The Soldier and the Doctor

by thesoldiermormont

Set before, during and after The Winter Soldier. HYDRA hires Mallory Smith, a doctor and daughter to a HYDRA agent, to tend to the wounds of their assassin between missions. Mallory quickly becomes intrigued with the mysterious Soldier and enthralled with the charms of STRIKE agent Brock Rumlow and is caught up in the midst of a decades old conspiracy to take control of the world.

17. Her Soldier

Long after the dialling tone had faded and she had locked the phone, Mallory clasped her hands to her chest and stared out of the window. She parted the lacy curtains of her parents' bedroom, her eyes darting anxiously up and down the ordinary suburban street. Her ears were pricked for the sound of Natasha's engine and her eyes glued to the sight of the black car that had pulled up on the sidewalk that day in the park. Hope swelled in her veins, of rescue, of a chance to redeem herself from all of the bad things she had done. The Winter Soldier, her poor Soldier was never far from her thoughts. She longed to be near him, like a mother to a child but she knew for him to get better they would have to be apart for some time. They'd learn that he'd remembered her partly, and they'd wipe him again. Her mind tortured her with images of his agonizing memory wipe, forcing her to push it back and drown the thoughts with images of happiness. But come to think of it, most of her happy moments were spent with her father and Rumlow, which were moments tinged with sadness. Why was it that all the men in her life lied to her? Her mother couldn't of known about HYDRA because despite her seemingly sweet nature, she would be furious with her father. No more boyfriends or fathers, she decided gravely. I'm getting a dog.

Her father had came to pick her up from the bank. She'd tried to run from the armoured guard escort but they'd pulled her back. Literally, she kicked and screamed as they bundled her in the back of the car and when she'd seen her father she'd attempted to hurt him. She'd gotten a few choice kicks in but they'd restrained her, and she had felt the prick of the needle slide into her neck before it had coursed through her veins and sedated her to silence. She'd woken in her parents bedroom an hour later to the sound of her parents arguing fiercely. When Mallory had opened the door to them, her mother had yanked her into a hug and demanded to know why there was an armoured escort pulling away from the sidewalk. Her father hadn't told her anything, but dragged Mallory into the bedroom again to argue with her. Natasha had called moments ago, and Mallory felt safer knowing she was on her way.

She stepped back from the window and caught sight of herself in her parents large mirror mounted on the closet; a vision of pale skin, dirt and black clothes against the neutral theme of her parent's bedroom. Mallory stepped closer. Her hands roamed the usually smooth skin that was puckered with scratches and dirt. Her face and body was paler and frailer then usual, her eyes seeming to lose their colour and fade to black, her hair darker, wilder, greasier. Her eyes had lost all mascara and eyeliner she had been wearing, replaced with dirt and the red rimmed print of tears. She needed a shower. She needed sleep. Her stomach rumbled for food but her human emotions suppressed them, too sick with herself to eat food that would promptly be vomited across her parents pretty white bed spread. The door opened as she sat down on the bed, the springs moving with the pressure of her weight.

Her father stepped through the door, looking like a funeral director in his black suit. His eyes located Mallory and he smiled, the smile not quite reaching the corners of his mouth. Mallory turned her head slowly and glared at him. The smile faded and he stepped forwards.

"Is Laura okay?" His voice was littered with fatherly concern but he held his hand out, his intention clear. Mallory deepened her glare but surrendered the phone all the same.

"What did she want?"

Mallory didn't answer. Her father put the phone in his pocket and sat down on the springs next to her. Mallory cringed and felt the childish impulse to move away from him.

"Sweetie... you can't be mad at me forever."

Despite herself, Mallory's jaw opened with shock and she turned to face him. "Mad at you? I am fucking furious-"

Her father shook his head, reprimanding her. "Don't cuss."

The nerve of him. The Soldier within her that had so easily made it's way into her psychological makeup was egging her one, begging her to backhand him so hard she threw off his equilibrium and he wouldn't be able to walk without hearing bells ringing. The child within her wanted to scream and cry at him and ask him to stop being such an asshole.

"'Don't cuss?' Do you hear yourself?" She found herself springing up from the bed to a standing position, looking over her father from above to make herself seem bigger then she was. "This isn't something that can go away if you apologize enough, Dad!"

His mouth opened and closed as if he was shocked. Mallory continued regardless.

"This isn't something that can be easily fixed. You have lied to me, all my life about who are. You forced me into this-"

He held his hand up to stop her and despite herself, she did stop yelling. "Nobody forced you into the job, Mal."

"You knew I was desperate. You knew I would take anything going if it involved doing the work I love. And that job was so goddamn perfect I had to take it. So yeah, you kinda forced me. Pierce said you suggested me."" Mallory's glare hardened. "You had me take that poor man and make him fit for fieldwork which turned him into a killer!"

"The Soldier volunteered-"

Mallory laughed harshly, the shouting match resuming. "Oh, don't give me that bullshit! Pierce told me everything!"

Her father grew very silent. Unnervingly silent which pricked Mallory's curiousity to fall silent as well.

"Everything?" He asked, a little uncertain of himself. And Mallory suddenly became aware that there was still something they hadn't told her. She shouldn't of been surprised.

"Dad?"

"Pierce told you..." He seemed to have trouble getting the words out, swallowing hard and thickly. "... that he hadn't volunteered. Do you know who he is?"

Her father stood and Mallory backed away as if she was frightened he would hurt. It had seemed that the Soldier's former identity had been the least of his problems but now she wasn't so sure. If her father was so worried by Mallory knowing the truth about the Soldier's identity then that meant he was someone important. Someone she had maybe heard of perhaps? Or seen? Or known?

She tried to attach the face of the Soldier, in all of his bearded and long haired glory to a face she knew but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The Soldier was the Soldier and confusion flashed through her; what the hell was her father talking about?

"No."

Her father tugged at the collar that seemed to be causing him discomfort then he smiled, beginning to ramble. "Oh well that's good then. It's not like his identity is of any use to you."

When Mallory thought back to her childhood, there were some days that she felt like she had forgotten until the moment called for her to recall. This was such a time. It was a rare summer day in the sixth year of Mallory's life where her mother's social life and her father's holiday from work eclipsed each other, allowing the infant Mallory and the younger Sampson spend quality some time together. She remembered her father breaking the TV in their living room somehow and hiding its remains in their garage to be disposed of properly later. She also remembered her father hurriedly driving her to the nearest electrical store and purchasing a new TV that looked almost identical to their old one. Her father however had gotten Sony and Samsung mixed up and her mother was known in the inner circles of her knitting and debutante clubs to have the keenest eye for mistakes in all of the county. So when her mother arrived home and saw the TV, she demanded to know why a Samsung was sitting in the place of where her Sony was. And Mallory remembered, high and clear like a bell ringing on a church day, the exact tone her father had used to lie to her mother before he had confessed what had happened to their TV. The match that resumed, mainly because her father had lied, was one of the lighter arguments they'd had.

And that tone was the one he was using now. It had been his tell, his downfall in company poker games and ultimately the tool of manipulation between all members of his family.

"Liar."

He recoiled from her. "What?"

Mallory's voice was harder and low; almost like Natasha's normal speech patterns. "You are lying. I know when you're lying, Dad and you are lying right now. Tell me who he was."

Her father's lower lip wobbled with uncertainty, and he folded his arms. "It won't save him." It sounded like a threat.

"Tell him."

Her father had begun backing away from her as if she was going to hit him and Mallory followed him. He tugged at his collar multiple times and stumbled once or twice on their cream carpets.

"Sweetie, it won't make a difference. It doesn't matter-"

"If it doesn't matter than tell me."

Her father was so weak willed sometimes. He cracked with all of the bravo of an egg against a bowl. The man was a doormat, in constant fear of his employer and his colleagues but also his wife and seemingly meek daughter. Mallory was always told she took after her father but it seemed increasingly so she was taking after her mother, for her old tendencies to allow people to walk all over her constantly dissolving as the months passed, turning her into a strong willed woman she'd always aspired to be like.

"JAMES! His name is James."

The pair both stopped with their back and forwards dance. James. Now the face had a name. She pictured the human stare of the Soldier in her minds eye and nodded to herself. Yes, he looked like a James. But James what?

She quirked an eyebrow at him and her father surrendered easily, too easily. "James Buchanan Barnes. That's his name. He was a sergeant in the army."

Mallory frowned; the name meant nothing to her. Nothing at all. She'd never heard of a James Buchanan Barnes. Sure the name was reminiscent of an old president but that president had never been a sergeant in the army. Why had her father been so concerned about knowing his name? What did it mean? She cast her mind back hard and tried so desperately to think. It felt as if the fog of emotion was clouding her very human ability to think logically and clearly.

And then it hit her. The emotion cleared, giving way to an ice cold logic that splashed her brain wide awake and punctured a gasp out of her mouth that rattled her lungs. Like a ton of bricks over her head. Like coming up for air after being drowned. Like summer finally coming after a long winter. It felt like the universe had become a little less smaller and a lot more scarier. For a moment, the alignment of the planets no longer circled around the sun but around the Soldier and her. For one shining and one horrible moment the secrets of the universe were revealed to her. All the terror of the questions of the ages became as clear as the dawn breaking over the new pink sky. She knew everything but she also knew nothing. Mallory Smith, for one second, knew it all and it made her legs weak and her head spin and her stomach roil.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes. Her mind sent her back to the first time her father had regaled the tale of Captain America and his Howling Commandos. She remembered as clear as day the bones in her father's legs as she sat on his knee, and the feel of his hands that gently twisted and knotted her hair into odd plaits.

"They called him Bucky."

"Why?" Mallory had always been curious.

"To be honest, sweetie, I have no idea. But he was Captain America's best friend, much like Danni is yours. And he was the only Howling Commando to give his life to the service."

The Winter Soldier was Bucky. Bucky was the Winter Soldier. The man she had spent the last six months caring and fussing and begging and crying over was the war hero, Bucky Barnes. Captain America's best friend. That was why he looked like he'd seen a ghost. It felt like days ago she had watched them brawl on the bridge but it had been hours, as she'd ran from the debris and watched them fight each other. The mask had fallen and the Captain had been so startled at the sight of his old friend he'd allowed them to be captured.

Mallory was ready to vomit. Tears blurred the world around her to a neutral smudge on a canvas, and Mallory's legs caved, weakening her to the point of falling. She hit the bed however, her hand cupping her mouth.

"Oh my god." It seemed appropriate, as the knowledge bestowed upon her felt like a gift from the God she had never believed in. "Oh my god."

Bucky Barnes had fallen from that train. And the Winter Soldier had been revived in his place. Mallory couldn't breathe. She had wished long ago for inside knowledge on everything she was doing but she had never expected this. One could know too much. Bucky Barnes, a war veteran, supposed to have been dead for almost eighty years was alive and well as a brainwashed assassin used by the very force he had given his life to extinguish. The irony had made a complete circle and she was so fucking stupid.

Her father was talking but Mallory couldn't hear him. All she heard was the Soldier – Bucky, she had to call him Bucky – screaming in her mind, the tortured anguish of a man having his memory wiped and she could feel blood dripping over her hands like it had on the birth of Ariadne's baby boy.

That's why he had been dreaming so often of falling in the snow. It was a memory, a relic of the man he once was and the heartache he had experienced as he had died. According to Zola's theory, which she had just proved mere hours ago when the Soldier – Bucky! - had remembered her, his memories were still there. And Steve Rogers, if he said the right thing at the right time, could make him believe it.

She glared at her father with a sudden hatred. The man had once seemed so gentle, so loving, so caring yet he was admitting that he had lied to her on so many levels. He was her father biologically yet he had severed all trust she could ever have with him. The road to repairing something like this would be substantial and Mallory wasn't sure, after Liam and Rumlow, that she'd be able to trust anybody but herself and her mother.

And maybe once his memory had been jogged, Bucky Barnes.

Her father knelt to where she sat on his bed, taking her hands. "Sweetheart-"

She pulled them away from his grip. "Don't touch me."

This was worse then what Rumlow had done to her. Yes he had invaded her privacy, her body, her mind but he'd done that from the start; her father was her father yet he'd still lied to her. She didn't yell or scream or hit him. She couldn't see him, his form melding into an empty void of nothing.

He was talking again. Lying most likely. Mallory couldn't hear her heartbeat or her breathing or her mother clattering about nosily downstairs preparing a meal. All she could hear was the familiar thrum of Natasha's engine outside as she parked. Mallory stood and her father curtailed his speech. He watched her as she walked across the bedroom and parted the curtains to glance outside. The car was up the street, black like the one Natasha had driven and parked illegally on the sidewalk that day that felt like ages ago, and Mallory could see Natasha's recognizable shade of auburn swinging as she turned her head to scan the street. Mallory turned.

"Sweetie, what are you doing?"

They had come. They had come for her. Mallory curled her hand into a fist. She knew what she was doing to go to the good side was wrong but it seemed it was the only way. Was a bad action for a good cause justified? She didn't know. As she propelled her fist forwards like the Soldier had taught her, she knew she didn't care. This was her way of revenge. She had once again unleashed a mere fraction of the rage that she had blocked with a wall and the force behind the punch was staggering for such a small woman. Her father's jaw clicked horribly and as he had not been anticipating such a lethal knockout, he fell backwards making no noise as he landed on the bed.

Mallory clamped a hand over her jaw, unwilling to cry once again but her vision misting the black and white of her father's suit into colours that melted together. She truly was a HYDRA agent it seemed. But redemption was coming.

She walked over and couldn't resist her loving urge to brush back her father's hair from his face. Slack jawed and with no visible wound bar from a nosebleed, he looked like he could be sleeping.

"I don't forgive you." She murmured, her hands sliding through his clean smelling hair as she knelt to press her lips to his head. "And I never will. But I love you, dad and I always will."

She left the room shutting the door. A calmness over took her, reminding her of her night shifts in A & E when things began to get heavy. An eery calm akin to the serene silence before the tempest wages war on a city. Mallory went downstairs and found her mother switching the oven on.

"Mom."

Her mother cried with surprise and clutched her heart, making Mallory smiled. In a second, Mallory was pulled into her mothers arms.

"You had us so worried! Your father isn't telling me a thing about this stupid S.H.I.E.L.D business." Mallory stepped back and she watched her mother assess her over for any type of wounds and lick her finger, probing for dirt. "He said it's classified, Julie in that way of his ways and I said 'I don't give a damn if it's classified by the President himself. I'll take apart the entire agency with my bare hands if they hurt my girl'."

It was a feat Mallory would pay to see and she laughed, feeling calmer then she had in months. Gently, she removed her mother's hands from her face and clasped them, finding the smile that spread across her face came easily.

"I have to go back into the office. Dad said it's okay. I won't be back for a couple of days and you won't hear from me but I swear I'll be back. Okay?"

"Do you have to go? Surely someone else can sort it?"

Nobody can sort it out, she mused to herself as she forced herself to laugh. It's I, the Captain and Natasha Romanoff against an entire government agency and a special black ops assassin who used to be the Captain's best friend. Really, the situation was absurd.

"They want me there. I'll be fine. I promise." Her mother rolled her eyes and sighed, allowing her hands to drop in a way of telling her it was okay. "I love you."

Her mother repeated the sentiment. Mallory hated lying to her. Soon enough she would call her father down to dinner and when he wouldn't come, she'd go up to investigate and discover him still knocked out. Perhaps she'd call and ambulance. But her mother wasn't dumb, she'd know Mallory had done it and work out that her father refused to let her go. In turn, she would also discover that Mallory had lied to her. It was a price Mallory was willing to pay.

As she passed the coat rack, Mallory picked up what she assumed to be her father's black waterproof jacket. As she left the house and said a silent goodbye to the porch, Mallory rolled the sleeves up and crossed the street calmly towards the car. She opened the door and slid into the back, the leather seats comfortable and warm from the in car warmers.

"Did you get away okay?" Curiously, Natasha wasn't driving but in the passenger seat. She turned to face Mallory as she clasped her belt. Unable to form a coherent response, Mallory nodded.

Their hideout was a network of old tunnels just outside the city, brick entrance, unassuming. HYDRA could take years to search for them and they'd never find it, as the bricked up walls hid any type of ingoing and outgoing network signals and the walls too thick to allow any type of heat signatures escape. Natasha got out of the car first and Steve had opened the door for Mallory when she lingered a little.

"Thank you."

As the sunlight hit his hair, Mallory got the first proper in-the-flesh look at the Captain. There was a difference from seeing somebody in promotional posters or on TV then it was in real life. Posters could be photo-shopped, TV appearances edited to give certain impressions. But real life was exactly that and here Steve Rogers stood before her, a living breathing sculpture of patriotism. She knew from history lessons and trips to a museums that Rogers stood at six foot two but in the flesh he seemed even taller, and his 240lbs even bigger. His handsome features could not be denied; in the sun his hair was like fine strands of gold and styled carefully, his eyes bluer then the American flag, full lips and a pointed noise that reminded Mallory of an eagle's beak. As a single woman, Mallory found him attractive which was surprising considering she'd never been into blondes; all of her high school boyfriends had been brown haired, or in one case a ginger, Liam was a brunette and so was Rumlow. His physical intimidation could also not be denied; a huge man, with a shoulder to hip ratio that would make a wrestler feel insecure, the impression of a man of a who could beat you to a pulp without even breaking a sweat. But as he opened the car door for her, Mallory felt like even if she wasn't aware of his reputation, Rogers would not do such a thing.

"So." He said as Mallory scanned the rusted gate and decided the remaining S.H.I.E.L.D members were geniuses to pick this place. "You're HYDRA."

Mallory met his blue eyes and stared at him coolly, a trick she had learnt from spending so long with the Soldier. The Soldier. Guilt washed her. He knew the Soldier was Bucky but he didn't know Mallory's relationship with him. She'd tell him when they went inside; out here was no place for a conversation like that.

"Supposedly." Mallory turned to the slightly more friendlier looking Natasha. "This your base of operations?"

An amused smirk spread across the Widow's full lips. "For now. Shall we?"

Natasha led the way. Mallory unknowingly fell into step with the Captain who kept glancing over at her, unsure of her probably. Mallory had a feeling that because she had been HYDRA, Steve didn't trust her. She didn't blame him if she was honest. Mallory wouldn't trust herself if she was in his situation.

They entered a small room, where two black men and a white woman were sitting around a table. As Natasha led them through the opening, Mallory touched her arm.

"Did you get the wound patched up?"

Natasha turned and stopped walking to answer. "Yeah. We had some doctors on site. About the highway-"

"Don't worry about it. I don't blame you."

One of the men was the driver from the highway. The woman was in cargo pants and a black top with the STRIKE logo; she seemed to notice Mallory's shaking hands and smiled reassuringly. The other was Director Fury. Mallory's jaw dropped open.

"You're dead."

Fury smiled, looking amused and shared a glance with the woman who seemed both sympathetic and amused. "Nobody told me. I came back to life."

"The Soldier-" Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Steve stiffen. "-killed you. I was there when he left for that mission."

"He wounded me, Dr. Smith. And very good doctors brought me back to life. Your enemies can't kill you if you're already dead." She didn't ask how he knew her name. "Can we begin?" The woman turned to Fury and Fury nodded, gesturing for Mallory to take the free seat next to Natasha. The meeting had begun. There was a file on the table and Fury picked it up. Mallory spied a picture of Pierce on top, and when Fury pulled it out Mallory was imagining him being arrested to calm herself down. Fury stared at the picture for a while, before deciding on what he was going to say.

"This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize." Mallory allowed that to sink in; somebody actually offered it to him? "He said 'Peace was not an achievement, it was a responsibility."

He allowed the picture to fall from his hands to flutter onto the files and gave a pointed look to Natasha. "See it's stuff like this that gives me trust issues."

A corner of Natasha's mouth lifted in response and she said, "We have to stop the launch."

Mallory had felt like her presence was being humored her but she couldn't help herself but interrupt. "You mean Project INSIGHT? Pierce is adamant those Hellicarriers are getting in the air. Every HYDRA agent that isn't a tech is getting ready to launch."

Steve and the man she hadn't been introduced too shared a look and Fury spoke. "We were hoping you'd give us some inside information on HYDRA." The look in his eyes clearly stated he knew that was fruitless.

Mallory shrugged. "I was just a doctor. Nothing special. Looking after their top secret assassin but nothing more than that. I didn't know about INSIGHT till hours ago."

"You were in charge of Bucky?" Steve shouldered in, his eyes alight with interest. Mallory felt uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Yeah. I-"

"If we could… maybe talk about this later?" The woman in cargo pants said, her eyes pointedly glancing towards Fury, who was drumming his fingers on the table. Mallory and Steve nodded, and Fury sighed, moving on effortlessly.

"Anyway, I don't think the council's accepting my calls anymore." For the first time, Mallory noticed a briefcase sat beside him which he slid across the table and opened. Set into the foam encasing were three identical electronic chips.

The driver who had the wing pack vocalized her thoughts. "What's that?" He folded his arms and started forward.

The woman in cargo pants spoke, turning a laptop around to face the group as she explained. "Once the Hellicarriers reach three thousand feet, they'll triangulate with in-site satellites becoming fully weaponized." The laptop screen displayed what she was talking about and Mallory remembered what Pierce had told her about INSIGHT and it's aims; they would wipe out half the globe based on trouble pasts.

"We need to breach those carriers and replace those targeting blades with our own."

The woman spoke again. "One or two won't cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this work because if even one of those ships remains operational-" She folded her arms and sighed, "-a whole lot of people are gonna die."

"We have to assume everybody aboard those carriers is HYDRA." The tension in the group tightened just a little at the prospect of murdering and arresting all those onboard even if they were innocent. "We have to get past them and insert these server blades and maybe, just maybe we can salvage what's left-"

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by an angry Steve.

"We're not salvaging anything. We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we're taking down S.H.I.E.L.D."

Fury's bruised face tightened with confusion. "S.H.I.E.L.D had nothing to do with this." Mallory almost laughed. S.H.I.E.L.D had everything to do with this, as S.H.I.E.L.D was HYDRA now. The rest of the group remained silent.

Steve was getting angrier. "You gave me this mission. This is how it ends." He looked around impressively to accent his words. "S.H.I.E.L.D's been compromised, you said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed."

Fury looked to the rest of the group for some type of support then focused a hardening gaze on Steve. Mallory knew she wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of such a gaze. "Why do you think we're meeting in this cave?" His voice became harder and louder and tighter with pain. "I noticed."

Steve grew silent before speaking calmly. "How many paid the price before you did?"

The tension thickened and Mallory knew he was talking about. Guilt welled inside her and the image of the metal armed and cool eyed assassin wandered across her memory.

Fury's voice brought her back to the presence and he had the grace to sound ashamed. "Look, I didn't know about Barnes."

Steve didn't want to hear it.

"Even if you had, would've have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too?" It was clearly a hint to a previous conversation between the two. "S.H.I.E.L.D, HYDRA it all goes."

She agreed with him there. Cutting out the cancerous growth within S.H.I.E.L.D wouldn't be enough. Once word got out that S.H.I.E.L.D had once been the host to HYDRA the public would never trust them again. Something old must be destroyed before something new can take its place. It was a familiar saying and oddly, she remembered Pierce saying it when he'd been on the phone to somebody and she'd overheard him. The irony cut her like a knife.

The woman glanced at Fury with a softness in his eyes. "He's right." She nodded at him and it seemed she also agreed with Steve. Fury was clearly hiding the temptation to roll his eyes, and he swung his accusing gaze to Natasha. She didn't choose to say anything, merely sliding in her chair and it was obvious from her face where she stood on the subject. Fury's jaw tightened and he looked over to the unnamed and handsome driver from the highway.

"Hey don't look at me." He looked at Steve. "I do what he does, just slower."

Mallory smiled at him as Fury and Steve shared a look that made the decision for him. Fury laughed suddenly, softly and lent back in his chair. "Well. Looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain."

It seemed to be the end of the meeting. Steve turned and stalked out of the cave to go off on his own and Mallory took it as her chance. She waited until he seemed to be down the corridor for her to follow him, her heart fluttering nervously.

He acted like he wasn't aware of her presence as she trailed behind him but Mallory knew he knew she was there as when he passed through the gate to go outside, he left the door open for her. Mallory shut the rusted door and watched as the Captain slowly walked across the bridge that topped a dam of sorts. Mallory had no idea where they were but it was peaceful, the only noises being both of their brains ticking over and birds taking flight.

She stood next to him as he was lost in thought. "I was there, you know. On the bridge. When you saw him for the first time."

Steve didn't say anything. He just swallowed tightly and continued looking ahead.

"I don't blame you for not trusting me but I want you to know that I... I didn't have a clue who I was working for." He finally turned his head, aware her throat had cracked and she was fighting back tears for what felt like the millionth time today. "My dad and Pierce and Rumlow all told me that HYDRA was a sub-divison of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Didn't you know what HYDRA was, from the stories of… me and the Commandos in the war?" His voice was harsh and the lump in Mallory's throat got bigger.

"My dad told me those stories. He never said who the organization was. And if I was honest, I never really had that much interest in history." She looked out on the vast expanse of the forest. "If only I'd researched it..."

If she didn't say it now she never would. She took a deep breath and turned to him fully, feeling lightheaded and afraid. "I knew him, as the Soldier. I knew him well."

Steve stiffened, his entire body going rigid with understanding. His glare found her and it was harsh, lava rolling across her but she felt better now that she had gotten it out.

The story came tumbling. "His old doctor, Dr. Harriet was killed for becoming too active. I'd just been made redundant and my dad hired me. The job seemed perfect, looking after a dormant creature in a coffin that would only need to be woken every now and again."

Steve's mouth twitched. "And that didn't register as being completely unethical to you?"

Mallory defended herself. "You have to understand, Steve, they told me he had volunteered. They said he had volunteered long ago and he had agreed to memory wipes so that his past life wouldn't come into play."

Steve's fists tightened, "And none of that seemed suspicious?"

"I was stupid, I know." Mallory swallowed, and said, "I thought he'd be strong. And then I woke him for the first time and he was... so... pathetic. I felt sorry for him. I wondered why anybody would choose such a life. And then I-" She remembered the pizza, the prison, how he had briefly laughed at her and slept with her and saved her life. "- got to know him and he was, despite what he tried to come across as, so human. And he was my friend."

"Everyone I knew lied to me. They even got a HYDRA agent to become my boyfriend to make me one of them." He was unwilling to look at her. "The Soldier- Bucky was the only one who told me the truth. Well, his truth."

She broke off, remembering his howls of pain. As she shuddered and shook with sobs, sympathy painted Steve's face and he laid a hand on her shoulder without looking for her and squeezed tightly; the firm contact grounded her and halted the flow of tears as she regained some control.

"It's okay. I believe you." He murmured. Mallory couldn't speak, nodding with pain and wrapping her arms around herself as a sudden chill took the air. The pair stood together, and Mallory wanted to leave Steve in a brooding silence when the man she hadn't met approached them.

"You're Mallory?" He stepped forward and finally introduced himself. "I'm Sam. Sam Wilson."

His firm was grip as she shook it and she silently thanked him for not mentioning the state of her red eyes or her wet cheeks. "Mallory Smith. I saw you on the bridge with a wing-pack? Please tell me I wasn't hallucinating."

Sam smiled. He had a nice smile, mischevious. "Nope. That's my gear. The Captain's got his shield, Natasha her thighs and I've got my wings."

The trio smiled. Mallory felt herself invading on her private conversation and made to leave when Sam spoke. "He's gonna be there, you know."

Steve's voice was hard when he answered. "I know."

Mallory planted her feet in the ground and turned to eavesdrop so obviously but the pair were too wrapped up in each other to concentrate.

"Whoever he used to be... the guy he is now... I don't think he's the kind you save. He's the kind you stop."

No he isn't. He can be saved. But Sam didn't know that. Neither did Steve to be honest. They only saw what the Soldier projected when he was working, the cold hearted assassin who could kill you with a stroke. They hadn't seen his weakness in the prison. Despite his reluctance to be touched, Mallory was aware he did indeed crave contact. He was the one who had suggested sleeping together, who had held her tighter then she'd intended and Mallory hadn't – if she was being brutally honest which she decided she was going to be from now on – minded. In fact in hindsight she wished she had held him back. It had felt at the time like she was cheating on Rumlow and she had always known why. Her feelings for James, Bucky or whoever the hell he was confused her. Was this just a friendship which she was determined to salvage? Or was it something more? She remembered the tender moments in the prison as she brushed a lock of hair from his face and smiled in the dark. She remembered thinking about him at inappropriate moments, most notably when Rumlow was inside of her and groaning in the dark of her bedroom. At the time she had put it down to her nature to care for him but as she really thought about it, had he been in her thoughts because she had wanted him there? Had her subconscious fought against her and tried to show her what she wanted? She didn't know. She knew she cared for him but she didn't know in what way. Romance and friendship with anybody of the opposite sex, she had found, always had a way of coming back around to primal instincts and the mating rituals of old. All of her old boyfriends in high school had started out with an uneasy friendship.

"I don't know if I can do that." Steve brought her to the present and she almost cheered.

"He might not give you a choice." She tried not to hate what Sam was saying. "He doesn't know you."

Mallory couldn't help herself. "He could."

Both Steve and Sam whirled to her. "What?"

"I'm not an expert on brainwashing science but I read up on it when I worked for HYDRA." She explained, remembering the moment in the lab when he'd said her name and her fate was decided for her. "The electrical stimuli the patient receives during the treatment merely suppresses the hippocampus." Meeting Steve and Sam's confused looks she simplified it down. "Basically, the electric shocks he got during the treatment sort of drowned out the memory part of his brain."

"Meaning?" Steve asked.

Mallory bit her lip. "On it's own it doesn't mean anything. But, Zola, the man who invented the technology, theorized that the memories could be retrieved with the application of something that would conjure up an emotional attachment."

Sam folded his arms, seeming unconvinced. "All we got to work with is a theory?" Steve's face fell and Mallory felt glad when his eyes lit up at her next statement.

"It was until about three hours ago."

Steve advanced on her. "You recovered his memory? How?"

Mallory didn't want to remember his howls of pain, but she want to recall shoving Rumlow from her.

"They'd just wiped him and he asked who I was; I introduced myself as Dr. Smith. I was with Rumlow – my boyfriend at the time and I finally told him what I thought of him in front of the Soldier."
"You too argue a lot in front of him?" Sam said, smiling. Mallory grinned back, and bit her lip.

"No. It wasn't what was happening that triggered him, it was what I said. I called Rumlow a monster, something which I'd called the S- Bucky a while ago. He must've been affected by it, because he remembered who I was and he could recall some things we'd done together. I believe over time, he could remember everything."

Steve turned to Sam, who was looking back uncertainly. "You'd have to get close to him. Really close. Dangerously close. Steve, this is the only guy in the world who can match you on the field."

"I can try."

Sam was persistent. "It might not work. He might not remember you."

"He will." Steve turned away, the decision final in his eyes and posture. "Gear up! It's time."

So soon? Mallory and Sam exchanged looks.

"You gonna wear that?" Sam called mockingly, trying to make light of the situation. Yet Steve still stayed grim and he turned to them, continuing to walk across the bridge and into the forest.

"No. If you're gonna fight a war you gotta wear a uniform."

He disappeared beyond the tree line. Mallory and Sam were left in a silence and Mallory could feel the waves of tension.

"You don't agree with me telling him about that, do you?"

Sam shook his head. "No, I don't. Nothing against you it's just I don't wanna see him get hurt."

"Mentally or physically?" She knew the Soldier could match Steve move by move.

Sam quirked an eyebrow at her. "Both."

The two laughed at the absurdness of the situation and when they fell silent, Mallory composed her face. "He'll remember. He remembered me and he's only known me for six months. He's known Steve for what, years? Since childhood?"

He nodded then said. "Well, I hope you're right."

A/N: The one time out of a thousandth I've promised I publish date and it has been met! Summer is a wonderful thing