' ' Perfect Enough To Break ' '

A unspoken weight

Sova

HYDRA never trained you to fear pain. They trained you to endure, to kill, to vanish. But no amount of training prepared you for this—being caught by him.

The mission had gone clean—until it didn't. Alarms blared, a sudden, sharp hit to the back of my head, then darkness.

When I wake, I'm in a dimly lit interrogation room. My wrists are bound behind a chair bolted to the floor. Classic SHIELD setup. My fingers twitch, testing the cuffs, but there's no give. No way out.

Every muscle in my body is awake now, my instincts screaming to fight, but I know better than to struggle—there's no point. I can feel the cold, steady weight of the situation pressing down on me. I've been in worse.

Then the door opens, and the world seems to still.

He walks in, like he's always known he'd be the one to find me. James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier turned Avenger. There's no mistaking him, even after everything.

His dark hair is tousled like he's been running his hands through it again, and his eyes—they're still stormy, unreadable. Broad shoulders tense beneath the black shirt, and that damn set of dog tags hanging from his neck like a reminder of the man he used to be. The man I once knew.

For a moment, he just stands there. His eyes lock onto mine—steady, unwavering, but they linger longer than they should. The same way they used to. I see it then—something flickers. Something deep and buried, and I wonder if it's the same thing I've been hiding all this time.

"You always did know how to make an entrance, Sova," he says, his voice a low drawl, like he's almost amused.

His boots echo across the room, slow, deliberate steps that feel like they carry the weight of everything between us. Despite the restraints, despite everything, I tilt my head, that old smirk tugging at my lips.

"And you still get off on tying people to chairs, huh? Miss me that much?"

There's a twitch in his jaw—just the smallest shift in his expression. It's not quite a smile, and it's not quite a threat, but it's enough to remind me of the tension that has always been between us.

"You shouldn't be here," he says, his voice hardening, his gaze colder. "HYDRA's been sloppy if they let you fall into our hands. Or maybe..." He leans in just slightly, his voice dropping, low and almost dangerous. "...you wanted to be caught."

The words hang between us like a charge in the air. I swallow, the weight of his gaze anchoring me in place. We've crossed paths before, done things I'd rather forget—but neither of us ever dared say what was really between us. It wasn't something either of us could afford to admit.

The silence stretches, thick and heavy with everything unsaid. And I realize—he's still the same. The Winter Soldier. But something in him flickers, something that might be... regret? Or is it just curiosity?

"You're not walking out of here unless I say so." His voice is firm, but there's something in the way he stands, something in the tension of his shoulders that tells me he's not as sure as he wants me to believe. Not fully. Almost... unsure. Almost.

He leans forward just by my ear "But then again, you never did like following orders."

The words are a challenge. His gaze sharpens, and for a moment, I can see the soldier in him—measuring, calculating—like I'm just another target. I guess I forgot that in this situation I am just another target.