Saving Grace

Chapter XIII

Grace's Point of View.

She didn't know where she was. It was warm and soft. A hand gentle cradled hers. Warmth, gentleness.....these were practically foreign ideas to her. Maybe she was dreaming. She had better not tell her masters about her dreams. They would mock and hurt her; they always did. She opened her eyes. It was light, very light, and the warmth did not fade. Completely opposite of the HYDRA facility she lived in, where it was always dark and cold. Maybe she had finally pleased her masters. Suddenly, she realized the hand was still holding hers. She lifted her eyes to meet light blue eyes full of.....Concern? The huge blonde, blue-eyed man holding her hand said something, but she didn't understand it.

"Where am I?" she asked. Her voice sounded weak. She could not be weak; they always hurt her when she was weak. Her eyes roved the room and found another man standing at the foot of her bed. His dark hair was shaggy and half-obscured his face. A five o' clock shadow cover the lower part of his face. Something about him felt slightly familiar. Both of them did. Maybe they were with HYDRA and her masters. "Who are you?" she asked.

"What is your name?" the one at the foot of the bed asked. She could understand him!

"I have no name. I am the Shadow," she answered automatically, knowing that was what he wanted to hear. That was what her masters taught her to say.

"I am Bucky," he said, then pointed to the other man. "This is Steve. We are here to help you."

"Help me? To prepare for a mission? Have I been chosen for a mission?" she asked. "I am ready." She tried to rise, to show him she was ready. She must not appear weak. The one called Steve gently placed his hands on her shoulders, lightly pushing her back down. He said something, but, again, she did not understand him, though the words were starting to sound familiar to her. She looked up at him. Worry and something else she could not name shone so strongly from his blue eyes, she could almost feel it physically, like a warm blanket wrapping around her. For a brief moment, she wondered what it would like for this gentle giant to hold her. She just knew this man would not hurt her....

She shook herself mentally. They always hurt her eventually. Some pretended to be her friend to catch her off her guard, but they always hurt her in the end.

Steve's Point of View.

Grace spoke in German. His brows furrowed. She had never even been to Germany, and now she didn't seem to understand English. She and Bucky made a few exchanges. At least she was talking; that was a good sign. Bucky had hardly spoken at first when Steve found him. Suddenly she was trying to get up. He quickly and carefully pushed back down.

"Not yet, you're not strong enough, Grace." He said gently. She looked up at him, confused. It broke his heart see his Grace looking at him like he was a complete stranger. "Just rest, Gracie," He whispered, tucking a golden curl behind her ear. "I'll be back soon," He brushed a kiss to her forehead, then rose and left, Bucky following him. Steve pressed the button for the common floor. Leaning against the elevator wall, he let his head tip back. "She doesn't even know me, Buck," he said brokenly.

"Steve, surely you knew they would wipe her memories," Bucky reasoned.

"It doesn't make it any easier," Steve answered as the doors opened. He headed straight for the kitchen.

"What are you doing, Steve?"

"Making her soup. She's gotta be hungry."

"Okay," Bucky could tell when to leave Steve alone. He headed into the living room area.

"How's Sleeping Beauty?" Tony asked as Bucky came in. Bucky lowered himself into a chair with a sigh. "She doesn't remember us at all," he answered. "and she's only speaking German right now."

"I'm sorry, Bucky," Pepper said.

"Well, we just have to do for her like we did for you," Clint said.

"I already had broken from HYDRA," Bucky said. "She still thinks she part of HYDRA." Bucky leaned forward, forearms on his knees, and lowered his voice. "I didn't tell Steve what she said; she thought we were there to give her a mission."

The room grew quiet.

"At least we know we have our work cut out for us," Nat finally said. "Where's Steve?"

"Kitchen," Bucky answered heavily. "Making her soup. I think he wants to be alone right now."

"Poor guy," Clint shook his head and glanced toward the kitchen. "I'd be devastated too if that was my sister down there."

Steve stood in the kitchen, stirring cubed chicken into the broth he had made along with a little of the leftover chopped carrots and celery from the salad. The only sounds he heard were the faint murmur of his team's voices in the living room, the light bubbling of the simmering broth, and his own ragged breathing. His trembling hands nearly dropped the lid when he tried to cover the pot. He leaned heavily against the counter for a minute, then turned and let himself slide down the lower cabinets next to the stove. Tipping his head back, he leaned against the smooth wood. The image of Grace gazing up at him with her huge blue eyes, unrecognizing, fearful—fearful of him—haunted Steve and sent another stab of pain through his longing heart. He loved Grace; she was his sister that he was never able to say a proper goodbye to.