Steve rogers x y/n

Chapter 22- prepare

Hours before I had fallen into a deep sleep, the first rest I had in days, I heard the man who called himself James stirring on his cot. I knew these weren't comfortable but I hadn't known anything else as opposed to a few hours ago. I laid on my back. Staring into the ceiling, trying to grasp onto a memory, or anything at this point.

I look to my ankle to see a monitor, what was that there for? Maybe to track me, but even then, I'm in a cell, why would they need that.

I sighed not being able to find an answer to anything. The stirring had stopped, I assumed he had finally fallen asleep, thank god, because that was annoying.
I found myself lost in the cracks of the concrete above me, counting the faults spreading across it.

And before I knew it I was slowly slipping into a much needed, deep sleep.
__________________________
I awoke to the sound of a *buzz* coming from the cell door, I sat up eyeing the man across from me. I could tell my face was numb. No expression, no emotion. But not his, his was ridden with all kinds of emotions. Worry, pain, sorrow, even anger, all at once.

I felt a jolt on my body as one of the guards dragged me to the edge of the door. Doing the same to the man. It's like he knew what was coming, he could tell.
But I didn't. I didn't know where I was, who I was, or what was happening. They handcuffed his arms behind him, as they did to me but in the front.

The guards pulled my arms, walking me forcefully down a hallway. I knew I'd have bruises from their hands later.

I could hear the man, James. Struggling behind me, trying to get away from them. I turned my head to look at him as the guard roughly took my cheek in his hands almost yelling, "глаза вперед солдат!"
(Eyes forward soldier!)

I complied remembering what happened yesterday. My hair was still a mess. My cheeks covered in cuts and bruises. My body almost giving out every second I walked.

We walked a while further as I took in the people who made their way through the halls. Mostly men, not many women. And if there was they all usually wore a lab coat or looked like an agent.
They stopped us walking at a steel door. I could hear James struggling harder now, what was behind this door that he was so afraid of?

I looked at the name tag beside the door, "Rumlow."

Why do I know that name? Hmm, probably nothing.
They opened the door, unlocking several deadbolts. it squeaked as it slowly peeled open. I tried to look inside but before I could I was shoved into the room. My back colliding with the cool temperature of the concrete.

James was thrown in after, not falling as I had. He rushed over to my side, helping me up as I still had fear in my eyes, who was he?

"что это за комната?" (What is this room?)

I asked knowing he mostly likely had the answer.
He signed knowing his answer wouldn't only make the tension worse.
"боевая комната" (the fighting room.)

My eyes grew wide as I heard what he said. If I was right they wanted us to fight each other, and I was no match for him.

"почему мы здесь ?! пожалуйста, знай, что у нее нет шансов против меня!"
(Why are we in here?! Please you know she doesn't stand a change against me!"

He yelled looking at the small camera at the top of the twelve foot wall.

"мистер Барнс. это не моя проблема. нам нужно знать, что она вам подойдет, особенно зимний солдат."
(Mr. Barnes. it's not my problem. we need to know that she will suit you, especially the winter soldier)

I grew more and more concerned. Who was the winter soldier? Who was I 'suited' for, and why would they need to know this.

The speaker went quiet for a long time, James trying to distance himself as much as he could from me. Backing into a corner as much as he could.

Then the speaker shrieked, revealing a man talking.

"Longing"

I saw James trying to grasp everything in his reach as his eyes shot closed.

"Rusted"

I backed away in fear of what was going to happen next.

"Furnace"
"Daybreak"

He became more and more agitated. His eyes slowly lost its color. As if the words were draining the life from his body.
"пожалуйста, прости меня"
(Please forgive me)

He muttered, not thinking I could hear him. But what was he apologizing for?

"Seventeen"
"Benign"
"Nine"

He said them faster now. I also crowding into a corner, Afraid.
"извини кукла. мне так жаль!"
(I'm sorry doll, I'm so so sorry!)

"Homecoming."

His screams I'm sure could be heard from wherever we were,miles away. He fell to the ground, almost digging his fingers into his scalp.

And finally the man said one last word before I'd lost him.

"Freight car."

The screaming automatically stopped. I could hear his breathing slow and his eyes were now jet black.
This was not the James I knew, even if I had known him for less than 24 hours. The James I never came to check on me when I was a complete stranger. And he was there to hold me. This wasn't that James.

The mans voice could be heard from overhead.
"солдат?"
(Soldier?)

His eyes darkened if that was even possible. He held a blank stare directly toward him, "Я готов отвечить."
(Ready to comply.)

It was quiet for a moment. The air thick, almost suffocating. Before I heard the five words that I never wanted to hear.

"бороться с ней ... до смерти"
(Fight her...to the death.)