I endured hours of the mind-numbing torture before they decided that it was enough. Winter sat in the small room that he occupied, watching me for hours. I looked over occasionally, and saw him looking at me with a look that could be interpreted as sympathetic. I couldn't take it, this was supposed to be over. I promised myself it wouldn't happen again, and I here I was. This would forever be apart of me. I was doomed.
After I was transported into a room smaller than Winter's and chained up again was when the shaking started. They put the shock collar back on me and every little move I made set it off. My knees were hugged to my chest and I was rocking back and forth trying to even my breathing, which wasn't working. I understand now why Nat never wanted me to be an agent, but I wasn't an agent when I was taken. I was me. Little, broken, stunted me.
I don't know how much time had passed before I heard whispering from the room attached to mine. I turned my head (and got shocked from it) to the large window that seperated me and the other occupant and saw Winter looking at me. I slowly turned back to face away from him when he started again.
"What?" I whispered at the lowest possible level I could. All the people in the lab by our rooms were not paying attention to us. Pierce and Rumlow were gone and the so called 'guards' were not guarding very well.
He shuffled a little closer to the big window, but slowly so he didn't cause suspision. "Quis es?" (Who are you) He asked quietly.
This dude has got to be joking. Latin is a dead language so- OH MY GOSH. This dude is very smart for a phsycotic assasin/kidnapper.
"Alessia. Quis es?" I whispered back.
He thought for a long while. "Salve?" (Hello?) I asked him after a bit of silence.
"Ego non scio." (I don't know) He whispered back. It was astonishing how low our voices could be but we could still converse.
I thought of what to say. My mind was blanking. "Quare sic loquimur?" (Why are we talking like this?) It was the only thing that came to mind. Maybe he had a plan to get us out.
He whispered back. "Est solum lingua non noverunt." (It's the only langauage they don't know.) I got shocked badly just because the guys with the remote felt like it. I whimpered loudly, catching the Soldier's attention.
"Ego sum paenitet." (I am sorry.) He whispered to me once the shock had gone away.
I was confused. Why was he apologizing?
"Quod?" (What?) I asked him after my silence.
He answered almost immediately to my surprise. "Caperent tu." (Capturing you.) I tilted my head slightly, ignoring the sharp pain it sent.
"Quare fecisti?" (Why did you?) I whispered to him softly.
He paused before he answered. "Meus es tu missio." (You were my mission.) He whispered as he leaned his head back against the wall we shared.
My next question shocked us both. "Tu habere arbitrium?" (Did you have a choice?) I needed to know. I needed to know if he was like me, or truly crazy.
"No." He whispered, just loud enough for me to hear, and smile.
❁
The next 5 hours were spent with us whispering in different languages, so no one caught on. Unfortunetly, Brock Rumlow waltzed in with a smug look on his face.
"Junior! It's time. Get her in the chair." He said to me before instructing multiple agents to grab me. I was too weak to fight back, even when was injected with a strange substance.
I was shoved into the chair and the mouth guard placed in between my teeth. I knew what was coming, but the first wave surprised me every time. This time was shorter, but much more painful. I could practically hear my brain being seared off, until all that was left was a beaten pulp. The struggling against the chair opened my wounds on my stomach. My wrist was inflamed and still bent.
Rumlow grabbed my chin to make me look at him. "You're almost ready for the Madame, Romanoff. She can't wait to see you again. This time, you won't get away. That's a promise." I willed my eyes to glow, my powers to work, but they didn't. And I feared they never would.
Once I was thrown back into my room, they started preparing the chair for the Soldier. Italian was the language of choice this time.
"Aiutami." (Help me) I begged him once the shocks started again from my neck.
He turned to look at me. "Mi spiace." (I am sorry.) He said quietly.
His breathing started to pick up when the chair was ready and the agents started walking over. I started thinking of something, anything that could help calm him before his pain began.
"Ti salverò lo prometto." (I will save you, I promise.) I said to him as they dragged him away.
I had to lay on the floor and curl up in a pathetic ball to try to block the Soldier's screams from my ears. The next time I looked up, the Soldier's friendly face and soft smile were gone, replaced by the cold and empty look I recognized so well. My thoughts drifted to my sister. Wherever she was, I hoped she was safe. Then it hit me all over again, she was gone, and Winter and I were on our way.
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