Avengers High School - Winter Soldier

37 - Temporary Normality

She could still vividly remember most instances.

The Black Widows were in a training session with the Winter Soldier, who hadn't been read the trigger words, so was fighting less ruthlessly against the girls. He was pulling his punches and the Madame could tell.

As the Widows listened to orders from their own superiors, Natasha watched the interaction between the Soldier and the woman.

The young teen was standing off to the side at attention, his heart rate picking up as the Madame approached him.

Natasha couldn't hear them but she could see. She noticed how the Soldier's chest started to rise quicker, how his jaw clenched tighter, fists balled so his knuckles were white. His gaze was cold as he tried to establish whatever dominance he could, but his whole facade slipped through the cracks in his frightened face. The Madame was obviously scolding him with a soft voice. She looked down at him from the added height of her heels, gently combing his hair with her fingers as he tried to discreetly squirm away.

Natasha hated how she teased him with care like that. It reminded her how he was still a child. A child who was so touch-starved and fearful of punishment he would accept anything, do anything, to be comforted and appraised. It reminded her of how controlling HYDRA was by how different the boy acted as the Winter Soldier and himself. It reminded her how he was being used. It disgusted her.

She watched as he tried to turn away from her, only for the Madame to roughly grab his jaw and pull his head back. She smiled sweetly, venomously, down at him until she placed a heavy hand on his shoulder and leant down to whisper something in his ear. The Soldier winced and tried to flinch away but she held a tight grip.

When she released her grip and his fists unclenched, Natasha could see blood trickling from the crescent-shaped cuts in the inner palm of his hand.

Whatever the Madame had said must have been very threatening for the Soldier, who acted ruthlessly and emotionlessly during the rest of the session, no longer pulling any punches.

Another instance Natasha had seen was when she was sitting on the other side of his cell and he was inside, bloody and bruised. The Madame ignored Natasha and strolled over to the cowering Soldier.

The Soldier scampered away across the floor, trying to silence his whimpers and hisses of pain in the process. He glared at her as she approached him. His muscles were tensed and ready.

"[Don't even think about it, Soldier.]"

That only made him narrow is eyes further. Even though he was sitting bloodily and dirty against a cold concrete wall on the floor, trying to hide the shaking in his whole body, he was still threatening. Anger and hurt radiated from him. But he couldn't attack the Madame.

"[You're not going to fight me]," she reiterated, lowering to a crouch beside the boy.

The Madame's manner suddenly turned soft. "The agents went a bit far today, didn't they? They were a bit too rough." She tenderly brushed the hair from his eyes, ran her fingers across his purple cheek.

The Soldier was skeptical before he relaxed slightly, exhaustion taking over as he accepted whatever form of care the Madame was giving, since he received it from no one else (apart from Natasha at this time).

When she wrapped an arm around him like a hug, he fell into the embrace, body sagging dangerously. And The Madame placed a kiss to his head, before hastily getting up and shoving his skull to the ground.

Natasha gasped, tears welling in her eyes. The Soldier's eyes were wide in a daze as his brain rung before he collapsed to the ground and scrunched up his face in pain.