You were his wife in the 40's through thick and thin, sickness and health, richer or poorer, and through all of the twists of life. Even 70 years later you continued to love him, and stay by his side.
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I woke up in a dank, rundown factory with chipping sheet rock walls, exposed electrical circuits, and oil stained cement floors. The place smelt of must, and chemicals, and I could hear rats scurrying within the air ducts, their little feet scratching along the silver pipes.
The windows were bolted shut with pieces of plywood, allowing a scant amount of natural light to flood in, and the hanging florescent lamps above me blazed down like fire, heat radiating off the bulbs.
Cracking open my eyes, my vision was clouded like mist engulfing a meadow, eclipsing my sight.
I was tied to a chair, my wrists clasped behind me, the braided rope rubbing at my sensitive flesh, making my skin raw.
I felt like my head had been split in half, and like my brain was being squeezed by someone's hands. Everything around me was disorientated like I was looking through fun-house mirrors, and the glaring white lights didn't help. Their lucid brightness only adding an extra "pang" to my dizziness.
"Good, you're up. I was beginning to get impatient." I heard Alexander chime in.
"That sleeping drug infused within the needle that I had shot in your neck was measured for someone with a bigger stature than a woman like yourself, so I was concerned the anesthetic intake was too much for your body to handle." He assessed, his leather oxford shoes clicking against the grey concrete floor as he paced around.
"You're an easy one to detain since nothing about you is enhanced in anyway, and you don't have any hidden powers, do you?"
I blinked a couple of times, clarifying the pollution that was cloaked within my head, my sight purifying, and focusing again.
"Your cover has already been blown, so why capture me? One way, or another all of S.H.I.E.L.D. knows the truth."
"Right, I never told you which option I'd pick, did I?" Pierce recalled, dipping down so that he was close to me. "I'll enlighten you, I'd pick option three. You see you're also very useful to me... Mrs. Rebecca Barnes."
My eyes grew wide at his words, that name, my full name not being uttered to me in seventy years. And, even though it was being said by an enemy, it still felt good to hear again. I wasn't ready to hear it yet, but even coming from his lips, that name was a comfort surprisingly, a fleck of the past. Of better days...
He only smirked, a shrewd, astute smirk, one which held crafty secrets.
"How was it reuniting with your husband again after all this time? Seeing him, recognizing him even all while he had no clue who you were?"
"He did." I snarled back, remembering how he came to my apartment that night, desperately wanting answers. How he looked so alone, and afraid, a fear that I didn't know the meaning behind until now.
He was afraid of remembering only because he knew the second he'd remember something, or regain his senses that he'd just have his memories erased again. He wanted to remember me, and Steve so much, but he was fighting it because he didn't want to be forced to forget. The pain contorted across his face, the tear he shed, the terror that was coursing through him that night...
