Cell Mate

48 1 0
                                    

(Two Years Later)

I stared at the tray of food in front me with hard eyes, filled with anger and pain. I sat on the ground with my hands chained to the wall, my back against it and my knees to my chest.

My greasy hair hung in a mess around my face and the mask they never removed stayed in its place, resting on my nose. I was still in my leather attire from forever ago. They tried to get me to change, take the mask off and fix my hair but I never let them get close enough.

I only ate when I felt as though my stomach was going to eat itself and even then it was barely anything.

I didn't get many visitors anymore, Blondie gave up about a year and a half ago and Red kept her distance. There were barely any other prisoners besides me, when someone else was here they weren't here long.

I heard people coming down the hall and I straightened my back out. Two guards came down the corridor, dragging a man behind them. He was dressed similar to me, his hair was long for man's.

They threw him in the cell across from me and I watched the whole interaction from the wall. He tried to get up and run out before they shut the door but didn't succeed.

He grunted and punched the cement wall with his left fist. At first I was confused until I saw the flash of silver. I glanced down at my arm, identical. Of course I didn't say anything, I just watched him.

He eventually sat down and leaned against the wall. Why didn't they chain him? Maybe they considered me more of a threat?

We made eye contact through the bars and held it for a long time, before I broke it and turned away. It was dark outside and I wanted to try to sleep.

I didn't bother crawling up on the bed, I just turned over to face the wall and laid down on my side. I curled up and put my head on my arm. my metal arm was completely exposed and shining in the moonlight. The cement got cold through the dirty leather and I shivered.

I woke up a couple of hours later screaming and quickly scrambled up.

"Can you shut up?" The man whined from his own cell. His voice was rough and low, with a bit of a Russian accent.

I didn't say anything but decided to give up on sleep for tonight. I stared at him through the bars, trying to read something in his eyes. Nothing. Not a thing.

I saw something and it triggered a memory in my own mind. Bucky. Who in the hell is that?

I grabbed my notebook and quickly wrote it down under Steve, Natasha, Peggy and Soldier. I didn't know who those people were or what 'soldier' meant but I wrote them down anyway.

"What is that?" He asked lowly.

I looked up and shut the book, "My notebook."

"Why?"

"I don't remember anything from earlier than three years ago. So when I get a memory flash, I write down whatever I can." I responded softly.

"Oh." "What all have you remembered?" He continued.

I hesitated to tell the stranger, I took a deep breath. "Steve. Natasha. Peggy. Soldier. And Bucky. I don't know who any of those people are but apparently my mind does." I said, little hope in my voice.

He didn't say anything after that, so I didn't either.

...

I eventually drifted off last night, leaning my head against the bed with my knees to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. When I woke up, the man across from me was asleep in the same position as I but his legs were spread out.

He looked somewhat peaceful, not really. His eyebrows were knit together in concentration and worry and his lips formed a hard line. His hair was shiny from how greasy and dirty, there was obvious dirt on his face that I could now see in the natural light of day.

I cracked my neck and slowly stood up, still chained to the wall. I looked out the barred window, the scenery was a beautiful lake that shimmered in the sun light and a forest here and there with mountains in the distance.

I yawned and sat down on the bed, I stared at and studied the chains on my wrists. My flesh wrist was blue and purple and black and red, and so tender just barely moving brought pain. But the pain was distant, I knew it was there and I knew it hurt but at the same time it didn't hurt a bit. My metal wrist on the other hand, was fine.

I took a deep breath, I put my feet up on the bed and scooted back against the wall. I put my knees up and rested my arms on them, I put my head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.

I started humming an old Russian lullaby I picked up during my time at HYDRA, "Спи, маленький ребенок. Не позволяй ужасам преследовать тебя. Они никогда не остановятс. Если. Они. Начинать." I hummed and sang softly to myself, mostly hummed.

After a minute or two of the humming a deep voice joined in, I stopped to hear it better. The voice was coming from the man in the other cell, I started again and our rough, tired, low voices sang in harmony until the lullaby came to an end.

We stared at each toned threw the bars, "How do know that?" I asked softly.

He didn't say anything for a minute and I didn't push, it took me a year and a half to start talking again. From what I do remember from my time at HYDRA, it was hell on earth. Filled with nothing but pain and blood, rarely mine. I tried to not think about it and keep it behind me, not that I ever really moved.

His mouth opened, "I used to...Russian. I used to live in Russia." He eventually said.

"Me too." I said, putting my head back again.

There was silence for a little while, a comfortable silence where I closed my eyes. I heard him move and they popped open and my head jerked in his direction, he was getting on the bed.

"What's your name?" He asked, lowly, staring me down.

"Don't have one." I responded, he just stared. HYDRA memories flooded back, particularly ones about names they would give me. 'Soldier', 'Girl', 'Whore', '2' and many more but never a real name.

"Soldier." I muttered, but he heard me. "That's the only one I've ever known." I added.

"How many times do I have to tell you, that is not your name." A man's voice sounded from down the hall. Blondie. His voice wasn't hopeful like normal, it was hurt with no hope.

He came into view in front of my cell, "I'm glad you two have met." He smiled a little, the man gave him a confused look and I rolled my eyes. "Your Lyla Rose."

I groaned, "No i'm not! I don't know who that is!" I said loudly, I covered my face with my hands and groaned again.

"And you, you are Bucky." Blondie said, pointing at the strange man.

"You're Bucky?!" "You're Lyla?!" We said at the same time.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: Hey;) So, sorry for the short chapter and semi-late chapter. Hope you enjoyed it!!!

Always (BuckyxOC)Where stories live. Discover now