Buzzkill [Winter Soldier]

Chapter 25

Over the next few short weeks, Ruth did multiple, differing missions for Hydra with James alongside her. She did whatever they asked of her. The first mission was like the one she missed out on in the beginning; retrieving information from an undercover Hydra agent posing as a "SHIELD" agent close by. Only two of the many missions she did those weeks were an actual planned assassination to a target; both of which Ruth was the one to pull the trigger. The rest were various retrieval or intel gathering jobs. Hydra assigned James to stay close by on all of the missions she went on, waiting on their command to take Ruth out if need be.

    Dr. Mage was overwhelmed with excitement thinking of the possibilities this would led to for him and Hydra. Perfecting this would mean no more tricky memory-erasing and brainwashing that would have to be redone every few months or years. Injecting this into the most lethal of human weapons could turn them into powerful assets for Hydra.

Ruth never ran away. She never even tried when out in the field. Dr. Mage loved it, his serum worked. The serum fed on the psychological training the Woman instilled in her all those years, making Ruth feel extremely co-dependent. Now Ruth could only function and thrive when someone else was telling her what to do and where to be. Visually speaking, Ruth looked and acted completely normal, tricking her own mind into thinking nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary.

    She didn't feel desperate. She just felt the need to stay close, close to the people who were providing for her. She felt an ache in her chest when she thought about being alone, or the split second when she thought she lost track of James on a mission.

Every time Ruth sat with James while they were out on a job, all she could think about was his name.

Barnes. Sargeant James Barnes. He was a Sargeant in World War II, and yet they still disrespect him like this. Putting a mask on him whenever he went to a mission, for what? To hide him from the world? If they wanted to protect him they would give him a helmet.

    The nights Ruth and James sat in different motel and apartment rooms waiting out a target were spent talking. It wasn't a constant chat, and it wasn't small talk either. They both had grown comfortable with silence and never found the time awkward or wasted.

Most of the time, when Ruth would look at James, he held the same expression as if he were a lifeless being; a ghost. Because of this, Ruth could see the exact moments when James would almost remember something, when that little light inside his mind would flicker. She wondered if they had ever erased his memory while she was there. James still remembered her whenever they met up, but she didn't know what memories they did and didn't control. The thing Ruth was dreadfully anticipating most was the sound, the unforgettable sound of the tortured screaming. She wondered if she would be able to hear it from her cell.

    Through their talks and nights on missions, Ruth and James developed a friendship of sorts; a mutual understanding and a reliability on one another. Ruth never asked any questions about James' past, even though she desperately wanted to know more.

A couple weeks later, the routine continued. Both Ruth and James sat in a room on the third floor of an abandoned apartment late at night watching and waiting for their target. Out of the silence, James spoke,

    "What was his name? Your brother?" He asked, his facial expression staying the same, but his voice showing interest.

    Ruth was a little taken back by the sudden question, it had been months since Ruth mentioned her brother.

    "Ryker. He was taken from Norway." Even the realization that she said 'taken' made Ruth feel a hint of pain again.

    "So, he wasn't your real brother?"

    "No." Ruth looked down at her hands.

    "Can I ask what happened to him?" James asked gently.

    "Yeah," Ruth began. "He was killed by the woman who ran the facility we were in in Sweden, the one who raised us." She took a deep breath, "I was the one who was supposed to kill him, but I couldn't. He was my only weakness...apparently."

    James didn't say anything, and Ruth didn't expect him to.

    "Even after they wiped his memory he was soft, and kind. I had always considered him my brother, and I just didn't have the heart to kill him."

    There was a moment of complete silence, but it was comfortable. Ruth knew that James was acknowledging all that she told him. It was still hard for her to realize she's telling someone this, but what did she have to lose?

    "Do you have a family? Do you remember?" James asked.

    Ruth forgot that he must assume her memories were taken just like his.

    "I do. The last time I checked they're still in Sweden, in that same house." Ruth gave an exasperated laugh.

    "They're still alive?"

    "Yep. My mother, father, and older sister."

    James looked at Ruth as if he didn't understand.

    "Are you wondering why I'm in this situation if they're still alive?"

    James nodded.

    "They were the ones that put me in this situation. They sold me."

    Concern came across James' face.

    "Well, my mother sold me," Ruth continued, "when I was really young. I thought I was just going to school, or going to get some ice cream. But all my mother wanted that day was some money so she could keep that god-forsaken house."

    "Did your father know?" James asked, still engaged into everything Ruth was saying.

    "I don't know. I always assumed he knew something, but that little part of me still wondered if all of these years that he didn't know. That maybe he even looked for me at least once. And at night, while I sat in that small room at that cold facility, I wondered if he thought...if he thought it was all worth it." Ruth's eyes watered, and she realized she just told him something that she had never told anyone, even Ryker.

    When Ruth looked at James' face, his eyes just gazed right into hers. She could see he felt sorry for her, but he just didn't know what to say.

    Ruth stood up suddenly and brushed her hands against her jeans as if she were trying to rub off the emotion she was feeling, "But that doesn't matter anymore. I'm right where I'm meant to be."

    Walking past him, he grabbed her arm, gently. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft. Ruth didn't know why he would apologize.

    "It's not your fault."