James Buchanan Barnes Imagine book 2

Beast

"You're mission is to infiltrate this base and keep an eye on the subject. We want daily reports and we'll send fake emergencies to them every so often so you can come back when we need you too," He explained to her, pointing around the map to further explain the whereabouts, "You'll have a safe house almost five kilometers away from the base in case of emergency. While you keep an eye on the subject we also need you to find a way to get him out, Captain's orders. Understood?"

"Yes sir," She nodded, already grabbing her armor and ammunition.

They both headed to the jet while her superior stayed behind, furiously typing away at the tablet in his hands. The Captain met them there, where he took her duffle bag and stored it somewhere on the jet. He set up the coordinates with Friday and sat in the copilot seat patiently waiting for the two people to stop chatting.

"Remember, anything goes wrong safe house first and we'll give you the rendezvous for plan B." Her superior gave one last encouraging smile before backing out and waving bye.

"Ready?" The Captain asked her, watching as she sat down and began switching things on.

"Let's get this done, Steve. I'm already tired."

He chuckled sarcastically and slid down into in his seat, getting himself comfortable.

"Always the optimist, Y/n."

    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He couldn't see anything. His senses were completely depleted. The drugs they gave him made him feel loopy, he couldn't stay upright so they dragged him. Maybe it was his fault for fighting back. The needle scared him though, he was scared.

No, he is terrified.

He needed control, control over something. Even if it was just standing in a corner on his own, at least he can do that. But he had no control, he couldn't even move. He felt his body tremble but it wasn't his fault, he couldn't control it. His head was in so many different places at once it made the back of his brain hurt.

"Look, Y/n, the plane is taking off!"

There goes that damn spark again. It felt like a shock that made his spine tingle. As soon as the memory came it went, taking what little hope he had with it. He started thinking to himself, often told that he's a 'damn mutt' who can't even do that without instruction. But he proves them wrong sometimes. Sometimes without Cryo he sees this guy; crying and screaming, begging to get out, but he seems so far away. Too far away. Who is he?

"Drop him here." A low mutter, as if he's not supposed to be heard.

He felt himself being dragged with more force before being tossed into a corner. His head collided with the nearby wall, and from the lack of oxygen with the bag over his head he was fighting to keep consciousness. Heavy steps stomped towards him and he squeezed his eyes shut feeling the roughness of the sack scrape his face. Thankfully, they let himself adjust to his surroundings, knowing just how fidgety he can be without knowing where he was.

"Okay," A man with a clipboard sighed out loud, he wore a white coat and gloves. Brown hair, hazel eyes, about 5'8, over 40 years old. That's all he could see from the mystery man, "My name is Doctor Nel what's yours?"

There was silence. He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know a thing about . He realizes just how deep this is and visibly shrunk in on himself. Who am I? Who am I? The repeating mantra confused him further until he heard laughing. Real laughing that could've only been pointed at him. Oh.

"You thought I was serious?" The Doctor laughed loudly with the rest that were in the room, "You damn idiot, of course you don't know. I didn't know that when they wiped you they took your common sense too."

The man in the corner could only look down, ashamed that he fell for it again. They always made fun of him anytime they moved him around bases, he was a joke. A thing to laugh at because he couldn't do anything for himself. He fell for it. He forgot again. Of course he did.

"Anyway, let's set this thing up so we can put it in Cryo. I'm desperate to see it in action." He smiled, wincing when he turned around, "Okay, okay, shit. By the way, this is you're new overseer, Agent L/n. She's here to watch over you in case anything happens and you twist out the loop. Bye now."

They all left one by one leaving him alone with his new overseer. Now he was even more scared than before. Overseer's aren't ever nice, their anything but nice. Anytime they tend to his wounds they make it worse. A disgusting look in their eyes when they watch him heal in a matter of minutes. The scars that are left behind. . burn. She closed her eyes and tsked, obviously looking annoyed as she grabbed the First Aid kit that barley had anything in it.

Please, please, no. I'm begging you don't touch me.

Every step she took haunted him and he turned away again, hiding his face in the corner of the wall. For a moment, there was nothing, he couldn't even pick up the smallest of breaths. Slowly and unsure, he let himself peek out his hair and at her, curious as to why not even a kick came his way. When he looked, he was met with the softest pair of eyes he's ever seen and he cracked right then and there.

"W—wha—"

He stopped talking when she raised her hand. He flinched and closed his eyes, hitting his head again when he jerked back. Still, nothing came his way. Maybe this was a trick. Yeah. This time if he opens his eyes there will definitely be pain. He knows it. But he couldn't keep his eyes closed forever, the longer they were closed the worse it'd get, that was just a rule. He couldn't do it this time. He has to be obedient. He cracked his eyes open and forced the tears down, weakness led to the brink of death.

He has to be obedient. So he placed his bloody hand in hers. Her skin was so warm and smooth, not cold and calloused like everyone else. The softness in her eyes never faltered even when she grabbed the cotton and stitches. Her touch was so tender. Was he dead?

"I know that you're weak right now," She started, carefully taking the rusty tweezers and picking out the metal in his palm, "Because of the drugs they used, right? It's not supposed to last long. I don't want you getting hurt too bad like this, it could damage you permanently."

She mumbled apologies when his hand twitched in pain, the numbing in his fingers was beginning to be to much.

"My name is Y/n," She whispered now, as if to hide her voice in the cell with him, "I know you're name but I can't say yet. Just know I won't hurt you, not me. I hate the way they treat you but I can't do anything about it yet, it's not my place."

She finished wrapping up his hand with the cloth, making sure it wouldn't come loose and seeing how it moved while he closed and opened his hand. Her gentle fingers raked over his open palm for a moment, sympathy was clean and pure in her eyes when she looked up at him. Different from the focused and cold ones she had when the superiors were in the room earlier.

"You can trust me."

And that's how it started. Anytime the superiors entered the room her calm and kind demeanor changed instantly. She was different from what he knew and it was hard for him to switch his demeanor too. He often caught himself staring at her in wonder when she silently shook her head and motioned towards whoever was in front of him.

But he didn't know her fully.

He didn't know she wasn't on their side and he didn't know he'd be free from this until that day.