Project 1940S

Chapter 16

I wasn't sure what hurt the most. The first stab, the second, the third, or the last one. Ribs, arm, leg, and side. Each one seemed to hurt more in the beginning, but as time passed, some of them seemed to dull out and flair up. I had long learned not to move, because that would cause the pain to flair dramatically, especially in my hip and rib. 

I was drifting heavily in and out of consciousness. I was hoping that someone would tend to the wounds after some time, but the man seemed content with letting me die of blood loss before he took care of me. 

I couldn't imagine that Steve and Bucky were the same people as Captain America and the Winter Soldier. They seemed so different somehow. . . but I had to remind myself that I didn't even know the superheroes in the first place. 

I supposed when I saw them, I would really see it then. And when they spoke, I knew I would recognize their voices. There was just no way I couldn't. 

I knew that the fifth hour had drawn near as John came into the room, holding his fifth knife. It took time for me to focus on the knife, seeing that it was different from the other blades. 

The others had been thin, sleek daggers. Smooth going in and almost no pain until I realized I'd been stabbed. But this one, this was clearly designed to hurt. There were teeth, sharp and jagged along the blade, the handle smooth and plastic like a kitchen knife. I knew it was going to hurt more than the others and tried to brace myself, causing pain to flare up through my entire body. 

On the positive side, my headache was gone. 

"I really thought they'd be here sooner." John whispered, dangling the fifth knife in front of my face. "But then again, I suppose they would've been here sooner if they hadn't come in with any uh. . . plane difficulties." 

Plane difficulties? What could that possibly mean? 

I hated the anticipation that came with the man standing here. One time, he had been here for only a few seconds before he stabbed me. Another time, he had waited an entire half hour where I was tense the whole time, just waiting. I knew we were closer to the hour mark this time, but I wasn't sure by how much. 

I closed my eyes, deciding I would focus on the other things. Like the cold metal encircling my wrists, which hung weakly by my sides. The sounds of dripping water, each one making an excessive splat sound as they hit the stone of the floor. 

I heard the man rustle, standing up, coming over to me and kneeling down. "I want your eyes open for this one." He whispered, one hand grabbing my jaw. He dangled the knife right above my right one as he jerked my chin up. 

"Let her go." The voice sent jolts up my spine, recognizing immediately as not only the authority of Captain America, but also that of my Professor. I couldn't see him, but I just knew it was him and I knew that John Garrett had been right. 

"Twenty seconds to spare Captain." John chuckled, standing up, twirling the knife in his hands. Now that he had released my chin, I could see the both of them standing there. They had complied with the order, neither of them wearing their masks. 

If their identities were leaked, it was my fault. They'd never be able to teach again. It would kill Steve. 

"What did I say?" John chuckled, throwing his arms wide. 

"Stay with us doll." Bucky warned as my eyes fluttered shut again. I knew I shouldn't sleep, but I felt so damn tired. 

"Hmm, that's probably my fault." John shrugged. "It's good to see you again Captain. The last time I saw you, I was just a little boy and you murdered my father in front of me."