December // A Winter Soldier Story

32

ｊａｎｕａｒｙ １ｓｔ， ２０１４

２０°

ℬ𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎

If pieces of his memory had been slowly falling into place before, they were now hurtling towards him at the speed of light. Each one roars toward him and collides with his mind, shaking his very being.

For instance, an earth-shattering memory pierces his thoughts without warning just as he catches sight of Lea asleep inside her cell. Suddenly, she is not laying on cold, dark concrete; instead she is in a warm bed, her covers pulled to her chin, her eyelashes laid against her cheek as her chest moves up and down in a slow, rhythmic pace. Her features are illuminated by the light of moon coming in from the window.

He stops dead in his tracks as he is hit with the memory. Why does this scene feel so familiar? Why is his chest warmed at the image?

Then he blinks again and she's back in the cell. All traces of the bed, and the moonlight, and her innocence is stripped away as he looks upon her as she is now.

He is left trying to figure out if the image he saw in his mind was real or not real, and if it was real, what it could mean. The scene had been so peaceful. Lea said earlier that he knew her...was this faint, burning memory proof that she was telling the truth?

Troubled, he looks around to see that he is alone, and leans down next to the bars of the cage beside Lea. He observes her in the most innocent, curious way possible.

Her skin is streaked with dirt that has been moved around by water, and the water is still clinging to her skin in some places. Her arms, which are littered with goosebumps, cuts, and a bit of leftover blood, are wrapped around herself. Her hair is knotted and messy, loosely held up by a hair tie that is on the verge of falling out. Bucky looks at her face. The dirt that is thinly coating almost all of the the skin on her face is absent on her cheeks; one thin line of clean skin is under each eye, evidence that she was unable to completely hold in her tears, but was strong enough to only cry once.

Lea's face is set in a grimace, her eyebrows knotted and a pained expression painted on her features. Even in sleep, she appears to be suffering. The sight pains him. In the image that just appeared in his head, she was glowing with health and beauty. Now, she looks like she's been through hell. Which, he would argue, she has.

Bucky looks down at the food laying on the tray he brought for her. He knows that the meager sustenance on it will not be enough. And while he is beyond confused as to his place in her life, or her place in his, or where he is or what he is doing or who he is, he knows that he needs to get her more food. There is something within him that is driving him to want better for her. He doesn't understand it, but he acts on it, because it is easily the first thought of his own he has had in decades.

Before he thinks about it any longer, he slides the tray he has under the bars of her cell and returns to the kitchen across the compound. When no one is watching, he grabs another tray from the counter, one that has better quality food laid out on it. It was probably intended for a guard, but today it's going to go to Lea.

He returns to her cell unseen. Hydra trained him to go unnoticed, but they probably did not realize the consequences of training him this way if he were to ever work against them. Getting Lea more food was a small act, but it makes him wonder if he can get away with more now that his mind is starting to come back around.

He leans down next to the bars of the cell and studies her features again. Everything about her screams safety to him, and he wishes he knew why. Gently, he stirs her awake with a nudge and a quiet, "Lea."