Infatuation | Bucky Barnes

Chapter Two

At age five, Catherine lived in a seemingly perfect world. She had two parents that adored her. In fact, everyone she met loved her. What she didn't know was that children were a rare sight on a Hydra base. Her smiling face as she ran through the dark halls innocently seemed to make everyone at ease. She didn't understand where they lived or why her papa told so many people what to do or why she wasn't allowed to leave. The simple answer that her parents often gave her was to keep her safe. Safe from what, though?

Catherine was a naturally curious child. She asked too many questions. Talked too much. She wasn't defiant. She just had a mind ready to absorb as much information as she could. That was when her papa decided that she was ready to start her training. He started off easy; learning foreign languages, math, writing, geography, weapons identification, basic bomb building, and ballet to help teach her discipline and patience. Patience was something the young girl lacked at times.

She was already brilliant at such a young age. She was fluent in English and Russian and her mama was working on teaching her French next. She could read on her own. While she could write, her hand writing still wasn't the best. She could assemble and disassemble close to fifty types of weapons. Her papa wanted to start training her to fight, but her mama was slightly apprehensive. Vasily often had to remind his wife that Catherine was not just their child, but a weapon.

Catherine hated ballet. She didn't understand the point of it as she sat at the round table in her parent's apartment. To the right of her sat a boring bowl of oatmeal. To the left sat a French language book. She attempted to eat and read while her mama worked on slicking her hair back into a bun. Her schedule was consistent. Wake up. Eat. Study. Work with Zima. Ballet. Sometimes her papa would let her sit in his office while he worked.

Zima. It was her personal word for the Soldier her papa had selected to help train her. Catherine found him...odd. He was always so quiet, almost as if he were disassociating. He had a funny looking arm with a red star on it. She would often poke fun at his long hair. She joked that she would braid it with flowers in it which usually earned her a very dirty look from him. Zima was another thing she didn't understand. He would often be away for long periods of time. She didn't know where he went, but one day he would be there, one day he wouldn't.

"Yekaterina...." Her mama affectionately spoke the Russian version of her name. "Are you paying attention?"

Catherine snapped out of the trance she was. The one where she broke free of the base and got to see the things she read about in the stories her mama gave her. "Sorry, mama."

"I asked you to tell me what you're eating for breakfast in French." Her mama repeated.

So, many things she longed for .... friends...something other than learning...

The feeling of a hand colliding with her cheek caused her to stir. Her brown eyes widened when she realized what happened. A hand reached up to cup her throbbing cheek. When she looked up, she saw her papa standing there looking down at her with a disapproving look. "Your mama asked you a question. Multiple times at that."

"S-Sorry, papa." Catherine said with a shaky voice while fighting back tears. She wasn't allowed to cry. Crying made things worse for her. Her mama just stood frozen in place. "Au petit-déjeuner, je prends des flocons d'avoine. (For breakfast I am having oatmeal.)"

"Good. Finish up eating and clean up. After, I want you to go down to the training room." Vasily told the girl before leaning down and kissing the top of her head. However, Catherine didn't move a muscle until he was out of the room.

Her mama crouched down next to her to inspect the welt on her cheek. Catherine cringed back. "No, mama."

"What is going on with you, my драгоценность (jewel)?" Her mama asked softly.