•{Condemned}• 2

{15}•Delirious•

                              [15] •Delirious•

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HER MIND wakes before her eyes open. She struggles to comprehend what caused her to lose consciousness.

She peels her eyes open, squinting as a harsh lighting greets her. She swallows, her mouth dry. The pain from the fall has eased to a dull ache. She glances around the bare, concrete room.

She opens her palms groggily, realising the lack energy flowing through her veins. She lifts her head, her neck protesting as she does. Her arms are restrained above her head with familiar cuffs binding her wrists. Her brows pull together, her feet barely touching the ground.

Her eyes fall over her attire. A loose black t shirt and shorts. Her feet are bare. She clamps her teeth on her bottom lip, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest.

Her eyes settle on a figure in the corner. "You know I can break these?" She speaks threateningly, despite her pounding heart.

Zemo nods. "I do. But you know I can knock you out with a flick of a switch."

She blinks. He smiles at her ignorance. "I didn't know that you were oblivious to the chip in your head. It does add a certain element of... irony." He steps over to her, scanning her face. "HYDRA placed a small chip in your brain. An 'off-switch' if you will. In case you got out of hand. It's controlled with this," he holds up a small rectangular remote-like device. "It makes my job a lot easier."

"You're HYDRA?" She wonders quietly, dread filling her.

He presses his lips in a line humorously. He paces away from her casually. "You are more powerful than you know."

She breathes a shaky exhale. This can't be happening. Not again.

"I won't kill them," she interrupts bluntly. "I don't do that anymore."

"You won't if you remember them," he replies gently.

Her breath hitches in her throat. She can't suppress the fear that washes across her features. The object that tore Bucky away from her on so many occasions flashes in her mind.

He dips his head, stepping back over to her. "Don't worry, not right away," he breathes. "This has to be done properly and I am in no rush."

He brushes a stray strand of hair behind her hair and she clenches her jaw, resisting the urge to flinch away. He studies her. "I'm afraid you're too strong for the wiping to work sufficiently as of now. In a few days..." he trails off, sniffing as he moves away from her.

She doesn't have the strength to conjure an unbothered reply, as if this isn't scaring her to death.

Because it is.

He stops by the door, his eyes crinkling as they settle on her again. "This will be your greatest ever mission."

                          >>^^<<^^>>

She strains for the first few hours to keep herself conscious. Her arms scream at her, her body weight already too much to hold. As hard as she tries, she doesn't manage to stay awake. The wound on her rib stings sickeningly.

Zemo left her in darkness when he walked out of the room. Whenever that was, she can't tell. Dehydration becomes a large factor in her disorientation. She sways slightly every so often, due to a jolt when she wakes.

She tried calling for him, to say what, she didn't know. But it's irrelevant because he never came.

Eventually, the girl was driven to blame. They told her they'd protect her, that this would never happen again. But it did.

And where are they?

And yet, they are who she murmurs for when she sleeps and who she longs for.

Sweat escapes from every pore on her body and she wonders whether he's made it purposefully hot in here.

The days seem endless and her pain only seems to worsen. Each day without her powers is a day she feels weaker. He doesn't bring her anything to eat, or drink, but she hadn't expected it anyway.

Every so often she finds herself forgetting why she is here. Those moments are fleeting and somewhat blissful.

"How do you feel?"

She hesitates, believing she's imagined the voice. Slowly, she forces her eyes up to find Zemo's. She sighs weakly.

He hums, taking her silence as his answer. She swallows, her mouth painfully dry. "How long has it been?" She croaks.

"Three weeks."

She inclines her head fractionally, all the movement she can manage. "You'll break your arms if you keep hanging like that," he remarks.

She blinks slowly, her eyes on the floor. "Stand up, Soldier," he barks.

And she does. Despite the protest of every muscle and bone in her body she forces herself to stand on her weight. Because I'm her delirious state she has fallen into old habits. Old routines. Like following orders.

"Do you remember your mission?"

Her brows pull together, the concentration hurting her mind. "Yes."

He nods, stepping forward. He raises his hands, releasing her restraints, the cuffs remaining on her wrists. Helpless, she collapses into a heap at his feet.

She doesn't struggle, she barely understands when Zemo pulls her along the floor out of the room. She fights to keep her eyes open.

He drags her into a hard chair. A metal chair.

She clenches her fist.

Come on, El.

She glances around as he straps her arms to the chair. "No," she murmurs, suddenly panicked.

"It's alright, it'll only hurt for a little while."

She only repeats the word. Again. And again. Until she's begging, tears spilling onto her cheeks. He offers her a solemn expression.

"I'm sorry, truly I am."

She shakes her head violently, but his hand stills her. He pushes a rubber piece into her mouth.

She pulls against her restraints determinedly, now uncontrollably sobbing. "Please don't."

She can't forget them.

He pulls the metal headpiece down, settling it around her skull.

"As I said: it isn't personal."