III: The Soldier and the Fairy Queen: Red Eve

XXV: March 31st

A/N:
March 6th, 2017- 14 days after Sunny's abduction
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The Soldier held her arm out and let the nurse insert his needle. Technically, she shouldn't have been able to feel it, but she did. She practically heard it slide under her skin and suck out her blood gluttonously. That purple-red liquid that pumped through her veins and kept her breathing. She watched the syringe fill with it.

The nurse took it out and dabbed the spot of blood with an alcohol pad. This nurse was one of the braver ones, a slim man with dark skin and thick eyebrows. The other nurses and doctors skittered around like crabs and tried not to stare at her. But not this one.

The nurse walked over to his little cart and emptied the syringe into a large vial, sealing it immediately. He put it on a rack, next to six identical ones. He laid the syringe next to the rack and opened the door. The Soldier stared as the man rolled his little cart out. The door shut with a click, and she heard the wheels squeaking down the hallway.

Even though she couldn't see them, she knew there were at least two guards outside their door. They didn't know she could hear them through the door. She didn't believe the Winter Soldier could hear them as well, he'd shown no signs if he could. But then again, he hadn't shown many signs of anything. She scuffed her feet on the gritty concrete floor and glanced over at the man.

Since she'd completed her mission in Virginia, he'd been upgraded from being restrained to a table to a hard cot like hers. He hadn't responded nearly as well to the process as she had. The woman had ordered her to stand by while they wiped him. She didn't understand why. If he'd tried to escape, maybe? But, even at the beginning, it seemed as if he were too defeated to run.

It had taken many, many hours. It had started with threats and cursing, but that soon deterioted into begging and weeping. Pleading to her, as if she could somehow help him. It broke what was left of her heart. Eventually, it was only screaming and silence. The screaming was the worst. His throat didn't start bleeding like her's did, but it was horrid all the same. How was it possible for someone to sound like that?

When he was finally suitable for use, they'd outfitted him with a new metal arm. If he was pleased with that, he didn't show it. They'd been out on six missions so far. Five kill, one extraction. The extraction had been the easiest one. They had to break into an abandoned fortress in Canada and grab some papers. The kill missions had been fairly quiet, with no interference whatsoever.

That was what worried her. No interference. The kills were too easy. The worst thing they'd run into was a couple of bodyguards one woman had. Well, it was twenty-five guards, but still. It made the Soldier's skin crawl with apprehension. Someone was on their tail.

The guards thought that as well. She heard their conversations drift through the door. The languages changed every few days. Once it was French, then German, then Russian, then English. "Another HYDRA facility was blown up yesterday,", "how do they know where they are?", "I don't know,", "do you think they'll find us?", "No, no, I doubt they'd even think to look here. This base hasn't been used in fifty years, but she's starting to move everything to St. Louis just in case."

They were coming for Winter. But she would never let them take him. He was her partner, and she'd die before anything happened to him, even if he didn't do the same for her. It felt correct, like that was how it was supposed to be. She constantly acted on instinct, not letting anyone see him, and killing targets before he had the chance to.

The Soldier had a faint feeling that she should know who this 'HYDRA' was, but when she reached for an answer, she came up empty. The guards also talked about a big plan. Something huge was going to happen on March 31st. None of them knew exactly what, though.

She looked over at the Winter Soldier's sleeping form. He always seemed to be sleeping. She didn't know how long it had been since she slept. She couldn't even judge from her appearance, the mirror had been removed after their first mission together. It didn't matter, though. She could see her tattoo just fine in the light that never turned off. She rubbed it continuously, as if she could rub it off. She rarely lifted the sleeve to study it, due to Winter's presence, but she thought about it almost continuously.

She remembered the woman's happiness after the mission in Virginia. "Now I have a matched set!" She'd said, an almost gleeful quiver in her voice. It was entirely correct, but the statement made the Soldier's throat burn with bile.

A hot wave of nausea interrupted the Soldier's thoughts. She bent over and stared at the ground, trying to stay conscious. Oh, no. This can't be happening now! I've done so well. Control, control, control. You have to keep control, Soldier. Stay focused, don't lose control. She drew several shaky breaths. This would happen when she needed to be wiped again, she heard the doctors talking about it to the woman. She didn't want to be wiped again. Control. Don't let it slip away. Her stomach cramped and she choked harshly on her saliva. The familiar taste of warm blood filled her mouth.

Words danced through the mist that was descending on her mind. She heard them echo, over the ringing in her ears, with contempt and brutal honesty, "It's hard to love something that's broken. You are not even broken, you've been ripped apart from the inside out. That's why no one loves you. There's nothing left to love. No one is coming for you. You are here to satisfy your handlers with what little skills you have."

The Soldier's skin tingled like millions of white-hot pins and needles were stabbing her, the feeling spreading from her fingers and toes to her torso. She gasped, trying to inhale oxygen that didn't seem to want to enter her lungs. Control, Soldier. Keep your head. She clutched her chest as a bolt of pain shot through it. Images she didn't understand flashed through her mind. The floor darkened several shades and the Soldier grabbed the edge of the cot. Her knees buckled.

The Soldier hit the ground like a stone, but stayed sitting up, trying to keep her vision from fogging up. Don't pass out don't pass outdon'tpass outdon'tpassoutkeepcontroldon'tpassoutstayawakekeepcontrol. Her thoughts fused into each other. The damp ground met her back through her hospital gown. She inhaled and choked again, sputtering. Don'tpassoutkeepcontrolstayawakedon'tpassoutcontrolawake. She saw a shiny shadow over her, blocking the light. Winter.

She tried to say something, but it was hard enough to simply breathe. Her throat was closing up. Waves of heat penetrated her skin and boiled her blood. A vise was squeezing her skull, hoping to crush it. The light dimmed. The Soldier felt cold metal on the back of her hot neck before she was pushed into the abyss.