Hydra Facility
Siberia
April 2014
"LOOK at me, Soldat," Semna ordered. Her voice boomed in the large and empty space surrounding them. She squared her shoulders, raising her chin towards the ceiling. "Am I nothing but a joke to you? Srazis' so mnoy."
The Soldier raised his eyes slowly, peering at her through his hair. Even from across the room, she could see the dark circles around his eyes and the paleness around his lips. His cheeks appeared almost sunken since the last time they sparred only yesterday. Semna had no idea what he was doing at night these days when he wasn't with her, but there had been no way to even find out with her onslaught of recent tasks.
The Winter Soldier remained still, swaying ever so slightly on his feet. Semna rolled her eyes, turning her head over to their commander, Andrik. "I told you, he's not going to fight today. We spent all day yesterday sparring." She began stripping off her equipment despite his disapproving looks. "He is too tired." She sighed heavily. "As am I."
"Bullshit," Andrik barked. Semna rolled her eyes again, unwrapping her wrists. "He is a soldier. Soldiers do not act like this."
"He just needs one day," she argued.
Andrik scoffed.
"If you allow me to act this way when I need rest, why can't he?"
Andrik looked down at her. Though he towered above her by nearly a foot, she refused to ever back down from him. When they met each other for the first time all those years ago, he had attempted to make her submit to him in more ways than one. He had threatened her silently on many occasions in the training room, showing off his belt of gleaming tools that she had never seen him use. He knew that as the lead man in the facility, he could get whatever he wanted from the only girl around.
The first time he tried to make a move on her, Semna flipped him onto his back and pinned him down. Semna had told him that she would rather die by Hydra's hands than be their desirable doll, only there for when they wanted to see her perform. The guards had attempted to shoot her, but Andrik quickly got over his shock and ordered them to spare her life.
This was only the first of many.
Every couple of months, Andrik would perform this exact act, and each time, Semna did the same thing, showing him just how much her skills had really improved since her initiation. Each time, Andrik seemed charmed by her disapproval and disgust towards him. Semna never understood his train of thought; he always seemed determined for a different outcome. He, like many others, had underestimated Semna's ability to withstand a fight.
"Fine," he finally said. "You can have today. Get him back into shape for tomorrow, dear." He smiled, walking from the room with his guards in tow. Semna had still never seen the guards' faces or heard them speak, but had certainly sensed their dread every time Andrik told them not to shoot her.
It was a mutual feeling.
She sighed and turned back to where the Soldier stood, still motionless. More of his hair had fallen in front of his face, long and greasy and disheveled. Semna had suggested countless times that he let her cut it for him, but he was stubborn with his ways. He still looked as young and as handsome as he was when she was seventeen, and got dragged into this room for their first spar session—or better known to Semna as the first time she was punched in the face by a metal fist.
Semna approached him slowly and placed her hand lightly on his shoulder. "We're done for today. Andrik said we can rest." His eyes remained locked on the wall. "James?" she whispered.
He started, blinking harshly and shaking his head. "Yeah, sorry."
"There is no need to apologize to me."
James looked her over, considering her. "Why do you let him talk to you like that when you could easily end his life?" he asked lowly, smirking. He swept a piece of hair out of his face, only for it to fall right back to where it was.
"Because I have better things to do than live on the lam," she joked. "I do not intend to mess with them after all this time. I am finally comfortable here." She nudged his shoulder playfully, motioning away from the mat. "Come on." She turned and led him through the doorway.
After coming back from her mission in America, Semna was quick to prove her loyalty and get a more appropriate space in the Hydra facility. It was down the darkest hallway, but she didn't mind. The room was a much quieter space than her old cell had been, mostly because this one had a thick wooden door she could close at her own discretion. Her room was tiny, and like her cell, had minimal light, provided by a small window and a lamp she had found abandoned in the basement. They had given her a twin bed and a single pillow to sleep on. The rest of the room had been put together by items she had acquired over the years to make it feel more like her own; more like a home.
The Soldier had a room of his own too, but he did not use it as often as Semna used hers. He was seldom allowed to leave training or missions long enough to even see his bed. But when he was able, he still did not go to his room. He went to Semna's.
"Did you remember something?" Semna asked, pulling him into her room and locking the door. She never knew who might barge in on her. She hopped onto her bed, fishing her hand into her pillowcase. When it emerged, she was holding a moleskin notebook she had stolen for herself on a mission.
James had frozen at the door, watching her whip out her pens and throwing the bed covers to the floor. "Semnadstat'..."
"James," she snapped. "What did I tell you about calling me that?"
"Sorry." He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Semna...I did not remember anything."
She threw her hands up dramatically, making a show of letting the notebook fall from her lap. "Then why did you look like that?" She stifled a laugh. James watched her solemnly. He had deja vu every time he told her the bad news, with the oblivious looks to him when she had gotten too hopeful for her own good. "What's wrong, James?" Her smiled faded, leaving tainted air between them.
"Semna," he said gravely.
"They're wiping you again," she stated matter-of-factly. "Aren't they?" Her eyes blurred around the edges. James could no longer stand it, sitting down on the bed and engulfing her in his arms.
"It will be okay," he whispered. "I've got you. It's okay."
"No," she sobbed, pushing him away. "I should not be the one crying. It is you that should be sad, James. I'm okay. Are you okay?"
He smiled lightly. "I'm okay." He swept a brown lock away from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. "I just miss you, is all."
"I miss you too," she choked. James attempted to hug her again, but she pulled away and began to pace. "It's not fair. It's—it's not fair. You did nothing to deserve this, James. You...you do everything you are supposed to do, you take orders from them to keep me safe when you shouldn't. It's not fair, James, it's not..."
"Semna."
James hugged her again, sighing at the shakiness he felt in her limbs. He knew that it was not only for his fate, but also for her own. Each step Hydra took against him was one step closer to them giving the same treatment to Semna, and out of all of the things they had done to her since her teenage years, this was the one thing she feared the most. After nearly thirteen years of friendship James could gauge her thoughts with a moment's glance and know exactly how to calm them, but now, he stood motionless in her grasp, an empty feeling at the pit of his stomach.
"Don't say anything," he told her, stroking her hair. "Just breathe. It will all be over soon."
. . .
They wiped him the next morning. Semna felt drained of all emotion when she heard the screams, hugging the pillow to her chest to muffle her sobs. She thought they had been done. She thought he had been through enough from them, but there was an endless list of sufferings in store.
They had a peaceful night together. It was not an unfamiliar routine for either of them, to spend the night talking and laughing before they wiped James. And usually, Semna was able to get his personality back to him within a month by reading him the old stories he had told her to write down, and showing him the sketches she included next to each one. But this time, everything felt final. She hadn't been allowed to see him yet this morning, and it was aching her inside to have to wait this long to see how he was holding up.
In all her years surrounded by girls, she would never have expected to be so close to a man in her lifetime. She loved James like a brother. He was the only one in this facility who understood her, just like Natalia had when she was still a student at the Red Room. But Semna preferred to keep the endings of the past away from her new present.
A loud bang on her door startled her out of bed.
"Kakiye?" she yelled. She gripped the baton that was inside of her pillowcase, ready for an intruder to barge in.
Instead, a guard calmly opened the door. Semna let go of her weapon when she saw it was Laslo, her regular escort guard. "They need you for a briefing," he said plainly. "New mission."
"New mission?" she spat. He looked at her questioningly—this was a normal thing for him to tell her. "Where is J—Soldat?"
"Downstairs."
Semna sat up and rubbed her dried eyes and around her cheeks. She was aware of how Laslo looked at her, like a rag doll who lost a piece of itself every once in awhile. Semna didn't much care, however; today she had lost the button of her dress, and she wasn't sure if it would ever be returned to her. She took a deep breath.
James may never be returned to who he was.
Semna slipped her shoes on, one of the only things she was given regularly by Andrik as a form of appreciation for everything she does for him. Each year he bought her a brand new pair with the money from his own pocket. This pair, number thirteen, had shoelaces tied into the shape of a snake, a detail that Andrik immediately approved of. Laslo guided her down the corridors with an urgency that he had never displayed before. Laslo was one of the few people here who treated Semna like a person; he often made small talk with her as they traveled together throughout the facility. But today he remained silent, and this simple thing unnerved Semna more than she would have imagined.
Together they went downstairs and straight into the facility's briefing room. It took up a majority of their basement, the rest of the space being used for storage and various forms of security equipment. Andrik sat at the head of their meeting table, a stack of folders in front of him. The procedure of a briefing was normally something that Semna would never think twice about. But today, Andrik sat with an inscrutable look, staring her down as she entered the room. He had reserved a seat for her right next to his, and—regrettably—across the table from the Soldier. All Semna had wanted was to see him, but she no longer recognized the man before her. Whoever this was, it was not her James. This James was cold, glaring at her with a scowl on his face that he would have never let her see merely yesterday. Nevertheless, she sat across from him, keeping her head down as Andrik handed her the files she would need for their mission.
Her blood ran cold as she opened the folder.
"Nick Fury is a menace," Andrik began, proudly demanding the room's attention. "He has tried to put a stop to our organization far too many times, and I for one have had enough." He stopped, placing a heavy hand on Semna's shoulder. She bit her lip, glancing up at James to see if he was looking at her. He wasn't.
"And I have full faith," Andrik continued, "that Hydra's two top soldiers can get this job done quickly and efficiently."
Semna closed her eyes. The last time she saw Nick Fury was also the last time she saw Natalia, with her head to the future and leaving Semna behind her. She would never forget the voice of the man that offered to take away everything that Semna had ever feared for herself and for Natalia, and she would never forget the pain of not being able to say yes. She had always had a secret hope that Nick was still out there, ready to give her a second chance if they ever came face to face again. And she suspected that wherever he was, Natalia was also right around the corner. But this mission would ensure that Semna would no longer have any hope of getting away from Hydra and Andrik, from the fear and the vicious nights. She could breathe a bit easier knowing that James was the one assigned to take the shot that would put an end to her desires.
Semna watched James. He already knew what was expected of him in this mission and did not appear to show any remorse as Semna expected her James would.
Her James.
She could hardly call him that anymore. This man, the one who was nonchalantly spinning a dagger between his fingers, was no longer a man she knew. This was not the man who held her last night while she cried and listened to endless hours of stories of her lost love, and of the life that she wanted to have had she ever escaped Russia. This man held uncertainty in his eyes and a coldness Semna could not recognize. He eyed each one of the fearful agents with loathing that would bring them to their knees to beg for their life. This man was not James.
This was the Soldat. The one that James had always feared Hydra would get out of him.
"And it is time," Andrik announced, bringing Semna back to attention, "to put an end to Nick Fury, and to all of SHIELD once and for all."
A/n: oh lord
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