Sharp Edges

Chapter Three

Yelena was always restless in her sleep; she tended to sleep for an hour or so at a time and was easily awoken. It was dark in the room as her eyes fluttered open and immediately felt something wasn't right. There was what felt like static in the air, the hairs on her arms beginning to stand on end.

She was being watched.

She didn't move for a long few moments, mind churning until she very slowly turned from her side onto her back, eyes searching the room. The duffle bag Bucky had been resting his head on was still there, but Bucky wasn't. Before she could open her mouth to speak, though, she saw him standing in the corner of the room.

"Bucky?" she said quietly, sitting up to flip the light on beside her. As she saw him more clearly, it was his eyes that had changed. They were cold, calculating, and distant. "Bucky isn't here right now, is he?" she muttered, unable to stop the shot of anxiety that shot through her body.

James continued to stare at the woman he saw in front of him. His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed. He didn't recognize her.

Don't. Panic. Careful not to move too quickly, she pushed the covers off of herself and turned to set her feet on the floor. "Soldat?" she asked, her right hand reaching to wrap her fingers around the hilt of the hunting knife she had on the bedside table. Just in case.

Hearing his given name, James stood straighter, at full attention. "Zakazy?"

The Winter Soldier. Her breath quivered as she exhaled, her heart pounding in her chest. He doesn't have any orders. It was a reminder she needed for herself, but she kept the knife pressed against her forearm in case.

"Ty znayesh' kto ya?" she asked, slowly standing up.

James shook his head slightly, his eyes becoming suspicious. "Zakazy?" He questioned again.

Orders. He needs orders. Will any orders work, or only specific ones? Stop panicking. It felt a lot like coming face to face with the boogeyman. So much fear had been instilled about the Winter Soldier. Hydra's influence still had its talons in her thoughts. "Spokoyno, Soldat," she managed to say, swallowing hard as she took up a more defensive stance... in case.

Blinking slowly, James' shoulders dropped, and his stance relaxed before he looked down towards his bag on the floor. Silently, he walked over and sat against the wall, but watched the woman across from him.

Holy shit, that worked! As he sank onto the floor, she forced herself to breathe a few deep breaths, nodding to herself. Yelena relaxed her own stance in kind, and once he seemed settled, she reached behind her to rest the knife she'd been holding on the bed. Then, holding her hands out to her sides she took slow, careful steps towards him. "If there's someone named Bucky in there, I'd really like to speak to him," she said as if he were possessed. Which... it looked like he was. She took a big step and lowered herself onto one knee slightly more than arm's length away from him.

"My name is Yelena. I'm not here to hurt you," she said, watching his eyes for any reaction, good or bad.

James blinked as he watched the woman in front of him. She looked a bit familiar, making him furrow his brow slightly. "Yelena?" He questioned.

She nodded affirmatively. "Yes, Yelena. We've met before, in Bucharest," she offered as a breadcrumb, moving towards him just a bit further. "I helped you. We... we're helping each other."

An inkling of recognition showed in James' eyes as he watched her every move, his arms resting in his lap. "Yelena," he repeated.

Exhaling out of a little relief, she sat herself on the floor more completely now, crossing her legs. She nodded at that small amount of recognition. "We're... friends," she described gently. Her eyes moved over him, the tension in his body having abated some. It was risky, but she decided to carefully hold out her hand to him. If he wanted to reach out, he could, but she wouldn't push.