It was pain Pierce had never known. Even at his age, he was familiar with joints and nerves not cooperating as they used to. But this was something else. Blinding, as though he could never see light again. Everything seemed freezing cold and burning hot at the same time.
Sounds escaped Pierce's lips that he had never thought he would utter. His whole body convulsed in pain. He heard himself crying out, begging for death. And throughout it all, a voice was speaking. It was her voice, of course.
All those years you watched others suffer, but unwilling to go through it yourself. Your existence is hypocrisy. I don't hate you, I'm simply delivering justice.
I am the Angel of death, and yours will be slow and excruciating. You will call out for your own end for hours before it comes. And when it does come, you will collapse gratefully into its embrace.
You disgust me. Your vileness and cruelness is being repaid in full. You have outstanding debts, Alexander Pierce. I'm here to make sure you pay them.
Then it stopped. Pierce didn't even get up from the concrete floor. Neither did he open his eyes. He let his ears gather the information.
The Winter Soldier had not moved. He hadn't been ordered to, and he did not want to invoke the wrath of the female intruder. She ran her hands through her thick brown hair, and surveyed the scene. Rumlow was barely stirring. The pain they had experienced was hers. Her emotional pain, transferred to physical pain. And it was so much worse.