❛   𝐬𝐢𝐱   ❜

❝ i've seen what you truly are,
and i've never turned away. ❞

"ANASTASIA, you know I care about you a lot, and I think Bucky would give me hell if he saw you fighting in the war," Steve smirked to one side, ambling along the sidewalk with her.

She hummed in acknowledgement, closing her eyes for a moment to let the sun warm her face. "Yeah, I know. But I made a promise to myself."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" He asked, peering up at her. She was taller than him with those damn heels on. He wondered how she went day after day wearing them.

"When I left home, I swore to my parents that I would join the army just to prove to them that Hydra will lose," she told proudly, grinning widely. "I would rather drop dead than join that organization."

Steve couldn't help but let a chuckle out when she visibly shivered in disgust. She let out a deep sigh, pausing to take off her red pumps.

His eyes went down—them being the same height now.

Holding the heels in one hand, she linked arms. "Now, let's go see a film. I heard they're playing The Wizard of Oz at the theatre."

Anastasia's nose wrinkled as she stared at the ground. The memory switched suddenly as if it was a television channel.

"I know," Anastasia sang softly, staring into Bucky's soft gaze. They laid together in his bed. "You belong, to somebody new..."

She leaned up, feeling the thin blanket fall away from her nude torso. Bucky leaned down, feeling their lips graze. "But tonight...you belong...to me."

The scene changed once more, melting away.

A scream ripped from Anastasia's throat, causing it to go raw and irritated. Her wails echoed down the corridor, going ignored by all those who could hear it. They had washed her minutes before, stripping her down before dumping cold water on her skeletal frame.

She curled up in the corner of the showering area, pressing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. The room was quiet and dark, and her body trembled with terror.

The metal door swung open and she gasped when a group of agents flooded the room. She screamed again before trying to back up more. She was grabbed by her arms, forced to her feet. The men didn't seem to care about her nude state, not drying her off before shoving undergarments on.

She fought back as best she could, but it was futile. They dressed her in tactical pants, a black compressive shirt and thick boots. After, they dragged her out of the room and towards her cell.

Anastasia's blurry gaze searched left and right, passing many other Hydra followers who only gawked back at her.

When they passed a room with the door open, she spotted Bucky slumped in the corner. His hair was slightly grown out, and he was dressed in his military suit. She gasped again, this time louder.

"Jesus—JAMES!"

Planting her feet, she pulled away from the men's grip. They shouted in protest as she ducked under them and dove into the room. Her knees scraped the ground, falling in front of him. More tears fell as she grabbed his face and lifted it.

He was unresponsive, sporting a black eye. Her breathing started to grow shallow, feeling a panic attack rising in her chest. "B-Buck—"

She felt the men tear her away just as she ran a gentle hand through his hair. "NO! PLEASE! I NEED TO SEE HIM!"

Before she left, she craned her head back. "BUCKY!"

Anastasia flinched away as a doctor dressed an open wound on her arm. She was stripped from her armour; now only having a black wife beater to cover her torso.

Rage bubbled in her chest from the sudden memory surge. "DON'T—" Her arm swung around, punching him away from her. "—TOUCH ME!"

She stood up quickly, curling her torso down to glare at him. Her back heaved greatly, flashing the taut muscles in her shoulders.

The doctor shrank away, holding up a hand in surrender.

The STRIKE agents in the room already had their weapons raised at Bucky, but half shifted to Anastasia who sat at the other corner of the room.

She hadn't noticed Bucky's own outburst at the engineer fixing his bionic arm.

The steel barred-door to the vault suddenly opened up, drawing the attention of a few agents and doctors.

"Sir? H-He's unstable. They both are. Erratic!"

Anastasia's eyes shifted, watching as Pierce and Rumlow stalked into the room. Pierce silently ordered for the guns to be lowered before glancing over at Anastasia.

He turned back to Bucky, frowning. "Mission report."

When both assets didn't respond, he nodded at Rumlow before looking at Anastasia. Rumlow walked up to her, grabbing her and roughly pushing her to stand beside Bucky.

"Mission report, now." Pierce pushed, growing impatient.

He bent to be eye level with Bucky, suddenly slapping him across the face.

Bucky blinked, unfazed by it. He turned to gaze up at him, face contorting in thought. "That man of the bridge..." his eyes turned away, distant. "Who was he?"

"You two met him earlier on another assignment," Pierce answered easily.

Bucky paused. "I knew him." He turned in his chair, gazing up at Anastasia.

She felt the weight of his stare, forcing herself to look down to meet his eyes. He wanted to say more but kept quiet.

Pierce grabbed the chair from the fallen engineer, sitting in front of the two. He looked between them. "Your work has been a gift to mankind. You both shaped the century, and I need you to do it one last time."

Anastasia's chin and bottom lip quivered with ire. She clenched her jaw, ceasing her movement.

"Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning, we're gonna give it a push. But, if you can't do your parts, I can't do mine."

Bucky's face hardened before softening again, not know how to feel.

"And Hydra can't give the world the freedom it deserves," Pierce added, glancing up at Anastasia.

He purses his lips, gazing up at Pierce. "But I knew him." Bucky stared up at Anastasia after, "I knew you too."

Anastasia's face slackened at his open comment, fully aware that she recognized him too.

Pierce frowned again, getting up from his chair. He turned to the man who spoke to him outside the vault. "Prep them both."

"They've been out of Cryofreeze too long." The timid man replied, wringing his hands.

"Then wipe them, and start over." Pierce simply said, stepping out of the room.

Rumlow watched as Bucky and Anastasia stare at each other, seeming to have a silent conversation with just their emotions. He wouldn't admit it, but he felt a small pinch of sympathy for the two—knowing their romantic history in the 40s.

STRIKE agents approached Anastasia, forcing her to sit in a nearby chair while Bucky got prepped for wiping first.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒
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this one is a little shorter than
the last one (like 1000+ words only
...oops) anywayssss, sorry for
the shorter read 🥺 i hope you're
enjoying so far and it's not too
confusing