A/N : Thanks for sticking with me, please let me know if you want to be tagged in this, I shall be taking requests from here on out for anything - including how you think a story should go or where you would like to see it go.
Word count: 1609
Warnings: um... not sure there are any... (Will be smut/mentions of smut in future) Time changes/flash backs are Italicized and spaced/separated from rest of text -- --
There he was.
The man that Hydra had saved. All you only knew was that they had found him bleeding in the snow in some ravine. His arm was missing and bleeding out onto the floor. You eagerly moved to the next room where you could get prepped to go into the surgical room he was being wheeled into.
Your parents were a part of Hydra and you’d grown up around it all, but they still hid something from you.
At this point you didn’t care, you were just happy you got to help with certain medical procedures. This was one of those particular situations.
Being at the top of your class in engineering you had created something, and your superiors were giving you this chance to prove that your device would work.
They got you the best materials and let you put it together yourself. Now having worked on it for days, almost months now you were ecstatic to put it to use.
A vibranium arm.
--
--
You startled awake in bed. This was the fifth time that night that you’d started dreaming about the past, from your time in HYDRA.
Upon getting dressed properly you immediately walked down to the therapist, which Tony had suggested, in the building. You’d been seeing the lady for a while now, it seemed she was right about you needing an “outlet” for your past.
“So what brings you so early Y/N?” You’d just sat down in the chair opposite her as she looked over her glasses at you.
“I’ve been dreaming again. ‘Bout the past. When I was with…” You went silent.
It was always hard starting these sessions off, but once you got past the start you would just ramble and it always felt like you were re-living the experiences.
The therapist would question you of course, or ask for clarification on a word or two when your accent would become too thick, or you would even slip into another language entirely.
“It’s okay Y/N. You’re safe here, you can say it. I’ll wait.” She leaned forward some and gazed over her glasses just a little more.
“From when I was with. The Winter Soldier.”
--
--
You’d been excited to see this man, the first real person you’d seen in a long time that wasn’t HYDRA. He was drifting in and out of consciousness when you walked up to him at the surgery table. The doctors would be in the room soon, but you took the time to smile down at him. His steely blue eyes looked up at you almost in a type of critical panic.
He took a look around, his whole body seemed to ache as he moved and you reached out to put a hand against him putting him back down on the table.
--
--
“I told him he would be safe.” It was a good ten minutes into the session and you were already crying. You repeated the sentence leaning forward gripping your temples. “I told him he would be SAFE!!” You screamed and the therapist quickly set her notes down and rushed to your side to comfort you.
Once you calmed some, still sniffling, you continued.
--
--
His focus returned to you and he reached for his dog tags pulling them over his head with some pain and holding them to his chest. You frowned as he looked from them to you and back. He was out of breathe, the pain must have been so severe.
You’d felt that pain before.
With a frown you reached out to his chest where he gripped the tags. He gingerly handed them over then gestured for you to come closer.
You did. You leaned in and listened carefully.
“Get these to the Steve - Steve Rogers. Tell the punk he can have it all and that I’m here in HYDRA. Please he needs to know-“
“Hey! What are you whispering? Get away from him ma’am.” A soldier had come over and yelled at him, then pulled you away. The tags were still warm as you held them, gripping them almost as tightly as he had.
“What did he give you ma’am? Give it over.” Without even looking at the tags you gripped them harder and kept them close to your chest.
HYDRA wasn’t good? This man came here to be fixed, helped and he was wanting you to send a death message. A will.
“Ma’am-“The soldier started again reaching out a bit more. “No.” He moved to question you and with a glare you repeated yourself.
“I said. No. Now Leave.” Pushing past him you moved back towards the man on the table his eyes watching the soldiers’ movements as he left.
“I don’t know if I can get these to Steve, but…” pausing you looked down at him, his eyes so hopeful. “I’ll keep them safe until I can get them to him. You’ll be safe. I’ll keep you safe, always.”
With that you lifted the tags and put them over your head and let them fall down onto your chest.
--
--
You were still crying, your eyes burning from the salty tears. Sniffling a few more times you continued fiddling with the tags. You’d met the Steve Rogers he had been talking about only just recently, but when you moved to give him the tags he said that you should keep them.
So you did.
They were all you had left of him. You didn’t know what HYDRA had done with him after you’d gotten out. Your only regret is that you couldn’t get him out.
“It’s alright Y/N, take your time, we’ve covered a lot this session.” You looked up to see her stretching out her wrist, the book on her lap covered from top to bottom, side to side with her little messy cursive writing that seemed to blur together.
Leaning back in the deep chair, pulling your legs up and continuing to move the tags in your fingers you continued. There wasn’t much left, but you continued anyways.
--
--
The weight of the tags was foreign to you, but you worked with it. Each time they hit your chest from beneath your shirt you remembered the look on his face. The desperate look of dread and fear, then the glimmer of hope that came to him when you said you’d keep them safe. Keep him safe.
You continued to silently work on getting the heavy vibranium arm onto him, you were careful to situate it just right after having worked on the wiring and connecting the proper nerve paths.
“Blow torch.” The head doctor asked for it and you froze up. The arm was situated and it was time to properly attach it, but a blow torch?
“That won’t be needed I have a system in place right here.” You pointed anxiously to the shoulder of the arm. “It heats and singes the metal to the skin, it’s much safer than a blow torch sir. Plus it’s already a function of the arm. If you use that you will damage the circuits, the heaters and-“
You hadn’t noticed, but the doctor had motioned for the soldiers to pull you away from the table. As they did they cut you off and you started fighting back. Screaming, yelling, and kicking. Until they finally sedated you.
Everything went black.
--
--
Your tears had covered your face, neck, ears, even your chest. You weren’t hyperventilating, but you were crying extensively. You looked up taking a breather clutching the tags and reading the clock.
You’d been there almost 2 hours and you could hear someone outside shifting in the waiting chairs. You composed yourself quickly, whipping the tears from yourself. The therapist – Ms. Jane Rubre – was quick to finish her last few sentences and stand.
“Are you sure that’s all you want to talk about today Y/N? You haven’t been back here in almost half a year.” She looked up at you almost pleading as if she was devoted to your life and wanted every piece of information.
Made sense that she was the therapist that Tony had referred you to. Nodding and composing yourself, you face becoming a blank slate, your tears gone, and your back straight, you thanked her for her services and left.
“Please come back again Y/N, preferably sooner than half a year.” She pleaded to you as you left, the only sign you gave her that you might come back was the slight nod you gave before leaving the room.
The next person went in and you continued through the halls and up endless flights of stairs to find the gym and pool area. You made quick work of your locker and clothes, putting your bathing suit on. As soon as you had you locker locked and the bathing suit on you rushed to the pool side and dove in.
The water was always where you went to cool off, literally and mentally.
Somedays were better than others, not as stressful, or better memories, but these ones. Your first encounter with him was always painful.
You started doing laps, the AI Jarvis keeping track of your vitals and how many laps you did, this being a feature that you didn’t like at first, but Tony had told you that he wasn’t going to change.
Whilst swimming you thought on it – the past that is.
After trying to defend him, being sedated and waking up in a cell it was the next few years that were painful for the both of you. Not hours, not days, not weeks. Years.
Years of pain, suffering, and manipulation.
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