ghost ★ [b. barnes/winter soldier]

★ ONE - одна ★

one - the red star
одна - красная звезда

||  ★  ||

HIT.

"You're a disgrace to this family!"

PUNCH.

"You did everything wrong! Look at this mess you've made!" Files slammed onto the desk in front of me as I was thrown to the wall. "Why did I think you could do anything right?"

HIT. HIT.

"You're just like your family," he whispered in my ear. "An abomination."

PUNCH. KICK. PUNCH.

A bullet zipped past me as I heard the sound of it meeting flesh, I screamed. No! Not him! "This is what you get for being a disgrace, this is what you deserve. You monster!" I heard his body hit the ground as I got out of line and cradled it, no... no...

SLAM.

The punching bag flew off the hinge that kept it in the ceiling. It landed with a loud crash, dust and smoke came in a cloud and disappeared just like when it appeared.

I gently rubbed my aching hands as the small pings of pain shot through them from miss-hits. I closed my eyes for a second, clearing my mind from the memories flooding into my desolate brain.

I gently started to unwrap my hands as I heard a door shutting, it echoed throughout the gym as I started to roll up my wrap. I gently sat on the bench as I undid my ankle braces, before I heard the footsteps stop.

"You know there's always a spot on the team," he muttered behind me as I slowly straightened, zipping my things away.

"I'd rather pass, for the millionth time."

"I don't hand out these opportunities to anyone, you should know that." I heard him walking around the long line of benches before his black combat boots came into my eye sight.

"Trust me, I know. You're finally coming out of your shell to branch out, congrats. Want something for that accomplishment?" I sassed him as he let out a snort before I saw him cross his arms.

"I remember when I came to this gym to meet the man who was frozen in ice for over seventy years," he let out a long sigh as if remembering the memory. "He was as juvenile as you."

"I feel like that's more of a complement than an insult," I mumbled as I picked up my punching bag only to sling it over my shoulder. I brushed past his tall, broad frame to set it next to all the other bags with broken hooks. I walked back over to my bag of random essentials, setting my equipment back into their appropriate places.

He has a big figure, his physique was well defined but by the heavy clothes he wore covered who he truly was. A man on a mission. His darker skin was highlighted by the strange lighting in the gym, giving off an eerie, dangerous feeling. His face was masked by the shadows, but you could make out his sharp features that gave him the look of a fighter.

But I could always tell what lurked behind his keen ways, he was readable but at the same time unreadable. He had a complicated past and present which seemed to haunt him; he never seemed to get an escape from it because of his actions and words. He knew what he did was sometimes uncalled for, but he always did it for the current generation and the generations to come. He was like a chess game I had began to play, but every time I met him again, I lost a piece. He always seemed to be on the advantage side, which baffled me beyond words. But I knew what his intent was today, so I took his advantage by taking one of his pawns.