So...here's this.
DarylDixon'sLover: I can't make any promises. And I know, honey, Civil War killed me too.
Onesinglebird: They'll heal eventually. Eventually. As for something bad happened...well, they don't call me evil for nothing.
Cassouminette: He kinda was a douche, but a hot one at that. They've both got a long way to go.
Tiphanie: Hold on tight, because everything's going to come falling apart soon. Sooner than you think. Hold on to that warmth too. You'll need it.
RosiePosie15: I wanted it to be as realistic as possible. So they're going to suffer more before they finally get together.
NadzKers12: Yeah, hold on to the fluff while you can. Because I'm evil.
Enjoy!
Summer was over and winter was quickly approaching. James and I had grown closer, more comfortable with each other. He still wouldn't tell me what he remembered, or about his nightmares, but I knew it wasn't any of my business. Some people could manage without talking through things. I was beginning to believe James was one of those people. I started working part time at the little bookstore I'd gotten the history book from. I went in there so much, the owner offered me a job. I started picking up some basic Romanian along the way as well. I did a lot of sorting, organizing, cleaning. It was good for me, getting out of the apartment, and bringing in a small amount of money to add to James' seemingly endless amount. I didn't question that either.
We'd also started sharing the bed. After the incident with the nightmare, he'd refused to let me sleep on the couch, so we'd compromised. He slept in the sleeping bag and I used the blanket. He'd fixed the radiator in case things got too cold, but I knew that wouldn't be a problem. He was like a space heater. I usually woke up sweating he was so warm. Either that, or I'd had a nightmare. I still got them, but they were becoming fewer and fewer. James still got them as well, and they came with a vengeance. I'd learned the signs, my subconscious recognizing them, so I could either wake him up, or get out of his way. I'd gotten one too many bruises from his metal arm. I never told him, knowing that would set him back. And that was the last thing we needed.
I was the one having the nightmare that night. Well, it was quickly turning into one. I was tied to a chair, James tied across from me. There was a man standing behind me, and I only knew that because he was speaking. He was reciting words in a different language...Russian I think. James was screaming, trying to break from his restraints, but nothing was working. The man finished, and James went still, his face blank. The man said something, and the restraints on James were taken off and he stood. He looked at me, his eyes empty as he grabbed me around the neck with his metal hand, choking the life out of me slowly. And the worst part was that he wouldn't even look at me.
I jerked awake when a hand closed over my mouth, fingers digging into my cheek. A metal arm wrapped around my body, keeping my arms pinned to my sides as I struggled. Tears were pouring out of my eyes as warm breath hit my ear.
"Don't finish that." Was whispered in my ear harshly.
I went still, sobbing as I felt the body behind me shift, the memory of Rumlow and I in this position coming back, making me panic. My head was moved back, James' face inches from mine.
"Are you going to continue?" He asked and I was confused. Continue what?
I shook my head, not quite sure entirely what he meant. My answer seemed to satisfy him and he released my mouth. My heart was still pounding, my breathing shaky. He released me and I shot off the bed, backing myself against the couch as I wrapped my arms around myself, shaking. My eyes didn't leave James as he sat up, his eyes watching me as well.
"I thought you said you didn't know those words." He said, his face set.
"What words?"
"The ones you were saying."
"W-I wasn't...I was..."
He sighed, staring down at his lap. "You were talking in your sleep."
I was silent as I stared down at my sock covered feet. The air was nippy outside the blankets. "What do those words mean?" His head snapped back to me. "I was dreaming. We were tied up in a room, and there was a man speaking in Russian. Reciting words, and you were trying to get out, but you couldn't. When he finished, you were...blank. You started choking me." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "And then I woke up."
"They're codewords. When I was in Siberia, under HYDRA they used them to reset my training. Wipe me, and start over."
"I don't know how I know them." I breathed, still looking at my feet.
"The hospital." Was all James said. He pulled a file out from under the mattress, sliding it towards me.
I took it with shaky hands, opening it up. Inside was a medical report. Mine. They'd fixed my eyesight, stitched me back together...inside, where I'd been torn. My heart nearly stopped when I read the next item on the list. My chest got tight, and I was shaking. I flipped the paper up, trying to read the one underneath, but it was in Russian.
"They read the words to you every night. They drugged you so you'd sleep, and they read them to you then. They did it in surgery, every time you were unconscious. They're always a step ahead." He shook his head.
I traced my fingers over the words on the front page one more time, tears filling my eyes. I looked away, closing the file, sliding it back on the mattress. James took it, sliding it back into its spot.
"How long..." My voice cracked and I couldn't finish the sentence.
"I didn't read it until we got here."
I tangled my fingers in my hair, leaning my elbows on my knees as sobs wracked my body. I felt like screaming, crying, throwing things. James didn't move as I cried, giving me space I didn't know I wanted.
James sat there, watching her cry. He felt bad, knowing what was in that file. What HYDRA had done. It made him sick. He had half a mind not to show her. She seemed so happy, but she deserved to know. And when he'd been startled from his sleep, hearing her muttering those words, he knew his chance was coming. He didn't mean to wake her up like he did, but he didn't have time to think up another plan. He could feel her panic, but he had to make sure she wasn't going to keep reciting them when he let her go.
He hadn't meant to be so mean either, but he needed answers. And when she said she didn't know, telling him about her dream, he knew he had his chance. The part of the dream where he'd been choking her made his insides turn a little, but he knew if he reverted back, that's what would happen. Slow, painful death.
He'd pulled the file from under the mattress, preparing himself for what he knew was coming. He told her the part in Russian, knowing she couldn't read that much. He felt bad for the way he'd treated her in the woods, knowing it wasn't her fault. He felt bad about a lot of things. But he felt even worse when he saw the hurt on her face, the pain as she tangled her hands in her hair, breaking down.
He wasn't sure whether to comfort her, or to stay where he was. He figured the latter would be best, not knowing what she'd do if he touched her at this point. She'd made such great progress, more than he had, but at this point...he wasn't sure.