Chapter 2

I could say it, but you won't believe me,
you say you do, but you don't deceive me

-Dead Hearts by Stars

Warnings for sexual assault, violence, references to torture, and liverwurst

Wanda walked quietly through the broken remains of her neighborhood. The rubble filled streets were empty and quiet. It was a ghost town. She stopped before the pieces of what used to be her favorite fountain, remembering the last time her father took her and Pietro here. They had gotten ice cream. Pietro knocked hers into the fountain by accident. She had cried, but her brother had immediately given her the rest of his. Their father had beamed and bought them both a poppy seed shushki.

She missed her father, of course. The loss of her parents was like a hole in her chest. But losing Pietro, it was like losing half of herself. He had been her first friend, her best friend. Before they had even received their powers from the Scepter, their connection was almost supernatural. He seemed to know what she was thinking at odd times. She clearly heard him calling for help when he had fallen from a tree, even though he was much too far away for his cries to reach her. When they were living on the street before Hydra, they seemed to survive close calls more often than the other children there. How many times had Pietro found her when she was cornered? How many times had she found him when he was caught stealing food? They had saved each other over and over again.

A hot tear slid down her face as she stared at the broken fountain. Her mother used to say "Po každej búrke príde slnko [After every storm comes the sun]," but the storm just kept getting darker.

A sudden awareness chilled her, raising the hair on the back of her neck. Wanda looked up from her memories to see a man standing across the fountain from her.

Fear crashed over her, and she immediately scrambled backwards.

"Neublížim ti. Som priateľ, Wanda. [I will not hurt you. I am a friend, Wanda.]" He said quickly in Slovak, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace.

The sun glinted on his metal arm, and a memory tickled the back of her mind. She paused, staring at him.

"Pamätas si ma? [Do you remember me?]" He asked.

Wanda studied him, taking in his long hair, steel blue eyes, and the metal arm. She knew him. Somehow-

"Bojovali sme spolu na letisku v Nemecku. [We fought together at the airport in Germany.]" He said. "Som Steve priateľ. [I'm Steve's friend.]"

She remembered now. The airport. She had fought Tony and Natasha and...and Vision. Pain lanced through her chest and she clutched her heart, gasping. The man with the metal arm took several steps towards her, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Si v poriadku? [Are you ok?]" He asked.

"Áno, som v pohode. [Yes, I am fine.]" She lied, hoping he wouldn't hear the tremor in her voice.

The man with the metal arm cautiously approached her, stopping an arm's length away. They studied each other quietly as Wanda forced every single memory of Vision somewhere deep inside her mind where they didn't hurt anymore.

"Čo je toto miesto? [What is this place?]" He finally asked.

"Toto je ... bol môj domov. [This is...was my home]" She tilted her head, suddenly realizing something. "Nepamätám si tvoje meno. [I don't remember your name.]"

He grimaced slightly and the silence stretched between them.

"Neviem svoje meno. [I don't know my name.]" He finally said in a low voice. "Nazvali ma zimným vojakom. Steve hovorí, že sa volám Bucky. Múzeum ma volalo James Buchanan Barnes. [They called me the Winter Soldier. Steve says my name is Bucky. The museum called me James Buchanan Barnes.]"

Wanda felt her brittle heart constrict at the pain and confusion on his face. "Čo by ste chceli, aby som vám zavolal? [What would you like me to call you?]"

He stared at her, surprise flashing across his face.

No one has ever asked him that. Wanda realized.

"Možno mi zavolaj James. [Maybe call me James.]" He finally said.

At some point she began walking again with James following at her side. They reached the edge of town and watched as the sun set slowly behind the hills.

"Mali by sme nájsť úkryt. [We should find shelter.] " James said when the sun was almost gone. "Čoskoro bude tma. [It'll be dark soon.] "

Wanda blinked at him in surprise. Shelter. Of course. Why hadn't she thought of that? She nodded dumbly when he glanced at her, and followed as he led the way back into town.

Most of the houses were either partially or completely destroyed from the bombs. Wanda watched him shoulder through a few doors before he found one he liked. When she followed him inside, she found it was much nicer than her old family home. Every room had plush rugs over the cold wooden floor. Art hung on the walls. There was a bookshelf that ran from the floor to the ceiling that was full of books. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, but the home was remarkably unharmed.

Wanda wandered into the kitchen. It was painted a bright and cheerful yellow. She rummaged through the cabinets and the fridge that was somehow still working, finding some canned bean soup and liverwurst and slightly stale caraway rye bread. She dumped the soup into a pot and fired up the stove. She found an almost full bottle of Becherovka in the fridge and poured herself a small štamprlík, tossing it back before she began putting the liverwurst bložené chlebíčky, open-faced sandwiches, together. The sweet flavors of cinnamon and honey and ginger warmed her soul and the bitter burn of alcohol warmed her stomach. She was just finishing the sandwiches when she realized James was standing in the doorway watching her.

She couldn't quite hide the way her body flinched away from him in surprise. Nervously she tried to pretend she hadn't, gesturing towards the fridge with the knife she was using to spread the liverwurst.

"There's Becherovka in the fridge if you want some." She said, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.

"Are we speaking in English now?" James asked, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

Wanda hesitated, surprised at how naturally the words had flowed from her mouth.

"I suppose we are." She finally said thoughtfully. "I hope you like liverwurst."

James stepped into the kitchen, keeping his movements slow and unthreatening, and began to stir the bubbling soup on the stove.

"I don't know if I do." He said quietly. "I suppose I'll find out."

Wanda put the sandwiches on two plates and moved to wipe the dust off the small kitchen table. Out of the corner of her eye she saw James ladle the soup into the bowls she'd placed near the stove. He placed the bowls on the table and she fetched two beers out of the fridge. They moved together easily as though making dinner together in this small kitchen was the most natural thing in the world.

Wanda, zobuď sa. [Wanda, wake up.] Pietro's voice echoed faintly in her head.

She frowned and shook her head slightly, banishing the voice from her thoughts. When she sat at the table she looked up to see James watching her closely. He smiled slightly when she caught him and raised his beer in her direction.

"Cheers." He said simply.

Wanda raised her beer as well. "Na zdraví."

They ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Their simple dinner was surprisingly delicious and made Wanda remember flashes of sitting in a much smaller kitchen with both of her parents bustling around, the radio playing quietly, and Pietro driving his wooden cars across the table.

"I guess I do like liverwurst." James said, bringing Wanda back to the present. His grey blue eyes were warm on her face. "Thanks for dinner."

"It was no problem." Wanda replied quietly, holding his gaze.

It was strange, wasn't it? She didn't know this man sitting across the table from her. She should be afraid, and yet, she wasn't. It must be because of Steve. Steve trusted James, and she trusted Steve. Wanda's brow furrowed slightly, something nagging at the back of her mind, like she'd forgotten something important.

A clock chimed somewhere in another room, startling her back from her thoughts. James was quietly holding her gaze, and she realized she'd been silently staring at him. Her face warmed, and she began to gather the dishes, but James interrupted.

"I'll clean up." He said, taking the dishes from her and turning towards the sink.

Wanda stood for a moment, watching him in surprised silence, before turning and wandering from the kitchen. She followed the stairs up to the second floor. There were two bedrooms, each with a full sized bed made up with cozy looking quilts. There was no dust upstairs. Wanda paused and ran her hand across a wooden dresser. There was no dust? She frowned in confusion, but pain lanced sharply behind her eyes. Wanda gasped, clutching her head in agony.

Niečo je zle. [Something is wrong.] Pietro's voice echoed faintly again. Musíte sa zobudiť. [You need to wake up.]

Wanda opened her eyes, and the pain was gone. Slightly shaken, she brushed her hair back behind her ears and headed back down the stairs. When she reached the main floor again, she stopped abruptly. The front door was wide open. A chill crept up her spine as she stared at the door and the dark street beyond. She strained to hear a sound, any sound, but there was only silence.

"James?" She whispered.

She began to back away from the door, intent on heading towards the kitchen, but suddenly she backed into a body. Arms encircled her tightly, and she screamed.

"Go ahead and scream. No one can hear you." The American voice whispered in her ear.

His hands drifted across her stomach, up to her chest. Wanda struggled against him, but his arms were like vices. Nausea rose in her throat as he cupped her breasts.

"Let's see what that pretty mouth can do." He murmured and she could feel his arousal against her lower back.

"Please." She hated how her voice shook, how small and helpless she sounded.

Then just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone, ripped away from her and hurled against the wall. Wanda tumbled to the ground and immediately scrambled away. In the darkness she saw a glint of metal and heard the sickening crunch of bone as the metal arm drove into the American's head over and over. Blood splattered on the wall, a dark stain against the white. Wanda's back hit the wall and she curled into herself, hands clasped over her ears until the Winter Soldier finally stopped pounding the man's head into the floor.

"Wanda?" He called hoarsely.

It was so dark. Wanda couldn't see his face. Just shadows that crept across the walls. She shuddered, clutching her knees to her chest as her breath came in painful gasps. She heard more than saw James shut the front door and pull the bolt closed with a thud.

"Wanda?" He called again.

She couldn't speak, couldn't do anything more than gasp in breaths as tears streamed down her face.

"Idem k tebe. [I'm walking to you.]" He said, his voice gentle. His shadow filled her vision and she flinched. "Som priamo pred vami. [I'm right in front of you.]"

He knelt down in front of her, not touching, but there.

"On je mŕtvy. [He's dead.]" He said in that same gentle voice. "Už ťa nemôže ublížiť. [He can't hurt you anymore.]"

"Vráti sa. [He'll be back.]" Wanda managed to gasp. "Vždy sa vracia. [He always returns.]"

"Potom ho znova zabijem. [Then I'll kill him again.]" James said, his voice deadly quiet.

They stayed like that for a long time. Wanda curled up on the floor and James sitting beside her without touching her. Slowly she began to breathe in tandem with him, her body uncurling from its frozen paralysis. Exhaustion crept over her mind, heavy and suffocating.

Wanda woke to find sunlight streaming into the room. She was laying on the floor with a quilt draped over her body. Despite the uncomfortable floor, she was deliciously warm. She lifted her head slightly to see James sitting against the wall, asleep. He was close enough for her to reach out and touch, but not so close that she felt trapped. She lay her head back down, but then the events of last night suddenly cut through her memory. She sat up with a gasp, her eyes going to where the blood had splattered against the wall. Beside her she registered James jerk awake, but she was staring at the place she knew the American's body had been last night. There was nothing there. No body. No blood. No sign of a fight.

"Did you move the body?" She whispered, fear sharpening her accent.

"No." James said quietly.

Wanda looked at him only to find James watching her closely again, brow slightly furrowed. He met her eyes, and for a moment they simply stared at each other.

Niečo je zle. [Something is wrong.]

Wanda pressed her palm to her temple where a sharp pain suddenly stabbed again.

"Are you ok?" She dimly heard James ask.

Musíte sa zobudiť. [You need to wake up.]

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Musíte sa zobudiť. [You need to wake up.]

A warm hand grasped her arm, and she jumped. Her eyes shot open to see James face, full of concern.

"Wanda." He was saying urgently. "What is it?"

"I…" Wanda's voice trailed off. Her eyes narrowed on James' face. Slowly she reached up and touched his jaw. He went still as a statue. She could feel the prickly stubble under her fingers. Carefully she trailed her fingers up his cheek to brush his hair back behind his ear. She wasn't sure if he was breathing, but she could see his pulse leaping in his neck. She dropped her hand down to touch his neck there, feeling his heartbeat racing under her fingers. He was warm, solid, real.

" You make me feel human again." His rough hands circled her face, lips crashing over hers. Warmth flooded her body, her hands moving up to tangle in his hair-

James caught her wrist in his metal hand, ripping her hand away from where it lingered on his neck and the vision disappeared. Wanda gasped, her heart beating erratically.

"I-I am sorry." She stammered in confusion, not even knowing what exactly she was apologizing for.

She met his gaze, but it was the Winter Soldier looking at her with cold eyes. Her breath caught in terror. In his metal grip, her wrist ached painfully.

"What was that?" He asked, his voice deadly quiet.

"I don't…I don't know." Wanda gasped, horrified that he had apparently also seen that flash of…of the two of them so intimately….

He released her wrist and took several steps back, running his hand through his hair. Wanda clutched her sore wrist to her chest and stared at him. When he met her gaze, he was James again.

"Are you alright?" He asked unsteadily. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. I'm fine. I'm sorry. I think-I think I will shower." Wanda stammered before turning and fleeing up the stairs.

Wanda stood in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale and drawn with dark circles beneath her eyes. Sometimes when she blinked, ugly bruises marred her skin, but when she looked closely at them, they would vanish. Once, an ugly burn encircled her neck like a horrifying necklace, but then it was gone.

She abruptly turned away from the mirror, turning on the water of the shower as hot as she could stand. When she climbed in her legs felt unsteady so she sat beneath the stream of water, pulling her knees up to her chest. The steam billowed gently around her and she closed her eyes. When she was a child she would sometimes sit in the shower and pretend the water was rain. Her breathing slowed as she focused on the sound of the water, the tension easing from her shoulders. She was safe here. She was safe.

She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, there was a sudden crash that jolted her awake. The curtains ripped open and she automatically scrambled away. A man loomed over her, light glinting off his monocle.

"Wanda, mein Kind. [Wanda, my child.] " Baron Strucker said in German, his voice full of almost fatherly disappointment. "Ich habe keine Wahl. [I have no choice.] "

"Du kannst das nicht machen! [You can't do this!] " She heard her own voice screaming. "Bitte tun Sie dies nicht! [Please don't do this!] "

Guards poured into the small room, yanking her off of a small metal hospital bed. She tried to fight them, full of a desperation unlike anything she'd ever felt before. They dragged her into the room where the chair waited. She screamed and fought as they strapped her down. The whine of the metal paddles powering up made her breath catch in terror.

"Bitte tun Sie dies nicht! [Please don't do this!] " She sobbed.

Wanda's vision filled with light and agonizing pain gripped her body as bolts of electricity crashed through her. She tried to scream, but there was blood in her mouth and white hot lightning in her veins-

"Wanda! Shit!"

Wanda opened her eyes and gasped in a breath. Her throat felt raw, as though she'd been screaming. She was laying in the bottom of the tub, soaking wet and naked, and James was leaning over the side reaching for her. His hands grasped her arms and pulled her upright.

"Are you hurt?" James was asking, a hint of desperation in his voice that hadn't been there before.

Wanda looked at him numbly. She didn't feel hurt. She didn't feel anything. James was grasping her face, turning her head and looking for an injury. Wanda's eyes drifted closed. She was so tired.

"Wanda, stay awake." James said sharply.

Wanda managed to crack her eyes open to see him wrapping a quilt around her naked body. As he lifted her out of the tub and carried her into one of the bedrooms, her eyes must have closed again because suddenly James was shaking her.

"Wanda, wake up!"

Wanda, zobuď sa. [Wanda, wake up.]

Wanda blinked slowly, James' face coming into focus again.

"Wanda, porozprávajte sa so mnou. [Wanda, talk to me.]" James was leaning over her, his non-metal hand on her cheek.

"Povedal, že nemá na výber. [He said he had no choice.]" She whispered hoarsely, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"SZO? [Who?]" James demanded.

Suddenly it was as though ice filled her veins. Her entire body began to shake, her teeth chattering so hard she almost bit her tongue.

"Je mi taká zima. [I'm so cold.]" She managed to get out jerkily.

James pulled away from her and she could hear him rummaging through the chest of drawers. Vaguely she felt him peel back the wet quilt and pull her upright enough to work a large shirt over her head. She managed to push her shaking arms through the sleeves and then he was pulling warm, dry blankets over her. She burrowed into the soft bed, trying to ease the shivers wracking her body. Her wet hair clung to her face. The bed shifted and she opened her eyes to see James sitting next to her. He was doing the same thing he'd done last night, not touching but near and watching her closely.

"Prosím, neopúšťaj. [Please don't leave.]" She whispered shakily.

"Nebudem. [I won't.]" He said quietly.

Wanda stared at him, tears still rolling down her face and slowly dampening the pillow beneath her head.

"Prečo plačeš? [Why are you crying?]" James asked almost softly.

"Neviem [I don't know]" She whispered brokenly. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and tried again. "Myslím, že mi niečo zobral. [I think he took something from me.]"

"Ross?" James' voice hardened with anger.

Wanda opened her eyes, startled. "No. Baron Strucker."

Emotion flashed through James' eyes like lightning. "Strucker?" He repeated sharply.

Wanda blinked. "Did you know him?"

A muscle worked in his jaw as though he were grinding his teeth. "Yes." He said shortly. Then after a moment of silence added, "when I was with Hydra."

Wanda's eyes widened, feeling terribly foolish. Of course. He had been a Hydra soldier. They both had.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. I forgot you were…"

Her voice trailed off, another realization dawning on her. He had been captured by Hydra. Captured . Did he know that she and Pietro had volunteered? That she had willingly joined the group that had tortured and abused him for almost a century?

Did you…" She hesitated anxiously. "Did you know I was with Hydra?"

"Steve said as much." He replied shortly.

She tried and failed to read his blank expression.

"They told us about you." She wasn't sure why she was telling him this, but the words tumbled out of her mouth. "They said you were their greatest achievement."

His face darkened, and her heart leapt into her throat. She should drop it, change the subject. But she had to know.

"Did we ever meet in Hydra?" She asked quickly before she lost her nerve.

His brow furrowed and he began to speak before stopping and rubbing at his forehead in a jerky, frustrated motion. She waited, holding her breath. Terrified, yet desperate for his answer.

"I don't remember." He finally said.

More tears slid down her face in the silence. She didn't know why those three words hurt so much. She didn't remember ever meeting him. And yet, there was something about him she couldn't explain. Something comforting, something safe.

How did you know they had taken your memories? She wanted to ask, but she was too afraid to force the words past her lips.

Instead, she closed her eyes.

Wanda, zobuď sa. [Wanda, wake up.]