Soldat?/ Солдат?

5.5K 117 61
                                    

Warning: Cussing

Okay, P.S., the Russian words in the italics don't look the same when in normal, but they are accurate so bare with me. Also, Russian isn't my native language so if I missed spelled anything let me know.

The italics are the past

The normal words are in the present.

ENJOY!!!!

* * *

You were thrown into your cell once again. 4 years of being Hydra's toy, their living experiment. They slammed the door shut making you slightly jump at the sound. You miss him, you miss your Солдат. They assigned you to him as his toy, his new punching bag.

But, he never used you. He only protected you as best as he could. When you were thrown back into the room, he'd come and fix your wounds or try and calm you down. He never knew why, he was supposed to be feared, he was supposed to be ruthless, and angry. But, he wasn't. He was the kindest person you've had even under all the pain and torture he goes through. It was vice versa really, whenever he'd be thrown in after a mission, getting wiped, or even torture, you'd help him. At times, he forgets who you are but he never forgets to help you.

He was sent on a mission one day, but he never came back. He never came for you. You tried pushing all the horrible thoughts like he's dead, he dosen't need you, or even he's been moved to another base in the back of your mind. You've always had hope that he'd come back, but now? After 8 months, you accepted the fact he wasn't coming.

You accepted the fact he didn't need you.

Thrown in the room, bleeding and multiple scars, they slammed the door shut causing you to yet again, jump. You got off the floor and stood up holding your side, your legs begging to give out but you wouldn't let them. You looked around the room. 2 cots and nothing but floor. You gritted your teeth at the figure in the corner, they stepped out the shadows and you backed up. All the way up.

"Почему ты здесь?" Why are you here?

His voice was a thick Russian accent. His metal arm shining in the light, blue eyes, his brunette hair down to his shoulders, a suit covered in weapons. Weapons that scared you.When you didn't answer he stepped closer, backing you into the wall. He scanned you. Your left side was hurting, blood on your hands, and scars on your face. Yet, even scared you still had that fire in your eyes. He didn't want to hurt you, he just wanted a response. He wanted a reason for you being with him, being in here.

"Почему ты здесь?"

He asked again. His patience already running low. Your breathing hitched when he put both hands on the wall, his body blocking you from escaping. Looking him in the eyes you saw he was somewhat like you, scared, lost, but hiding under thick skin. You let out a shaky breath and looked away from his gaze.

"Я больше не знаю." I don't know anymore.

He hummed in response but never backed up. He continued to study you, his eyes drifting too every curve, every hair, every inch of you. He then removed your hand to see the wound on your left side, you didn't even fight to keep him off you. You were tired. You just let what ever was going to happen, happen. He saw the deep cut and examined it before taking a needle, thread, and white bandages for your side. He stitched it up quickly, as though someone was watching. He wrapped it with the bandages and backed up.

Leaving you confused.

"Убери ее." Get her away.

Another day of torture, they dragged you away from the table and threw you into the same cursed room. You hit the floor, your body aching and your voice muffled by the muzzle they put on you, you got up as they slammed the door yet again. You didn't jump, it's become a normal thing for you now. You stitched up the new wound and slid down the wall knowing they'd come back before the day ends.

James Buchanan Barnes Imagines Where stories live. Discover now