Buzzkill [Winter Soldier]

Chapter 23

No one felt the need to be nice during the injection. Ruth knew that the way they put the needle in her arm would result in a horrible bruise by that evening. During the whole injection process she was in a disorienting fog, her spine still stinging and her face burning.

Back in her room, Ruth moved slowly, and used her sock as a make-shift ice pack again, but this time for her arm. Each mark from every injection had varying degrees of bruising, making her arm look just as beaten and battered as her ribs and face. She didn't even care about the blood that covered her face, she just carefully wiped off as much dried blood as she could without irritating the open cuts.

    Feeling a shadow, Ruth looked up to see James standing at her door, not saying a word.

She didn't want to look him in the eye, she didn't know what to say or what he would say.

    "Why did you do that?" James asked, his voice firm.

    Ruth paused, "Stop you from killing yourself?"

    "No. Why did you put it on yourself? Why did you let them blame you?"

    Ruth tried to take a deep breath, she winced as the the sharp pain hindered her. "If they knew that you tried to kill yourself, that would mean that you were feeling again, and feeling again would mean that your memories were coming back."

James expression stayed firm, "Why do you care?"

    "I've been through this before with someone," Ruth started, "so I know that you're getting those memories back right now. I know that it seems like too much, but you have to hide it. I can't imagine for myself the hell you've gone through these past seventy years, and maybe dying would be better than staying here any longer. But if Hydra is trying so desperately to take those memories away, then they must hold something great." Ruth struggled to keep speaking her mind. "The last time this happened, and to a person I cared about, I saw him die before he was able to recover those memories and have joy again. And it killed me."

    James looked around him to make sure no one was listening or walking by. "How do you know that there is something to recover?"

    "I don't," Ruth said honestly. "But I do know that there is someone else who is the same age they were seventy years ago, and I don't think it's a coincidence that you two are the only people who seemed to have been around this long with those circumstances." Ruth wished she could know what James was thinking. He kept his facial expression the same, so she continued,

    "I think you know him. I think one of those voices in your head is his."

    James eyes changed, they lit up with an interest as if Ruth struck something.

    "Just hold on as long as you can, please," Ruth pleaded.

    "You should never have risked your life for me. I promise I'll repay you," his voice was soft.

    Ruth gave a small smile. It was the nervous emotion that came from knowing she may not be alive for him to get the chance.

    "Maybe one day you'll tell me about him? Your friend?" James asked, the first hint of interest he ever had towards Ruth's life.

    "Brother. And yes, I would love to. He meant a lot to me."

    After Ruth's words, for the first time, she saw him give the slightest smile. She could see the faint light inside of him illuminating.