December // A Winter Soldier Story

25

ｄｅｃｅｍｂｅｒ ２９ｔｈ， ２０１３

２０°

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝒮ℴ𝓁𝒹𝒾ℯ𝓇

He is standing in a hallway somewhere, but he is struggling just to stand. He dares not move a muscle. He fears that if he does, he will fall and never get up again.

He has been hit with another wave of something he can't describe. It feels like something deep within him - so deep he couldn't even guess where the feeling is coming from, let alone what it is - is rising up, making his head spin and his stomach turn.

This happens to him on a daily basis. He doesn't know what it is, but he feels like the answer to whatever this unseen force is is right on the tip of his tongue, just on the other side of the wall in his mind that he cannot pass. There is something inside of him that is crying out. Each time the feeling rises up like bile in the back of his throat and he swallows it back down, but it's not enough. It's never enough. It always gives him a massive headache as he confusedly tries to discern why it feels like his psyche is splitting in two.

It's disorienting when your mind is at war with itself. If there is anything that the Winter Soldier is absolutely sure of, it's that.

His mind does not work properly unless he is in a combat situation, or on a mission. Otherwise, the world is a sea of blurry, roaring colors, all of them dull and confusing. Winter's eyes do not see things in the same way an average person's eyes would see them, so when Winter is in control, the world may as well be black and white.

It all does things to his mind that he'll never be able to fully explain. And he's frustrated by it.

This is what is going through his shattered, misshapen mind as the doctor beside him talks to someone in the cell across the hall. Winter knows he should be more alert, so he tries to quiet the voices in his head long enough to pay attention.

The doctor - if you can even call him that - is taunting the prisoner, as he does with each one that comes through the facility. This is nothing new for Winter. Each time a new prisoner is brought in, the doctor plays on their emotions like it's a game, forcing them to sit and wait and wonder what's going to happen to them for an entire day before he even touches them. This builds up their fear until it's so thick that he can almost smell it in the air.

Winter has always hated this game of his. He can't explain why, but it leaves him feeling unsettled. He wishes the doctor would stop taking him along, but he always insists on dragging Winter with him, likely just to ensure that someone is always keeping an eye on the soldier who isn't allowed to think for himself.

Sure enough, the doctor is soon done with his fear-inducing speech, and turns on his heel to leave. Winter follows promptly, but as he turns around, he has an overwhelming urge to glance into the cell at the prisoner. He wants to catch a glimpse at the poor soul, see what they look like before they are tortured beyond recognition.

He makes the decision to look, and his breath hitches in his throat.

It's only a split second. A tiny fragment of a moment. But it is enough to make his mind run wild for a thousand reasons.

The prisoner is a young woman. Women are uncommon here, so he is shocked to see her; he's even more shocked as he quickly takes in her clear skin, her soft eyes, her petite frame. She is...he can't think of the word. But she makes him feel calm almost instantly. It only takes a second for him to know that something is going to different about having a prisoner like this in the building.

And as he fleetingly makes eye contact with her before looking away, something in that broken, angry mind of his clicks into place like the inner mechanisms of a clock.

He knows her.