Nightingale's Song (My MCU #3)

Chapter 15

Her original intention had been to go to her floor and wallow in self-pity for a bit. To just be alone and grieve for what she'd lost. She tried to tell herself it was enough that he lived. That he was himself again. That Hydra would never make him their puppet again. But she had spent the last seventy years of her life surviving solely on the hope that she would be reunited with her love. If he didn't want her, if he never came back to her, then what purpose did she have? What was her life worth without him in it?

It was that mindset she found herself as she arrived at the detention floor. The twins had long been moved to a lighter security floor so there was no one but Anna and her dear Doctor on the floor. She paused before opening the cell. "Jarvis lock down access to this floor."

"Of course, miss."

It wouldn't keep someone with a higher clearance out, but it would keep a random SHIELD agent from stumbling across her talk with the Doctor. She would be the first person he'd seen since his incarceration, all of his interrogations having been done from the other side of the mirrored glass.

His head jerked in her direction as she opened the door and shut it behind her. Fear flashed over his face before he did his best to school his features. The emotion was still very much visible in his eyes however.

Anna leaned against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. "Hello, Doctor. Miss me?"

His jaw clenched but he didn't answer.

"Sorry no one's been to see you, but they've left what happens to you up to me and I've just been too busy to be bothered. But now I'm bored and I think it's time we had a little talk."

Still receiving no response, Anna stepped forward and grabbed his hand. With two quick movements she broke several of the bones. He screamed in pain and jerked his hand, trying to get it away from her. Anna only tightened her grip which had him screaming in renewed agony.

Finally, she released him and he cradled the injured hand against his chest. "Would you like to know what one of the greatest ironies is, Doctor? I am the soldier you always hoped to create."

His brow furrowed as he looked her over.

She shrugged. "Well, not exactly. But I could be with the right training." In a flash, she grabbed his uninjured hand and snapped two of the fingers. "I am stronger." Another movement and another finger broke. "I am faster." Snap. Another. "I can climb." And the last.

She dropped his hand and took a step back, pulling out the blade she always kept on her person. She twirled the blade as she talked to him. "And with all the free time I had I studied. Topics you wouldn't think related to much of anything, taught me more than you can possibly imagine. Oh, and did I mention my hearing? I would sit in my cell and listen to discussions ten rooms away. Just think what you could have done with me in the field."

She suddenly stilled and pointed at him with her knife. "Oh, that's right. You couldn't brainwash me. No mindless killing machine here." With the reminder of Bucky, any desire she had to play with the Doctor disappeared. She closed the distance between them and ran the blade down the side of his face just as she had done on the plane. The corner of her mouth twitched up when he screamed.

"If it's any consolation, Doctor, consider this an experiment. See, I know exactly how long it took you to heal on the plane. But for the first time when I look at you I see gray hair, wrinkles. You seem to have aged several years in the months since you came here. Which leads me to reason that you were dosing yourself with a serum on a fairly regular basis. So now, I have to know how that effects your healing."

You perched on the table across from him and watch the blood flow down the side of his face. His healing had slowed considerably.

"Why do you care?" he finally growled out, obviously tired of her just staring at him.