Chapter 3
A guard burst into the room, the door banging so hard against the wall that the whole room shook. She woke up with a start and looked at him with wide eyes. “Let’s go, brat!” he snapped, grabbing her arm harshly and yanking her out of the room. Alarms were going off, and lights were flashing. What was going on? Had something happened on the Soldier’s mission? Was he alright? Questions flew through her head so fast, she couldn’t even process them enough to worry about them. She was dragged down the maze of hallways and shoved into the back of a black van. “Get on the floor!” the guard barked, shoving her down into the bottom compartment and holding her there. He and five other men climbed in around her, slamming the doors as the van took off. She was shaking slightly and fighting to keep tears from flowing. She was cramped in the tiny floor space and tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but one of the guards kicked her in the back with his steel-toed boot.
“Don’t move!” he snapped at her. Not wanting to get kicked again, she kept still, even as she was losing feeling in her legs. She didn’t know what was going on, and only prayed that the Soldier was both alive and coming back for her, if he could find her. Obviously something had happened that caused Hydra to move so suddenly and had them all in a panic. But what? And more importantly, what was going to happen to her?
“I don’t see why we’re keeping the kid,” one of the guards muttered. “She’ll only be in the way.”
“You idiot, they’ve been training her for years!” another one barked. “She’ll be their next assassin! The next Winter Soldier.”
“She just a little girl. What could she do?”
“Knock you off your feet, for one thing. I saw her flip a full-grown man once. She’s almost as good as the Asset.” While she appreciated the compliment, she didn’t want to become an assassin like the Winter Soldier. She just wanted a family, someone to love her and care for her, and for her to love and care for in return. She just wanted to be loved. Suddenly, the van jerked sharply as the driver stomped on the brakes, cursing loudly.
“What? What happened?”
“Look who it is!” the driver said, probably pointing out the front window.
“Well, would you look at that? Looks like he made it after all. C’mon, they’ll be wanting him back at the base.” Three of the guards climbed out and slammed the door. She didn’t dare move from where she was on the floor; two other guards and the driver were still inside the vehicle, and they probably wouldn’t like her moving either. The driver cursed again and scrambled around. The two guards jumped out and began firing their guns. The driver screamed in time with the sound of broken glass, then all was silent. The door behind her was opened suddenly, and she curled in on herself. A gentle hand touched her back, and she heard a voice she didn’t think she’d hear again.
“Miss menya, katenok?” (Miss me, kitten?) She jerked her head up and smiled so widely her cheeks began to hurt. She couldn’t move her legs from the cut-off blood flow, but she did sit up and hug him tightly. He gave a small laugh, something she’d never heard from him, and picked her up, holding her to him tightly. “Vy raneny?” (Are you injured?) She shook her head. “Khorosho. Gotovy li vy bezhat'?” (Good. Are you ready to run?) She pulled back a bit to look at him in confusion. “Mne nuzhno nayti otvety na nekotoryye voprosy. I ya nesu tebya so mnoy.” She smiled and nodded again. He returned her grin with a smile of his own, then turned and walked away from the van. She noticed that the guards and driver were lying on the ground, mostly likely dead, but she couldn’t really bring herself to care. She was leaving. They were leaving. They may not be exactly safe, but they were free. (I need to find some answers. And I’m taking you with me.)
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She had regained use of her legs after about ten minutes of being carried and insisted on being allowed to walk. She could run, too, but for now they were safe. The two were quiet as they ducked through the town. The people were much too busy with their own lives to notice them, plus the Soldier had acquired clothes for them that hid his metal arm and helped her look more like an actual child than a science experiment. He held her hand tightly and weaved through the crowd skillfully. She looked at the city with interested eyes as they walked, but never let her guard down. Hydra could be anywhere, and they weren’t going to just let them go without a fight. He led her down one street and up another, looking for all the world like he had a place to be when really he was just wandering aimlessly. She stumbled over a dip in the pavement, and he spun around to catch her before continuing on. It went on like this for another hour or two, and she kept stumbling over her tired feet.
Finally, he stopped, picked her up, and carried her as he kept going. “YA ne znayu, kuda idti, katenok,” he said quietly into her ear. (I do not know where to go, kitten.) “Oni mogut byt' gde ugodno.” (They could be anywhere.) She squeezed his neck slightly, letting him know that she trusted him. He seemed to relax just a bit before ducking into an alley and cutting down to another street. When night fell, he crept into an abandoned building and set her down. “My budem spat' zdes' segodnya vecherom.” (We will sleep here tonight.) He shrugged off his backpack and laid it down on the ground, rifling through its depths. She sat on the floor cross-legged, watching him curiously. To her surprise, he pulled out a blanket and small pillow and handed them to her. “Son, katenok. My vykhodim utrom.” (Sleep, kitten. We leave in the morning.) And they lived like this for many months. Hydra hadn’t found them yet, or at least she didn’t think they had. Currently, they were living in a run-down apartment in a city in Brazil.
They had been on the run for about a year now. He told her that he remembered his name. He said his name was Bucky, and that she could call him that, but he had no idea what her name was. He wrote down his memories in various journals that got filled up and shoved into a backpack he toted around. She didn’t tell him her name. He still spoke to her in Russian sometimes, but it was also English, and since they were in Brazil at the time, Portuguese. He still called her kitten, but the list of nicknames had expanded over the past few months. Sweetheart, doll, and oddly, mittens. The last one she assumed came from the kitten nickname, but she refused to answer to that one; she liked all of the other nicknames he called her. He only called her mittens to mess with her when he was having a good day. Today was not a good day for her, however. She had caught an illness from one of the village children and was a bit under the weather for the moment. He spent his time trying to keep her comfortable and to get her fever down. She didn’t want to cause any trouble for him; he’d done enough for her as it was. As her fever rose higher and higher, she slipped deeper and deeper into feverish dreams and fitful sleep. The last coherent thought she had was that she hoped that the Soldier wouldn’t decide she was too much of a hassle to keep and leave her.
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Needless to say, Bucky was worried about the girl he’d taken charge of. He still didn’t have a name for her, and he didn’t want to come up with one that wasn’t her name. Also, he didn’t want to start guessing; that would take quite a while on his part. This feeling in deep in his chest that made him want to protect her and care for her was one that he couldn’t explain. He couldn’t remember ever having experienced it before, but sometimes he got flashes of the man on the bridge, the one he had dragged from the river, bloody and beaten and much smaller than he was now when the feeling appeared. The girl moaned pitifully, breaking the Soldier out of his thoughts. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, and she was tossing her head fitfully atop her pillow. The only thing that would get her to stop tossing and turning was when he laid his metal hand against her forehead. The cool metal soothed her fever, and she would rest calmly until his hand heated up again, then he would remove it, and she would start to move again. Finally, Bucky was at the end of his rope. He didn’t know what to do anymore, so he left her in their little house and went into the village to find a doctor for her. After asking around, he finally found the doctor in a hut about a mile down the road. “Por favor, preciso de ajuda,” he said to the man. “Ela está muito doente. Eu não sei como ajudá-la.” He had never spoken so fast in his life, nor had he ever been this worried, that he remembered. (Please, I need help. / She is very sick. I don’t know how to help her.)
“Senhor, por favor, acalme-se. Quem está doente? Onde ela está?” the doctor asked, gathering up his things to follow him. Bucky froze. Who should he say she is? Sister would never be believed, and he was acting too worried for her to be much else. That left only— (Sir, please, calm down. Who is sick? Where is she?)
“Minha filha. Ela não vai acordar, e ela tem uma febre alta. Por favor senhor.” (My daughter. She will not wake up, and she has a high fever. Please, sir.)
“Sim, sim, eu irei. Leve-me para ela.” Bucky couldn’t remember ever being this relieved. He felt a huge weight lift off of his shoulders, and he practically ran back to their little place. He led the man up to her room and knelt down next to her, brushing her hair out of her face. (Yes, yes, I will. Take me to her.)
“Estou de volta, gatinho. Há um homem aqui para olhar para você. Por favor, acorde, boneca.” She moaned pitifully and pressed her sweaty head against his hand. He hissed slightly at how hot she was. (I’m back, kitten. There is a man here to look at you. Please wake up, doll.)
“Pita,” she whimpered. Bucky’s eyes widened. She could speak? She’d never said a word that he could remember. And she thought he was her father? When did—? How—? He couldn’t even finish his thoughts. (Daddy.)
“Eu estou aqui, gatinho. Estou aqui. Não se preocupe. Você vai ficar melhor em breve,” he said gently, holding her hand and looking at the doctor. “Por favor.” (I’m here, kitten. I’m here. Don’t worry. You will be better soon. / Please.)
“Sim, sim, claro. Sabe onde ela poderia ter obtido a doenca a partir de?” the doctor asked as he knelt down next to the girl. (Yes, yes, of course. Do you know where she might have gotten the illness from?)
“Não—não era um menino. Ele ficou doente, há uma semana, e ela brincava com ele. Ele mora duas casas para baixo.” The doctor nodded, his brown eyes focused as he took the girl’s pulse. (It—it was a boy. He got sick a week ago, and she was playing with him. He lives two houses down.)
“Sabe se ele está melhor agora? Quais foram os seus sintomas?” Bucky thought for a minute. (Do you know if he’s better now? What were the symptoms?)
“Sim, ele está bem agora. Eu sei que ele estava com febre e dormi muito, mas eu não tenho certeza se havia outros.” The man nodded again before rifling through his bag. (Yes, he is better now. I know he had a fever and slept a lot, but I’m not sure if there were others.)
“Eu tenho algumas ervas que podem ajudar. Triturá-los e colocá-los em água para ela beber todas as noites. Se ela não é melhor em três dias, venha me encontrar. Vou ficar na cidade.” He handed Bucky some leaves and stood up to leave. (I have some herbs that can help. Grind them and put them in water for her to drink every night. If she is not better in three days, come find me. I’ll stay in town.)
“Eu não tenho dinheiro para pagar,” Bucky said to the man. The doctor turned around and smiled, running a hand through his curly black hair. (I have no money to pay you.)
“Não se preocupe com isso. Eu só quero ajudar as pessoas. Venha me encontrar, se ela não é melhor em breve,” he said with a small smile. Then, he left, leaving Bucky alone with the girl. (Don’t worry about it. I just want to help people. Come find me if she is not better soon.)
“Ne volnuysya, kotenok. Vy budete luchshe v blizhaysheye vremya,” he said quietly to her. “YA budu zabotit'sya o tebe, solnyshko.” (Do not worry, kitten. You’ll be better soon. I’ll take care of you, sunshine.
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When she woke up, she felt as if her head were waiting to explode. She could barely manage to open her eyes, but she did it. “Are you awake, myshka?” a quiet voice asked. She rubbed her eyes slightly to help get them focused. Blinking slowly, she looked up and saw Bucky sitting next to her, smiling a little. She nodded, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “How do you feel, kotenok?” She smiled a bit and pulled his arm to her, cuddling it. “I know you can talk, solnyshko. Come on.” She blinked up at him, big eyes looking at him silently. “Rukavitsy,” he said teasingly. She rolled her eyes. “Come on. I’ll keep bothering up until you do.” She made a sign of drinking water, then pointed at her throat. “Is your throat dry?” She nodded. “I’ll get you some water, but you’re still going to talk.” She nodded. He dug around in his pack and pulled out a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and tilting it towards her. “Take slow sips. You’ve been out for a good while. Don’t want you to upset your stomach.” She took four long, slow sips before pushing his arm away. “Are you going to talk to me now, printsessa?” She nodded. (little mouse/kitten/sunshine/mittens/princess)
“Yes,” she said quietly. A large grin split across his face. She started at the sight of it. He’d never smiled like that before.
“What?” he asked when she jumped.
“You—you’ve never smiled before,” she whispered.
“I’ve never had occasion to. You have a lovely voice, doll. Why wouldn’t you talk?” She shrugged. “C’mon on now, vozlyublennaya. Don’t go silent on me.” (sweetheart)
“I—I don’t—” she stuttered. “It’s—I—I can’t—” She started shaking violently.
“Hey, hey now, myshka, it’s alright. If it’s hard for you to talk about, I won’t ask anymore. It’s alright. Calm down, kotenok. It’s okay.” He began to sing quietly in Russian. It always soothed her a bit. Eventually, she stopped shaking and clung to his arm tightly. He gently picked her up and held her in his lap, still singing. She eventually dropped off to sleep again, but he couldn’t bring himself to move her. “Spokoynoy nochi, moya zvezda,” he said quietly, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head. Eventually, he followed her into the world of sleep. (Good night, my star.)