different » marvel ¹

twenty-one

"Do you remember me?" A familiar voice makes me pick my head up. A woman with red hair stands in front of my cell.

   At the sight of her face, flashes of images and voices go through my head. I scrunch my eyebrows, putting together a name and general idea of who she was.

   "Natasha. We—We were friends, right?" She smiles at my words, probably happy that I knew something.

   "We are friends. That's if you want to be." She offers, crossing her arms over her chest.

   "But I tried to kill you . . . I hurt you." I recall, bringing it up to her and she nods as I talk. She smiles again, "You're not exactly the first person to try to kill me. Besides, it wasn't really you."

Her words make me stiffen, even though they were meant to be comforting. "Where is he?" I ask quietly, changing the subject.

"Barnes is getting psychologically evaluated." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a phone, typing a few things before turning it to me. Bucky was on the screen, sitting in his cell like before. A man—who I assumed was the psychiatrist—sat in front of him at a table. "You're lucky they gave me permission to show you this."

"You know it wasn't us in Vienna, right?" I ask her, my eyes flicking between the screen and Natasha. "Someone must've gotten masks, like the one you wore when you were posing as a councilwoman." I explain, making her expression falter as I turn my attention back to the screen.

   I listened carefully. "I don't wanna talk about it." Bucky's voice comes through the small speaker. "Where is Raven?"

   "The woman you came here with is safe, I assure you, but I need you to answer me, Bucky. If you don't answer, I won't be able to help you." The psychiatrist tells him. I squint, trying to get a closer look at the doctor. The aerial view of the room gives me a look at the desk he sat at. My gaze turns to his bag and I notice something red poking out of the pocket.

A notebook is what I identify it to be, the familiar black star almost taunting me, making my eyes widen. I knew what that book was, I'd seen them use it before.

"тоска. Беспредел, mечта, cемья, Лелеять, тёмный, почемучка . . . бытие, девять." The Russian words echo through my brain as a memory surfaces, I try to push it away, shutting my eyes as I focus back on the situation at hand.

"What's wrong?" Natasha's tone is concerned as she puts the phone back in her pocket.

"He has the book. I have to get out of this cell." I open my eyes, starting to struggle against the restraints. I try to use my powers, but the cuffs prevent it, just causing the energy of my ability to be pushed back.

"What book?" She asks, confused. I press against the restraints more.

"They used them on us, they say the words and—and you're their soldier again. It makes you do whatever they tell you to. He's not a psychiatrist, Natasha." My tone began to fill with worry and nervousness. "He's going to use it on Bucky, let me out please."

   "Raven, you're not making any sense. What does the book do?" Natasha presses, moving closer to the cell I was in.

   "In the book there are words that they read to us. It's—It's like a trigger, or a switch. You hear it and they control you again, you—you can't do anything about it." My voice cracks as I rush out an explanation, the new development in the situation bringing a sense of fear into my body.

   Natasha doesn't say anything as she watches me. I could tell she was debating if I was right, and if she should let me out.

   "If you're not gonna let me out of this damn cell, then get him out of that room!" I snap at her, but she doesn't flinch. Natasha gives me one last look before turning on her heel and waltzing off. My jaw slacks at her actions. "Hey! You need to listen to me!" I call out, but it's no use as she had already walked out the door.