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Chapter Five

1946

It's a Tuesday. This means nothing, except it's a Tuesday. I'm going through the files. Herr Zola has barely spoken to me since the guard assaulted me three weeks prior, but I have not been forced to interact with the guard, either. No one has called me to treat the Soldier since then, though I was being called to record dictation on all of his trial experiments...

...and I have not put my wedding ring back on my finger.

Honestly, it's better this way. I can't face him after what happened. I refuse to even meet his eyes when in the observation room. The one time I glanced up and saw him, his face a mask of rage, I immediately excused myself from the room.

Guilt and anxiety gnaw at my stomach whenever I even think about him.

I kissed the Asset - a man who was literally built and trained as a killing machine. He was barely human.

But, he held me, let me cry...promised to protect me...

I am staring at the files as they go blurry, overthinking the entire scenario. I tap one of my brown, leather heels against the dark flooring, clicking in my anxiety. Zola requested I begin to wear more "feminine" clothing unless I was to work with the soldier, so, I was sporting a blue dress that I hated the fit of to match. I fiddle with the cream-colored buttons on the front and frown.

I did make the soldier a promise...I would look into his friend, see what I could find. I look up to see that Zola's door is closed - the better for me. He isn't likely to catch me going through files that I shouldn't be. I quickly close the drawer that I was in, beginning to go through the alphabetical system.

If the prisoner's friend was important, he would have a file. I wouldn't have to find any further information if his friend really was powerful enough to find him...

I open drawers, checking the lettering as I flip through the American filing system. R...r...r...

I flinch when I see it. "Rogers, Steven."

Guiltily, I glance around, checking to make sure that I am fully alone again. I pull out the file and open it, quickly, ready to skim...but, the first thing I see, in giant red lettering, is the word, "DECEASED". Among the black, small print, I also see "Alias: Captain America".

My heart sinks and I feel slightly ill. No...surely, this wasn't the same man that the Asset was talking about? Surely...this man he was so hopeful would rescue him, his friend...someone who wasn't just important to James the Soldier, but who was also important to the world...

I feel my heart constrict. I can't tell him. Surely, I can't tell him. If I tell him, then, I'm the one that brings him pain...and he has already gone through so much...

Zola's office door swings open. I slam the file shut and shove it haphazardly back into the drawer, pretending to rifle around the drawer before I close it, gently. I look up, at attention to see Dr. Zola. I bow, respectfully. "Herr Zo-" I begin to say, but he cuts me off. I feel shattered and concerned...and guilty.

"Fraulein, I need you to look through the files on my desk and put them away," he says, quickly, not even looking up from the pieces of paper in his hands. I flinch. I fear I may have outlived my usefulness. He continues. "There is an experiment that I need to oversee. When you are done with the files, join me. Bring one of the folios, bitte."

I nod, "Yes, Herr Zola..."

I don't even finish saying his name before he has already left the office. I feel my shoulders hunch up toward my shoulders. I shake my head and bite my lip. Surely, outliving my usefulness would involve just a bit more fanfare. I skulk into Zola's office, my eyes downcast. "File away these secret things that no one else is privy to, Anna. Very good job, fraulein! The Asset is very fond of you, fraulein!" I mutter to myself as I comb through Zola's chaotic desk for "files". He has so much on his desk that I roll my eyes. So many pieces of paper clutter the area that it is difficult for me to be certain of what he actually wants me to put away.