Soldier Boy

8

*Inessa*

After waking up with a horrible start to the day, I decided to let off some steam. Even though I had a full closet dedicated to my personal arsenal, I needed a wall dedicated to practice. It wasn't unknown that I was a expert marksman, but there was something about the skill it took for knives. The ability to to wield a piece of metal, deadly for some, a grace for others. Seeing the truck full of sharp blades, I smile. But I gotta start with my favorite one.

Painting a fairly sized dot on the center of the wall, I step back, reaching behind my belt for a knife. My baby. I always had it tucked in my belt, easy for access, but unseen by others. Just in case. Flipping the blade in my hand, I look around the wall. It seemed thick enough, so I throw it, hitting dead center. Smiling to myself I walk over, pulling it out of the wall. Mid turning, my eyes drift down to the floor, and in the corner of the room something reflects light from the rising sun through the windows. Tilting my head I walk over picking what ever it is up, and what it is haunts me. A screw.

-

Slumped against the wall, I hear and feel the screams in the halls, bouncing off the metal doors. Little scurries pull my attention, and I slide my head off the wall, looking at the corner. A rat runs around the room, scrounging for food, before it darts off. Running behind the flipped over metal chair, it takes refuge, hiding from the loud stomps coming from the hallway. Looking at the chair, I see something that's poked out, like a bone from under skin. A screw.

I roll onto my knees, slowly crawling my way over, the rusty metal cuff tight around my ankle. The chins rattle a little as I shuffle over, but soon the chain goes tight, and my ankle is pulled. Reaching my arm out, I grip the cold metal, pull the chair closer, as quiet as I could.

The metal door screams open in front of me, and by awful instinct, I crawl back into the corner, making myself as small as possible.

"What are we doing here?" Feet tap their way to the chair, picking it up, examining it. "Ah." I hear metal scrape against itself, and the chair is tossed aside. "Is this what you were wanting?" The feet walk closer to me, pausing just half a step away. Suddenly my head is jerked up, a tight grip on my hair, pulling me closer. "Answer me when I talk to you!"

I swing my feet, kicking them in the gut, forcing them to let go. I crash back onto the floor, catching myself before my head knocks into the wall.

"You think your strong? Your mind and body," they stand, dusting their hands on their pants. "Weak." I groan pushing myself up. "You have no power."

"Power belongs to those who take it." I hiss, never looking at them. Frowning to myself in regret, I was probably going to be beat for talking back. The usual cycle about to repeat itself. But they were right. I am powerless. I tense my body, waiting for a punch or a kick, but instead a small tink sound falls next to me.

"You may get out of those shackles, but you'll never be free." The feet shuffle out of the room, the door locking behind them.

-

*James*

I bolt up, panting with sweat covering my body, soaked in my sheets. What the hell?

"Buck?" Steve calls me, gently knocking on my door. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." I answer, pushing my sweaty hair off my face and neck. I hear his feet walk away, and I lay back down, my eyes staring into the ceiling.

I think back to the small hands reaching for the chair, and the voice I heard. Inessa. Right. For a moment I forgot about our situation, being able to.. whatever you'd call it. A tie between us, being able to communicate without saying a word. I guess that dark cloud from the base had something to do with it. It's been a few days since then, and we haven't seen each other since the last time in the lab.

Was that a dream or a memory? I knew it wasn't mine, so it had to be hers. Not only could I see and hear everything, but I felt the fear and emptiness, not being free. I've felt that myself before. But none of this made sense. If this was a memory, when was she taken?

-

*Inessa*

I didn't realize I was on the floor. Tears threatening to fall. Just breathe. I'm fine. I survived. It's all just a memory now, nothing could happen to me. But the tingling in my hands started again, and I look and watch the black creep up to my palms, but I wasn't panic from the memory left, and I was oddly calm.

I hear my door open, feet walking closer to me. I didn't turn around to see who it was, I was too entranced with what was happening.

"Hey, hey," Small hands wrap around my cheeks, pulling my chin up to look at Nat. She looked worried, but I couldn't find the words to tell her not to. "It's okay." Her fingers push the hair out of my face. "What can I do?" I look back to my hands, but the black kept moving up, almost to my wrists.

"I don't.." I mumble.

"Just try to calm down." She soothes, but I was calm. Too calm. "Does it hurt?"

"No." I shake my head. Suddenly my skin slowly turns back to normal, the dark color receding back down to my finger tips.

"Inessa?" I hear a gruff voice behind me, making my head snap too look.

"James." I sigh. Nat helps me stand, walking me over to the couch, sitting me down.

"Can we talk?" I hear James's voice, turning to look at him. I nod, slowly turning back to Nat.

"Why don't you go get Bruce." It was more of a request than a question, but she seemed to understand. Looking at James, she nods, leaving us alone in the room. When the door shuts, I pat the seat next to me, beckoning him to sit. Here we go.