Chapter 3
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The soldier knows that one set of his words keep changing, knows it even if he can’t remember what they may have been before. It is a feeling of sorts and there is always enough chatter about him that he overhears things and there is always talk of his words when he first wakes up.
“They have changed again, what is this the faith or sixth time they have changed?”
It is the techs talking again and the solider just listens, says nothing. He isn’t supposed to speak most of the time unless spoken to and they aren’t talking to him right now, are talking about him and he just listens as he wakes up a bit more, lets them get him ready.
“Something like that, whatever red room girl they keep sending him out with must be the one speaking his words but it hasn’t caused any problems. His orders are in place and he knows by now not to go against them.”
The soldier hears this, wonders how many times he may have met this girl that they are speaking about. For just a moment there is a flash of red in his mind, bright hair like fire, and it is nothing more than a flicker. He has those from time to time, little flickers of things that he may have known or seen at some time, broken memories that he never gets to keep. He lets it pass and just does as he is told but when he gets a chance he does look at his words again.
The ones across his ribs look like they always have but the ones below them are different now. They are in the same language as the ones on his ribs but the soldier knows somehow that they are not always like that. He looks them over for just a moment, wonders if they will be said soon, and then pushes them out of his mind, gets ready for the mission.
He isn’t doing this mission alone and soon enough he is in a safe house waiting for his partner for this one. The mission will not be till the morning so there is time to rest and prepare. The soldier sits at the table, goes over his weapons that he was allowed for this mission, lays them all out. Each one is looked over, checked for any flaws, checked to make sure that they are clean and ready. This is simple and the soldier enjoys it just a bit, enjoys holding the knives in his hands and sharpening them, like being able to do something with his hands. He sleeps so often that it is nice to be awake and able to move.
He is still cleaning his knives when he hears movement. The soldier does not get up, just stays seated. It is more than likely his partner for the mission and if it is there is no reason to get up yet. If it is not, the soldier will be able to throw one of his knives quickly enough that any threat will be handled.
“It looks like you are prepared for tomorrow.”
Those words are on his skin right now and the soldier simply looks up at the girl who said them, sees her red hair shinning in the light. She stands a few feet away, posture relaxed for the most part and there is something very familiar about her, about her green eyes and red hair and he knows that they have worked together before. He gives her a small nod as he puts the knives down.
“It is important to have the right weapons on hand. “
She walks forward with his words and he almost wants to see if they are on her skin. He knows somehow that they aren’t and so he won’t ask about them. She sits down next to him, so very close, and she leans forward and brushes a finger along the blade he is holding till her finger touches his for a brief moment and then she moves her hand away. Her touch had been soft and warm and her voice sounds a bit the same as she speaks now.
“I know you don’t remember but you have told me that before. It was one of the first lessons I was ever taught and one that you like to remind me of at times. You also taught me to clean knives. ”
She holds a hand out with those last words and he hands her one of the knives he hasn’t gotten to yet. She starts to clean it and he watches her for just a few moments before returning to his own knife. They work in silence for just a few moments before he decides to ask a question.
“How many times have we met?”
He has no idea, memories wiped clean after each time more than likely, and it doesn’t really matter if he knows or not but he wants to. She turns and looks at him now, takes just a moment to think it over before she answers.
“This is the eighth time. The first was when I was young, you taught me.”
She is still young, the soldier knows that she is, young but hands already stained with blood and he helped make her that way. It is a thought he isn’t quite sure what to make of, something squirming insides of him at it that is not pleasant but he pushes it aside as she speaks some more.
“You were kind and I remembered you the second time we met but you didn’t remember me. That was after the words first appeared. We have met since then, worked together and each time is a bit different but my orders remain the same. We do the mission tomorrow and then you will probably forget me but we may see each other again.”
She says all of this so simply and he wonders what it is like for her to remember this, to not be made to forget. He wants to ask but he doesn’t, instead gives her a little nod and goes back to his knife. They go over the mission for tomorrow as they work, lay everything out and soon enough they are prepared enough that it would be a good idea to rest for the night.
“There is one bed here, you can have it.”
He tells her this now and she looks at him for just a moment.
“We can share it, no sense in you lying on the floor.”
“I might not lie down, I may not need to sleep tonight.”
It is the truth, he is still fresh enough out of cryo that he may not feel the need to sleep. She just looks at him for a moment before giving a nod and going into the other room. He can hear water running for a few moments, she must be cleaning up a bit and when she comes back her shoes are off. She moves closer to the table, closer to him, and reaches a hand out.
“I know you said you may not sleep but you should still lay down for a bit. I promise not to steal the covers too often.”
Her hand is near him, palm open and he thinks about it for just a moment before he reaches out and takes her hand. It is soft and warm and he doesn’t get to feel either of those things very often. He follows her to the room with the bed, takes his boots off and lays down on the bed. She lays down next to him and he can feel the warmth of her body. It is pleasant.
“I wondered what this would feel like, just lying with someone, lying with you. It is kind of nice.”
She says this softly and the soldier gives her a nod. They lay there and after just a few moments, she closes her eyes. The soldier does not, keeps them open and looks over at her every so often. Her hair is still so bright even in the dimness of the room and he reaches out for just a moment and runs his flesh hand over it. It is soft and she shifts only a little bit at the touch but does not open her eyes.
“You can keep your hand there, I don’t mind.”
It is almost a whisper but he hears it and he puts his hand back in her hair, strokes it softly. He doesn’t get the chance to touch like this, to touch and not cause harm and he likes it. He keeps his hand in her hair as her breathing evens out, as she falls asleep. She only shifts a few times during the night but each time she doesn’t move away from him, in fact she ends up closer. He lets her settle against him, head near his shoulder and it makes something inside him relax just a bit. He doesn’t get this, this sort of close contact with another and he stays near her the whole night, lets her rest and doesn’t mind not sleeping himself.
The next morning she wakes and gives him a smile before getting out of bed. The smile is as bright as her hair and it warms the soldier up just a bit. They start to get ready to leave now and he takes just a moment to ask a question that he is not sure if he has asked before.
“What is your name?”
It shouldn’t matter, he will probably forget her again soon enough but he wants to know it.
“You have never asked before. It is Natasha. I have never heard yours, do you remember it?”
She asks and he shakes his head. It has never mattered but he does wish he had one to give her.
“When I was young, I called you Winter sometimes. It is probably not your name but it is something to call you, if you want me to call you something.”
She says this now and he can feel his lips turn up just a bit in a smile.
“You may call me Winter, Natasha.”
He gets another quick smile from her and then they get ready to leave.
The mission is pretty standard, Natasha playing at bait with the soldier in the wings, and she is very good at what she does. She gets the man alone quickly enough, plays like she is interested, lets him stand too close and it makes something in the soldier’s stomach clench up to know that she has probably done this often. He is able to take the shot before she has to let the man touch her too much and he is glad for it. It doesn’t take long for her to take what is needed off of his body and then they are meeting up again, go back to the safe house.
They get a little more time alone before they will be separated again and the soldier makes the most of it. They speak a little bit about past missions that they have done together, Natasha telling him of them and some stories of when he taught her, and as she speaks sometimes he gets flickers of the missions, flickers of her. He wishes that he could remember her in case they meet again but he knows better than to try to ask to keep his memories of her. Memories are considered a distraction just like the words are so he won’t mention talking to her about them. Soon enough their handlers are there, mission debriefing is given, and then they are separated. He thinks about her till he gets put in the chair and then a lot is wiped away and he is put back to sleep.
The soldier awakens soon enough, is on a mission again with a partner and as soon as he sees her, he knows that he knows her somehow. Her hair is bright red and it makes him think of warmth and softness and when she speaks it is words that are on his skin. He doesn’t get much time with her, the mission is very short but he gets a smile from her before they are separated and it warms him all the way through.
The soldier dreams of red now, of red hair and bright smiles and he wishes he could remember more than that. There is someone out there with that red hair and that brightness and he hopes he will see them again even if he isn’t allowed to keep them. Every time he is waken for a mission there is hope that he will be assigned a partner for it and hope that it will be the one he dreams about.
He is awake now, on a mission, but he is alone for this one. Disappointment clings to him just a bit but the soldier tries to push it down. He has been given time for this one, a few days, and it is a few days without the chair, without direct orders and he is planning on enjoying this small amount of freedom even though he wishes he could see the brightness he keeps dreaming of. Maybe there will be more brightness later, for now he follows his target and waits for his chance to strike.
There is a moment that looks perfect, the target is alone, and the soldier waits for him in his room, hidden just out of sight. This shouldn’t take long and the soldier is ready for it, ready to strike out when the lights turn on but something happens before he can. There is a shot fired, something flying through the window and the target is hit, someone taking the shot before the soldier could. He comes out of his spot now, looks at the target and the arrow sticking out of him, looks out of the window. He can see someone on the nearby roof, sees them startle and take off. He has orders for when a target is stolen and he needs to follow them. The soldier takes the arrow with him and starts his hunt.
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