*This book is a good few years old now so apologies for the poor writing - make sure to check out my newest Avengers book 'Trust Me, I Will Never Trust You'.*
'I continue to struggle against Buckys grasp, as the doctor approached me with a needle in...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
• • •
"Ourmindsaretroubledbytheemptiness.
Destroythemiddle; it'sawasteoftime."
• • •
An hour had passed since I was left to stare into oblivion as my stomach complained about the lack of food I had today.
Trying to get comfortable I rested my head on my crossed arms, feeling the cold metal against my skin. For some unknown reason, it was calming as I closed my eyes to get some rest.
Unfortunately, my nap was interrupted by a man I recognized as Captain America walking into the room, picking up the chair that the guy had knocked over earlier and sitting directly opposite me.
"What's your name, kid?" There was a long pause like he believed I would break my silence for some nice guy facade.
"Not the talkative type, are you?" he questions with a slight smile. He sighed as he realized I wasn't going to break anytime soon. My stomach pained me as it cramped up, wanting food, causing me to shift uneasily in my seat.
We sat for a few minutes in almost comfortable silence. Letting out a small yawn, I placed my arms back onto the table, resting my head. Attempting to return to my nap, I had become unfazed by Captain America's presence.
A slight grumble released from my stomach went unnoticed by myself, used to my body starving for food but unable to feed it. However, I heard a small chuckle erupt from the man sitting opposite me as he stood up from his seat, exiting the room.
• • •
Half an hour had passed, and I was woken by the sound of the door opening; looking up to find Captain America retaking his seat as he put a packaged sandwich down on the table in front of me. Not even caring what flavor of sandwich it was, my stomach groaned at the sight of food. I looked up at the man; my blank expression had caved as my eyes pleaded with him for the food.
"Here's how this is going to go, kid. You get food; I get my answers." His voice held a stern tone, knowing he had the upper hand. I nodded my head slightly in response, taking a risk.
Sliding the sandwich across the table to me, I unpackaged it sniffing it for poison, causing Captain America to raise an eyebrow at my unusual behavior. Ignoring him, I concluded it was safe as I practically inhaled the sandwich in, earning a chuckle.
"How about we start simple, hmm? You stole my friend's wallet?" He queered, receiving a slight nod in response from myself. I don't know why I was answering his questions. Maybe it was because I was being given food or because something deep down told me this goofy-looking blonde-haired guy wasn't going to hurt me.
"We won't hurt you, kid. Just tell us your name?" He sighs almost as if he could read my mind. I stopped eating, staring back at him as I shrunk in my chair a little.
"He remembers you; you know. His memory might not be all there, but he recognizes you from somewhere. That means you must have experienced something similar to what he has. I can't imagine what you've been through. But we can't help you if you don't talk." There was another long pause. He was speaking the truth; I recognized him but didn't know how.
He sighed, rocking back in his chair, bringing his arms up to the back of his head. He looked at me, thinking for a moment before he spoke:
"He remembers who he is. You don't, do you?" Striking a nerve, I almost physically shivered. But instead, my mouth began to move of its own accord and answered him:
"Wolfie," It came out barely above a whisper, but he somehow managed to hear me, causing a smile to plaster his face before he re-composed himself.
