There's nothing quite like a shower after a workout. The icy cold water running down my body feels like a blessing on the bruises I've accumulated from missions and training. The sunlight streams through the windows, and as I stand in front of the mirror brushing my hair, it seems to glow like fire.
I start to smile at my reflection. I'm no longer as emaciated as I was the day I arrived, my skin no longer has that ghostly pale tone, my hair isn't matted, and the wounds on my body no longer come from sleeping on hard floors. My dark circles have improved too, which surprises me because this job is certainly not easy, but I must be getting more rest than before.
Some nights I sleep peacefully and soundly, but then there are nights like the last one, where I can't fall asleep, toss and turn, dream of things I've never seen before, and wake up sweating. Since joining S.H.I.E.L.D., Steve has been appearing more frequently in my dreams. I haven't mentioned this to him because I worry he might find it strange. Nat doesn't know everything either, as I'm concerned she might tell him, which would be awkward. There are moments before he became Captain America, where he looks very different from how I've ever seen him, and then there is this other person. He always calls me "witch," my favorite nickname. That's how I came up with the name Red Witch. But who is he? Will I ever find out why I dream of people I've never met and why these dreams feel so real?
A sudden knock at my door pulls me out of this spiral of thoughts. I wrap a towel around my upper body and open the door slightly. Steve is standing there. I'm about to apologize again, fearing that's why he's here, when he speaks first.
"Don't you dare apologize again," he says with a smile. I'm beginning to think he might be able to read minds, which is not good. Maybe I should work on not letting all my emotions be so readable on my face because that's really out of place in this job. "I was thinking of going to this exhibition about me and the Howling Commandos. Do you want to come along?" he asks.
Normally, I'd make a snarky comment, questioning if it's a bit self-centered to go to an exhibition about oneself, but I hold back because I know how important this is to Steve. To see what he and his team achieved back then and to reminisce about his long-deceased comrades. "Give me 5 minutes to get dressed, I'll meet you at the entrance," I say quickly and close the door before he can respond.
A short time later, I meet him downstairs, and we head to the garage. I've never seen so many cars in one place. This room holds about 100 of them, all equipped with the latest technology and defense systems—really cool. Today, though, it will be Steve's motorcycle. He swings onto the seat, and after I put on my helmet, I sit behind him. Ten minutes later, we arrive at the exhibition and enter the building. Steve is wearing a cap to hide his identity. I'm also wearing a hood to cover my face and, especially, my red hair. If our job has taught us anything, it's how to blend into a crowd, even as a notably broad guy and a woman with fiery red hair.
In the room, there are replicas of aircraft from the war hanging from the ceiling. Even these are enormous, and I wonder how big they must have been in reality. "A symbol for the nation, a hero for the world. The story of Captain America is one of honor, courage, and sacrifice," a voice announces over the speakers. As Captain America, Steve has saved the world more than once, from Hydra. Without him, this world would be a very different place, and that's why people love him. "Rejected for military service due to poor health, Steve Rogers was chosen for a unique program in American military history. A program that made him the first super-soldier in history." Steve has told me about his career. He was rejected by the military, which deeply upset him as he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, who fell in the war, and then he got the chance to undergo this experiment. Despite all the warnings, he did it. "Proven in battle, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned many victories. Their goal: the annihilation of Hydra, the Nazi science division."
Steve and I continue through the exhibition until we stop in front of a picture. I'm struck speechless. "As best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable, both on the playground and on the battlefield." A sign reads James Buchanan Barnes 1917-1944. This man. This face. This smile. It can't be. "Barnes is the only member of the Howling Commandos who lost his life in service to his country." He looks exactly like the person in my dreams. But how is this possible? I've never seen a picture of Bucky before, but I know it's him.
The walls are closing in on me. I can't breathe. I'm dizzy. I hear nothing, yet everything is too loud. A weight is pressing on my chest. I start to tremble. I feel nauseous. What is happening? I run out, not thinking, unable to do anything else. I have to get out. When I make it outside, I throw up.
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As promised in the last chapter, something more happens here. Elora finds out who the man in her dreams is. Who would have guessed it's Bucky (a surprising twist)! It follows with complete confusion and even more questions. How much do you think Steve knows?
Until next time <3
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Who the hell am I (english version)
FanfictionUPDATES EVERY DAY AT 5 PM! She remembers nothing. Where did she come from? What happened? How did she get here? Where is her family? In short: she doesn't know. For two years, Elora has wandered, never staying in one place for long. Always searching...
