Chapter 2
“It’s a breach in protocol!”
“What harm can a tiny child do? Besides, we can use this.”
“How do you propose we do that?”
“He obviously feels protective of the girl, if the captain’s statements are to be believed. Threaten her to get him to do more missions. Say that we’ll torture her like we did to him if he doesn’t complete his mission quickly or some such thing. And while he’s away, we’ll train her to become the next Winter Soldier, should anything happen to him. Of course, we’ll clean her up and make her presentable when he’s on his way back, and he’ll never be the wiser. The girl can’t speak, nor can she hear, so she won’t be able to tell him what’s going on. It’s the perfect plan!”
“Hm, yes, I see your point. Perhaps it will work to our advantage. I will run it by the director. If he approves, the Soldier can keep the girl. If not, shoot her. In front of him. Show him what happens when he forms attachments.”
“Yes, general.”
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“She will remain here,” his handler said to him sharply. “If, for any reason, you slip up, she will suffer the repercussions. She is your responsibility, Soldier. Anything that happens to her is on you head.” The Soldier nodded shortly and quietly watched the man leave his room with the sharp clicking of his boots on the floor. The door closed with a clang, and he was left alone with the girl in his room. She sat rigidly on his cot, staring at the floor blankly.
“Teper' vy v bezopasnosti,” he said to her. (You’re safe now.) She glanced up at him, but he didn’t know if she could understand him, or just couldn’t hear him. “Ty mozhesh' slyshat'?” he asked, pointing to his ear. (Can you hear?) She tilted her head at him in confusion. The Soldier sighed. It was going to be a long day. He sat quietly on a stool and took out his multiple guns and knives that were still in their holsters and harnesses on his body. Placing them on the table, he began to clean them. The soldiers would come for them soon, and they expected them to be clean. He had never really cared about how well he did them, enough to get the job done, but now he was very meticulous about it. He had something to protect, a mission. Keep the girl safe. She was looking at him with curious eyes and got up, padding over on bare feet and peeking up over the table. Looking around, she found another clean rag and brought it back over. She found a small box and dragged it over, standing on it to see better. He regarded her with a silent gaze and watched as she picked up a piece of one of the other guns and began to clean it expertly. He raised an eyebrow. A girl this young knew how to clean weapons? She was an enigma.
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Two weeks had passed. In that time, the girl had managed to worm her way into a tiny corner of his heart. He hadn’t been wiped recently, so he had no trouble remembering that this was a girl he was to care for and protect. He hadn’t really given her a name, just a nickname. “Kotenok,” he said, making her look up at him. (Kitten.) He had discovered (and not shared the information) that she could hear perfectly well, she just didn’t understand Russian, English, or any of the other languages he had tried. Either she had never been taught, or no one cared. She gave him a small smile of acknowledgement. “Postel'.” (Bed.) He pointed at the cot, and she put down her drawing and climbed up onto the cot, burrowing under the covers. He was teaching her Russian one word at a time. So far, she was doing rather well. She never said them back, so he figured that she really couldn’t speak, but she was beginning to grasp what each word was. She could identify each of the items in the room, and she recognized when he called her. Over all, though, neither of them spoke a lot. He was trained to be silent, and she was naturally quiet. There weren’t uncomfortable silences between them, just calm ones. He sat where he was for about ten minutes after she was in bed, and he registered the exact moment that her breathing changed. She was asleep. He got up and walked down the hall to the room they had told him to go to. He had another mission, and his handlers did not want the girl to get any important information. She was “deaf and dumb,” not blind. Once they had given him his mission, he went back to his room and packed up his gear silently. The girl heard him though. She got up and padded over to pull at his pants leg, question on her face. “Missiya. Vesti sebya,” he said. (Mission. Behave.) She nodded in understanding and went back to bed, standing up on it to be more at his height. She motioned him over, and he went to stand over her, looking down. Holding out her arms, he picked her up. She hugged his neck tightly before pulling back to kiss his cheek. He put her down and looked at her wide, confused eyes. She waved at him, then crawled back under the blankets, going to sleep relatively quickly. He left the room, flicking off the bight overhead light, but leaving the tiny lamp in the room on, closing the door quietly and heading off for his mission.
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So life continued for the Winter Soldier and what Hydra was calling the Soldier’s Pet for many years. They would stay together in between missions, and when he left, Hydra agents trained her and taught her over twenty-five different languages, making sure she could write them and translate things. They still didn’t know that she could hear them. She was put through brutal training while the Winter Soldier was gone, often ending up bruised and bloody. She was fed only enough to keep her looking a bit healthy and forced to take ice cold showers. However, every two days before the Soldier came back, she was pampered enough to make a princess jealous. She was allowed long, hot showers, full meals, and put in a lavish room with a plush bed. Her wounds were allowed to heal, and any that weren’t were disregarded as accidents such as tripping or running into something while she was playing. She still didn’t have a name outside of his nickname for her, but the other Hydra agents just called her “pet.” He was only put in cryo a few times during these years, but he was wiped several times.
The two of them always had a code for when he was wiped. If he came back from a mission, once they were alone he was to call her by her nickname. After all, he would know that. If he didn’t call her that, she would know that they were to start all over again. By the fourth or fifth time, she understood Russian perfectly, but she wouldn’t let him in on that until she was certain that he remembered that he was supposed to protect her. Then, they would go back into their rhythm. By the time she was ten (she knew what her age was), it was down to an actual science between them. He was put in cryo around the time that she was nine and a half. They wiped him, with her watching this time, and put him on ice. Some of her worst training was when he was frozen. After all, they didn’t have to worry about the Winter Soldier finding out then. She could hold her own pretty well by now, even though she was still incredibly small for her age. She still barely came up to any one of the agents’ waist. He remained in cryo-freeze for six months before they thawed him out again, but they didn’t have time to slip into a rhythm then. He was taken out, evaluated, and briefed on his mission, then shipped out before the two could come into contact with one another.
She knew he was out, but she hadn’t seen him. She was sitting in their shared room silently, when the door opened and a gruff guard that liked to manhandle her walked in. He barked something at her so quickly she didn’t catch it and was yanked to her feet. The guard dragged her roughly through the building and stuffed unceremoniously into the back of a black SUV. Barely having enough time to make sure that she was secured under her seatbelt, the driver drove out and into the city. She hadn’t seen it before and stared out the window with wide eyes at the passing scenery and buildings. The car parked, and she was dragged out roughly again. At a brisk march, she was brought into an old building that probably used to be a bank, but she couldn’t make out what the sign on the building said before being herded inside. She was brought into the bank’s safe, where the Hydra has set up shop temporarily. Inside, an all-too-familiar chair stood, hooked up to various wires and machines as the Winter Soldier sat quietly, letting the technicians look over his metal arm. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he looked exhausted, shaken, and pale. She gave him a concerned look, but didn’t move.
The guard who had initially brought her shoved her harshly towards the Soldier, making her lose her balance and trip, dashing her knees against the floor and cringing in pain. The Soldier tensed and looked at the guard menacingly. Shoving the technician aside, he went over and picked her up, holding her to him. He mumbled quietly to her in Russian, his mouth barely moving, but his chest vibrating with the words. She laid her head on his shoulder and let the movement soothe her pain. He glared at the soldier who had pushed her but returned quietly to the chair, holding her in his lap as the technicians nervously began working on repairing his arm again. Using his other hand, the Soldier gently rubbed her knees, which would surely be bruised later on. He was still mumbling comforting words in Russian under his breath, but she heard her nickname in there several times, so he knew who she was. She looked at the wall through the curtain of her hair and his, but she squeezed his arm ever-so-slightly to let him know that she was okay. Tension still kept his body rigid, but he wasn’t worried about her anymore. Footsteps sounded through the hallway outside, and the Soldier sat up a bit straighter when Alexander Pierce, head of Hydra, walked into the room. She didn’t like him. He was always touching her and saying cutting things to her. Of course, the Soldier didn’t know, or Pierce would probably be dead by now, but that was just how her life was in Hydra. She suffered in silence, as did the Winter Soldier. Pierce gave a sickening smirk at the two’s position, but he told the Soldier to put her down. Obeying the order, he gently placed her next to him so she stood on his right, so close their arms were touching. “Sir,” one of the men said to Pierce, “he’s—he’s unstable. Erratic. Only the pet is keeping him calm.” Pierce nodded and went up closer to the Soldier. He gave a wicked smirk to her before turning his attention back to the man in the chair, who was looking blankly forward.
“Mission report,” Pierce said. The Soldier didn’t respond. “Mission report, now.” Still nothing. Pierce raised his arm and hit him hard in the face, knocking over against the arm of the chair. She took his human arm and helped him sit up again, glaring fiercely at Pierce, who ignored her.
“The man on the bridge,” the Soldier said quietly. “Who was he?”
“You met him earlier this week on another assignment,” Pierce said.
“I knew him.” Pierce pulled a chair over and sat down in front of him, so close that their knees were almost touching.
“Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped this century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we’re gonna give it a push. But if you don’t do your part, I can’t do mine, and Hydra can’t give the world the freedom it deserves.” The Soldier looked a Pierce in mild confusion.
“But I knew him.” Piercer stood and turned to the technicians.
“Prep him,” Pierce said coldly. She tensed and took the Soldier’s hand, squeezing tightly.
“He’s been out of cryo-freeze too long.”
“Then wipe him and start over.” The Solder gave her one long, sad, longing glance, and she felt tears rise up into her eyes to mirror his own glistening ones as a mouth guard was placed in his mouth and he was pushed back against the chair, strapped down. One of the guards came over and began to drag her away from him, but Pierce snapped at him. “No, let her stay. She should see what happens when she doesn’t obey. She could do with a reminder.” The guard released her, and she hurried back to take his hand again. He resisted for only a moment before giving in to the gesture. The machine whirred loudly as a device lowered over his head, and the Soldier’s pained screams made tears well up in and drip down her face, her eyes watching as the chair destroyed the memories of the man before her. Pierce walked out, leaving her at the mercy of the guards once again, but he left specific orders regarding her this time. She barely heard it over the Soldier’s screams, but she did. “When he is done, tell him he has two missions: Insight, and the girl. I want to see what will happen.” The machine whirred to a stop and lifted away from him. The Soldier stared blankly at the ceiling, panting, sweating, and dazed. A guard harshly shook her, making her look at him. He pointed to her, then to the Soldier, then back to her. He said loudly, as if that would make her hear him.
“You watch him.” She merely looked at him blankly. She still had a firm grip on the Soldier’s hand, and tears were still dripping down her face. The Soldier grunted and sat up, nearly falling out of the chair. Moving quickly, she gripped his flesh arm and steadied him, giving him a small smile when he looked at her sharply, eyes full of distrust. She rubbed her tear-stained cheeks and motioned for him to stand. Giving wary looks to the guards in the room, he follow her wishes and stood, towering over her as he always did.
“Soldier,” one of the technicians said, coming over to him and handing him a file. “This is one of your new missions. She is your other. You are to keep her safe from harm. She is deaf and dumb, so do not expect much.” The Soldier regarded her with new interest now before nodding. “You leave for the mission tomorrow at dawn.” The rough guard stepped forward.
“This way,” he said gruffly, turning and walking out the door. The Soldier looked down at her, and she looked back up at him, before he bent down and picked her up, carrying her as he followed the guard. The two were placed in a room that held even less than the room she had left earlier that day had. When the two of them were alone again, he watched her warily from the single chair in the room while she sat rigidly at the foot of the bed. Neither said anything, but she was quickly getting bored.
“Vy dolzhny spat',” he said curtly. (You need to sleep.) She merely looked at him. He pointed at her, then the bed. She looked at him, then at the bed, and nodded. She scooted back to where the pillow was and crawled under the covers, barely making much of a lump. After settling down for several minutes, but being unable to sleep, she sat up with a huff. The Soldier looked at her blankly, only raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Pulling the threadbare blanket off of the cot, she walked over to the Soldier and climbed up into his lap. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and laid her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and sighing in contentment. The Soldier was stiff, not moving a muscle other than his chest as he breathed. She could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest, and she laid a hand gently over the where it was located. She began tapping out something on it, giving him a message. When she was done, he gave her a tense nod and settled back against the back of the chair, allowing them both to be more comfortable. Satisfied and content with her new position, she slipped off to sleep, only waking when the Soldier moved her to the cot before he left for his mission. He laid her down gently, trying not to wake her, and made sure the blanket covered her small form. Once he was satisfied with her position, he looked her over. As she started to drift off again, she felt a light pressure on the top of her head. “YA vernus' k vam, kotenok.” With that, he walked out of the room on his silent feet, and she returned to dreamland with a small smile on her face. (I will come back to you, kitten.)