Avengers: Hunt for the Winter Soldier - Ch. 7
(After Steve learns that the Weapon X Project; which was successful in turning the X-Man known as Wolverine into Codename: Weapon X,
was also involved in the torture, re-conditioning, and brainwashing of Bucky Barnes into the Winter Soldier)
He lay on the bed with his eyes closed, listening to the ticking clock above his head. It was the only sound in the room other than their breathing. Every few minutes the Soldier opened his eyes and gazed at the ceiling. There wasn't a lot he could do. He contemplated how familiar his present position was: and how oddly comforting, even in a strange place. Being immobilized was nothing new to him, but usually he was standing up inside a large glass cylinder that turned ice cold just before he fell asleep.
He looked to his left at the bare white wall. There was nothing to even look at. No pictures on the walls or machines: except the ones behind his head. He looked to his right, at the closed door and then his gaze was drawn to the chair now at the foot of the bed. The American soldier was still sitting there; his arms were folded across his chest, his legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. His head was slowly falling forward as his eyes closed. The man kept trying to force his eyes to stay open, but it was obvious to the Soldier that he was exhausted. He listened for other sounds outside the door but heard nothing.
By tipping his head back he could just see the clock and make out that it read 1:12 and he had to assume that it was a.m. He turned to look at the American in the chair. He watched the blond man fall completely asleep in the chair and became aware that the ability to get to sleep on his own seemed non-existent. After many decades of being put to sleep via cryogenic stasis pods, the Soldier thought that perhaps he'd lost that ability; to enter a sleep state naturally.
Being awake all night while on a mission and needing to stay alert was one thing, being awake all night with nothing to focus on was something else. So he focused on the man in the room with him. 'Who was he? Why was he here?' he wondered. Why did he keep saying that they'd known each other their whole lives? Everything about the American pleading with him to remember disturbed the Soldier deep down inside. It felt as though something the man said had resonated with him but he couldn't grasp what it was.
When it became clear to him that the blond man was sound asleep, the Soldier decided to close his eyes and wondered if sleep would come to him. It didn't appear that the people who were keeping him captive were planning to harm him. They hadn't threatened him in any way since bringing him to this place. They spoke to him as if they were concerned with his comfort and treated him with a sense of dignity, as more than just a killing machine. What did they want with him? Was he to be used to forward this new group's agenda? They hadn't asked him for his mission report or attempted to debrief him in any way. What were they waiting for? He took a deep breath and let it out slowly then closed his eyes. Before he even had a chance to realize that he was just as exhausted as the man in the chair, the Soldier was asleep.
At 6 a.m Bruce entered the Soldier's room and paused when he saw Steve sleeping in the chair under the TV. He looked to the bed to see the Winter Soldier appeared to also be asleep. Banner glanced between the two men and then shrugged slightly before moving to the side of the bed. He checked the fluids to see the IV bag still had about twenty minutes until it was empty, so he hung a fresh one beside it.
Bruce looked down at the Soldier taking note of the bruises that were starting to show on his right arm and shoulder. There was also a bruise growing at the corner of his right eye, as well as marks under his left eye and above his left eyebrow.
Narrowing his eyes, Bruce leaned down and squinted through his glasses at the abrasions as they now stood out to him as having a very distinct shape. Unlike a wound that could occur during a fight or a fall, which would have blown out edges and be of varying shapes and sizes, these particular wounds looked to have been made mechanically; as if something had been attached to the Soldier's face and left these marks behind.
He couldn't think of any device that would mark a face like that so he gave a mental shrug and straightened. Bruce walked around the foot of the bed, being mindful to not trip over Steve's feet and went to check the vitals monitor. He pressed his finger to a blue spot on the screen which lowered the volume of the beeping sound it was emitting.
Bruce then visually inspected the bindings to be certain they were still intact, but didn't try to touch them. As he stood silently beside the bed, the sleeping man jolted and his eyes flew open. The sudden motion startled Dr. Banner and he took half a step back.
"Whoa, big guy," he said, with his hands up in an unthreatening manner.
The sound of his voice stirred Rogers who sat up and pulled his legs in under him. "Dr. Banner?" he said as he blinked away the sleep in his eyes.
"Morning, Steve," Bruce replied.
Steve stood up and slowly stretched stiff muscles. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yep," Bruce answered. "Our friend just woke up quite suddenly and startled me."
"Woke up suddenly?" Steve asked.
"Like… maybe he had a dream that jolted him awake… or maybe it was the sense of my movements beside him… not sure," Bruce explained as he looked at his patient who was staring back at him with an unnerving intensity. "No harm," he added.
Steve moved closer to the right side of the bed and the Soldier turned away from Banner to look at Steve. His gaze was hard and focused as he studied the tall blond standing over him.
"You okay?" Steve asked the Soldier.
The Soldier simply stared at him.
"I'm… going to go get him some breakfast. He's got to be hungry by now," Bruce mentioned as he walked around the bed. He left the two men to deal with each other.
"I'm sorry about all this," Steve offered to his old friend, indicating the bindings holding him captive. "Are you hungry?"
The Soldier continued to look at him but didn't answer.
"We're not going to harm you," Steve told him.
"Then let me go," the Soldier stated.
"I can't do that," Steve replied. "You're not a prisoner, but –"
"Then let me go," the Soldier repeated.
"I can't," Steve answered shaking his head slightly.
"What do you want?" the Soldier demanded to know.
"We want to help you."
"Then let me go."
Steve didn't want to keep going in a circle with this so he tried to break out of that line of conversation. "Do you need anything?" he asked. As the Soldier opened his mouth to answer, Steve interrupted, "besides letting you go."
The Soldier closed his mouth and remained silent.
Steve looked at his battered friend, wondering how in the world they were going to get through to him. "You want to sit up? I can raise your head."
The Soldier nodded.
Steve took a step back to read the directions on the bed's side rail. He pressed his finger to one of the buttons and the top half of the bed began to rise. He stopped it at a forty-five degree angle. "How's that?"
"I need to go," the Soldier said.
"You're not going anywhere," Steve told him as gently as he could. He didn't want to come across as threatening in any way, but the Soldier's insistence to be released was starting to frustrate him.
"I didn't say I wanted to go anywhere," the Soldier replied. "But I need to go. You've had me tied to this bed for the past twenty four hours… I need to go."
"Oh," Steve realized what the Soldier was telling him.
"You're not going anywhere," Tony announced rather loudly as he sauntered into the room. "You, my friend, are a menace and a threat to every living thing around you."
The Soldier scowled at the newcomer. "You don't even know me," he challenged.
"Oh, I know you. We all know you," Tony told him as he stopped near the foot of the bed.
"He needs to go," Steve informed Tony.
"Well, he's not going –"
"He needs to use the bathroom," Steve interjected and Tony blinked at him.
"Oh." He glanced around the room and walked past the left side of the bed to a door near the back corner of the room. He opened it and took a half step inside and came back out. "Here," he said and placed a portable urinal on the Soldier's lap. The Soldier looked at it and then at Stark. "That's all you're getting," Tony told him.
"I still need a hand free," he told Stark.
Tony looked at the Soldier for a moment and then to Steve. Steve gave him a half grin and shrugged. What could he do? They both knew the Soldier was right.
As the two Avengers looked at each other the Soldier glanced between the two and said, "Either release my hand or you can hold it for me."
"Yeah, nope," Tony replied and walked around the bed. As he passed Rogers he patted Steve on the arm. "Good luck with all of that," he said and left the room.
Steve watched him go and then turned back to his old friend with a grin still on his lips. "Are you going to behave if I release your right hand?"
"I'm left-handed," the Soldier told him.
"Yeah, well that's not happening," Steve said and he couldn't help a slight smile. He had to hand it to the man, it was worth a shot.
The Soldier just looked at him as he contemplated what his options were. He could try to take on the American while lashed to the bed, but he knew he wouldn't get very far with that. His best weapon – his bionic arm - would still be bound by a very strong metal alloy along with both legs. His right arm would not be enough to take on a super soldier despite his own physical strength, plus the American had an unknown number of teammates presumably nearby. He decided his best option would be to cooperate as much as possible and get them off their guard while he used the time among them to gather as much information as he could to bring back to Hydra. Then he'd take them all out and return to his handlers as soon as possible.
"Hello? You okay?" Steve asked, as the Soldier appeared to slip into his own thoughts.
"Yeah," he replied, his gaze locked on the wall in front of him.
"You gonna behave?" Steve asked again.
"Yeah," the Soldier nodded. When the American didn't move to release him, his gaze shifted from the wall to the man. The American was looking at him with an expression of – what was it? He furrowed his brow in confusion and then realized the man was waiting for him to look him in the eye, so he did. "Yes," he repeated, eye to eye with the American soldier.
"Okay," Steve said with a nod and began releasing the metal shackle holding the man's right arm to the bed frame.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing?" Bruce exclaimed as he returned with a tray of food.
"He needs to use this," Steve answered, raising the plastic bottle up for Banner to see then put it back down on the blanket.
"Oh," Bruce remarked. "Of course," he said and put the tray down on the table near the door then closed the door. He kept his gaze averted to give the man his privacy.
He didn't seem to care about that though, as his hand was released he moved to use the portable facilities before Steve could even move away from the bed and turn around. He walked over to Bruce near the door.
"He doesn't appear to have a shy bladder issue," Bruce mentioned and Steve gave a soft chuckle and then thought about that for a moment.
"I'm guessing privacy isn't a real luxury that Hydra affords him in any way," Steve offered.
"Yeah, probably not," Bruce agreed.
There was a knock on the door and Bruce turned to open it a few inches to see Dr. Golden standing there. She offered him a smile. "May I enter?" she asked.
"Umm… give us a few moments," he told her.
"Okay," she said amicably, not needing an explanation.
She could see Captain Rogers over Dr. Banner's shoulder and there didn't seem to be any issues going on, so she wasn't going to cause one. She waited outside the door as Bruce held it ajar but blocked her view. She could guess what was going on inside and she smiled to herself knowing the men chosen for this were taking care of the things that needed taken care of.
A moment later Captain Rogers moved out of view. She could hear his voice further away but he was speaking softly so she couldn't make out his words.
"All set?" he asked.
The Soldier had finished and balanced the bottle on the bed between his leg and the bedrail. He nodded and drew the blanket over his lap. Steve took the plastic bottle from its precarious position and started to walk around the bed to the bathroom to dispose of its contents.
Bruce saw him and called out. "No, no… don't do that."
He moved away from the door to go to Steve and Dr. Golden peered inside. Everything seemed calm inside the room so she slowly pushed the door open to get a better view of the goings on but didn't enter.
"I'll take that," Bruce told Steve who looked at him with a curious expression.
"Okay…" Steve replied as Dr. Banner took the bottle from his hand and put the cover on it. Steve handed the bottle over to Bruce with a quizzical expression.
"For testing," Bruce said, giving him a quick and simple explanation.
Steve understood and nodded.
The Soldier watched the two of them with a serious expression. He became aware of the door standing open and looked to see the blonde woman from yesterday standing there.
"May I come in?" she asked to no one in particular.
"Yes," Steve answered. "Come in, Doctor."
The Soldier nearly rolled his eyes and looked away from her. His reaction wasn't due to her personally as much as it was a response to being constantly surrounded by people who were doctors.
Bruce left the room with the bottle to put it in refrigeration in his lab until he could get to it.
Emily lifted the cover off the plate to see what was being offered and replaced it as Bruce returned.
"Is he ready to eat something?" she asked him as he came back in.
"I hope so," he answered.
She nodded in agreement and began to roll the table toward the bed as the Soldier watched her. Emily paused briefly when she noticed his right hand was no longer bound but was resting on the bed beside his leg.
"It's okay, Doctor," Steve offered. "He promised to behave."
"Promise is a strong word," the Soldier mentioned and Steve turned to him with a raised eyebrow. The Soldier averted his gaze and sat quietly as Emily brought the tray table closer. The Soldier raised his hand to sweep the long strands of dark hair off his face, startling Dr. Golden who quickly stepped back. The Soldier noticed and looked to her; realizing his sudden movement had frightened her, he slowly lowered his hand again.
Emily felt a bit foolish and apologized for over-reacting. "I'm sorry." The Soldier didn't acknowledge her apology; people didn't apologize to him for anything so it didn't occur to him that she was speaking to him, he simply looked down at that covered plate. "Are you hungry?" she asked, keeping her tone pleasant.
"Sure," he answered.
Emily removed the cover to reveal a full breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage, along with two slices of French toast and seasoned home fried potatoes. On the tray alongside the dinner plate was a brown cup with an opaque cover on it. There were droplets of condensation on the underside of the cover which indicated that the liquid inside was heated. There was another small clear plastic cup with a foil cover on it. It contained a pale golden liquid. The label on the top of it read Mott's Apple Juice. He thought he might have a vague recollection of having tasted apple juice once, a long time ago, but he couldn't be sure. He took note that the grilled toast and sausages had already been cut into bite sized pieces so no knife was being presented to him. 'Smart move,' he thought. Dr. Golden positioned the tray table directly over his lap and stepped back just out of his reach. Steve and Bruce watched him as he simply looked down at the meal and then his gaze moved to Dr. Golden.
"Is that all right?" she asked him.
The Soldier didn't respond to her verbally. He reached for the fork and stabbed a piece of toast. He brought it to eye level and looked at it then put it in his mouth. He chewed slowly, focused on the flavor of it. He remembered this – but from where?
As the Soldier slowly ate the meal he'd been given, Bruce took his leave and went to his lab. Steve sat down in the chair under the TV so the Soldier wouldn't feel hurried. He seemed to be savoring every bite; Emily noticed that as well. He took each bite and chewed slowly as if he wasn't used to the activity.
"May I ask -?" she began and paused as the Soldier's gaze shot to her, surprised by her voice. He stopped eating and just looked at her. It took a few seconds for Emily to realize he was waiting for her question. "The marks on your arm," she mentioned, pointing casually at the patterned marks on his right arm. They were clearly injection marks and it was obvious to her, as a doctor, that whatever had made them was done to him repeatedly. They appeared more as scars now than a one-time medical procedure.
The Soldier's gaze moved from her face down to his arm. Then he looked back at her, waiting for her to finish her question.
"—how did you get them?" she asked carefully.
The Soldier took another bite of the meal and said, "That's where they plug me in."
Dr. Golden blinked in surprise and looked at Captain Rogers. Steve leaned forward in the chair with a scowl now on his face. Emily turned back to the Soldier.
"What does that mean… exactly?" she asked.
"They plug me in… before putting me to sleep," he told her.
"Do you mean "cryo-sleep"?" she asked.
"What other kind of sleep would there be?" he asked in return taking another bite. The more he ate of the meal, the more ravenous he seemed to become. His movements weren't so careful and focused anymore as he seemed to realize he needed to take in as much nourishment as he could before they pulled it away from him.
"Slow down," she told him. "You don't have to eat so fast. No one is going to take it away from you." He glanced at her with a scowl as if he didn't believe her. He had so much food in his mouth he could barely chew it. "I promise you, nobody is going to take it away until you say you are done."
He stared at her, trying to ascertain her sincerity, and slowly began chewing what he already had in his mouth.
"Do they feed you? Where you come from?" she asked.
"Sometimes," he told her around a mouthful of food.
"Sometimes?" she asked. "How do you get nourishment if they only give you food "sometimes"?"
"They plug me in before sleep," he told her, showing her his arm. "I get nourishment when I sleep. Then they wake me up to complete a mission… when I return, they plug me in and—"
"—you go to sleep," Steve finished the sentence.
The Soldier nodded as he continued to eat. Steve stood up in frustration. Emily put a hand on his arm as a signal to not display his upset in front of the Soldier. Steve turned to her as he felt her restraining touch. He looked at her as if wanting to say "what the hell?" Dr. Golden nodded that she completely understood his feelings, but this was not the moment to discuss it. Dr. Golden did, however, feel this line of conversation was perfect to ask another question.
"How exactly do they wake you up so you can go on a mission?" she asked.
The Soldier shrugged. He didn't know the procedure for thawing him out. All he knew was it took him time to get his body to work after they unplugged him and pulled him from the chamber.
"What happens after they wake you up?" she asked, rephrasing the question.
"They drag me down the corridor to another room and drop me in the chair… then shoot lightning through my eye," he told her as casually as she would tell someone how she walked to the kitchen for a snack in the middle of the night. For him, these horrors were his life. He couldn't remember anything else, but this.
"What is the lightning?" Steve asked, visibly agitated but trying to remain calm.
"I don't know," the Soldier answered. "But I think it makes me forget."
"Makes you forget…" Steve echoed.
"Yeah, it erases the details of the previous mission so I can focus on the next one," he told the American. "So they tell me…"
"He's talking about ECT," Steve said to Dr. Golden.
"Not here, Steve," she told him with a pointed look. She then turned back to the Soldier and noting that he was nearly done with the meal, she reached for the juice cup with the intention of opening it for him. She let out a startled scream as the Soldier's hand came down hard on hers, pinning it to the tray.
"Whoa!" Steve shouted and moved to her defense.
"My fault… my fault!" Emily exclaimed putting a hand up to halt Captain Rogers from moving too close. His involvement could escalate the situation in the same manner as yesterday's incident and this time she was in the Soldier's grasp.
The Soldier hadn't hurt her. He could have; he was still holding the fork in the same hand that had hers pinned to the tray. Her fingers were wrapped around the small juice cup that she had attempted to remove from the tray. She had promised him that nobody would take anything away from him until he was finished, and she had failed to let him know she simply wanted to open it for him.
"Take your hand off her!" Steve demanded and the Soldier raised his eyes to him; his expression serious and determined.
"Captain, I'm fine," she assured him. "It's my fault. I should not have moved without telling him I was going to open the juice so he could drink it."
The Soldier looked at her, considering her words. He looked down at the cup in her grasp and he looked up at the American soldier who was coiled like a spring, ready to move on him if he had to. He carefully removed his hand from hers and allowed her to withdraw her hand. Emily focused on trying to slow her heart rate as she removed the foil top. She then set the cup down on the tray for him. She turned away as she crumpled the foil in her hand and moved across the room to deposit in the trash. She could have simply left it on the tray but she needed to get her nerves back under control; she was shaking and unnerved by the speed with which he'd reacted and the sheer power she felt in his hand. She took a deep breath and smoothed her hair back with both hands before turning back.
Steve watched the Soldier closely as he finished the last bite and then picked up the cup Dr. Golden had opened for him. He sniffed it and then slugged back the juice in one large swallow. He licked his lips and decided that he liked apple juice as he placed the cup back on the tray.
"Are you finished?" Steve asked.
The Soldier scanned the tray and saw only the hot beverage remained, which he had no interest in at the moment. He nodded and Steve pulled the table away.
"I'm going to go take a shower and get something to eat," Steve mentioned, "so I'm going to have to bind your hand again. Sorry."
The Soldier just looked at him for a moment and then lowered his gaze as he laid his arm on the bottom half of the vibranium shackle. Steve watched him as he voluntarily surrendered his partial freedom; the expression on his face wasn't one of anger or defiance, but that of someone who knew they were powerless and hopeless.
Steve stared at his friend with sorrow in his heart. He looked to Dr. Golden realizing he couldn't do it. He couldn't be one of those people who treated Bucky Barnes like a rabid dog who needed to be muzzled and chained.
"It's all right, Captain," Emily told him as she moved closer. "I'll stay with him while you go take care of yourself. I'd like to talk to Sgt. Barnes alone for a while anyway."
Steve nodded. "Behave yourself," he told the Soldier and left the room.
The Soldier looked up at her curiously. "What'd you call me?" he asked.
"Sgt. Barnes," she answered. "That's your name."
His face screwed up tight into a confused scowl. He tried to find that name in his memory and then shook his head slowly. "That's not my name," he told her.
"It is your name," she told him gently.
"That's not what they call me… where I'm kept."
"Where you're kept," she echoed, keeping her own distain for the phrase out of her words. He nodded thoughtfully. "What do they call you?"
"Zimni Soldat," he replied.
"Zimni Soldat," Dr. Golden repeated. "That's Russian, correct?"
He nodded.
"It's a beautiful name," she told him and looked over her shoulder as someone entered the room behind her. "Hello, Natasha," she greeted the redhead.
"It's not a name," Natasha told her. "Zimni Soldat means Winter Soldier."
Emily turned to look at the Soldier again. He did not react in any way to the correction. She took a deep breath and let it out. She took a moment to think about this new information. Not only was he labeled Codename: Winter Soldier in the recorded files of the SSR, but he wasn't even afforded the dignity of a proper name for seventy years.
Hydra knew his real name; it was clearly recorded in the Subject line of the journal entries. They simply refused him his birth name to de-humanize him; to keep him in their minds as nothing more than a possession; a weapon, a tool to forward their agenda.
"Hello, Doctor," Natasha greeted Emily after-the-fact with a smile as she leaned against the wall to the left side of the bed. "Sgt. Barnes…" Tasha greeted the Soldier.
He shook his head slowly."Yanaz nayu etovah yimenyi."
"Speak English," Nat told him. She repeated this command to him in an attempt to guide him back toward his past when he was James Buchanan Barnes. The more he insisted on speaking in Russian the more tethered to the Winter Soldier conditioning he would stay.
"I don't know that name," he repeated in English.
"You will," she told him.
He looked at her visibly uncertain of her words or what these people truly wanted with him. He also didn't understand why a Black Widow was among his captors. This whole situation could be a test by Hydra to see how loyal he is to them. He knew what would happen to him if he attempted to give up their secrets – he knew, because he was the one they'd send in to silence permanently any Hydra operative who talked.
Dr. Golden watched the play of changing expressions on his face as he conversed with Natasha; a fellow former Russian operative. She also noted that the only time he reverted to speaking Russian was in her presence.
"Do you know this woman?" Dr. Golden asked him, gesturing toward Romanoff.
His eyes followed her hand movement and he looked at Natasha before dropping his gaze. "Ona chernaya vdova," he answered.
"English!" Natasha said loudly, causing Dr. Golden to jump slightly and the Soldier's hateful gaze shot to her.
"She is... a Black Widow," he told Dr. Golden.
"That's what I am," Nat defined, "but do you know me? Do you know who I am, not just what I am?"
At first he seemed confused by the question, as if the 'who' and the 'what' were the same meaning for him. Dr. Golden realized that there probably was no differentiating the two meanings for him; as who he was as a person no longer mattered to those who held him captive and caused him constant pain and anguish. He was simply a means to an end… he was a 'what' to them, not a 'who'.
"Nyet," he finally said. He quickly glanced at Nat realizing he'd answered in Russian and quickly corrected to English. "No, I don't know you. Should I?" he asked.
"When I was a child," Natasha began.
Emily looked at her with interest, surprised that Natasha's answer wasn't simply "no".
"… you trained me," Nat finished.
The Soldier looked at her, as if he was trying to place her. His eyes looked her up and down, but then he just shook his head slightly, almost imperceptibly. Dr. Golden's jaw dropped slightly at that information.
"Ya tebenyaz naah." -I don't know you.-
Natasha sighed; not because he didn't remember her, but because he couldn't seem to remember to speak English within moments of being told to. Perhaps seventy years in the clutches of Hydra's Soviet connection really did re-write his brain. English was Sgt. Barnes' first language, but he used Russian as if it was his first remembered language.
"Natasha," Dr. Golden said, "may I speak with you in the hall?"
Nat nodded and pushed away from the wall. As Emily walked toward the door, Nat noticed the open shackle at the bed rail. She moved toward it and stood beside the bed.
"Put your hand here," she told him. The Soldier didn't move, just his eyes lifted to pin her with his gaze. "Do it… or I'll make you do it."
The Soldier sighed and dropped his forearm onto the open shackle and Nat secured it before leaving the room. She closed the door behind her and went to where Dr. Golden was waiting for her.
"We need to talk," Emily said and turned away from her to head down to the private office.
TBC