Chapter 4: A Colorful Rescue
Trigger Warning: Violence and brief mention of suicide
I spent the rest of the day brooding in my cell. I was brought food and water at one point; I didn't realize how thirsty I was when they brought it, and before the guard could leave, I asked if I could have more. Thankfully he brought me more, but I refused to touch the food. I was not hungry after the ordeal with Bucky. Images of him in pain and the sound of his cries repeated in my head, and I knew that it would be futile to try and escape and rescue him. There would have been so many little details to try and remember, pathways I knew I couldn't memorize, and there Dugan, Gabe, and the others to think about. I knew I wouldn't be able to leave unless I could take them all with me.
Be patient, I eventually told myself. We will all be rescued soon.
I thought a lot about what exactly was going on right now. How was I in a world where Hydra, Red Skull, Bucky Barnes, and Dum Dum Dugan existed? It was apparent that none of this was a dream, but in fact reality, and that meant Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, was also here, though in a different part of the country. Not only did all of these people exist in this world, but I was living through the events of the movie. I didn't like to think too hard about what was happening, because it made my head dizzy, so I tried to recall where exactly the Hero was at this point of the film.
By now the rain had stopped and the sun shone weakly through the clouds and dirty windows of the factory. Keeping the time of day in mind, I tried to pinpoint exactly where Steve Rogers was. Was he in his Captain America costume trying to boost morale of the decimated 107th troop? Or was he already on his way with Peggy Carter and Howard Stark to try and rescue his friend here at the factory?
"Get up." I jumped and turned to see Barnard standing outside of my cell, glaring down at me.
"You speak English?" I asked incredulously as I got to my feet.
"Of course, now move." He opened the door and stood to the side, motioning me to exit as quickly as I could.
He gave me a rough push forward when I was out, and I stumbled on my feet. When I had regained my footing, he grabbed my left arm and started leading me out through the factory. It was close to quitting time for the POWs, and I could see them still tirelessly working under the watchful gaze of Hydra soldiers. I tried to catch a glimpse of Dugan, Gabe and the others, but Barnard was quick to walk the floor and down a hallway.
I was led back to the room I had started my day in, but this time there was no Bucky. He had been dragged in after I had arrived, so I hastily planned how I could stop Zola and Schmidt from hurting him more. I headed towards the chair to sit absentmindedly, my thoughts focused on Bucky, when Barnard stopped me and then pointed to the metal bed. I hesitated, and wondered why I was wanted on the table.
Barnard's rough hands grabbed me and forced me onto the table in swoop. I cried out in surprise as he clamped down restraints on my wrists and ankles. I struggled helplessly and looked up at Barnard pleadingly. He glared down at me with narrow eyes full of hatred and anger. He stepped aside, revealing Doctor Zola who wheeled in the complicated machine from earlier, along with a tray of shiny, silver instruments. I struggled harder as the blood in my body ran cold. What the hell was happening now?
"Stay calm, this will only hurt a bit," Zola muttered as he picked up the metal wand that he had used on Bucky when I didn't answer his questions.
"Stop! Don't do this!" I yelled, still struggling. The restraints cut into the skin around my wrists and ankles, and I hated how terrified I felt.
Zola touched the metal wand to my right arm and sent shockwaves of electricity through my body. I cringed and arched my back, my mouth opened but no sound came out. I was silently screaming as Zola ran the wand up and down my arm, pausing at various places like my shoulder or elbow. I kept my eyes closed, but in the darkness, I thought I could see a myriad of sparkling colors dance across my eyelids.
I opened my eyes, and the colors still danced wildly around me, Zola, and Barnard. It made me sick to my stomach to watch them swirl and spin, but I couldn't escape them. I saw them whether my eyes were open or closed, and they only got brighter the longer the electricity zapped through my body.
It felt like an eternity before Zola removed the wand and I slammed back onto the table, twitching, and watching the colors swirl into oblivion. The various colors swam in and out of my vision until only three remained in a light haze. There was blue near me, and then red and green near Zola and Barnard.
"Interesting," Zola remarked as he leaned over the table to look down at me. "Her eyes … So strange." He touched the wand to my arm and started the process all over again.
Eventually I let the colors and pain wrap around me until I stopped convulsing on the table. I became numb and watched the strange colors twirl around me. It was a miracle that I wasn't killed with how much electricity was being passed through me. I figured that the "good" doctor was using a low enough pulse that it would only fry me. Maybe eventually kill me, but not for a while.
The colors were what helped me forget the pain. Watching them move and swirl like smoke around me was fascinating. The most prominent color was the blue one; it jumped and stuttered whenever Zola would torture me, like it too could feel the electricity within me.
Zola didn't just torture me with the electric wand device. Throughout the hours I was in the room he stopped and wrote things down on a clipboard, and at a time took a sample of blood from me. He took measurements and pictures, and used some instrument to scan my right hand with. My protesting had died down after the first hour of electro-torture, so I watched with half-closed eyes, desperately hoping this would all be over soon.
"Doctor Zola, your presence is required in the factory." A grainy voice called over an intercom system. It echoed down the halls and made the mad doctor pause in his examination.
"What could He want now?" Zola muttered to himself as he placed his clipboard and tools on the small table that held the electric machine. "You can come with me. She is not going anywhere." He motioned for Barnard to follow him, and the soldier obediently followed the doctor out of the room.
I was finally alone in the room. The quiet, along with the absence of pain, was a sweet relief that drenched over me. Soon, I began to tremble, and tears filled my eyes, falling out the corners and down towards my ears. I swallowed back sobs and gritted my teeth together. I didn't care if Zola and Barnard saw that I had been crying, but I didn't want anyone to hear me screaming. I didn't want to give that satisfaction.
"That. Just. Sucked." I said aloud, to remind myself that I could still talk and was still alive. More tears flooded my eyes and face, and this time I had to bite my lip to not scream out in frustration.
"It is not what I had thought would happen, but I promise it is to help you." I flinched and craned my head around to see who had spoken then.
I didn't see anyone at first, but then a strange man materialized out of nowhere, standing beside me, and looking down at me with a sad smile. The man had a large head, larger than what I've seen before, and glowing white eyes. He wore a white toga looking outfit and was wrapped in a dark blue cloak with an extravagant collar. Whoever this was stood out like a sore thumb in this dark room.
"Are," I furrowed my brow. "Are you The Watcher?" I asked, my eyes widening at the realization.
"Not The Watcher, but I am a Watcher. In fact, I am one of the many Watchers from your reality, not this one." He explained, and my mouth dropped open in surprise.
I continued to stare at him in utter confusion. My vision had cleared now; I could no longer see the strange blue color swirling around me, and the Watcher stood unobstructed in my sight. It was hard to believe, because I was pretty sure that the immense pain, I was in was causing me to hallucinate. My entire body felt as if it had been stung by a million bees, and my head pounded relentlessly. Still, the Watcher looked down at me as the sun set and night began to darken the sky outside.
"Watchers are real?" I whispered, trying to make sense of everything.
"Yes, though our role is vastly different back in your reality than that of the comic books created by humans. We observe and take note, and in times of desperate need, we step in. I promise that I did not see this happening when I decided to send you here." The Watcher explained, sighing deeply as he admitted his mistake.
"So, you sent me here? On purpose?" I asked him, my voice a little accusatory.
"We Watchers have a keen sense of purpose, Maddie Davis. At times we feel a strong ripple in the current of time that tells us that someone is close to stepping into the darkness. This is where we differ from the creations of Marvel Comics. Life is a serious matter, and every few millennia we are allowed one soul to try and save.
"In order for us to choose we have to feel such a significant push in time that we know whoever it is will be sorely missed in the future. I wish greatly I could help everyone who goes down these paths, but I am limited in power." He explained it so effortlessly, like the concept was an equation easily taught in one of my college math classes. I could understand a little of it, but my mind still spun with the influx of information.
Watchers were real? Move on, next question.
"What made you choose me? I'm not anyone special, like a future president or doctor." I closed my eyes and took deep, steadying breaths, and then opened them again.
"Your recent past experiences and dip in mental health are what pulled me toward you. Rather forcefully, I might add." He explained. "Do you remember the last thing you thought seriously about before now?" I shook my head. "You thought of taking your own life."
My heart stopped and the world seemed to crash around me. He was right of course. I had been in a definite dark place during the week, and at one point I was sure that taking my life would be the end all I needed. The moment the thought had popped into my head I had burst into tears and tried desperately to find something to take my mind off my own thoughts. I ended up downstairs in the living room watching Captain America the First Avenger and crocheting a lumpy scarf.
"That moment pulled me right to you, and I understood that one thing in the world made you happy and safe: the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I created a way for you to experience it and have it help you heal somehow." He nodded his head along with his words. I took it all in with wide eyes.
"You sent me here to be tortured by a crazy Hydra leader obsessed with magic power and his equally crazy scientist?" My voice was hoarse now and rose in volume.
"I did my best to provide an experience." He said anxiously in his own defense. "It seems your mind and imagination melded with my creation of the realm, and once I create it there is nothing I can do but watch as it goes, and try to help where I can." To emphasize this, the Watcher extended his hand and a wave of warmth and comfort spread throughout my body. The pain was gone and I suddenly felt relaxed and pain-free.
"Then I'm really in Austria, with Red Skull, Bucky Barnes, and Captain America?" I asked after a long pause. The Watcher nodded and I turned to stare up at the ceiling. "Do I really have supernatural powers?" I asked out of the corner of my mouth.
"I did not create such powers for you, but I do not know what will happen later." He answered and I sighed.
"How am I even here?" I looked at him expectantly.
"Technically, this is a dream. Your real body is asleep in your bed back in our reality. I transferred your consciousness here, in a duplicate body." Watcher explained. "You need to live out this reality and let it remind you who you are and what you believe in."
I took some deep breaths as I took in all this information. It made sense, in a way, but a few things really confused me. It was nice to have a confirmation that I was really in a world with my favorite super hero, but there were still so many things that could happen. What if I died? What would happen to me then? The Watcher gazed down at me calmly as I grappled with the many questions I wanted to ask; I didn't know if I would get answers from him though. Instead, I settled on asking for promise.
"Okay, I'll go with this strange dream or reality," I told him. "But can you promise me that I won't be tortured anymore today?" I pleaded.
"I think you are about to be rescued, actually." I cocked an eyebrow at the Watcher as the lights in the room flickered and swayed. Somewhere in the building something like a muffled explosion sounded, and there were frantic yells.
"That was quick," I muttered, craning my head to look at the opened door to the hallway. When I turned to look back at the Watcher, he was gone; he had disappeared back into the void.
A panicked voice came over the intercom demanding people to gear up and head to the eastern side of the compound. A few people ran down the hallway and by the room I was in, yelling and carrying guns. I could only watch helplessly, struggling against the straps that bound my wrists and ankles. I needed to get out quickly or I would be stuck in the rubble.
"Maddie!" I jerked my head up to see Conrad standing in the doorway. He looked a little disheveled but had a determine glint in his blue eyes.
"Conrad? What's going on?" I asked him as he rushed to my side and began to undo the restraints binding me to the table.
"Some American soldier has shown up and is attempting to rescue the prisoners." He told me as he freed my wrists and ankles. "I am going to get you to safety." He helped me off the metal bed and led me to the doorway. I leaned against him as we walked, the warmth the Watcher had given me slowly fading away, replaced with the pain from before.
The halls around us were eerily empty, and full of the muffled sounds of gunfire and explosions. Occasionally the floor beneath us would shudder and shake, and we had to stumble along as best we could. Conrad led me down hall and through a maze of corridors that crisscrossed everywhere. At one point an image of Bucky flashed in my mind, and I almost told Conrad that we had to go back. I stopped myself though because I knew Bucky would be found and end up safely out of the factory.
I held onto Conrad tightly as we reached a metal door. He opened it, and fresh air wafted around us. The cool evening air was a relief to me, but I didn't get to enjoy it long as the sound of battle crashed down around us. Conrad pushed me outside as a blue beam shot right in front of us from out of nowhere.
"What was that?" I yelled, clutching at Conrad who held me back as he scouted ahead.
"Tesseract beam," He replied, like it wasn't some inter-dimensional weapon that vaporized people. "Come on,"
We staggered into the open yard of the factory, dodging past clambering soldiers of both Hydra and non-Hydra variety. We ducked when weapons discharged and dodged errant beams of blue light. I watched with wide eyes as the men of Hydra began to realize that they were fighting a losing battle, many of them turning to flee. Through all the chaos I caught sight of a familiar face: Dum Dum Dugan!
"Dugan!" I yelled, waving my arms to catch his attention.
"Maddie, you have to go to him." Conrad said, pushing my gently in Dugan's direction.
"Wait, you have to come with us." I turned and looked up at the young German soldier, who only smiled sadly in return.
"I cannot," He admitted. "It was risky of me to even help you escape." Dugan appeared at my side, and I grabbed Conrad's hands.
"You'll get killed," Fresh tears began to trickle down my face as I held tightly onto him. He wasn't a Hydra soldier, or even a Nazi soldier, he was too kind, too empathetic. He was the one person who had truly cared for me in this crazy situation I was in, and I didn't want to lose him.
"Please take her," Conrad freed his hands from my grasp and gently pushed me towards Dugan, who gripped my shoulders tightly. He nodded grimly and began to drag me backwards, lightly, and then urgently.
"Conrad!" Dugan and I froze at the voice that had called out a few yards away. Standing behind Conrad was his brother, Barnard. He held a pistol in his hands and had it pointed at Conrad. "You are a traitor to your kind." Barnard's voice dripped with venom.
"Go, now!" Conrad hissed at us as he turned to face his own family member.
"No! Conrad!" I yelled out, close to a sob. Dugan wrapped his arm around me and began dragging me away from the fight, and towards the other fleeing prisoners. He managed to turn me around and pull me, but then there was a loud bang and I spun around. Conrad lay motionless on the ground, and Barnard held a smoking gun.
"That Kraut is out for blood!" I heard Dugan yell, but then all sound faded away from my ears, and my eyes were locked on Conrad's body. I didn't see Dugan pull out a weapon of his own and fire at Barnard, who dodged the shot and then dived into the darkness of the forest.
I was out of it, spaced as I thought of Conrad, who had literally lost his life rescuing me from the crazed ideas of Johann Schmidt and Arnim Zola. When I wouldn't move, Dugan lifted me up effortlessly, and another pair of arms pulled me up and into the cabin of a tank. Dugan yelled at Gabe to get us the hell out of here, and the large tank rumbled out of the factory grounds. My mind, though, stayed with Conrad's dead body, back on the ground, right outside the factory. My mind's eye was focused on his body in the dirt.
I cried, just full on cried then. I buried my face in my hands as the men around me whooped and hollered at their escape to freedom. At some point I was pulled into an embrace, and I looked up to see Gabe who had his arm around me in a tight embrace. He held me there, and I leaned against him, crying as explosions rocked the ground beneath us.
Somewhere back inside the factory, Steven and Bucky had reunited, and Captain America was introduced to his nemesis: Red Skull. After this, the legend of Captain America would burst off the silver screen for people back home, and he would become a real-life hero.