Second Sphere

Soldier, remember

I don't know what year it is. That's never important for missions. This is the first mission in some time we have been able to do. No longer was Zola leading our missions, apparently he died at some point but I could care less. Our latest handler, Karpov was finally taking soldier out of the cryostasis chamber, a tool I never needed. I haven't aged, I still look like I'm 22, although I can tell a long time has passed since 1945. The technology, the world around us, it changes and grows while we remain the same. Tethered.

Karpov was doing one of the things I hated, wiping him. Every time they do I can feel his pain, feel them pulling apart soldier, he feels so empty after. There is nothing left but training and his shattered mind for a time. Slowly he will warm back up to me and then they will ice him again and I will be left here, waiting. Begging them not to doesn't change a damn thing, it only makes it worse. First they tortured me whenever I would act out. But that lost its effectiveness, so they would torture him instead. That would break me. So I will sit and wait, appear when they need me to and stay by the cryostasis chamber when I'm not needed.

When the wiping is done we are led into a debriefing room. Soldier doesn't look my way, and I can't use any mental influence on him without Karpov noticing. That is one thing I missed about Zola, for as smart as he was he was still an idiot. I could comfort Soldier mentally let him feel some peace.

I'm snapped back to the moment when Karpov calls for me. "Throne, you're sitting this one out, you are on extraction and watch only. There will be no omen."

"What do you mean there is no omen Zola never-" I'm cut off by Karpov slamming his hand on the table in front of him.

"Zola isn't here. You will accompany the soldier but you will stay hidden unless he calls for you. It's a two day mission. Get there observe for a day and then secure the serum kill stark and anyone with him. After you will return it here." Keep the serum safe in..." he gestures up and down to my chest, "whatever that is. Your orders are clear now prepare to leave."

"Yes sir" soldier and I both said in unison before leaving.

The cargo hold of the plane was quiet. Soldier and I sat across from each other on the floor. He was going through guns, checking everything again and again. I stretch my wings out further to get a bit more comfy. "Soldier." I say softly. He doesn't glance up.

I scoot closer to him and try again gently placing a hand on his leg, "My soldier please."

He looks up but his eyes are the same as a frightened animal, cornered and unsure of its next action. His mask hides the lower half of his face, more of a muzzle than a mask.

I speak softly trying to make my tone as comforting and gentle as possible, "Soldier remember. Remember me, remember you." He let's me slowly get closer and I place a hand on his temple showing him memories of our prior missions, of being pulled from the river. Trying to focus more on any positive moments than any of the torture and experimentation we both endured. And I can feel his mind slowly piecing things together, our ritual from every mission, where I pull him back from the brainwashing enough for us to remember what good times we can have in our otherwise bleak lives.

When he looks up at me again I can see the recognition in his eyes. His voice is gruff and scratchy from not talking for so long, "Throne."