Author's Note: This chapter title comes from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith.
Chapter Nine - I think it's better to suffer (to fight and to scream out)
"Dad. Bacon. Rhodey. Pepper. Dad. Bacon. Rhodey. Pepper. Dad. Bacon. Rhodey—"
She broke off with a shriek of surprise, though she couldn't hear it despite the obvious vibrations in her throat. Whatever had touched her lips took that as an opportunity to slip past her teeth and then cool water was draining down her throat. Then the drink pulled away and Danielle arched in a poor attempt to follow it, whining. A hand smoothed across her chin for a moment before that pulled away as well.
"Please don't leave me alone again," she begged. "Please."
There was no answer. Danielle thought that maybe she started crying at that, but she wasn't quite sure. Her blindfold was already soaked with tears and she wasn't sure she had any left.
She forced herself to repeate the names she couldn't hear, and the memory of what they sounded like was slipping from between her fingers.
"D-dad. Bacon." A beat where she struggled. "Rhodey. Pepper."
She was having trouble remembering the last name by the time she felt someone's presence again. Her skin prickled and she shifted, stiff joints protesting. A hand pressed against her arm and she couldn't stop herself from leaning into it, desperate for the contact. Fingers drew circles comfortingly on her bare skin. The pressure around her raw ears lifted and a ringing began in her brain.
"Danielle? My dear? Can you hear me?"
The voice snapped her back to reality and she threw herself away from him. Her shoulders wrenched, wrists snatching her back as she tried to escape. "Get away!" she yelled. And for the first time in god knew how long she could hear her own voice. It was raw and raspy and exhausted but she could hear it.
Pierce sighed loudly and then her blindfold was snatched away. Danielle whimpered and screwed her eyes shut to avoid the light hissing against her retina in the pure white room. "Oh, dear," he murmured. "Are we still on that?"
"I'm not doing a fucking thing for you," she spat out. She tried to open her eyes but recoiled at the light. "Checkmate. So what now? You keep torturing me until I give in?"
"Torture?" he asked. "Oh, no, no, no, darling. This isn't torture. These are just lessons. I'm trying to help you see the truth, but I can't help you see it unless you cooperate."
She managed to squint at his blurry, haloing figure. "Cooperate this." She spat at him.
Pierce drew back and dragged his hand across his face. "Fine, then." He pulled away from her. "Take her back to the water. Take as long as you'd like."
Danielle screwed her eyes shut and bit her lip harshly to keep the pained noises inside as hands began undoing the bindings around her aching wrists. Hands dragged her to her feet and her knees locked, stuck from kneeling in the same position for however long she'd been there. Her feet twitched as she tried to straighten her legs, but she didn't manage to get her footing before they began dragging her. The scabs on the top of her feet tore away against the concrete again and Danielle whined in pain.
One of the guards holding her pushed open a door and she flinched as she saw the familiar bucket. She wrestled weakly against them, but she was physically exhausted from lack of food and emotionally exhausted from the ordeal as a whole. So she fell easily to her knees when they pushed her down. She just shuddered and caught her breath in preparation.
Fingers pinched her nose and Danielle's eyes widened. Her lungs began to sting and she squirmed uselessly. Air forced its way up and she struggled to resist. But then natural bodily function took over and forced her to gasp. Just as she did, a hand on the back of her head shoved her forward into the water. She instinctively inhaled and was rewarded with a mouthful of tepid water. Her lungs swelled and she pushed up against the hands holding her down. They didn't budge. She felt her consciousness slipping and she screamed, water draining down her throat.
They pulled her up and Danielle desperately coughed up water in an attempt to clear her lungs. Before she could finish, they thrust her down into the water again.
They wanted to break her, she knew that much. But more than that, they wanted to use her. And they couldn't use her if they broke her body, only if they broke her mind. And if she could keep herself together. If she could stay strong long enough that they gave up, that they were ashamed to hurt her anymore, then maybe she could survive this.
Dad, Bacon, Rhodey, Pepper.
She lost consciousness under the water.
When she woke up, her arms were pinned above her head and her feet were dangling several inches above the floor. A whimper crawled up her throat as she came to. She tilted her head back, arms pressing harshly against her collar, and was able to get a look at the cuffs holding her wrists bound and where the chain hung from a hook on the wall. She shifted and froze.
Danielle swallowed thickly and looked down at her naked body. She forced herself to keep her breathing steady and she glanced upward at the guards at the door and the chair in the middle of the room. Pierce sat there, a cup of tea in hand as if he didn't even realize she was there. She took a deep breath.
Humiliation. It made sense, of course. Just another way to break her pride. It's just a body, she told herself. Just a body. Scientifically, just a body.
With that held firmly in the front of her mind, twisting around the names she was keeping there, she stared directly at Pierce. "This isn't my favorite way to wake up, if I'm being honest."
His gaze flicked up to her and he calmly lifted an eyebrow, sipping at his tea.
She was well aware her voice was aching and hoarse but she did her best to inject her usual snark. "Enjoying the view?"
Still no answer.
"So, are you planning on feeding me any time soon? Or giving me something other than just a few tablespoons of water a day?"
Pierce set his empty cup down with a sigh and passed it off to a guard that stepped forward. He crossed one leg over but didn't say anything.
"Is this how you broke Barnes, then? Years and years of treating him like an animal? Or was it something else?"
He paused at that. "You recognized him, then?"
She licked her dry and cracked lips and they started bleeding. "I know Steve Rogers."
"Ah. Of course." He pushed himself to his feet and stepped towards her. "We had a different method with him. A chair that we can put him in." He reached out and dragged his finger across her collarbone. She put everything she had into keeping from flinching. He smiled. "It erased his memories. Made him ours to mold. But I wouldn't dream of doing that to you. No, your mind is simply to precious to risk, sweetheart."
She lifted her chin to try to get away from his touch. "You, you took his memories?" she choked out.
"Why, is that pity I hear?"
Danielle swallowed again. She met his curious gaze coldly. "He deserves better."
A smile twitched his lips. "Is that so?" He drew back. "Fascinating. And you Starks are infamous for your selfishness, yet . . . here we are." He turned sharply on his heel. "Enjoy your alone time, my dear. I'll be back . . . eventually."
The guards followed him out the door. Danielle let her head fall back against the wall harshly and let out a shaky breath. "Dad," she whispered. "Bacon. Rhodey. Pepper. Dad. Bacon. Rhodey. Pepper. Dad. Bacon. Rhodey. Pepper."
She'd lost her voice by the time the door opened again. She could feel the swelling in her hands, and that was the only feeling left in her hands. She'd tried several times to brace her feet against the wall, but they'd long since fallen asleep and all she could feel there was needles.
Pierce motioned the guards forward and the moved to stand by her but didn't take her down. He smiled. "Let me lay some ground rules, my dear. You mention the name Stark, he goes back in the chair. You mention Rogers, he goes back in the chair. You mention his real name, he goes back in the chair. Do you understand the general idea?"
Her mouth was dry and she wasn't sure she believed what he was implying. But she managed a nod.
"Good." He motioned to the guards.
Hands gripped her waist and lifted her upwards. She heard the hiss of metal on metal as her cuffs slid off the hook. They set her on the ground and she stumbled. They let her fall and she hit the concrete harshly, knocking the wind out off her chest. Coughing harshly, she scrabbled against the ground for purchase. Her knees shook and ached as she struggled back up to her feet. The guards grabbed her arms, though she knew for certain that she didn't have the energy to fight back.
Pierce stepped aside as they pushed her through the door. The grips on her arms were tight and she knew that they were going to be simply more bruises to add to the ones already littering her bare body. They suddenly jerked her to a stop and opened the door to her left, shoving her into her room.
She hit the floor again and the door slammed behind her. A whine started in the back of her throat and Danielle curled in on herself. But she didn't cry. She didn't have it left in her.
Dad. Bacon. Rhodey. Pepper.
She forced herself up and limped to the stall, where she practically fell into the shower. Danielle turned on the knob and the water hit her in the face. She stumbled backward with a gasp and she couldn't breathe, they were holding her under, she couldn't move. She couldn't—
Danielle fumbled for the knob and managed to turn it off. With a groan, she sank to the floor and curled her arms around her head.
Dad. Bacon. Rhodey. Pepper.
She struggled up and turned the water on low, just enough of a drip so she could scrub herself down. Then she limped out of the shower, dried off, and pulled on clothes with a feeling of relief. She was stumbling to her cot when she saw a dark figure out of the corner of her eye.
Danielle tripped and hit the ground, gaze locked on the man sitting against the wall. She swallowed thickly, face to face with Bucky Barnes. Her gaze flicked to the camera in the upper corner of the room before going back to the man. "H-hi," she managed.
He didn't answer.
She sat up, folding her numb legs beneath herself. She began trying to rub feeling into her hands. "Do you know who I am?" she asked cautiously.
"You made my arm."
He voice was flat and even and lacked any semblance of emotion. Or even the Brooklyn accent Steve favored. Danielle licked her bloody lips. "Right. My name is Danielle."
He stared at her and she noticed for the first time that his blue eyes lacked the green specks that Steve had. "Danielle," he repeated obediently.
"And what do I call you?"
"Asset."
She frowned. "Yeah, I'm not going to call you that. Anything else? Do you ever get called anything else?"
Flatly, as if reciting rote memorization, he said, "The rumors call me the Winter Soldier."
"Winter Soldier," Danielle said, rolling the name across her tongue. "Alright. I can work with that." She held out a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Winter."
He stared down at her hand as if it had done something to personally offend him. Danielle tilted her head to the side and regarded him sadly for a moment, trying to match him to the pictures Steve had shown her. "Shake my hand," she directed gently.
At that, he lifted his hand and shook hers. She was expecting a strong grip, and that's what she got. But there was something fragile and careful about it. She smiled as he pulled back and returned his hands to his lap. A click at the door broke the moment and then it opened. A guard wordlessly stepped in, two trays in hand. He set them on the bed and left, door slamming behind him.
Danielle glanced at Bucky, but he was just watching her curiously. She struggled to her feet, knees still weak, and moved to lean against the bed. "Are you hungry?"
He watched her for a moment before offering a nod.
Danielle picked up both trays and limped back over to him. She sat in front of him, setting the trays on the floor. "Hmm, do you want the plastic chicken breast, gluey mashed potatoes, and ice cold peas or . . . the plastic chicken breast, gluey mashed potatoes, and ice cold peas? Oh, and look, we've got some water here too." She pushed a tray and one of the water bottles to him.
Danielle struggled through about half of her meal before her stomach began to ache from feeling too full. Wrinkling her nose, she set down her fork and looked up. She blinked. "Winter?"
He looked up at her.
She pointed at his tray. "Are you hungry?"
He nodded once.
"Okay. Eat."
It was as if some sort of hold over him had been broken, because then he snatched up the tray and practically devoured all the food on it. Danielle blinked and then pushed her tray towards him. With just a second to pause, he ate her unfinished food as well.
"Are you . . . staying in here?" she asked, taking the trays and stacking them against the wall. When he nodded, she considered him for a moment. "There's just the one cot." She got another nod. "You're gonna actually sleep, right?"
"If you need me to."
Danielle wrinkled her nose. "Well, the alternative is you staring at me all night. So yeah, I'd prefer if you slept. Though I'm . . . not really sure what time it is. So who knows when they'll turn out the lights. I'm not even sure if they turn them out at the same time every day." She looked down at her hands. They were still a little swollen and a little too pale and she frowned, returning to rubbing them again. "So why don't we talk and—"
Danielle froze. She took in a carefully measured breath and looked up at him. "Winter," she said, forcing the calmness. "What did they say when they put you in here?"
He looked at her blankly. "I was removed from cryo and informed that staying in here and interacting with you was my new mission."
She grit her teeth. "That son of a bitch," she muttered. Danielle scrambled up to her feet and limped over to the cot. She eyed him for a long moment before steeling herself. She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes.
And she didn't say another word.