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Setting: TWS
You stood at the opposite end of the cold room, struggling to remain as silent and still as every other person in the room—including him.
He was not there, though. He was not present.
You'd seen this look before; James was doing something that Hydra had so desperately tried to prevent him from doing. He was doing something that, up until now, Alexander Pierce had not yet seen him do before.
James was remembering.
You knew it had something to do with fighting Steve Rogers on the bridge. All it took was Steve to look him in the eyes and say, 'Bucky.' It was that simple.
Or was it?
He was struggling—maybe even fighting to recall who Steve was. You couldn't be certain, but you had a feeling, and your feelings about James were never wrong.
"Mission report, now." Pierce's voice caused you to tear your gaze away from James.
Your breath caught in your throat as Pierce bent down, eye level with James, and struck his cheek with his hand. Another agent looked over at you briefly, eyes narrowed as if studying your facial expression.
You avoided looking back at him and instead adjusted your grip on your gun. Never in a million years would you use it on James; you weren't even a part of Hydra—really.
You were there for James. You were the only one with inside knowledge of The Winter Soldier and Hydra's past and potential future with him. You were at an advantage to help him, which was exactly why Nick Fury had contacted you months ago, along with several other trained agents.
You wanted to help; you truly did. The only issue was there were risks you were taking every second you spent working under Hydra, and each of these risks could have ultimately led to your death.
If Hydra found you out, you'd be dead. If anyone outside of Hydra put up a fight, you could end up dead. Not even Captain America himself knew the information that Nick Fury knew; Steve had no idea who you were and you intended to keep it that way until you could help James.
"That man on the bridge," James spoke, his voice cracking, "Who was he?"
Worry lines were etched into his forehead, his eyes sad. You swallowed and shifted on your feet, watching him closely, carefully.
"You met him earlier this week on another assignment." Pierce replied, determined not to allow James to have even the slightest piece of a memory.
It was silent for a moment before James looked at you. Usually he was hard to read, but not now—not for you. It was almost as if he was asking you if he knew him—if he knew Steve.
No one looked at you; they kept their eyes on James in case he had another outburst as he had moments before Pierce came in the room.
You nodded, even though you knew it was dangerous. The desperation in his eyes made you do it. You couldn't ignore him.
