REMEMBER ME (BUCKY BARNES & NATASHA ROMANOFF)

3. THE DOLL

"Are we sure she's the one we've been looking for?"

"Of course. We never lost her to begin with."

You blinked slowly, trying to make sense of the words being spoken. It was like you could hear them, but processing them...You'd always had problems processing, but this time...it was different. It was like they were speaking in a different language, almost like English but not quite. You wondered if it had anything to do with the device they strapped you down in.

"I don't understand. If you didn't lose her, why did you bring her back?"

A man chuckled, taking a step towards you. He bent down, looking at you in the eyes. You tried to focus on him, but you couldn't. It was like when you were so tired, you could barely keep your eyes open, couldn't see straight when you did have them open. What had they done to you? Was this what...No, where was that thought going? Was there something you were forgetting?

"We would have. But she found her way to the Avengers, and we don't kick a gift horse in the mouth."

"But Sharon was there. We didn't need another person to gather intel."

That name seemed familiar. Sharon. Did you know a Sharon? You blinked slowly, trying to jog a memory you couldn't quite grasp. Had you ever met a Sharon? Or maybe you'd met someone with a similar name. But then, why couldn't you think of another name? Why...Why couldn't you think of your own name?

Did you have a name?

"Sharon got confidential information. The kind of things you'd find in classified missions, in files locked away behind seven layers of security, things that have helped us rebuild. This one, though...She got us the kinds of things you can't get in files and reports." The man looked back to the smaller, scrawnier man who wore a lab coat, then back to you. He reached out, tapping your cheek. You scrunched up your nose, but couldn't find it in you to jerk away, to say something, to do anything. "Stupid little thing didn't even understand why she was drawn to Soldat. And yet, she's gotten us everything we could have ever wanted about how to not make the same mistake twice."

Soldat. The name...title?...made you wince. Soldier, you knew it translated to. You weren't sure how you knew. But it left you with a bitter taste on the tip of your tongue and, if you hadn't been strapped down to the chair, you might have jumped forward and bit the man. He didn't get to say things like Soldat. Soldat, whoever Soldat was, didn't deserve that.

"And you're sure we can't just move on to the next phase?? She has barely even reacted to anything we've said."

"But she has reacted. A principal flaw in Soldat was that we left too much of the man in him, left him too much wiggle room. No, we have to break her down wholly before we can go to the next phase. Only then will she be our perfect doll."

Was it a bad thing to be a doll, you wondered? You couldn't quite recall what a doll was, but...If it was any better than how you were now, you might take it. If it meant that you wouldn't be so confused. If it meant that you didn't feel a dull ache in the center of your chest. If it meant that you didn't wake up screaming and crying and being beaten til you shut up. Yeah, you might take that.

You'd take anything over this pain.

"Wipe her," the man said to the scrawnier one. "We can't let her spark grow to a flame."

The scrawnier one sighed, but moved to the machinery without complaint. He flipped some levers and your seat reclined back, metal clamping down around your head. Bolts of electricity jolted through you, and yet, you couldn't find it in you to scream. Perhaps they'd already won.