Flashback
Lovell Quinn Dame
October 15th, 1943
It was cold. Freezing. The floor was rough and dirty and the stench was making her nauseous. She couldn't remember where they had taken her. There was a truck, a ship, a plane. Her head was pounding.
At last, they locked her in a cell and left her alone. Peace at last? No, it wasn't peaceful. There was the constant sound of marching and groaning from other prisoners. She crawled to a corner of the cell and huddled together, trying not to focus on how cold she was.
"Setzen Sie ihn hierher! Zola wird ihn später bekommen," A voice barked and Lovell held her breath. A loud groan was heard as something fell to the ground and a cell door slammed against the wall. What language was that? German?
"Beobachten Sie es. Die Hexe ist da drin," The voice whispered and she heard footsteps scurry away from her cell. Hexe. That was the German word for witch. She had realized what it was when all the men kept saying it around her.
Except she didn't feel like the powerful witch she knew she was. She was so drained, so tired. Not wanting to fall asleep again, she fought the pain in her body and stood up to inspect the cell. Small, dirty, cold, dark. She placed her hand on one of the walls and tried to summon her power, chanting under her ragged breaths. If she could just see where she was...
"So you are a witch?" A low voice asked. Lovell jumped and held a hand to her heart. Goodness, the voice had almost scared her to death. She looked to the cell across from her and saw him.
A handsome young man with brown hair and the bluest eyes she had ever seen. He was tall and looked strong. And he was American. Lovell hesitated, looking up and down the hallway before taking a step closer to the bars.
"Who said anything about witches?," She whispered, keeping her face stoic and her voice as low and as threatening as she could make it. What's to say this guy wasn't part of this whole operation? What's to say they didn't put an American across from her to play mind games on her? The man, who was leaning against the wall and holding a hand to the crook of his elbow, furrowed his eyebrows with an expression that read "Really?"
"Well considering all anyone is talking about is a witch and you're one of the only dames in here...and the fact that you that started mumbling some crazy Latin nonsense-" The man interrupted himself with a groan, his body sliding lower down the wall. Lovell swallowed nervously, rushing to the bars to get a closer look.
The man looked down and pulled his hand away, red with blood. Lovell gasped and she felt pity for him.
"What happened? Are you...are you alright?" She asked hesitantly. A small smile graced his face as he chuckled awkwardly. Lovell thought it was one of the most beautiful things she'd seen in awhile.
"I'm fine, doll. They just keep yanking those darn needles in and out of me," As he said this, he noticed Lovell's eyes become more worried, "But don't worry about me, I'll be alright."
"Why are you here?" She asked and though he was looking at her, his eyes were somewhere else.
"I was fighting in the war until we were ambushed. I was working until I fell sick. They decided I was of a...different use to them," He kicked the floor and angrily shook his head. It was silent for a moment before he spoke.
"What 'bout you?" He had a slight accent that she was noticing and she half smiled. She would recognize a Brooklyn accent anywhere. Her family's neighbors were from Brooklyn and you could hear them loudly arguing with each other all the time.
"I'm a witch, like you said, remember?" She joked, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere but the man seemed like he wanted her to go on, "They, whoever they are, tried picking a fight in my apple and I...well, I'm a good witch, I guess you could say. Don't like anybody picking on anyone who can't defend 'emselves. I confronted them and...showed my cards and I suddenly become of much more interest to 'em, like you said. They said they wanted monsters, so they took me." The man's mouth had dropped open a little and Lovell suddenly felt embarrassed.
"But I swear I'm not that bad," She rushed to add, but the man only smirked.
"Aye, if you don't got a broomstick and cauldron hiding anywhere, I'd say we're good," She bit her lip, half-smiling, and just shrugged, "Plus, you remind me of my buddy. Could never just sit his ass down from a fight." She laughed. Aurelio would say the same thing about her.
"So what's your name, doll? Surely someone as beautiful as you has a beautiful name I can call you." It was Lovell's turn for her jaw to drop. There was no way this boy was flirting with her in an international prison right now.
"Oh my. Why, sir, what does it say about you flirting with me in a dump like this?" She teased.
"Nothing 'bout me, just that I can't deny you're the most beautiful sight I've seen in a minute. Not taking any chances to hold my tongue," He said and Lovell was suddenly reminded that the truth was that at any moment, he and Lovell's lives could end right here in these cells. Instead, she smirked and made a hmmm sound.
"Making fun of me, doll?" He frowned, but his eyes were shining and she tilted her head.
"No fun, just everyone knows charmers are trouble...Mister...?"
"Barnes. Sergeant James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky," He said.
"Dame. Miss Dame. But you can call me Elle," Right as she spoke, the doors at the end of the hallway slammed open. She jumped at the sound, but when she realized they were coming towards her cell, she moved back. They thrust open the door and grabbed her in a tight hold, their nails piercing her pale skin. She screamed, fighting against them. Before she left, she heard Bucky yelling to her. One of the guards banged her head against the wall but the last thing she heard was...
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Hey! Hope you liked this chapter, and if you did, don't forget to vote! I was away for these past two weeks and tried to post this chapter but it didn't work. What do you think of the appearance of Bucky Barnes? How are Parker and Lovell connected? Also I hope you all like the new cover! STAY TUNED!
First Translation: Put him here! Zola will take him later.
Second Translation: Watch. The witch is in there.