SOMEWHERE NEAR DC, 2014

└── 【🕷࿐°*˖✧⋅⍟⋅✧˖*°࿐🕷】 ──┘

The day prior, Noelle had been disturbingly content with James' new idea, the concept of freedom. It had made her feel safe, content, hopeful, all new things, and words that Noelle wasn't sure she had ever felt before, but after being jolted awake by flashes of a past that felt like pins and needles, burning across her whole body, Noelle was immediately reunited with the fear and simple self preservation that had kept her alive all this time.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her heart pounded in her chest, the steady drum like beating long forgotten, as it thundered against her rids, and seemed to fill the room with its rapid echo. Noelle's eyes fogged up, as her nose began to burn with repressed tears, and terror. "Солдат?" Soldier? Noelle croaked, sniffling, and wiping her eyes as she looked around the room for him, or at least any evidence that he was still there at all.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Noelle usually tried not to cry, it never ended well for her. Crying was a good way to draw attention to yourself, which was, in Noelle's experience, terrible. Freeze, hide, do as told. Then again, there was no one there to tell her what to do, and Noelle was scared, so scared, so she began to wail even louder. "Солдат?" Soldier? She echoed again, peeling herself out of bed and taking a few steps into the middle of the room. "Soldier!" She tried again in English, hoping that his new favorite language would draw him out of hiding.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ To her left, towards the bathroom, Noelle caught the sound of urgent shuffling, and the tell tale click of a lock. James' presence filled the space almost immediately, as the cheap door creaked open, and he wiped the remnants of something frothy and white from the corners of his mouth, something Noelle quickly recognized as toothpaste.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Home!" She shouted at him before he could say anything at all, watching as his simply expectant expression morphed into concern, and then straight into confusion, with perhaps yet another heaping spoonful of concern. Noelle never raised her voice, yet there she was, voice high as he had ever heard it, except for when she was screaming.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A chill ran down his spine, and guilt settled somewhere deep in his gut, and perhaps in the back of his mind too; he could almost hear it, the awful sound of her being dragged away, and the knowledge that he had done nothing. He shook it off, tilting his head at her. "Home?" He asked simply, voice gruff.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Noelle made a frustrated gesture with her hands, squeezing them into fists in front of her, before shaking them out as she tried to formulate a thought. "Нам нужно вернуться, Солдат! Они причинят тебе боль!" We need to go back, Soldier! They'll hurt you! She tried again, finding the words she needed much faster this way. "Они убьют меня, пожалуйста! Нам нужно идти!" They'll kill me, please! We need to go! The girl screamed, and for an instant, James froze.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ James knew that he had seen Noelle afraid before, but this wasn't just fear, or her anxiously awaiting the inevitable, this was pure, unadulterated terror, the kind he had seen in the eyes of so many before, the kind of terrified you are before you die. She really did think she was going to die.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Words continued to spew from her, a record amount, perhaps more than she had uttered in her entire 11 years, all as she attempted to convince James to turn back, to take her home- if they went back, HYDRA couldn't be mad at them, she had said. But James knew it wasn't true. With a sigh, he crouched down, his covered knees hitting the scratchy carpet. He was almost at her eye level this way. "We're not going back." James stated simply, his tone strong, sharp, instantly putting an end to Noelle's screaming. This was a plan, an order. Noelle could follow those. He swallowed before saying the next part. "And no one is going to lay a finger on you."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ For Noelle's easiest understanding, James repeated it again in Russian, watching as the girl heaved in a few deep breaths, beginning to regulate her breathing. "Обещать?" Promise? There was such sincere worry, written on her face, and tied into her voice, and James wasn't sure if he could answer. He wasn't sure he could look into her beautiful blue eyes and promise her something he wasn't actually sure he could achieve for her, but when she extended her pinky finger, he knew he had to.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Noelle had picked up the concept of pinky promises from a job in England. She had seen a group of girls on the street promise each other something, and had practically forced James to explain it to her- and by forced, she had asked once, near silent, but polite as ever, and James hadn't had the heart to tell her no. She had been doing it ever since.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Обещать." Promise. He answered her, if solely to appease her, looping his flesh hand's pinky around hers, and allowed her to squeeze, a brief look of satisfaction crossing her face, before a tidal wave of guilt washed over her, face and posture alike.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her brow furrowed, and her bottom lip quivered. "I'm sorry." She whispered, in English, like he had taught her the night before. "I'm..." Noelle shrunk into herself, arms crossed against her chest, suddenly embarrassed by the way she had wailed before. "I'm scared, Soldier."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "James." He stated suddenly, despite himself, perhaps not focusing on the right part of what she had just said. It was his job to take care of her, to comfort her, he knew that, but he couldn't resist telling her what little he knew, giving her the only solace he had. Identity.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Noelle's head cocked to the side, her tangled hair falling all over the place. If not for her sudden outburst, and the tension in the air, James might've laughed at it, plucked a few pieces out of her face like a tiny voice in the back of his head told him he ought to. "What?" She asked.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "My name, it's James, not Soldier." James explained, still on the floor, looking straight at her. She pondered it for a second, silently sounding it out, before attempting it. He was sure it was a name she had seen before, but there weren't actually many names she had had to say.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "‎James?" The little girl tried, sniffling a bit as the remnants of her terror faded away. Noelle was always captivated by new things, and something told James that he was going to have to learn how to use that to his advantage, as scummy as he instantly realized that sounded. "James." She said this time, with more confidence, and a little smile. "Noelle and James." She liked it.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Noelle liked it a lot, she decided, the idea of them both having names. The fear threatened to encroach again. She liked it, but it was new, it was different, it was something they hadn't been allowed before, except for on missions when they were assigned names that had never really belonged to them, just the same as the numbers and project titles that had been spat at them. HYDRA would wipe them both if they found out, but as her eyes began to sting again, she looked at her Soldier- her James, and took a shallow breath.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Hungry?" He asked, watching as she thought it over, before nodding slightly. James produced a little folded flier from his pocket, one he had procured from the lobby earlier that morning, and pushed it gently in Noelle's direction, almost studying her as she wordlessly took it from him. Her touch was feather light as she began to turn it over and inspect the words, words he could tell she was having a tough time understanding. "Look good?" He prodded.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Noelle nodded slightly, and James, trying to figure out in a matter of seconds how to keep her calm, decided they would just go eat now, without Noelle getting changed and spending what was probably a little too much time by herself. So, he extended his flesh hand towards her, slowly, but just as expectantly as the day on the bank of the Potomac, and Noelle, still clad in her pajamas, took it like it was the simplest, and easiest thing to do in the whole entire world. Though if she were to be entirely truthful, it was.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Grabbing the leftover handful of cash HYDRA had given them in case of emergency, James led her out the front door, and locked it behind them, struggling with the key in his only available hand. The hallways, Noelle noticed, were just about as dingy as their room, but Noelle didn't mind. It was nice. It looked like people had lived here.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She took in a deep breath, and held it in her chest for a moment, letting it sit lightly in her lungs, much in the same way she had held the rat. The rat. She shuddered, but tried not to think too hard about him and his grotesquely mutilated tissue. It wasn't working very well. It was the sort of image she couldn't quite scrub out of her mind. She didn't want it back. She didn't want it. She didn't want her past back.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ James felt the way her nails dug into the callous flesh of his palm, but pretended not to notice and kept walking forward. It was all he knew how to do at this point. Keep walking, keep walking, keep walking until something makes sense. James planned to walk either until they reached that little diner, or until he figured out exactly who he was, or frankly, who he had been in the time long before Noelle, and his metal arm.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ With the only thing he knew definitely held tightly at his side, James broke out into the clear day. The sky was blue, the clouds were sparse, and the noise was almost deafening. He understood that he should be happy, that he should enjoy it and his newfound freedom, but at the moment it was just too much. All of it was so loud, not just the bustling and lively outside, but the noise inside his own head. He frowned.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Noelle's grip on his hand subconsciously tightened, and when he peered down at her, her eyes were wide, and her fragile chest was heaving as she sucked air in through her mouth and pushed it out through her nose. She looked like she had just run a marathon, or maybe she was preparing to run one.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ James had a speedy realization. If he thought this was loud, Noelle must've been deafened. He was more used to this than she was, sure he was out of practice, but this was a little girl who hadn't known what snow was until the first time his boots had tracked some of the white powder into her cell.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He gave her hand a reaffirming squeeze, drawing her blown pupils to meet his own eyes. Noelle nibbled on her bottom lip, before latching onto his side, pulling him into an odd sort of hug. He gently rubbed her back with one of his hands, weighing his options in his head. "Хочешь, я заберу тебя?" Want me to pick you up? James asked in Russian, smoothing out her tangled brown hair as best he could.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Noelle's face was jammed into the side of his ribs, her shoulders covered by the inside of his jacket. In the span of the past minute or so, James realized that Noelle had essentially tried to burrow herself into his ribs. Without really moving though, she nodded, eyes screwed shut. Noelle was eleven, sure, but she didn't weigh very much, just about as much as your Halloween skeleton, so James doubted he'd have an issue carrying her.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Crouching down to her level, he tucked his metal arm underneath her, and hoisted her up. She went sort of limp, her limbs just dangling like she was playing dead. However, the way she hid her face in the curve of his neck, shielded by his newly cleaned hair, told him that she was still alive.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Using his spare arm to support her back, James smoothed out her hair. "Ты у меня есть, принцесса." I've got you princess. He wasn't exactly sure where the parental instincts were coming from, but he quickly decided to just take the win. James had spent the last hundred years, as he had gathered, covered in blood he had never wanted to spill, so if kindness still came to him naturally, he wasn't going to complain, not once.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He was going to protect her. Noelle was the only thing he really knew at that moment, the only thing he could cling to, focus on, and see in his arms. His thoughts were scattered, blurry even. Some of them were locked away, some were sinking into dark water he couldn't see the bottom of, and others had pieces strewn across the floors of his head, but James could see her, feel her, real and breathing.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Noelle, Noelle, Noelle, Noelle. Her name echoed in his mind, like a prayer, like a mantra, to the steady beat of his heart, the very same heart her hand was lingering over now, like feeling the ever steady melody of it could calm her somehow. Maybe it did, because her breathing slowed, and she hooked one of her arms around his neck and squeezed.

─── © aliza_d_nubby