Chapter 23 – The Soldier
In a secret, windowless room under the Triskelion, the Winter Soldier remembered snow.
It had snowed many times during his long career...how long ? A voice inside him wondered. He frowned. That was irrelevant. Snow was irrelevant. In his memory, snow fell through a ragged hole in the roof of a small church. There was a statue of a woman, hand raised, a gentle smile on her lips. And beside him, another woman, just out of sight. If he turned his head, he would see her…
The Winter Soldier realized that his hand, his right hand, was shaking. He clenched it into a fist so the technicians wouldn't see. Why was he so afraid to turn his head and look at her?
Voices. Pierce and the others, talking about his mission. His failure. Both women had escaped. He should have felt shame; he had been trained to feel it. The mission was everything. But instead, something nagged at him, like a broken tooth.
Wood smoke. The smell of hay.
Impossible.
"Soldier!" The slap caught him by surprise, even though it shouldn't have. He shook his head. Pierce was glaring into his eyes. Blue eyes. Like hers.
Bucky. The voice was right, but the hair was wrong.
"The woman," he said. Trying to explain himself, excuse his failing. "I knew her."
Pierce sighed, slumping forward with a bowed head. He pushed himself up from the arms of the chair. Bucky felt shame at his disappointment. If he could only explain. But Pierce had turned away.
"Wipe him," he said to a white-coated technician. "And start over."
"Please," The Soldier said, but Pierce was already walking away. "Please. I knew her." The technician looked at him strangely, then looked away.
Another voice inside him answered. Stupid. Begging never does any good.
But he had spoken in English. The voice in his mind was speaking English. The Soldier didn't speak English.
He opened his mouth for the rubber bite guard and let the technicians shackle him into the chair, as he had been trained. But inside himself, he held on to those images, those memories. In that moment, it felt like they mattered more than his mission, more than his life.
A blonde braid. Snow falling through a hole in the roof. Someone leaning on his shoulder. Laughter. The woman on the bridge, her blue eyes wide in horror.
Bucky.
And then, the pain.
A short one! Don't worry - I'm posting two chapters today. I've been inspired recently and have some chapters in the bank. Let's hope I don't jinx myself...