Steve rogers x y/n

Chapter 19- prep her

I woke up to the agonizing feeling still burying into my shoulder. My forehead dripping with sweat as I laid on James's lap, his arm still clutching my wound.

"Hey, you feeling any better?"
He whispered, trying not to alert any guards.

I nodded my head, knowing I was lying.
If I don't get this treated within a couple hours, it would take a turn for the worse.

He let a small smile form on his lips. I loved to see him smile, I never saw it. Unfortunately the moment was cut short by a guard opening the steel metal door. I could feel James's grip on me tighten, not knowing what would happen next.

"вставать!" (get up!)
The guard stood at the door, staring at me.

"она не может пошевелиться, ей больно" (she can't move she's hurt)
James told him, trying to erase all emotion from his voice.

"мне все равно, она стоит или мы заставляем ее стоять" (I don't care, she stands or we make her stand.)

I could hear the whole conversation, despite being exhausted and my vision blurring in and out.

I attempted to stand, not wanting a fight to ensue. But soon enough I was back on James's lap, struggling to keep my eyes open.

I had lost too much blood. At this point I didn't care if they carried me, at least I wouldn't have to struggle anymore.

The guard waited for me to stop groaning before signaling behind the door, three more guards stepped in. They marched over to the cot, picking me up out of James's grasp.

I yelled in pain as he lifted my wounded arm over his. I could see the sadness and regret fill his eyes. He knew what was about to happen, even if I was totally clueless, I had an idea.

The guards lifted me as my feet dragged behind. The door slammed as I heard a bang from the cell. I knew James would lash out. I just hoped it wouldn't be bad enough to make them restrain him.

They pulled me down a long hallway, one I had never seen before. I thought I knew my way around this place, having grown up here. But it was more complex than I realized.

My vision was spotty, blacking in an out every few seconds. We stopped, my eyes shooting open to see what was going on. A thick metal door slung open.
Revealing scientists and doctors, all surrounding a chair in the center of the room.
The guards threw me in, landing on the hard floor.

A doctor came over, helping me up and into the chair. I didn't know what was happening. I had heard people talk about this room. But the second they said anything they were shot on site or never heard from again.

An older man with blonde hair and a grey suit walked in, a guard at his side. I recognized the guard, Rumlow.

He was an asshole to put it lightly. Always advancing on the girls in the program, even me once. But after I blasted him into next Tuesday, he didn't bother me much.

Unfortunately he was standing right in front of me, in power, and taking advantage of the fact I couldn't do anything to protect myself.

He gave me a sinister smile I could see from the corner of my eye. Turning my head back to the older man, he crouched down next to me, glaring.

"So you thought you could just run away and we wouldn't find you? Silly girl"

He spoke English. Which was weird considering everyone else here spoke either Russian or German.
I was taught Russian growing up, the motto being used, "you won't need any other language here."

I guess that wasn't the case.

I glared back at him, growing a small smirk on my lips. He didn't like that very much.

A cold hand whipped my face, as the wound on my cheek reopened. I yelped under my breath, trying not to show the pain. Crimson flowed. At this point I was tired of seeing blood.

He looked at me pressing my shoulder, as he moved my hand to inspect it. The blood had almost stopped, mostly because I didn't have much left.

He squinted his eyes in my direction, then turned to a nurse who helping a doctor.

"Pull up her files. I want to see what blood type she is." He turned to another doctor, hey! It was that doctor from the jet. "You! Stitch up her wound. I want everyone seeing who's compatible with giving her blood."

He leaned down, I could feel his breath on my face as I leaned back.

"We're not loosing our best assassin today."

The words stung like a stab wound, 'assassin'
That's all I was to them. Someone who was trained to kill and hurt people. My whole life based over this one word, a word I would be forever described as.

He turned to leave as I said as loud as I could, "лучший убийца? рана, не будь зимним солдатом?" (Best assassin? Wouldn't that be the winter soldier?)

He turned back to see the grin plastered on my face. I was fed up with these people. And it was going to take a lot more than a few words to break me, even he knew that.

I kept the smile, my eyes staring right into his cold ones.

The words uttered out of his mouth, "prep her. The chair goes up in 30 minutes."

Immediately the smile dropped from my face, as his rose. I knew what was to come. And I knew I wasn't going to make it out alive, at least I wished I wouldn't.