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"It was her. She looked right at me and she didn't even know me," Rogers said, looking at the ground, his mind churning with possibilities, grief, and shock at the same time.

"How is that even possible? It was like, 70 years ago," Wilson asked, confused as to how she could even still be alive.

"Zola. Becky's whole unit was captured in '43, Zola experimented on her. Whatever he did helped Becky survive the fall. They must have found her and..." Steve said, piecing together what must have happened 70 years ago. His own best friend had been captured and he flew a plane into the water thinking he ended Hydra.

"None of that is your fault, Steve," Romanoff said, still suffering from a bullet wound.

"Even when I had nothing, I had Becky."

***

The Winter Soldier sat in her chair at the bank. A scientist was working on repairing her arm, the overload of electricity damaging it.

But instead of sitting blankly like usual, Winter was thinking about what that man called her. Becky. What kind of name was that?

In the back of her mind, something ached. It begged to be freed, to be seen. For the first time, Winter's mind hurt.

As she thought about it again, something clicked. Images flashed before her eyes, voices she didn't recognize entered her head. Winter leaned forward to try and see them better.

There's an image of an older man who's balding. He's short and has round glasses. "Miss. Barnes," he says in a German accent. Over the entire image, there's an odd film.

Winter looked to the side as another memory came into her mind. Her head was throbbing with the effort to produce these images.

A train appeared. And then it's Winter in her own body, looking over at... the same man from the bridge.

"Becky, no!" He was screaming desperately for her. Rogers reached his hand toward her as something she was holding snapped. Winter could hear her own scream.

The scene changed once again. This time Winter was barely conscious. She was being dragged through snowy and icy terrain. A Russian soldier was ahead of her and the lower half of her left arm was gone. There was a red trail in the snow.

The scientist from before spoke as a new image appeared. "The procedure has already started," he said as the image displayed a handful of doctors. They came at Winter with needles, she could still feel the pain.

Drilling filled Winter's ears as the scene of someone drilling at what was left of her arm appeared.

Winter grunted and sat up more, the images... or memories flooded her mind. They were fragmented, never complete or full. She tried to grab onto them, hold them in her mind. But they flashed by so quickly. It was overwhelming, confusing.

"You are to be the new fist of Hydra," the short scientists narrated as Winter saw herself wake up in a hospital bed. She lifted both of her arms and compared the metal with the flesh. A doctor with a clipboard came to further examine it and she choked him. Put her hand around his throat and squeezed.

H A I L   H Y D R A || J. B. BarnesUnde poveștirile trăiesc. Descoperă acum