It's started off the same, like it always had, ever since Hydra had been in her head.
Warm, graceful hands, guiding her across a lawn, huge, smooth brown shoes running to greet her, laughter. Gingered locks fall into her eyes.
"She's going to be a red head. Just like you."
"And she's going to be strong. Just like you."
And then it always changed, right here, right when Robyn was spun around, about to see the woman holding her, the face she couldn't remember, the women who hadn't birthed her, but was still her mum, and the sky would darken, and change, and she was sitting on the stairs, clutching raggedy blanket, hearing a man sobbing softly in the room below.
And she would get up, and accidentally step on the creaking stairs, and the sobbing would be stifled as a mans voice, warm around the edges, would call out her name - but then it would be her, tears running down her face, rocking the the corner of the room, welts across her face, and there would be another voice, a mans again. But this one would be colder than ice.
"You failed us again Reaper. You failed me."
And she would be filled with such guilt, but she didn't want to do this, she couldn't do This, but Brody would be so, so disappointed in her, and she couldn't let Brody down. He was keeping her alive, wasn't he.
Wasn't he?
And then the bad man, the punisher, that's what Brody called him, he would come, or sometimes it would be a woman, and this was what she deserved, Brody said, and the lady laughed while she did it, and Robyn's world would fade away.
Then she would wake, drenched in cold sweat, and sleep wouldn't come for the rest of the night.
But that night. The dream didn't end there.
Reaper blinked her eyes open. She was cold. So very, very cold. And sore. And she was pretty sure the bed beneath her was wet. She rolled out, bare feet slamming onto the smooth tiled floor, the same floor she'd felt for two years. Today it was clean, something that happened rarely, the Punisher must have had their fun last night.
Reaper winced as she made her way over to the small sink, pulling another pair of stiff cotton trousers from one corner as she went. Yep. Definitely had had fun.
As she cleaned stiff tear tracks and dried Scarlett off her cheeks, the door opened, and someone walked in. Reaper winced again, expecting Brody. Expecting the man who haunted her every hour, awake or asleep, who could worm his way into anyone's thoughts.
Even hers.
But it wasn't. Instead she was met with the blank face of the soldier, and she jumped back in surprise. Three things immediately caught her eye.
1. He was shirtless.
2. This revealed where his metal arm joined his shoulder, covered with red, raw scratches, many bleeding.
3. For once, His face wasn't blank.
"The... the general said that I should use your water. Something about filthy water for filthy blood." His voice was soft, subdued, and not what she'd expected. I mean, she hadn't been expecting one of the most feared Hydra projects to walk into her room, and ask for a bath, but whatever.
Reaper stared at him for a second. "Are you the soldier, Winter, or someone else?"
He looked puzzled for a while, then looked down at his feet. "I- I'm not really sure."
"Sit down then." And she gestured to the still damp bed, flipping the inch thick mattress as she did so.
He sat. Reaper tore some cloth from some more destroyed items, and soaked it in the already murky water. She approached the man warily, like you might do a vicious dog, and perched next to him, reaching out to clean away the blood. He flinched at her touch, and she flew back, coiled like a spring. He watched her as she did so, his heavy eyes seeing it all.
"They don't control you." He muttered.
"No, they don't."
"But you don't want to be here?"
Reaper shook her head.
"And you... you've worked with him— me, before?"
Reaper nodded, and joined him on the bed, carefully pressing the rag to his shoulder, light but firm, after his faint nod of approval.
"What.., what's he like?"
"The soldier?" Reaper tilted her head, and was met with a nod.
"Kinda boring. Doesn't talk much."
The man gave a weak attempt at a smile.
"And who's winter?"
"You, I guess. Well not you. He's like... the soldier without the soldier part in him. Just.. a blank canvas."
"And... who are You?"
Reaper paused, and looked to the grimy walls.
"I... I used to be called.... Robyn, I guess. It's not my name anymore though. They took that from me. You remember yours?"
"Barnes. I think. But that's all. "
"Barnes..." Reaper paused, and narrowed her eyes. "Like... the Howling Commandos Barnes? James Barnes?"
The man, Barnes, stared at her, confused. "Sorry, could you... James Barnes? I don't..."
"You don't remember it at all? Doesn't bring up any memories? Most people at least remember a bit... at least till they get wiped again."
"You've been wiped?"
Shaking her head, Reaper looked to the floor, tugging on the loose strands of hair tangled across her shoulders. "Sometimes I wish they would."
Suddenly Barnes jumped up, staring her dead in her eyes. "No you don't! Steve always said that your memories make up who you are. Each layer of pain, and suffering and joy, and laughter. It makes up you. It's better to remember than to forget. Even if it hurts."
Reaper stared at him. "Steve? Steve Rogers?.... like Captain America?! That means... Bucky Barnes."
Barnes frowned. "Bucky..."
"That's who you are. But you... you died! My godmother... there's a whole article about you."
"I—"
But what he'd been about to say was taken away, as guards charged into the room, grabbing him, and pulling him away from Reaper. He cried out and Reaper leaped back, staring in horror as they dragged him off. As he was pulled out he gave one last shout, and Robyn caught it.
"I WON'T COMPLY!!! "
As his shouts died out along the corridor, Victor Brodokian made his way inside, the lock clicking beside him. Reaper stared panicked for a moment, eyes wide, before turning back to him.
"That was a test. You were monitoring the whole thing." It wasn't a question.
"We wanted to see if you were ready." His voice rang out, the voice she hated so much, that cut into her, that she still felt the urge to please.
"For what?"
"To comply."
The girl lowered her head, staring at the floor.
And then looked up.
Robyn shook her head slowly at the man.
"I will never comply."
Robyn jerked out of the dream, shaking, and rolled over to find comfort in Bucky.
But the bed lay cold.
Ready to comply Doll
He hadn't called her Doll in years. And it was one of the only things he'd never forgotten.
YOU ARE READING
The only good I've ever done (marvel)
Fanfiction(Bucky x Main Character ) Robyn. Born to Edwin and Ana Jarvis in 1984. now, standing on the doorstep, in 2012, she looks no older than twenty five. The Avengers tower was the last place she could turn, and in fact, she was rather reluctant to do so...
