𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙉 ✮ 𝘯. 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧

{𝟏𝟎} - 𝐍𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐎𝐮𝐭

Hydra Facility

Siberia

April 2014

"LOOK at me, Soldat," Semna ordered. Her voice boomed in the large and empty space surrounding them. She squared her shoulders, raising her chin towards the ceiling. "Am I nothing but a joke to you? Srazis' so mnoy."

The Soldier raised his eyes slowly, peering at her through his hair. Even from across the room, she could see the dark circles around his eyes and the paleness around his lips. His cheeks appeared almost sunken since the last time they sparred only yesterday. Semna had no idea what he was doing at night these days when he wasn't with her, but there had been no way to even find out with her onslaught of recent tasks.

The Winter Soldier remained still, swaying ever so slightly on his feet. Semna rolled her eyes, turning her head over to their commander, Andrik. "I told you, he's not going to fight today. We spent all day yesterday sparring." She began stripping off her equipment despite his disapproving looks. "He is too tired." She sighed heavily. "As am I."

"Bullshit," Andrik barked. Semna rolled her eyes again, unwrapping her wrists. "He is a soldier. Soldiers do not act like this."

"He just needs one day," she argued.

Andrik scoffed.

"If you allow me to act this way when I need rest, why can't he?"

Andrik looked down at her. Though he towered above her by nearly a foot, she refused to ever back down from him. When they met each other for the first time all those years ago, he had attempted to make her submit to him in more ways than one. He had threatened her silently on many occasions in the training room, showing off his belt of gleaming tools that she had never seen him use. He knew that as the lead man in the facility, he could get whatever he wanted from the only girl around.

The first time he tried to make a move on her, Semna flipped him onto his back and pinned him down. Semna had told him that she would rather die by Hydra's hands than be their desirable doll, only there for when they wanted to see her perform. The guards had attempted to shoot her, but Andrik quickly got over his shock and ordered them to spare her life.

This was only the first of many.

Every couple of months, Andrik would perform this exact act, and each time, Semna did the same thing, showing him just how much her skills had really improved since her initiation. Each time, Andrik seemed charmed by her disapproval and disgust towards him. Semna never understood his train of thought; he always seemed determined for a different outcome. He, like many others, had underestimated Semna's ability to withstand a fight.

"Fine," he finally said. "You can have today. Get him back into shape for tomorrow, dear." He smiled, walking from the room with his guards in tow. Semna had still never seen the guards' faces or heard them speak, but had certainly sensed their dread every time Andrik told them not to shoot her.

It was a mutual feeling.

She sighed and turned back to where the Soldier stood, still motionless. More of his hair had fallen in front of his face, long and greasy and disheveled. Semna had suggested countless times that he let her cut it for him, but he was stubborn with his ways. He still looked as young and as handsome as he was when she was seventeen, and got dragged into this room for their first spar session—or better known to Semna as the first time she was punched in the face by a metal fist.

Semna approached him slowly and placed her hand lightly on his shoulder. "We're done for today. Andrik said we can rest." His eyes remained locked on the wall. "James?" she whispered.