Taming The Ghost

Chapter 6

After eating, showering and changing into my pyjamas, I returned to my room/cell and tried to sleep. I moved about and tried any position I could get myself into but I couldn't get comfortable. So, instead of sleeping, I stared at the ceiling and contemplated life. My mind kept skimming over what Bucky had said to me earlier. "I don't want to hurt anyone." If this was true then that meant that he wasn't all HYDRA anymore, some pieces of himself had found their way back into the jigsaw of his mind, I just had to help him find the rest of them.

It was 2.30 a.m. when I finally slipped into a very light sleep. I tossed, turned and attempted to ignore the minuscule tapping and scratching coming from the cell on my right. Eventually, I gave up on sleeping because the solidity of my bed made it impossible. Instead, I listened to the sounds that were creeping through the concrete wall and, as I listened more intently, I thought I could hear quiet sobs. Confused, I shifted myself off of my bed, put on my slippers and grabbed my pass before exiting my accommodation.

The door slid open and I turned right to look through the window in the cell door next to me. Bucky was curled up on his bunk facing the wall and tapping his metal hand against it slowly. Knock... knock... knock.... Cautiously, I scanned my card in the scanner and pushed the door aside slowly, trying not to startle the soldier.

"Hey, Bucky, you ok?" I asked

"Surely you can answer that for yourself." he sniffled. Bucky's voice was raw and grainy like a record on a record player. He'd been crying.

"You know," I said as I approached his bed slowly, sitting down on the edge of it, "It's not your fault."

"I know it isn't, but I feel like it is. My body did those things, my hands killed those people, no-one else." he said still facing the wall but having ceased his tapping.

"It may have been your body, but it wasn't your mind. Those assholes had a hold of you and I know from first hand experience what its like to be under their control. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy..."

"What do you mean first hand experience?"

"I wasn't always an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. you know."

"What did they do to you?" he asked, bringing himself into a sitting position to be able to listen more closely.

"Well..." I said, reluctant to reveal my story. Bucky would be the first person I've told outside of S.H.I.E.L.D. And it struck a nerve to even think about talking about it again, but I started this conversation so I had to see it through. "...it was my dad. He worked for HYDRA in their science division. He had a brilliant mind, unfortunately he used it for the wrong things. For a long time, from when I was about eight, he experimented on me. He gave me hundreds of different concoctions and none of them seemed to work, or so he thought. What he was actually doing was building my strength and reflexes. Long story short, I did a lot of things that I didn't want to do and I regret every single one of them but none of that was really me, I know that now."

"Wow. I would never have thought... I'm sorry." Bucky apologised. I could see the sadness in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, all of that got me to where I am now so in a way I'm grateful that they screwed me up."

"I hope the same happens to me and I don't just relapse."

"You wont, I promise." I smiled, placing a hand on his right shoulder. He looked down at it and smiled.

"Will you... Will you work with me? You know, help me?"

"I don't know. It depends on who they put on rehab detail." I said

"Please try and get them to put you on it. I like you, you make me feel comfortable." Bucky pleaded

"I'll see what I can do." I said, getting up from his bed, "Goodnight Bucky."

"Goodnight Laura."

I returned to my room with a smirk on my face. I don't exactly know why but I felt quite happy after my chat with Bucky. Maybe it was just that I had finally told someone other than Director Fury about what had happened to me, it felt like a weight had lifted off of my shoulders. Climbing into bed, I made sure to remember to ask Steve to put me on rehab when he called us all for our meeting in the morning before flicking the lamp that was sat next to my bed off and drifting into a calmer sleep.