94.
?
?
Isabel's lost count of how many times they've been woken from cryostasis and Bucky's been deployed for a mission, but it doesn't really matter anymore, anyway. All of their time awake seems to blur together in a mass. Nearly every time is the same, with the exception that the names of their targets are different and the people around them are a little older.
This time, it isn't Madame Hydra who wakes Isabel up. She opens her eyes inside the chamber and is met with the cold blue eyes of a blonde-haired man. He is unkind and unfamiliar, and he barely allows Isabel any time to recover from cryostasis before he roughly picks her up and drags her upright onto her weak feet. Bucky's getting much the same treatment from a man wearing a red beret-like hat and clothed in what almost resembles a camouflaged green army uniform.
"Barnes?" The blonde says, and Isabel looks up. It's been a long time since she's been referred to by name, not since she angered Madame Hydra enough that the woman addressed her by name in warning. "We've awoken you because your time handling the Asset is officially over."
Isabel snaps out of the fog of her mind from the cryostasis. Her jaw drops and she stares in shock at the unfamiliar, strange man who's come in and turned her life upside down once again. "W-what, why?"
"We've found someone who'll be up to the task. Two people, actually," the blonde man says, his voice comforting as though this promise should settle Isabel's worries. "The first man is Colonel Vasily Karpov, the second is Alexander Pierce. They've both been working for Hydra for some time now and have extensive experience in missions and tactics. They'll be able to train and handle the Asset quite effectively."
"But I've been doing it fine–"
"Pierce has also secured a rather high position within SHIELD and has recently been appointed Undersecretary to the World Security Council. He's our top undercover operative inside the United States Government. There's no one better to take on this job. He'll play a vital role in choosing the missions undertaken by the Asset."
"No," Isabel argues. Most of the institutions the man listed mean little to Isabel, apart from SHIELD. But she knows everything is bad, terribly bad. This man, this Pierce, could change the world with his influence in both Hydra and Shield. He could be the difference between Hydra winning and losing. "I-I want to work with the Asset. Let me do it."Only I can make sure you treat him right. Only me.
"I'm afraid that isn't possible," the man says easily. "It's already been planned, and everything is already in motion. The Asset has only one mission to complete before we begin the next stages of the Winter Soldier program and his further training. But you needn't worry about any of that. All we need is for you to inform the Asset that he is not in your control anymore. We need you to hand the Soldier over to his new handlers."
Isabel frowns and looks away, to Bucky sitting in a spare chair on the other side of the room. He's watching her carefully, likely making sure she isn't in any danger. He's been trained to protect his handler, after all.
Isabel knows there's nothing she can do. She's only one person and she has absolutely no power over anything in this situation. It's out of her hands. The least she can do is make this easier for them all. Perhaps, then, they won't plan out a terrible fate for her or for Bucky.
"I want to meet his new handler," Isabel demands. "I want to make sure he's going to treat the Asset properly. The Soldier only responds to nurturing and care, not to ill-treatment. Enough of the men around here mishandle him, I won't let his new handler do the same. If his new handler wants to get any sense of control from the Soldier, he'll need to treat him with at least a hint of respect and humanity," Isabel says strongly, glaring at the man who holds her.
"We understand that," the man reassures. "You have been working with him a long time, and we have made note of your progresses and efficiencies. This is a point that both Pierce and Karpov are well aware of and willing to employ in their work."
This settles Isabel's nerves slightly, knowing that they'll continue to treat Bucky with at least a bit of respect. If they know it's their only way to control the Soldier, then at least they'll comply with her wishes.
"The Soldier's first handler is over there," the agent explains, pointing to the man in the red beret and camouflage who is standing beside Bucky. "Colonel Vasily Karpov. He has been tasked with leading the Winter Soldier program in the event of the retirement of Madame Hydra. He'll also oversee all of this Winter Soldier's movements and missions from here on out."
Isabel looks at the man a while. He looks stern and strong but not harsh and unreasonable. She can just hope he'll treat Bucky with kindness.
"And the second?"
"Right here, Miss Barnes," an unfamiliar male voice says, followed by footsteps.
Isabel turns to the voice and her heart stops thudding in her chest, her eyebrows rising in shock. Standing in front of her, she could have sworn was Steve Rogers. The resemblance really is uncanny. The man looks so much like Steve that it makes Isabel falter. He's got the same blonde hair, blue eyes, facial structure. He's a little shorter, a little smaller. And obviously he's a lot older than Steve, around the mid-fifties. He looks like an older Steve, or at least, what Isabel imagines he might have looked like.
But it can't be a coincidence – maybe Hydra thinks Bucky will respond equally as well to someone who looks like his dead best friend, even if Bucky doesn't really remember Steve. After all, it worked for them to use Isabel as his handler. As long as he doesn't know who Steve is, of course, or else cue the nausea and sickness.
Isabel reaches out to touch him but quickly pulls her hand away, berating herself.This is not Steve. Not Steve. His name is Alexander Pierce.
The man must notice her reaction and must have expected it, because he smirks at Isabel. "Do I remind you of someone?" He asks kindly, though Isabel can hear the underlying humour and vindictiveness to his voice.
"A little," Isabel admits.
Pierce smiles, and the upturn of his mouth is so familiar, so like Steve, that it makes Isabel shudder. He holds out a hand for Isabel to shake. "I'm Alexander Pierce. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Barnes. You're very well-regarded within Hydra for your work controlling the Winter Soldier. You've done an excellent job with him."
Isabel looks at Pierce's hand with disgust, before glaring right at him, meeting his eyes. Pierce gets the hint and lets his hand drop with a smile.
"Not like I had a choice," Isabel grits out.
"He seems to respond well to gentleness and care, yes?"
Isabel sighs. "If you're still going to do this to him, just treat him kindly, okay? He's still a person. You may be treating him like a puppet on strings, but he's got feelings and a heart, and I don't want you hurting him."
"You care for him," Pierce notes, genuine surprise in his tone. "Not often that a handler feels for their subject."
"He's my damn brother, that's why," Isabel practically explodes. "You may have made him forget who I was, but I remember, and he'll always be my brother."
Pierce looks between Isabel and Bucky multiple times, the pieces of the puzzle coming together. "I see," he eventually says. "I haven't read that in any of your notes. I suppose I should have seen the resemblance, but the odds are just so low of this happening. Whoever captured you back in nineteen-forty-six knew what they were doing."
"You can thank Madame Hydra for that."
Pierce nods. "We do," he reassures. "I won't harm your brother," Pierce promises sincerely. "If he responds well to friendliness, then I'll develop a rapport with him. We can bond. I can understand him, and I'll give him a while to understand me. Once it's settled, you'll have concluded your efforts."
"And then what's going to happen to me?" Isabel asks.
"That hasn't been decided yet," Pierce says quickly. "Though it seems a shame to waste your talents. Madame Hydra gave you the super-serum and trained you. It would be pointless to just… kill you. Perhaps we can keep you around until we find something useful for you to do."
"Sounds dandy," Isabel whispers sarcastically.
Pierce cracks a genuine smile. "Now there's language we don't hear much anymore. Your generation had the best slang."
Isabel looks back up at that, confused. It seems weird for the man to say that when he's clearly at least twenty years older than her. Then, she remembers, that she's been frozen for years. Time truly means nothing to her anymore.
Pierce turns then, to Karpov beside Bucky. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we? Now, Miss Barnes, I need you to pass on your duties to us. You need to convince the Soldier that we are his new handlers and to trust us. You think you can do that?"
Isabel glares, but a few tears shed from her eyes involuntarily. "You're never going to let me see him again after this, are you?"
Pierce pauses. "Maybe in passing. But no, not really. You and him are finished. Having you around too much would risk him remembering. It's happened once before, many, many years ago. We can't risk it happening again. Now that he is subdued, and calm, andmalleable, there's no need for such risks."
Isabel glares at Pierce as she passes him, and he looks rather smug. "If you hurt him, I'll fuckin' kill you," she warns in a deadly tone.
"Good luck with that, love. He'll be fine, don't worry."
Isabel slowly walks over to Bucky, who watches her with an almost curious expression. He notices the tears, of course, and his eyebrows furrow, but he says nothing. Isabel stops right in front of him, and because the chair he's sitting on is rather high, a stool of sorts, he's not that far off being eye level. She always likes to be at eye level. She isn't any better than him; they're equals. And she never wants him to be scared.
Isabel takes a deep breath. "There's going to be some changes to the way things are done from now on. I can't be your handler anymore," she tells Bucky in a shaking voice. "I can't tell you what to do anymore, so you're going to listen to these nice men, okay? They're going to look after you from now on."
Bucky's mouth flutters open and closed like a fish. He looks between Pierce and Karpov, who offer him a small smile, but his eyes still widen in fear.
"It'll be okay," Isabel tries to reassure. She puts a gentle hand on his metal shoulder.
"Please, no. I like you," he begs, his voice small.
"I know you do, Bu– Soldier. But I can't anymore, okay?" Isabel says, her own voice pleading with him to just accept it. She fears what might be coming, can practically feel the fear and anger and distress building in Bucky's body in front of her. She can see it in his eyes.
"No!" Bucky cries. He reaches out and grabs Isabel's hand in his own, clutching it like a lifeline. All guns in the room stay down, not like when the Asset touches another Hydra soldier. It makes their feelings about Isabel clear. She's dispensable. The Asset can hurt her and they wouldn't bat an eyelid. She's played her part, and now she's useless. "Please, don't leave me. Please. I need you to be my handler. You're nice to me. You don't hit me. You don't hurt me. Please!"
Isabel gulps. "Just trust me, it's going to be okay," she promises, patting his hand that holds hers.
"No!" Bucky cries out, growing angrier.
Isabel tries to free her hand, but Bucky's grip is too strong. "Soldier, please, let me go," she grits out, the tears falling faster now. "I can't see you anymore. I can't be your handler anymore."
Bucky's vice grip on her hand ishurting, and the can feel the bones shifting, her hand turning red under his fingers.
"You need to let go, Soldier," Isabel says calmly. "Of my hand, and of me."
Bucky doesn't shift, but almost reaches out more, grabbing her wrist as well.
"You need to break the bond between you," she hears a Russian-accented voice say, and Karpov appears beside her, looking at her carefully. "You need to make him distrust you. He likes you too much. This is not what a handler looks like."
"No," Isabel mutters, looking at Karpov as though he had two heads. "No. I won't hurt him, ever."
"Do it, Miss Barnes. Break the bond. He trusts you because you don't hurt him. That's what you need to do. You need to hurt him," Pierce adds, coming closer as well and standing on Isabel's other side, both of them like the devils sitting on Isabel's shoulder, whispering evils and atrocities in her ear.
Isabel looks down at Bucky, who's wide-eyed with terror and clutching her entire arm with both his hands, trying to pull her closer to him. It's almost like he's trying to hug her, he wants her so close. But even through the fear, Bucky's eyes are entirely trusting. He's putting his life into Isabel's hands, into his handler's hands. He trusts her with his life.
Isabel has to look away it fills her with so much sadness and sickness. Bucky just keeps crying, tears streaming down his cheeks, letting out a chant ofplease don't leave me with them don't go, please–
"Miss Barnes," Karpov says warningly.
Then, he raises a gun to the side of Bucky's head, right where he can't see it. Bucky doesn't notice anyway, too busy crying and latching onto looks at the gun, at Karpov and then back at Bucky, her mind racing.
"I'm so sorry, Bucky," Isabel whispers.
Then, she draws her free hand back and brings it down on Bucky's cheek, hard, a slapping sound echoing through the room.
Bucky's cries stop immediately. He stares wide-eyed at her with betrayal in his eyes, his mouth open in shock. Then his eyes shift from trust to something Isabel prayed she'd never see – distrust and fear. He's scared of her, he fears her. He looks at her exactly the same way he looks at every other Hydra agent that he's ever come into contact with.
"I said let go," Isabel grits out. Isabel's own eyes widen at what she's done, a stinging sensation on the palm of her hand. Bucky's cheek immediately reddens with a welt in the shape of a small, feminine hand.
He lets go of Isabel's arm slowly, his human hand coming up to lightly touch the mark. Isabel takes a few steps away from him as Bucky sinks back into his chair away from her.
"Oh, you poor thing," Karpov comforts, his voice entirely fake as he kneels down beside Bucky's chair. Bucky's eyes flick to him, still wide with shock. "Let me see," Karpov prompts, moving Bucky's hand carefully from his cheek. "Oh, that looks like it hurts. What a horrible handler they landed you
with, to hit you like that."
Bucky's eyes flick back to Isabel, who's turned away, feeling sick to her stomach for what she's done and before Bucky can say anything else, her eyes welling and her heart physically aching in her chest. She covers her mouth, holding in a sob.
Pierce steps up to Bucky, kneeling in front of him to be on his level. "Hello, soldier."
Bucky pauses, looking instinctively to Isabel for guidance. Their eyes meet and then he looks away quickly, face falling, and stares back at his lap. "H-Hello."
"My name is Alexander Pierce. This is Vasily Karpov. We are going to be your handlers from now on."
"B-but–"
"No, buts. It's time for your old handler to have a break; she's been looking after you a long time now. Don't you think that's fair? Don't you think she deserves a rest? Look at her," Pierce says, pointing to Isabel in the corner. "Look how tired she is. You made her that tired. You made her hate you so much that she hurt you. She's always had to look after you. It takes a toll on a person. You're a lot to handle."
Bucky doesn't look entirely convinced. "I-I guess." Bucky says, frowning worriedly. He chances a glance at Isabel, who's still crying silently. "But y-you made her hit me. She didn't w-want to. I-I don't think s-she wants to leave."
"Don't worry, she does. Those are happy tears," Karpov says, his voice condescending. "She will miss you though."
"I'll miss her, too," Bucky says, looking as though he may cry again.
"We'll look after you, don't worry. We won't ever hurt you like that. We'll be good friends, soldier," Vasily promises, touching a hand lightly to Bucky's shoulder. Bucky flinches at the touch, but when he realises it's gentle, he calms again.
"O-okay."
"Together we can make the world a better place," Pierce tells Bucky. "Are you ready to start?"
Bucky nods silently.
Karpov gets out the Winter Soldier's red book, the one Isabel has held in her hands at least eight times, and he reads the familiar words. "Zhelaniye, rzhavyy, semnadtsat', rassvet, pech', devyat', dobroserdechnyy, vozvrashcheniye na rodinu."
Isabel looks away as Bucky turns into the Soldier, his face turning from emotionful to emotionless and blank. "Gotovy soblyudat'."
"We have a new mission for you,Soldat," Karpov instructs. "Howard Stark has managed to replicate the super-soldier serum made by Doctor Erskine in nineteen-forty-three. He is delivering it to SHIELD tomorrow night. You're to eliminate Howard Stark and bring the serum packets back to base undamaged. We will be using them for the next stage of the Winter Soldier program. Take out any witnesses."
"Copy," Bucky says, stoic.
Isabel is shocked into silence. She watches as Bucky is led off by the soldiers in his strike team, no hint of recognition on his features at the mention of his old friend.
"No!" Isabel says, glaring at Pierce. "No, not Stark. Please! Take the serum and leave him."
"No can do, love," Pierce says, walking away with Karpov.
Isabel follows when no one tells her to stop or shoots her. She runs after them through the hallways, struggling to keep up. Karpov notices her following and turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow.
"Stark is a threat to Hydra. He always has been, but now even more so," Pierce explains. "That serum, if it works, may be an improvement on ours. We've never managed to synthesise it past what was given to the Asset and yourself. You only survived, as Zola said, because of your genetic sequence. You were lucky. This may be our chance to get the one up on everyone else."
"Z-Zola didn't know about me," Isabel argues.
"Actually, he does know about you. He is rather glad that his serum managed to work twice and that it had been on you. He said he'd had you and the Asset in his possession multiple times intending to experiment on you but always lost you at the last minute. He's been monitoring you and the Asset whilst you were under cryostasis to prevent any recognition and memory recollection from the Asset, and anger from yourself," Karpov says.
"B-but we had him arrested? He should be in a prison cell."
"That you did, but he didn't stay imprisoned for long. He began working for Shield during Operation Paperclip, when the United States began recruiting enemy scientists to work for them. He's been with Hydra and Shield all along," Pierce explains.
Isabel feels her blood boil. Once Hydra, always Hydra. Working for the United States wasn't going to change that. She decides to change the subject to calm herself. There's nothing she can do.
"How long has Howard been working on the serum?" Isabel asks, feigning curiosity and innocence.
"Clever, trying to work out what year it is," Pierce says with a laugh. "You know, I think you're smarter than the men give you credit for. I'll tell you. It's nineteen-ninety-one."
"Ninetee– What?! H-how… How long have I–?"
Pierce quickly does the tally in his head. "It's been forty-six years that you've been here. You've been frozen for about forty-four of them all up, only released when we needed you. So, luckily for you, you haven't aged more than about two years. Though, with the serum, you'll age slower than average, so maybe you haven't aged a day."
"But–"
"What will we do with her?" Karpov asks Pierce, as if Isabel weren't even there.
"She knows too much to just let her free," Pierce says, scratching his chin in thought. "Not that we would do that. She's Hydra's property."
"But everyone she ever knew is either dead or 100."
"Well, maybe not quite 100," Pierce chuckles. "Doesn't mean there's no one she can run to and talk to. She knows that SHIELD is powerful."
Isabel's watches them carefully, mouth drawn into a scowl.
"We know how important she is," Karpov thinks aloud. "Her and the Soldier are somewhat legends within Hydra. Most of the workers don't even know of their existence. And she's been missing so long, we can't just release her out into the world, we'll be discovered. She's an allied war hero. Someone will know her, even if we take her memories. We cannot release her…"
"But if we kill her, Hydra will lose an asset and a legend."
"What a dilemma. What are you going to do with me now, then?" Isabel asks, insistent, to remind them that she is still there and won't be spoken about in such a manner. "Now that you don't need me to control Bucky anymore?"
"Let's wait and find out," Pierce says.
He and Karpov grab Isabel's arms suddenly and manhandle her into a small room to their left, closing
the thick metal door behind her. When she stumbles and gets up, Pierce is pointing a gun to her head through a small slot in the door, no bigger than a mail slot in the door of the front house.
"Wait here. Don't cause trouble. We'll come inform you of our decision later."
Long Island, New York
December 16th, 1991
The car drives along the abandoned dirt road, passing through the dense trees. The headlights spread out before the vehicle, lighting its path through the darkness of the night.
The Soldier sits on his motorbike within the cover of the trees, waiting silently as the car passes. He flicks a switch and the headlight on the front of his bike turns out, illuminating his own path through the trees back onto the road and casting shadows from the trees onto the ground.
The Soldier swerves the bike out onto the road, appearing right behind the slowly moving car. He sits behind it for just a moment, taking a second to configure himself and his surroundings, before he speeds up and comes up beside the sedan, the engine rumbling loudly underneath him.
Pulling a gun from a pocket on his pants, the Soldier aims and shoots, firing a bullet into the front of the car, right into the door. The sudden noise frightens the driver and he swerves to the left, right into the concrete wall of someone's front gate of their Long Island mansion. The car hits the fencing with an almighty bang, the engine crumpling under the pressure, the driver and his passenger thrown forward painfully against the dash.
The Soldier slows his bike and turns it around, approaching the wreckage. He stops the bike and kicks out the stand, leaving it in the middle of the road. Slowly, with every step calculated, the Soldier steps toward the car.
He gets his metal fingers under the latch of the boot and pulls, easily breaking the lock, and lifts the lid of the trunk. Inside, lying securely between some blankets to stop it from moving, is a large metal case. He flips open the tabs to reveal five neat packets lying inside, filled with a blue liquid – the super-soldier serum.
The Asset takes the brief case back to his motorbike, securing it to a clip on the side for easy carrying. Then, he walks back toward his victim, rounding the car.
Howard Stark has managed to open his door and roll out of the driver's seat onto the rocky ground. He's face down, a small pool of blood beneath him, and he's attempting to crawl away from the wreckage.
"My wife… not my wife," he's repeating in a hazy manner, as though he's fighting through fog to give his one last request.
The Asset grabs him by the back of his greyed head and pulls him upright, Howard's hand moving to cling to the Soldier's flesh one. The Soldier raises his metal fist, ready to make impact, but pauses at the expression on Stark's face.
Howard looks up at the Soldier as if he recognises him, his jaw going slack. "Sergeant Barnes," Howard murmurs, and there's absolutely no doubt in his voice.
His victim seems to recognise him. There's no protocol for this. The Winter Soldier does not know what to do. A part of him also screams that he knows this man, but the voice is faint, indecipherable at times. The Soldier ignores it.
"Howard?" A woman's voice suddenly cries from inside the car, anguished and pained and confused.
Stark attempts to look behind him to where his wife sits only a few metres away, but is stopped when the Soldier suddenly brings his metal fist down, over and over into the inventor's face. There's no noise and no screaming from the victim, only the thud of his lifeless body hitting the ground when the Soldier lets him go.
But the woman in the car –Maria Stark– she's screaming for her husband, her voice rising in fear and hysterics with every passing moment of silence from her husband.
The Soldier picks up Stark's body and drags him back to the car, sitting him back in the driver's seat and resting his blooded face against the steering wheel as though he'd died in the crash. Maria screams then at the sight of her husband, at the sight of the strange, dark assassin that's killed her husband. Her breathing goes wild with panic.
The Soldier slowly makes his way around the car, calm as anything, and carefully reaches inside, taking Maria's throat in his flesh hand. He grasps tightly and squeezes, listening to her choke and pant and attempt to beg for mercy, his expression entirely void of emotion as he stares out over the roof of the car to the forest across from him.
And then, when it's finished, when the life has left her body as well, the Soldier walks toward the fence where a security camera is positioned above them with a perfect view of the road and the crime scene. He stops in front of it and looks up at the camera, his face in full view. Only after a few seconds does he raise a pistol and shoot, the bullet piercing through the fragile glass.
Isabel stays there for days until, unknowingly, the Winter Soldier returns with the serums, Howard and Maria dead.
She never does see Bucky again, or the Soldier. She has no idea of what becomes of her brother.
Similarly, she has no idea what becomes of herself.
When Pierce finally comes back into the room, he comes bearing some sort of news on her fate. "It's been a long while that we've debated what to do with you, Miss Barnes," he admits. "So you'll have to pardon the wait."
"And what's the verdict?" Isabel asks, her voice croaky from lack of Hydration.
"Many of the men wanted to have some fun with you. You're a woman, after all. Then, we were simply going to shoot you, maybe leave your body on the steps of SHIELD for dear Peggy Carter to find. How sad she would be to see you, looking so young, knowing you were alive this whole time. We failed to have her assassinated and now she is so well protected, we'll never get close enough to try again. We thought we could just leave you for her to find as a bit of payback for avoiding us…"
Isabel holds her breath as the men toy with her.
"Many thought we had no use for you anymore; that since the Asset now responds to me and you've managed to break him, you had done your job. But I convinced them all otherwise. You were given the super-soldier serum and it was successful. And now that the Asset has returned with Howard Stark's serum, we will have multiple more Assets like yourself at our disposal. I see no reason why you cannot become a part of the Winter Soldier program."
"W-winter soldier program?" Isabel stutters.
"There will be more of you, Barnes. More people with abilities beyond imagination. With Stark's serums, we can make a whole army."
An army of super-soldiers,that's what Hydra had wanted from the beginning, and apparently, it's what they've gotten. There's no Steve and Bucky left in the world to stop them. Peggy has no awareness that she's even alive. No one is going to save her. She won't be able to save herself.
Forty-six years she's been stuck here with no escape.
There's no way out. This is all her life will amount to.
Pierce drags Isabel down the hallway to the room with the mind-wiping chair. She goes willingly, all hope in her lost forever. She has no fight left in her. There's nothing for her to fight for anymore. She lets herself be dragged and thrown and sat down in the chair. She lets Pierce strap down her wrists and ankles. She lets the pads come down over her temples. She lets them use the memory wiping machine on her, and despite all the pain, she lets the machine work.
There's nothing to fight for anymore and she's tired,sotired. So, she doesn't fight. She gives in. She lets the world take her in whatever way it chooses.
Steve,
I used to see you all the time, but I can't see you in my dreams anymore.
I don't even know if I dream. Sometimes I think I just lay there with my eyes closed and hope that reality is the actual dream. But it isn't, and I know it. This is my reality now: pain and cold, darkness and training.
If you asked me to describe hell, this would be it.
Yesterday, or what I think was yesterday, when I woke up, I couldn't remember. They tried wiping me before I went to sleep, and when I woke up, I couldn't see your face anymore. Not in my dreams or my memories. I just knew that you had blonde hair and that your name was Steve. After a few minutes of panicking you came back to me though, told me you were okay, that everything was okay. It was comforting, for a while, until I realised that if I forgot you once, I could forget you again.
I'm scared, Steve. What if I forget for real?
My handler showed me a photograph of a man today. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, and he was wearing a navy-blue uniform with a star on his chest. It took me nearly five minutes to realise it was you, Steve. Five minutes.
I forgot you.
I forgot you until they showed you to me.
I'm so sorry.
I see this person, sometimes, in my mind. He's got blonde hair and blue eyes, and he smiles at me like I hung the moon. But I don't know who he is. He tries to get me to remember, but I never do. He changes in height. Sometimes he's tall, and well-built. Other times he's small and thin. It's the same person. He has the same face and the same crook in the ridge of his nose.
When he comes close enough, and when I let him, sometimes he gives me a hug. He kisses the top of my head, runs his hands through the back of my hair. His hands are gentle, and his body is warm, and his voice is kind. He feels safe. He feels like home.
I think I used to know him.
I saw this man today. He didn't have a face. He was just small and blonde, and his face was a blur.
He tried to talk to me, but his voice was muffled, and it kept cutting out, like white noise. It was like listening to someone talk through the radio when the reception is bad.
When I didn't recognise him, he looked sad. I couldn't make out his features, but I could tell he was sad. His shoulders slumped and he looked away from me, defeated. I felt bad.
He kept talking though. He tried again. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me, trying to get me to listen, but I still couldn't hear. When I couldn't hear him, he turned and walked away from me, disappearing into the distance.
I don't know who he was.
Right before I went to sleep, I heard a voice. There wasn't anyone there, and the voice didn't sound familiar. It was a man's voice.
All it said was, "please, try to remember".
Thing is, I don't know what he wants me to remember.