Unforgivable - A Marvel Fanfic {Ongoing}

13. Control

??? - Age: ???

The Winter Soldier was tortured every day, over and over his code words were said. I watched every time, sometimes from inside the room with the men in lab coats, but mainly from inside the actual torture room. Then after his torture was done, mine would begin. When his wounds got too bad I was told to treat the wounds. Every time he would try to talk to me, telling me that I was "Georgia Rogers" but I knew I wasn't. When he trained I would watch, and when he injured himself or damaged his metal arm, I would take him to his room and patch him up. 

I was allowed free reign around the building most of the time, but when they couldn't spare 2 soldiers to watch me I was locked in my room; a square of stone with an old hospital bed and a chair in it. 

I lay down on the bed and tried to recover from the torture when the door opened. I sighed and pulled the blanket further up to my chin. 

"Get up, сука (bitch)," I heard a voice say. I threw the blanket off and sat on the edge of my bed, "Did you speak to the Winter Soldier?" the man questioned. 

"I try not to, sir," I replied, "But he makes it difficult," he slapped me across the face and I tried not to react. 

"Do not speak to him again until his processing is done," 

"Yes, sir," I nodded.

"Suit up and meet in the Комната обработки (Processing Room)," I nodded again and the man left the room. I took my suit off the table and changed into it. Then I walked to the Processing Room. The Winter Soldier was already there being tortured. 

"Тоска, ржавый, печь, рассвет, семнадцать, доброкачественный, девять, возвращение домой, один, товарный вагон (Longing, rusted, furnace, daybreak, seventeen, benign, nine, homecoming, one, freight car)," the man repeated. No reaction from the Winter Soldier. "Тоска, ржавый, печь, рассвет, семнадцать, доброкачественный, девять, возвращение домой, один, товарный вагон (Longing, rusted, furnace, daybreak, seventeen, benign, nine, homecoming, one, freight car)," the man repeated.

"Готов соблюдать (Ready to comply)," The Winter Soldier stopped screaming. The metal plates moved out of his way and he stood. 

"Убей ее (Kill her)," the man said and he pointed straight at me. I readied myself as the Winter Soldier came toward me, anger plastered on his face. He threw a punch and I dodged it, moving backwards slightly as he stepped forward. He continued to keep trying to punch me and I kept dodging and moving backwards until I hit a wall. My eyes widened as the Winter Soldier's flesh fist came straight toward my face, I didn't have time to dodge and it landed right on my nose, I heard a slight crack and I felt the blood rush out. I regretted not wearing the mask. "Солдат, стой (Soldier, stop)," 

The Winter Soldier stopped and then fell to the ground in front of me, groaning. He looked up and saw that I was bleeding. He looked at his bloodied hand, "I'm so sorry, Georgia," he gasped. I straightened up, even as blood dripped down my face. I moved away from the Winter Soldier as I heard him start to cry, 

"He is progressing well," I told the man who said the words, "You should be able to control him for longer on the next trial,"

"Go and clean yourself up, Red Widow," I bowed my head in thanks and then went out of the room to the room with the lab coat people. One of them threw a cloth at me and I wiped the blood off my nose and mouth, and then I cracked my nose back into place. The bleeding slowed down and I wiped it from my face. The Winter Soldier was dragged back to the torture chair and was tortured for hours with none of his code words being said. 

Weeks Later

The Winter Soldier was being controlled more and more often for longer and longer amounts of time. We trained together through those times, using the punching bags in sync and sparring. The HYDRA agents were working on new contraptions, I didn't know what they were or what they were to be used for but they seemed to be some sort of freezing contraptions. 

I ignored them most of the time except when they gave me orders. "Red Widow," I turned to the man, "We have a mission for you," I nodded, and he passed me a file, "You will kill this man," 

The man was in his mid-40s, with brown-blond hair and dark eyes. His name sat at the top of the file, written in neat printed handwriting; Agent Jack Thompson.

"Yes, sir," I nodded. I was then escorted through the facility and put on a plane. A doctor came over to me and passed me my mask. I placed it on my face and then he injected a needle into my arm. The room started to spin and I fell to the floor. 

Later

I slowly opened my eyes. It was night time and I was lying on the roof of a building. I stood up and looked around. 

"He lives 4 stories down," a voice sounded in my ear, "Bring the body back up once you are finished. There is a bag with equipment on the edge," I walked over to the edge and opened the black bag. Inside was a rope, a body bag, and a knife in its sheath. I rolled the body bag up and put it into my pocket. I tied the rope to the pipe that was sticking out the top of the roof and then threw it down the building. I put the knife in my belt and grabbed the rope. 

I jumped and held the rope tight. I swayed slightly and then counted the windows until I got to 4 stories down. I slowly lowered myself to the window and stood on the sill. I took the knife out and slowly opened the window. I climbed inside the window and lowered it. I stepped into a comfy living room. 

The couches were light blue colours and looked very comfortable, they were pointed toward a television that sat left of the window. There were pictures of the man I was to kill around the room. Him graduating; him standing in front of an eagle symbol; him with two older people; and a younger him with a dog. I couldn't hear him in the house as I snuck around, not making a sound. The front door opened and I leapt behind a wall. I could hear a woman's voice and I slowly moved toward it, the knife in my hand. 

I leapt out from behind the wall when I heard the door close. The woman gasped and turned around. She was wearing a blue dress and had neatly curled brown hair. 

"And who are you?" she asked in a British accent. 

"Where is Thompson?" I questioned her. Realisation dawned on her face and she tried to punch me. I grabbed her hand and threw her back into a wall. She tried to punch me again and it met its mark, my mask flew off my face and I looked back at her. Her mouth fell open,

"Georgia?" she questioned,

"Why does everyone keep calling me that!?" I yelled. I swung at her face and my fist collided with her nose. She fell to the floor and was knocked unconscious as her head hit the floor. The door opened again and my target walked in, 

"Peggy?" his voice asked. He closed the door and then looked around the room. I stood over his 'Peggy' with a knife in my hand. He squared his shoulders and raised his fists. I shook my head slowly and threw the knife at him. It hit him square in the chest. He gasped and blood started to pour out of his mouth. He fell to the floor with a gurgle and started to choke on the red liquid coming into his mouth. 

I slowly watched him die and then moved his 'Peggy' into the kitchen. I pulled the body bag out of my pocket and lay it on the floor beside my target. I unzipped the bag and placed him inside. Once the bag was firmly closed I tied it to my back and climbed out the window and back up the rope. I untied the rope and put it back in the backpack. 

"Миссия завершена, цель мертва (Mission Complete, Target Dead)," I said into the earpeice,

"Скопируйте это, на маршруте (Copy that, on route)," came back, and suddenly the loud sound of a helicopter filled my ears.  

Sorry, this one is so short and crappy, I just really needed to update