Bruja

⠀↳⠀1.1

( O n e )
Present

The super soldier shot up with open eyes and a gasp.

Another night, another nightmare.

The sheet he used as a blanket partially covered the lower half of his body. It was almost shredded from his constant tossing and turning, trying to get whatever was on him off.

It was a reoccurring nightmare, one that he has a love-hate relationship with. He hated being reminded constantly of what happened that night, but it was better than seeing what else he did. The familiarity made it comforting, which made him feel guilty because he already knew what happened after the event. He did live through it, after all. The one thing that always stuck out to him was her face... Her young, terrified face.

Even under HYDRA's control he still had some sense when it came to children. He knew not to do anything to her—and he didn't—but the fact that her shaky hands were holding a gun and pointed at him, the fact that she thought of trying to put a bullet into his body to protect herself always made him feel guilty because he was responsible for that. He triggered that fight or flight.

He can't imagine what she saw after he left because he saw the same thing: scattered bodies lying around like scrap pieces of metal. He could only imagine the look on her innocent face when she saw her parents after what he did to them, one that wouldn't compare to the look she gave him.

Him.

He has this thing with his therapist to make amends with the people he did wrong as the Winter Soldier. The girl was at the top of his list. He had trouble finding information about her since the last recorded document was the killing of her parents. After that, it was like she disappeared. No family members were even mentioned—if there were any living ones. There have to be living members...

He was determined to find her. He wasn't going to let missing information be an obstacle, and if she had to be the last person he'd make amends to, then so be it. He will apologize to her and whether she forgives him or not is up to her. He just hoped she was still alive for that to happen. He begs for her to still be alive.

If she was, she had to be close to her thirties by now, maybe younger if she didn't survive the Snap. She looked no older than ten but also no younger than seven. Would he even recognize her if he saw her now? Would she recognize him?

He looked at the clock. Using the light from the TV, he read it was 1:47 AM. It was a new record since he went to sleep right away at around twelve.

Looking at the window covered by a sheer curtain, he removed the sheet and stood up.

🥀💀🥀

This was stupid. Why in the hell did he think stepping foot out of his apartment was a good idea? It didn't help that he wore all black, basically his whole closet. And if it wasn't black it was either gray or muted colors.

He huffed as he placed his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He always wore gloves, but because it was dark, he decided to give it a try and leave them behind. He was already feeling naked and uncomfortable without them, making him badly regret his decision.

Walking down the familiar street, he kept his head low. He glanced up for a second to spot someone walking in his direction. Not wanting to make eye contact, he looked down again.

With his fast pace, he expected to have passed by now. He glanced up to see no one. He even looked around to see if maybe they crossed the street, but no, not a single soul other than his... or so he still debated.

Did he still have a soul after all that he did?

Did it disappear when he turned into the Winter Soldier?