Hydra's Widow

Chapter Five

168 hours and I'm still stuck in this cell. I made it to chapter fifteen in the book, I trained, did my hair, ate, brush my teeth, repeat. 

The only way I knew it's day outside is by the clock in front of my cell. Other than that, I had no clue of when the sun rested or was awake.

Agent Barton walked through the main door, in his hands is a metal tray with my breakfast. I saw a bottle of juice sitting on the tray. He advanced to the cell door.  I turned my head to the side, waiting for him to sit the tray on the floor, but he had other plans as I felt a slight vibration on my feet. I looked to him, "What?" I signed. 

"Soon," was his reply. 

I was about to asked, but he had already sat down the food and walked away. I got up and took the tray from the ground. I went back and sat down on the bed. I took a bite out of what looks like eggs. Instead of the plastic taste of microwaved scrambled eggs I had the flavor of seasons. I hurried to take another bite of the breakfast. Of the week I've been here I've only had quick heated up breakfast meals.

The bacon on the side was crunchy and not elastic like. 

It had me wondering 'why are they doing this?' 

I finally finished my breakfast. I put the tray back to the spot in front of the cell door. I took a drink from the bottle of juice that came with the meal. My mind started to wander everywhere but this cell. My mind isn't treating this cell like prison, no it wants to think about what will happen next. Then my mind decided to go back to the past. 'What was my birth name?' it wondered. 

My brain returns to the present as I feel eyes piercing into my head. 

'Hello?' a voice greeted me in my head. I recognize that voice. That voice was whispering in my head on that harsh battlefield. 

I swiftly stood up from the bed, I quickly scanned the room for a person. When I look up, I saw the same green eyes that stared me down on that battlefield. I sent him a glare. Instead of him returning the glare his gaze softens. With me trying to decide of what my next move would be I stood defensively. 

'How did he get into my head?' I thought. 

'Telepathic powers, my dear,' Loki replied in my head. 

For the first time in a long time, I was caught off guard. This is the first voice I've heard, ever since the battle. It felt almost poetic for a Deaf person to be able to hear such a thing. 

'Get out,' I told him in my head. 

'Don't act like you're not scared, like you're some kind of monster.'

How did he know? I killed people. Over the week I had thought about calling myself a monster, most here treats me as such. But I've never gave myself that title. I look down avoiding his gaze. 

'I was once a monster...I still am,' he said in my head. 

'You know Hydra worshipped you?'

'What?'

'Your scepter gave them the power to create anything,' I explained. 'I didn't want to look at you for that reason, Loki. Frankly, I still can't completely look at you,' I continued, still looking at the floor.

'I've been where you are. In a cell, stuck, not sure of what path to take,' he explained. I looked at him. 'It feels hopeless, doesn't it?' I give a slight nod. 'Agent Romanoff thinks you have potential. Barton agrees, but you have to convince yourself you're worth it,' without another word he walked out, leaving me with his words lingering in my head. 

But am I worth it? I can't even get out of this cell, even then do I want to leave? Cells are the only things that I'm familiar with. I couldn't look anyone in the eyes with the fear I'm doing something wrong. I may have not been brainwashed like the Winter Soldier, but it seems like Hydra did brainwash me in a different way. 

Soon, it was time for dinner. I was shocked when Barton walked through the door with two plates. Not a metal tray, no, regular dinner plates. The door slid open, as he walked in then sat on the floor. He gestured for me to sit in front of him, which I did. 

He reached slowly to my hand; I pulled away. Then, I realized that I still had my bandage from a week ago on. I let him take it off. I looked at my knuckles to see the wounds had closed. All that's left is a scab that's made out of dried blood. 

Barton drew my attention to my plate, that laid in front of me. It looked to be some kind of Russian meal. Barton waves in front of me. I look up. 

"Natasha made it," he signed with a smile. I nodded.

I took a bite of the thick orange goo. The first bite I took was salt. As the food touched my mouth, I spit it back into the goo that was the dish. As soon as Barton saw me spit the food out, he slid me a candy bar. I gladly took it. A couple seconds later, Barton tried the food and had the same reaction as I did. He pulled a second candy bar from his pocket. 

After eating our "dinner" I finally get up the courage to ask, "What did you mean by soon?"

"You'll see."