A Birdie Lost in Time | Bucky Barnes

|16|

It was familiar being taken through the medical tests, although the equipment they were using was different from what she recognized.

She was used to cold, shiny metal, but here, everything seemed to be... plastic. She obviously knew what it was, but the abundance of it was strange to her.

Regardless, the speed the medical staff worked was familiar too. They asked her questions, giving her strange looks when she couldn't answer; like when they asked her to confirm the date. Although, even when she could answer they looked perplexed. But as they prodded at her, taking samples of blood, putting her into an MRI machine, she finally felt she was in her place.

It took some hours until they finished with her, and through all of it, the Soldat waited patiently, just out of sight.

"Is he to be my handler?" she asked the woman she decided was the head doctor.

Her brows scrunched before looking over to the Soldat's shadow that was being cast on the privacy blinds from where he stood in the hall.

She didn't seem to know what to say. It was the same when the girl explained what had happened to her in more detail. Why she was near a grenade, who was with her, when it had happened.

"Something like that," the woman said, finally looking back to her. "But no one is your handler. You decide what you do now."

The answer sent alarms through her; that something was wrong. The basis of her existence was to serve, to obey, and this person was telling her not to.

Enemy, she decided.

So, without a second thought, she slipped off the medical bed, pulled the clipboard the woman had been using from her hands, and swung it over her head. She didn't go down, but it was enough to faze her, enough that the girl could grab her neck and spin her, pushing her backwards onto the bed where she started to choke her.

Enemy, her mind repeated.

It didn't last long before hands were pulling her off, and a familiar voice was barking.

"Stand down!"

She'd been ordered that so much today, and she didn't understand why. But she followed the direction.

"Soldat, ona vrag," she said.

"No, she isn't. No one here is an enemy."

"She says I have no handler, that I am to make my own decisions. That is not possible, so she is an enemy," she said, unable to make her mind form the words in Russian. Even in her own language, she had difficulty putting the issue to words. It went against everything the girl knew, everything she'd been taught.

It went against her very being.

"No one here is an enemy, is that understood? You are not to harm any of them," he ordered.

Ordered.

Good.

"Understood, Soldat."

He let out a breath, hands releasing her shoulders before nudging her to move out of the way. "Are you alright?" he asked the doctor, helping her up from the bed.

"I'm fine, nothing I haven't experienced with other shell-shocked," she nodded, eyes jumping to the girl. "Think she'll follow what you said?"

"I think it's the only thing she knows."

"Right. Well, want to tell her to stay in that bed? She can't be jumping around like that with her leg and arm in that state. I'm not even sure how she's functioning, but I just gave her a top up of pain medication, so it should start kicking in soon. I'll be back in four hours to replace the bandages. And, I should have her test results by morning."