Remembering Freedom

Welcome, Doctor Simmons

It was only supposed to be a night out, Jemma thought. Just a night to herself in her flat where she could take a break from all the craziness that was S.H.I.E.L.D. Of course, it was that night when HYDRA thought it necessary to blow open the door and knock her unconscious. Now here she was in a holding cell, her ankle shackled to the heavy metal bed frame and a hell of a bump on her head.

Looking at the metal holding her to the bed, she was disappointed to find no locking mechanism or anything that could help her remove it. She tested the strength, already knowing she'd never in a million years be strong enough to break it on her own. The sound of chains rattling must have alerted those guarding her because the door swung open, nearly blinding her as the light spilled into her once darkness filled the cell.

"Doctor Jemma Simmons. Such a pleasure to meet you."

She flinched at the thick German accent and what that meant but looked at him anyways. He was ordinary in appearance: mousy brown hair slicked back and dark brown eyes set in a somewhat small face. There was nothing in his eyes...and that scared her. She couldn't help but compare him to Ward right before he sent her and Fitz to the bottom of the ocean.

"You are probably wondering what you are doing here."

She stubbornly set her jaw, refusing to speak. Her hands were tightly clutching the thin sheets and her heart was pounding in her ears. Whatever the reason was, Jemma doubted it was anything remotely good.

He didn't seem perturbed by her lack of response. "Since Whitehall's untimely death, HYDRA has been having trouble finding an individual with a vast knowledge of human and alien biology. You, my dear...have that knowledge."

"I'm not sharing any of that with you."

Suddenly a hand was gripping her chin and forcing her to look into those dead eyes. "I'm sorry to say you will have no choice in the matter that is...if you want to live." He smiled as he stood up. "I could always send you back to Coulson piece by piece. It would be a shame to mar that pretty face of yours."

She swallowed. She wasn't like May or the others. She couldn't hide away her emotions under a mask of indifference...she was only a lab rat, not trained to deal with torture. "What do I have to do?"

"We'll start you off with something simple." He said something in German to the man next to him and he quickly pulled out a black hood and forced it over her head.

She heard the sound of the shackle being unlocked and she was then pulled to her feet, which were bare at that time they took her. The concrete felt like ice as she was shoved down a long corridor and they made a few indiscernible turns before a door was opened and the hood was yanked off. Giving her eyes a few seconds to adjust the sudden brightness again, she took stock of the medical tools and the bed that was currently unoccupied.

"Your patient is on his way." He said before the door shut behind her.

Jemma fought the urge to curl into a ball. She was an S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and she wouldn't let them see her break down...at least not here. Digging around in one of the cupboards, she found medical booties and pulled on a few layers to cover her exposed feet. She was in the middle of sterilizing the tools when the door opened. Setting the instruments back into the sink, she turned around and had to use the counter to stand upright.

She'd heard the rumors of the Winter Soldier, the ghost assassin with a metal arm, throughout her years at S.H.I.E.L.D. before it fell, but she wasn't prepared to see him in the flesh. He was tall, nearly six feet, with a tangled mass of chin length black hair and dead blue eyes, a mask covering the rest of his face. She forced her eyes away from him when he dumped the body he had slung over his shoulder onto the bed, his metal arm gleaming in the bright light.