is decreasing, which means the serum is strengthening."

"Let's test some other things the serum gave us." Barnes said. Lu was glad for his bravado, because she was currently distracted by the surgical instruments and IV bags on the table Zola's assistant rolled in. Another assistant, this one in black combat gear and carrying an electrical shock stick, came to stand next to her.

"Ah, we don't have time for that today." Zola said. He was so calm, and it scared her. He sat on a rolling stool and scooted next to Lu, his assistant coming up with a needle and IV. Lu tried to move away, but she was locked down tight. The assistant laid the IV and put a kink in the tube, keeping whatever sinister liquid from reaching her veins. "Subject #014, codename Summer-"

"My name is Lucille." she said. Zola sighed and gestured to the soldier in tactical gear, who shocked her without hesitation. She didn't lose consciousness this time, but the effects remained, her brain feeling utterly empty for a split second before it started to heal.

"Let her go! Start with me-" Whatever Barnes had to say was interrupted by more electricity.

"You are Summer." Zola said. Lu blinked, her mind knitting back together.

"No, I'm Lucille-" More electricity. This time, when the burning stopped, the assistant opened the IV, allowing something cool to flow through her, making her already cracked mind foggy.

"You are Summer." the man in the lab coat said again. Summer? That wasn't right. Summer was a season. She was-

"Lucille." She screamed as someone she couldn't see hit her with searing pain. Her vision went dark, coming back to her slowly. She looked at the man in the lab coat through a haze.

"You are Summer." he said. Someone was screaming in the background, but she couldn't make out the words. His voice sounded familiar, and elicited a sensation in her chest. Who was he? Who was she?

"Summer." The man said again.

April 3, 1949

Pain seared through his brain and down his spine, spinning through his extremities. He bit down hard, expecting the taste of blood but instead tasting rubber and plastic as his teeth dug into something. The mouth piece muffled his groans of pain and prevented him from cracking his jaw, though the bones definitely protested.

The man in the lab coat was there, smiling at him. "Hello, Winter Soldier." he said. That was not his name. He knew that was not, but he found he couldn't actually remember his name. He couldn't remember anything, except…

Someone. He was supposed to be with someone. Save someone?

He heard the sound of the machine again and flinched reflexively, but it was not his machine. He looked to his right, pushing against the metal as far as it would let him to try and see. He saw her pale skin, her blonde hair. Her. She was important, he needed to be with her, she was-

Another wave of pain through his brain, this time followed by a hiss and a release of calm. He felt high, too high, like the moment at the top of the Cyclone. The Cyclone? What was that?

"No." The word wasn't clear, but the man in the lab coat got the point.

"Ah, ah, Soldier." he said. "You know how we feel about that kind of talk."

Did he?

More pain. More calm. His head felt so stuffed with cotton that he was surprised his eyes didn't pop out of his head.

"Longing." Someone said in Russian. Since when did he know Russian?

Pain. High.

"Rusted."

Pain. High.

He tried to fight it, his chest heaving. If he could just breathe, then he could get this stuff out of him.

"Seventeen."

Seventeen. He'd been seventeen when…something…something important happened. What was it?

Pain. High.

"Daybreak."

Pain. High.

"Furnace."

He kept trying to fight, kept trying to breathe in an effort to get out of this. But his limbs felt heavy, and his mind felt disconnected from his body.

The girl. His girl. He tried to look for her, but any movement of his eyes sent his vision spinning and made bile rise to the back of his throat.

"Nine."

The pain seemed further away this time, and the high moved from the clouds to the depths of the ocean. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything.

"Benign."

It sounded like he was under water. Was that all this was? Benign? That word did not seem to fit. But he didn't know enough about anything to question it. Darkness covered him, the last shock of pain barely more than a tickle, and the last dose of the high closed his eyes. The man said another word, but he didn't hear it.

Winter opened his eyes, blinking and taking in his surroundings. Ten people present; five in tactical gear, four in lab coats, and one in a chair like his. She was unconscious. Did he know her? She was different than the rest.

"Soldat?" The short man in front of him asked. It took a moment for Winter to realize he was talking to him. In rough Russian the man asked, "Are you ready to comply?"

Winter thought for a moment. Was that not his goal? He was a soldier. Soldiers were meant to follow orders. "Ready to comply." he said. The man's face lit up with an emotion that meant nothing to Winter, and he turned to his colleague.

"It worked!" he exclaimed. The other man stared at Winter, his expression indecipherable. The shorter man continued. "We've done it. We've finally cracked them. We have our perfect soldiers."

"We haven't tested them yet." The taller man said. His accent was different. He nodded at Winter. "Soldat, kill that man." He spoke in Russian and gestured to another lab coat next to him, a gangly man who was too busy scribbling on a clipboard to realize what was happening. Without hesitation, Winter reached out with his right hand and snapped his neck. He turned back to the commanding officers, awaiting further orders.

"We've really done it." the shorter man said. He followed it up with a prayer in German, but Winter stopped listening once he realized it had nothing to do with his orders. The shorter man put down his red book, going instead to the blonde woman. Winter noticed she was awake now.

"Soldat?" he asked her, this time with much more confidence. "Are you ready to comply?"

The blonde turned to Winter, her green eyes piercing into him. He did not remember her, but he knew that she was important. The word partner went through his mind. This woman was his partner. He nodded to her, and she turned back to the commanding officer.

"Ready to comply." she said, her voice like honey. The taller man tried to hide his look of shock, but Winter caught it before he was able to school it away.

"Excellent, excellent!" the shorter man said, clapping his hands. He gestured towards them. "Stand up, now, stand up. We have a lot of work ahead of us, and very little time in which to complete it. Ah, my Winter Soldier and my Summer Soldier. Just when I was beginning to doubt you, you came through for me."

Winter looked at Summer, catching her eye. She barely, barely raised an eyebrow. Good, so she was just as confused by whatever was happening as he was. At least he wasn't alone.

"Come, come, Volkov, are you ready to initiate the next part in the plan?" the smaller man asked. Volkov, if that was his title, let out a shaking breath as his nervous eyes flicked between Winter and Summer.

"Dear God, what have we done?"

Aaaaah we're here! I hope y'all don't mind that this chapter was structured a little differently. Poor babies, I feel so bad for them!

So with F&WS over, I'll now be working on two stories. I'm hoping to update both every weekend, but I also don't want to make promises I can't keep, so updates may be a bit off as I figure out my time management skills. That said, I'm going out of town next weekend, so I may not be able to update at all. Oops!

As always, I love love love all your feedback. Please leave a review and let me know what you think! And also your feelings about F&WS ah!

(also, for those who are into it...silver and honey is updated today too!)

-XM