Contrary to popular belief, WS-42 had a name. Names were a sacred thing. They had no value in Hydra, though. You were always spoken to with your designation and that only. It was easier to just forget your name in Hydra because names are for people.
The things that Hydra does to their Assets, you just don't do that to people.
It's just easier to not have a name.
But WS-42 had one. Faintly, behind the muddled mess of memories that come together in jagged strings after being tortured and put in The Chair, the Winter Soldier remembers a word that other people had used to call him.
[A word other than slave, WS-42, Winter Soldier, Asset, Soldat, dog]
James.
The Winter Soldier was James or James was the Winter Soldier.
I am James.
I am not the Winter Soldier.
In Hydra, Assets talk about themselves in the third person. Assets are things; just tools to be used. Assets are not people. So then why would the Asset speak about itself using things like I and me?
But I am James.
I have never wanted to be the Winter Soldier. I didn't ask for it. I didn't ask to survive the training and brutality.
My spirit died but my body had lived on.
James had died, but the Winter Soldier had been born.
For decades, I have been a part of Hydra. Maybe not a part of Hydra, but a forced member. Despite everything that they have done and told me, I will never willingly be a part of their evil organization.
All I can remember, other than a few broken flashes [of a young boy with blond hair and blue eyes], is being used for Hydra. The torture and training. Being cryofreeze and only taken out when they needed the Winter Soldier to kill a target and perform a mission. For decades I, no, the Winter Soldier has served Hydra.
I just cannot understand what this small child in front of me has to do with all of this.
All I can remember is when Hydra pulled out the Winter Soldier inside of me and forced me to follow their orders.
Orders. Orders. Orders.
That's all WS-42 was good for in Hydra. I, James, was never one for following orders. But Hydra works by stripping you of what you were before.
I am not James. I am the Winter Soldier. I serve Hydra.
Hail Hydra.
Days continue to pass, with harsh training and hours of fighting, and little to no actual communication between me and the little boy. I feel terrible for what I am doing, but I'm just a prisoner in my own body. They say the words, they call for the orders, and my body works without my mind even catching up to it.
In theory, the child is good at fighting, but it's too reliant on its powers, which, again, is painfully obvious that it had just gotten them. The child is small and has no name so, in my head, I just call it "my child". It's not my child, though. Relationships and emotions are terrifying in Hydra. Dangerous to have and not allowed to be shown.
Have I come to care for this child? I don't know.
They read the child too cruelly. On top of the little food and sleep that is provided and the hours upon hours of fighting and training, they unnecessarily torture this kid and do experiments. I can hear his screams through the walls as they cut him open without anesthesia.
What do I call this kid? A he or an it?
Assets are tools for Hydra.
The rules ring out in my head – the rules that were beaten and instilled inside of me – but I can't help but wonder. Under the Winter Soldier, I was a person named James. This kid was taken to be an Asset for Hydra, but who was he beneath that?
I will call this child a he. He is a person. Even if Hydra refuses to admit it, I will. My own silent rebellion against them. Because, if I also treat this child as an it, I will be just as bad as Hydra.
Today was a harsh day. S-20 had lost another one of the fights and, because of his failure, he was electrocuted and beaten harshly with the metal bats that the Hydra guards strap to their belts. I stood and watched, my head held straight and my hands clasped firmly behind my back, but I stared blankly ahead so I wouldn't have to look at the young child being beaten black and blue and until his bones snapped.
I was returned back to the cell while the guards took S-20 away to be experimented on. He was thrown back into the cell roughly three and a half hours later, blood and grime stuck to his skin. The boy was completely passed out, his face ghostly pale and his eyes shut. The guards dragged the boy in between them because he wasn't even conscious enough after their experiments to hold his own weight.
He had lines and lines of new lacerations maring his back, clearly deliberately made from a knife.
They were trying to understand his healing abilities, I thought in my head, as I saw some of the smaller and thinner cuts were already healed. The cuts ranged along his back from small and thin cuts to long and deep cuts that were bleeding profusely. Even if his body was trying to quickly heal it, he was far too malnourished and weak for his body to do so.
If my own powers were something to base it off on.
I remember when I first got my abilities and these same tests were performed on me. I was alone and in pain and too hungry and weak for my body to heal itself before I was dragged out of my cell for the next session.
This child was not alone.
"My name is James, I think. Will you safeguard it for me? After everything, my memories are hard to keep up. It'll be our little secret."
The child seemed to calm down after I told him my name and stopped squirming so much, so I quickly went back to the task of stitching him up.
"I-I don't know my name. I was taken when I was very young. I don't remember anything else."
My heart broke for this kid, but now was not the time for pity. I finished stitching him up and I helped the kid sit down on his mattress. Carefully taking a seat next to him, hoping I wasn't overstepping my boundaries, I placed my arm over him and pulled him into a gentle hug.
"That's okay Darlin', I'll stay with you. One day, we'll be out of here together and we'll find your name."
"Really? Promise?"
I didn't want to promise him anything. How could I say those words knowing that it was something I couldn't keep? What promises could I make with Hydra?
"I promise, kid," I whispered, pressing my lips against his matted hair.
YOU ARE READING
Not Anymore
FanfictionS-20 has only ever known one thing, Hydra, until one man came into his life and showed him that there was so much more. That man was his first friend. His older brother. But after one night, the two were ripped apart and S-20 cannot even remember hi...
