H A I L H Y D R A || J. B. Barnes

t w e n t y - f i v e

Becky's first moments conscious were filled with pain. Her forehead was throbbing, her muscles were aching. She opened her eyes and groaned, finding it difficult to recall where she was or why she was there.

When the girl opened her eyes, she sat back slowly, her head had been between her knees. Beck realized she was leaning against something hard. Upon looking to her left, Becky saw that her metal arm had been trapped beneath some sort of machine.

"Hey, cap!" Becky heard someone say faintly. Her body was still situated forward, her legs were off to the side. The only thing holding her up was her metal arm.

Beck clocked Steve and Sam entering the room she was in. She used her flesh arm to weakly pull her legs underneath herself, the small movement feeling monumental to her tired body.

"Steve?" Becky questioned, using her flesh arm to lean against her leg. Beck let her head down, away from the blaring lights. She was bracing herself, for the rejection.

This was a woman who had imagined this moment in her head over and over for the past two years, what it would be like to see Steve again. In every version, she had been rejected. Because she wasn't worth it anymore, she wasn't good enough. Becky had fallen so far.

"Which Becky am I talking to?" Rogers asked his old friend, his arms crossed. He had to be sure she wasn't the Winter Soldier anymore, that the programming had worn off.

Becky looked up and wracked her brain for something she could say to convince him she wasn't being controlled anymore. This was a surprise to her. He had not only used her name, but called her Becky. With warmth and affection in his tone.

She's playing her cards close to her chest. But Becky has wonder in her eyes for one of the first times since the 40's.

Out of all the ways she imagined Steve reacting to her, complete and utter acceptance wasn't one of them. When you feel ashamed of something—which Becky really, really does— you project that onto your loved ones. You picture them hating you for what you've done.

"Your mom's name was Sarah," Beck said the first thing that came to her mind. But a moment later, she smiled. "You used to wear newspapers in your shoes," Becky stated while chuckling, the memory coming back as she thought of Sarah Rogers. She still had that same smirk on her face.

And maybe she'd shown off. But after every thing, she never expected Steve's love to stay throughout.

She shows off because if Steve still thinks she's worth all of that, after everything, she's got to prove him right.

If she can show Steve that she's Becky Barnes, that she's someone good, maybe one day she'll believe it herself.

"You can't read that in a museum," Steve replied, a small smile making its way onto his face. Maybe this was the Becky he knew. She had to be in there somewhere. Steve would pull her out, get his best friend back.

"Just like that, we're supposed to be cool?" Sam asked in an alarmed tone. He had already dealt with the winter soldier twice. He didn't want to underestimate her, put them in danger.

As if a switch had been flipped, the situation flooded back into Beck's mind. She remembered why she was here, what happened in the room. The terror came back. "What did I do?" Becky asked, her voice slightly above a whisper. Her eyes were trained forward as she strained her memory.