There's a lot of changing perspectives between Sephyr and Bucky in this one. Let me know if it is too much!
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There was a designated meeting spot by the Rue Moliere that Sephyr was well acquainted with. The lack of body bags would make the trek from Venice to Nice a much easier endeavor. This was her first assassination where clean up was not required, seeing that it was only the Soldier's involvement that was evident in the aftermath. Her existence was unknown by the world outside of Hydra, only that there was a female killer who left no trace of herself or her victim's death. The Winter Soldier's executions were the opposite - leaving his signature of a violent death to instill fear in those yet alive. In fact, their joint mission did not require her presence. She suspected, however, that this was merely a trial run for what was yet to come.
The asset trailed behind her, no questions asked. Attentive observance and quick learning made working together easier for both of them, already understanding each others signals and behaviors. All Sephyr's previous human interactions, other than occasional outing and meals with the Baron, were directly work related. It was different to spend such a prolonged period in the presence of a single person, regardless of how unresponsive said human was at most times. Due to the lack of conversation, having company did not make the road less dull. Not that Sephyr cared. Casual conversation was something she had only done to get her victim's guards down, not to make friends.
The Soldier was always on edge. It was not just because of his vigilance, but an underlying frustration seeped through. Not directed at anything in particular, though perhaps that was because he couldn't remember the source of his bitterness. Sephyr wasn't even sure if he could recognize his own anger, for he likely did not recall a time of feeling anything otherwise. It wasn't like her to dwell on the feelings and pasts of others. But there wasn't much else to do.
The Soldier was finally asleep. She could tell, not just by the steadiness of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat but the lack of anger rolling off of him. She chalked it up to a new development of her abilities - being able to feel the emotional state of the other asset so distinctly, but it was yet to occur to the same extent with anyone else she was around. Perhaps, it was the amount of time she spent in his presence.
Her companion shifted in his sleep. Then she sensed a new emotion - fear. Images of war flooded his head, but it was not the usual engagements of the asset. No. This was a battle between two armies, and the enemy had the upper hand. The Soldier (or the man, as he was not yet the Soldier) wasn't garbed in his Hydra uniform. Rather, an American one. Immense pain exploded in his thigh where a bullet hit. "Bucky!" A man shouted. The scene changed to him being dragged out of a barred cell that was full of his fellow soldiers. It was cold, even though the sun was high. The camp smelt putrid, but he was desensitized to it. He was taken to a small room where he was locked down and hooked up with needles. He was already expecting it, it wasn't the first time. The man had no reaction to the pricks, but his heartbeat sped up in trepidation when the cold liquid began to seep into him. Then there was excruciating pain.
...
The Soldier bolted straight up in the bed panting. The name Bucky rang in his ears, the sounds of men falling and the feeling of pain, but not physical pain, as he was unable to stop them from dying. He remembered his visions but he didn't understand them. He was starting to control his thoughts more easily, to focus on ideas outside his mission. Perhaps it was because the mission was complete. He had no pressing orders other than to follow the direction of his partner - and the directions she gave were limited.
His partner. He turned to see her observing him with sharp eyes. She held his gaze unwaveringly. Her emotions were hidden. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, nor could he try to. The extend of his thinking had dissolved back into ingrained patterns of survival and obedience. He looked away, aware he had made eye contact for too long - an action that could be taken as defiance. He awaited punishment, but none came.
...
The journey was approximately 500 kilometers, a roughly 40 hour walk for the super-soldiers plus their one stop. She checked the usual meeting place even though she knew they were quite ahead of schedule. They would have to find a place to sleep for the night. She left the Soldier in an empty alleyway in search of more normal garb. She was already wearing an outfit that would be passable, but the more they blended in, the better.
When she returned he looked like he hadn't moved a centimeter, just standing behind a garbage bin staring blankly ahead. "Here," she shoved the garments at him. His eyes came into focus.
"What for?" He spoke for the first time that day.
"You need to put them on." Understanding clicked with him, and he began to undo his uniform. "Not in front of me," she stopped him quickly. "There's a spout around the corner there. Clean yourself up a bit and then hide your suit in this backpack." She wasn't very good at this - giving instruction that is. She was used to receiving tasks, and figuring out the details of accomplishing them and what to do in between time herself. The Soldier, however, appeared to lack any normal societal skills or knowledge, such as a sense of privacy, or obtaining food or necessities outside of stealing them.
She waited for him, having washed and changed herself elsewhere before acquiring them a room to stay in. The Soldier returned quickly. She got him dark wash jeans, a plain t-shirt, and a hoodie which he currently had up disrupting a clear view of his face. "We need to stick close to each other." She turned towards the main street and felt him come beside her, falling a half step behind. His presence somehow did not bother her. Somehow, she felt more secure.
...
Hydra's most feared asset took in the sights, new people, new colors, new smells like a child at a candy store. Not new. He was just relearning them. And not quite like a child at the candy store - much more wary, much less enthusiastic. The Soldier felt aware of himself, aware of his surroundings. His partner stopped to acquire them food. The cashier eyed him curiously but looked away when she was met with a hard stare. They walked past different shops. It was a downtown, with two story buildings sectioned off into various store and restaurants.
It was well past dusk when they turned down a dimly lit street. A building with dark windows and a crooked sign appeared ahead - MOTEL. Two girls stood out in front with indecent attire, if you could say they had attire at all. One toppled on her high heels towards the soldier, she let out a giggle and pressed her chest forward into him, drawing his eyes to her exposed breasts. His first thought was that she looked malnourished, but his body reacted in a way he was not used to. He continued walking behind his partner, but his hands twitched, torn between touching the prostitute and shoving her away. Luckily, she didn't try to walk with him and let him go as he entered the building so he didn't have to decide.
...
Sephyr could feel the Soldier's confusion and arousal as she led him to the second floor where their room was. It didn't subside, as images of kissing and touching seemed to continue flashing through his mind as he tried to make sense of what he was feeling. His visions weren't quite tangible, perhaps they weren't memories but just pieces of his imagination. But some appeared to be memories. Soft brown curls. Full red lips. The curves of a woman's body. Smooth skin. Breathy sighs.
"Which bed do you prefer?" She could see him push his thoughts aside, finally trying to gain control of his senses. He looked at her, then looked away quickly. He shifted uncomfortably. He was always uncomfortable, but this was different. Shame. That's what she could sense. And frustration of another sort.
The Soldier - no, not the Soldier for once - the man noticed his partner's awaiting gaze. "Pardon?" He responded, his voice thick.
"I asked you which bed you would prefer to sleep in," Sephyr responded evenly.
He looked around the room. It was small, but it fit two twin sized beds and a small table between the two. There was about four feet between the two beds and another four feet between the foot of the bed and the wall. The dull pink wallpaper was peeling, and the blankets were a faded red. However old, the warmer colors made it look homely.
"I'll take the far one," he finally responded. A choice. He made a choice. Of course, it was calculated based on a clearer vision of the doorway, a closer escape route, but it was his choice nonetheless - not the Soldier's, his. It was the first time he differentiated between the two. But they weren't different, were they? He was the Soldier. And it was the first time he was making use of his awareness. He became aware that his partner wasn't your average Hydra supervisor. Sephyr, he recalled her name was. He never thought of a person with their name, or who the person was. The Soldier always thought of what his role was towards them, it... it didn't matter who they were. But this time, his partner wasn't just a Hydra agent. She was a person. And she didn't just see him as a thing either, he realized. An asset, yes. But a human asset. A person. He didn't know if he had yet thought of himself as human, or thought of himself at all really. He was fully human... right? Sephyr could sense the shift in him too. He was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by his newfound thinking.
They both moved onto their respective beds, removing their shoes, and lying down beneath the covers. But the Soldier refused to relax. His thoughts were shifting rapidly. Who was he. Soft brown hair. Who was his partner. Breast pushed against his bare skin. What would be their next mission. He was uptight again. Frustrated - both mentally and sexually.
Sephyr wondered if she could help him relax. It would help him sleep and therefore focus more clearly for their next mission, she reasoned. That's the only reason she wanted to help him. It was better for both of them. She had never done this before. Well, no. She did this often, projecting feelings of ease, thoughts of attraction onto her victims. But she hadn't done this outside a mission. And she couldn't control his thoughts. Just nudge him towards the correct ones.
Sephyr feigned sleep. Her breathing evened out, her heartbeat slowed. It would be hard to fool the Soldier, but she hoped his needs would become too pressing to concentrate on her well.