FOURTEEN

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Hydra had been careful with the missions they sent the Winter Soldier on. After his last big mission they couldn't afford to lose their best asset.

Mila was just happy she had her papa back. Her regular training schedule had resumed. Some days James would join her for her laps around the base.

Yana had returned to her regular duties around the base, working on Mila's serum, prepping the labs for experiments, simple things like that.

The atmosphere in the underground base had shifted drastically. People just let the Soldier roam around, afraid he might lash out at someone. The only person who didn't show fear around his was the Old Man, but he was in America, so the Soldier finally had a sense of freedom for the first time in a long time.

Because the Old Man was out of the base, no one cared that Mila and her papa didn't stay in their cell. They still complied better than ever and never fought with their handlers. Mila and James stayed in Yana's room now and Mila couldn't be happier. Sure some nights it was a little cramped, it was just because everyone was a cuddler. 

Mila was happier than she had been in a long time. She was still confused by what was happening between her papa but she was happy he was happy. Spending more time with Yana outside of her office meant new things. She taught her to read and write, braid her hair and other basic things she was lacking in her life. Her papa was spending more time with her than he used to be able to, he still taught her Romanian and told her stories about the world, in a less violent way than he had seen.

James couldn't remember a time in his life where he was this free and this happy. Of course he still had the occasional mission where he would be gone for a day or two and everything Hydra put him in was still there. He wanted to keep what he had so he complied and would be rewarded with his daughter and Yana.

After a long training session with Irina, Mila skipped the left turn she was supposed to make and continued down the hall. She kept walking until she reached her destination. Her cold hand moved up to the metal door handle, pulling it down. She stepped into the room, a wave of cold air washing over her. A chill moved down her spine, she hadn't been in this room for a few months.

Mila ran her fingers over the cracks in the cell walls. Memories she pushed as far back as she could resurfaced. Images of dripping blood like a broken faucet, bruises that turned an ugly green and bloodied and bruised knuckles clouded her vision.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, it felt too fast. A black bucket laying under the cot pulled her attention away from the empty wall. Mila wrapped her fingers around the clasp and pulled it out from under the mattress. Opening the crate she felt her chest contort and squish her lital organs. Mila couldn't catch her breath.

It was her crate with all of her personal belongings. Her guns and knives were placed strategically on the top, easy access if need be. A black training unitard was under the weapons. She had grown out of it, her body growing with age and time. Underneath all of it was her ballet outfit. She held the stained leotard up to the dim lights.

Images of men with bags over their heads enter her head. More men moved in, no bags on just their face. Mila remembered each of them. Their faces, the way their voice sounded right before she pulled the trigger. It haunted her, maybe not in the same way it haunted her papa but it was still there.

Her lips quivered as she tried to keep the tears back. No emotion. Her breathing was shallow and short. Tears blurred her vision as her hands were becoming shaky. She dropped the leotard on the ground and stood up. Mila pushed her hands to her face, running her index fingers over her red brows, trying to calm herself down. She tried to remember what Yelena said about slowing her breathing down.

That of course didn't help. It was all too much too soon. The betrayal she felt from Yelena, the abuse she had gone through, the lives she had taken. It was coming back to her too fast to have been pushed to the back of her mind. As if her mind was playing tricks on her, allowing her to think she was okay, the past was behind her. When really it was just below the surface, waiting for a skipping stone to ripple the waters.

The skin around her eyebrows were sore and tender from her harshly rubbing them. Mila slowly walked over to the cot, trying to breath normally. She couldn't catch her breath. Kneeling on the hard mattress, Mila leaned onto the wall, running one hand over the old, peeling butterfly sticker above the pillow. Her other hand still rubbing her eyebrow. 

The sparkles felt nice against her cool fingertips. The sensation calmed her down. She was able to catch her breath and feel her chest expand. Mila took a deep breath in and released it, a small smile on her face.

She was proud of herself. She was able to do it on her own. Mila didn't always need her papa to watch over her and baby her. She was able to take care of herself. Her panic attack set her back from what she originally came here for but she didn't mind. Mila gently pulled back the sticker from the wall, keeping it in it's perfect shape.

She placed the bloodied leotard back in the crate, locked it and pushed it under the cot. Taking one last look at the cell, she turned on her heel and left the cold room. No longer graced by the welcoming presence of a beautiful butterfly. 

***

Yana sat at her office desk, scribbling away in a notebook. She tapped her heel against the floor every few seconds, something she did to calm herself down. Her fingers were going numb from the amount of writing she had been doing.

She let out an exasperated sigh, throwing her pencil hard onto the desk. Yana rested her hand in her hands, taking a deep breath.

"What's wrong" James asked from the couch, a book in his hand. 

"I don't understand why this isn't working" she sighed. He got up from his spot on the grey couch, walking over to Yana placing his hands on her shoulders. They hadn't really talked about whatever it was that was going on between them. Since the day he got back from that horrible mission they had kissed a few more times, but most of them were accidents. 

Yana wanted something from this, she wanted James but she knew he wasn't ready for that. He was an assassian and had been for the last 60 years. That messes with people. She wasn't going to push him into something he wasn't ready for.

"What isn't working" he replied, peeking over her shoulder to take a look at her papers.

"Mila's serum. I've been able to extend the period of time in between each dose but nothing is helping take the pain away. She screams in agony every time she takes it. It's horrible and there's nothing I can do about it" she moved her hands away from her face, letting her head hit the table top.

"Hey look at me" he spun the back of her chair to face him. He kneeled in front of her, still reaching her height in the chair. His metal hand and flesh hands brought different temperatures to her kneecaps.

"Everyday you work so hard to keep her alive. Mila is alive because of you. I know you want to stop the pain, I would take away her pain in a heartbeat if I could but you can't be too hard on yourself for saving a little girl's life everyday and I thank you for that" he reassured her.

Yana nodded her head. She placed her warm hands over his. "I know but, it's so hard seeing her in that much pain. I wish I could stop it".

He stood up, pulling her head into him. Yana rested her head on his chest, breathing heavily, trying to keep calm. "She deserves better than this James" she mumbled into his shirt.

"I know and I wish I could give that to her, but I can't. We can't" he bent back down to her level. Yana leaned her forehead against his. He leaned into her and connected their lips. It was no accident this time. 

Their lips fit together like puzzle pieces. His hands cupped her cheeks and her fingers tangled together in his long hair. It was a fiery kiss but it was filled with so much passion and love, even if they didn't know it yet.

She pulled apart, slightly out of breath. Their foreheads still resting together. "I know, but we can try".

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