Embers of the past
The cold air of the Austrian mountains bit at Celeste’s skin as she stumbled through the remains of the HYDRA facility, her legs weak from years of captivity. The sky stretched wide above her, an unfamiliar canvas of grays and blues, the vastness of it pressing down on her like a weight. She barely remembered what freedom felt like.
A firm hand caught her arm before she could fall. She turned sharply, instinct flaring, ready to fight—but the grip was steady, not cruel. The man before her, clad in navy blue and red, studied her with careful eyes. Steve Rogers.
“You alright?” His voice was strong, but gentle, cutting through the disorienting rush of newfound freedom.
She swallowed, unsure how to respond. Was she alright? She didn’t even know what she was anymore. But she nodded stiffly, her throat too raw for words.
Behind them, Bucky Barnes staggered, rubbing at his wrists where the metal restraints had held him. His eyes met hers briefly, an unspoken understanding passing between them. He didn’t remember how long he had been strapped to that table either.
The Howling Commandos worked quickly, guiding the freed prisoners through the forest, away from the wreckage of HYDRA’s grasp. Celeste moved without thinking, her body following instinct rather than command. She had no orders to obey anymore—no scientists barking instructions, no syringes biting into her veins, no cold steel tables beneath her spine.
She was free.
But why didn’t it feel like it?
The warmth of the fire crackled against her skin as she sat apart from the others, watching flames dance in the heart of the camp. The Howling Commandos moved around her, voices weaving through the night—men who had fought and bled together, sharing stories and laughter despite the war that raged beyond the mountains.
She envied them. They had something she didn’t. A past. A name. A place to belong.
Steve approached, lowering himself onto the log beside her, his presence steady but unintrusive. “You don’t talk much,” he said lightly.
“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.
He nodded as if he understood. Maybe he did. “Do you remember anything? Before HYDRA?”
Celeste inhaled slowly, fingers curling around the blanket draped over her shoulders. “Flashes. Pieces. I know… I know I don’t belong here.”
Steve was silent for a moment before he said, “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be here.”
The weight of those words settled deep in her chest.
Across the fire, Bucky sat with Dum Dum Dugan and Gabe Jones, his expression distant even as he forced a smile at something one of them said. He had been taken too. Experimented on. She could see it in the way he carried himself—the stiffness in his posture, the occasional flicker of something dark behind his eyes.
She wondered if he felt as lost as she did.
“You’ll figure it out,” Steve said with quiet conviction. “And until then… you don’t have to do it alone.”
For the first time since waking in that cold, sterile lab, Celeste felt something shift inside her. A flicker of light in the darkness.
She wasn’t sure who she was. But maybe, just maybe, she was ready to find out.