Part 5
When the sun broke over the horizon (and peeked in through her drawn shades), Liesl woke. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her door was cracked open—meaning someone didn't want her locked in—and to find a German newspaper outside her door. She changed into a pair of sweatpants and an old Stark Industries t-shirt she found in a dresser drawer and wandered upstairs towards the common area, carefully trying to memorize the layout of the tower.
Coffee was initially on her mind—did they still make coffee in 2016?—but her interest waned when she saw Natasha reading at the dinner table. Her hair was pulled back tightly into a bun, and she wore tight compression pants and a dirty t-shirt.
"Guten Morgen," Natasha said, not looking up from her reading. "You're up early. How'd you sleep?"
"Okay," Liesl said carefully. Her eyes scanned the contents of the pages, and she saw her name printed on a large manila folder: ANNELISE WEBER. "A little… ah… restless."
Natasha glanced up long enough to see Liesl's eyes resting on her file. She pushed the documents towards the girl. "I pulled them out for you last night. I have to warn you though," she said, "It's weird to read about yourself."
Liesl smirked uncomfortably, though she was anxious to thumb through her past life. When she opened the folder, she saw an old file with hastily scrawled handwriting and a decaying photo of herself. Or: what was herself. She no longer needed the thick glasses, and her curly hair was tamed into something a little straighter. Her right shoulder was metal, and she felt stronger than she looked in the photo. 1940s Liesl didn't smile back at her; she rubbed her thumb against the old ink, her heart pounding uncomfortably.
The main file held all of her information: birth date, hair color, eye color, height, weight, known aliases, associations… When she flipped the page, the HYDRA symbol stared menacingly back at her, accompanied by notes about her role in the Siberian facility as a scientist. She had hoped the wheels in her brain would start turning, that she could remember something, but all of the details—about her father, the brainwashing contraption she built, the Winter Soldier project—seemed like planted memories.
As she delved into the details, sipping on a coffee that Natasha kindly brought her, the combination of her sudden consciousness and her lack of memory was making her feel very sick. There were fewer details about her life post-1945, with some sources stating that she worked alongside the infamous Winter Soldier, but nothing to confirm. That is, until the Avengers found her in the defunct Siberian HYDRA facility.
"You're going to have to ask Barnes about that," Natasha said, tapping the page with a photo of Bucky in a mask, holding a gun. "You two were elusive even to the best spies SHIELD had."
Liesl placed her file down. "I don't remember any of this. Maybe some… snippets… but…"
The feeling of not knowing overwhelmed her. She could feel her throat tightening and her ears ringing when Bucky said, "I know what that's like."
Natasha and Liesl both saw Bucky wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a ball cap hiding his long hair. Butterflies fluttered uncomfortably in her chest, which only frustrated her further. She hated that her body could react, but not her mind.
"Not knowing, I mean," Bucky clarified.
Liesl smiled awkwardly at him. "I see."
Bucky shifted awkwardly on his heels before strolling into the kitchen. Natasha took advantage of her brief distraction and swapped the files. This time, JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES stared up at her.
"Werde ich Eier machen?" Bucky called from the kitchen.
"Ja," Natasha answered. "Sounds good."
Liesl opened the first page of Bucky's file. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a fading photo of Bucky in his army uniform. Her heart jumped into her throat; she immediately recognized his face—specifically, that photo.
"I knew him," she aloud, mostly to herself.
Natasha smirked. "I'd say so."
Liesl didn't want to let go to this sensation. She pulled the photo out from underneath the paperclip securing it in place and brought it closer to her face, inspecting it. She had an odd sensation of déjà vu taunting her.
"He was the Winter Soldier?" Liesl asked. Natasha nodded, flipping a page in another file. "But he was someone else. He was… my Soldat."
Bucky poked his head around the corner of the kitchen. "Hmm?"
His quick response startled her. "Oh, uh, nothing. Talking to myself."
Then he nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen.
Over the next few days, Liesl learned the rhythm of Stark Tower. Natasha, herself, and Bucky were members of the Early Risers Club, often congregating at the table for coffee, breakfast, and quiet reading. Steve liked to be up early too, but he preferred not to be disturbed while he worked out (and then came into the living room a sweaty mess before he chugged three bottles of Gatorade). Tony stirred late and went to bed even later, popping in and out of the common room as needed; he seemed to keep a close eye on Liesl, as if she might attack at any given moment. Wanda and Vision, too, kept to themselves. During the day, they'd train with Natasha and Steve, but for the most part, everyone had their separate lives—they just lived them together.
While others worked out or went on missions, Liesl spent the better parts of her days reading—any kind of book really—to catch up on history and culture. Her favorite spot was in the loft above the common area. She liked to nestle into a big, squishy arm chair with the soft, fleece blanket Bucky had given her that first night and a book facing a glass wall of windows. She often told time by the sun's position in the sky—or by the grumbling of her stomach.
Because she could not physically digest books, Bucky brought her meals when he wasn't away from the tower. His face would sport extra cuts, or his hands would be red, but he never complained nor answered questions about his work. Liesl wondered if this was a direct order from Tony; or if he was doing it to keep her safe and happy.
Still, they'd eat together in near silence, watching the sun skip across the sky. Their relationship was peaceful and comforting. Liesl tried to ignore the way her heart leapt with joy every time he approached, but part of her wondered if she genuinely couldn't help it—was she programmed to like him?
Either way, all she knew was that the tower was desperately lonely without Bucky by her side.
Everyone in Stark Tower seemed anxiously certain that time would recover Liesl's memories. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be the case.
"At least your English has gotten better," Steve teased when Liesl admitted that she didn't remember much beyond her last Great Awakening, as Natasha had been calling it.
She shrugged. "I suppose there's that. I wish I could be more of an asset to you, that's all."
"Rehabilitate and release," Vision said. "Isn't that better? You could go home."
"I doubt I'd recognize Berlin," she admitted. "It's been so long."
"I felt the same way about Brooklyn," Steve agreed. "It's really something when you miss 70 years of your life."
"I don't know where I'd begin or what I'd do. I've never had the ability to choose before," Liesl said.
"Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you want," Wanda said soothingly, sensing Liesl's oncoming panic attack.
"As long as you're not a threat," Tony added, his voice echoing from the kitchen.
The room collectively rolled their eyes. Liesl stifled a giggle beneath her palm.
"I wish there was a way to shut him up," Bucky said. "Prove that Liesl's not a threat."
"Well…" Wanda began. When the others turned to her, they seemed to light up in agreement—with what, Liesl wasn't sure.
"Yes?" she prompted.
"Wanda has the power to look into others' minds," Natasha explained. "If you'd let her, she could see you—the real you."
"All of you," Steve said warningly.
"Maybe a few memories, too?" Wanda shrugged. "I'm interested, yes. How does it work?"
"All I need to do is touch you," Wanda wiggled her fingers. "But it is rather… intense…"
Liesl was so desperate for answers in her blank, boring life that she didn't consider the full impact of the word intense.
"Let's do it."
Liesl invited Natasha, Steve, and Bucky to observe her session with Wanda—more for the company than anything, as the moments to Wanda's touch grew closer, she became more nervous. Steve and Bucky opted out of watching; Natasha, though, sat next to her, quietly observing as Wanda wrung her hands together.
"I'll know how you are in a second," Wanda said. "But if you'd like, I can try to dig deeper…"
"Yes," Liesl nodded. "Please."
Wanda nodded. "Okay, Liesl… take a deep breath…"
Liesl obeyed. She felt Wanda's cold hand on her clothed arm for a second before the girl pulled away. The sensation was quick like a spark; Liesl would have never known what Wanda was doing if she didn't say anything.
"Well?" Natasha prompted.
Wanda smiled kindly. "She is of no threat to us. I see mostly confusion, a desire to find your place."
"No kidding," Liesl quipped.
"Even when you were with HYDRA, you didn't want to be," Wanda continued. "Your past has a lot of pain."
"I imagine most of ours do," she said. Natasha watched her with a careful eye as she spoke. "I did my best. I think."
"Not always," Wanda conceded.
Liesl's positive mood dampened almost instantly. The feeling of disappointment was, unfortunately, familiar.
Wanda rubbed her fingers together, and said, "Close your eyes."
Liesl did. She felt Wanda's cool touch, and then her mind's eye blurred…
Liesl landed in a small town. She raised her arm to touch her face, and found her old pair of glasses and thick, tangled hair covered by a wide-brimmed hat. The sun was shining warmly, but she was comfortable in a cotton dress. The world around her seemed to be moving—it wasn't entirely stable. And yet, it felt so real.
She took a few steps forward as the town settled into view. She knew this place. But where was it? A passerby on a bike greeted her warmly in German, and another in French; Froelich. She had vacationed here when she was a child.
She was warmed by the friendly faces surrounding her. She continued to take steps as the haze settled into rustic homes and gardens. Ahead of her, she saw a man in an American military uniform holding a dozen tulips.
"Soldat," she said with a hitch in her voice. Her heart fluttered rhythmically in her chest; she couldn't help but smile. "You made it."
Bucky, with his hair slicked back as it was when they met in 1944, face healthy and smiling, handed her the flowers.
"Of course," he said coolly. "We agreed to meet here."
Liesl didn't remember that detail. But she still grinned and smelled the flowers. They were sweet and beautiful.
"Thank you," she said warmly.
Bucky bent forward and kissed her, his lips warm. Liesl's heart quickened.
When they parted, she watched the flowers in her hand melt into acid. She screamed at her skin sizzled, though she felt no pain, leaving only bones.
"HYDRA," Bucky sneered. He touched her hands, and her bones disintegrated into dust. "You're no hero."
Bile climbed up her throat. "Wait!" she yelled as Bucky turned away. "I didn't… I'm not…"
She blinked, and her father and Zola were standing in front of her. Zola offered her a gun.
"Do it," he egged menacingly. "Pull the trigger."
"Now, Annelise!" her father barked.
Liesl raised her trembling her, pressing the barrel of the gun against her temple.
"I deserve it," she said, then closed her eyes.
The sound of the shot rang out, but instead of blackness, she opened her eyes to see Wanda and Natasha standing above her. Natasha wiped the wetness off of her cheeks with her hand. Liesl took a few deep breaths, trying to steady her suddenly rapid breathing. Intellectually, she knew what she just saw wasn't real, but then again…
"You are safe now," Wanda said soothingly. "We will keep you safe."