An Attempt at Sunshine (Winter Soldier) (Marvel)

[07.00] [August 29, 2015]

I am sitting.

The cell is warm and the cot is soft. They gave me different clothes. These ones are soft and don't hurt when they rub against my skin. The people stitched me up well, and my face isn't as swollen as it was last night. They fed me this morning, as well as the night before.

I rub the soft blue fabric of my sleeve between my fingers, breathing softly through the mesh and leather. The scent of old blood fills my lungs and I hold back a gag. This isn't the worst it's been. I'm fine.

People keep moving past the glass wall to my left, occasionally glancing my direction. A man moves towards the enclosure and stares at us for a moment before sliding his ID card over the sensor and opening the door. He stands in front of us, his tall, black clad figure imposing in the white room.

"My name is Director Fury."

I maintain eye contact, breathing slowly, taking him in.

"Do you know why you are here?"

I lean my head back against the cot. The concrete is getting uncomfortable to sit on but I am fine.

"Can you talk?"

I look back at him, can I manage it anymore?, I nod.

"Will you talk?"

I stare through him.

"Okay. Are they treating you well?"

I don't know what the standards for hospitality are anymore. What year is it? I nod.

"Do you know where you are?"

I shake my head.

"This is S.H.I.E.L.D. Stategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement Logistics Division. We are in Washingtion D.C. right now. We found you in Chicago yesterday, do you remember?"

I nod.

"Okay, you're safe now. Your only worry now is the law, they will come for you if they find everything you've done."

IT WASN'T ME

"As far as we understand, from the scans we did last night, there are some dramatic changes in your brain chemistry, we don't think you are necessarily at fault. Though you will have to work with us."

Please no. I stare through him again. I don't want to handle people now. You cannot trust people.

The steely clomping of combat boots startles me, I watch as a squadron marches past the cell. One girl breaks formation to stare at us. I hadn't noticed I was hyperventilating and suddenly I am suffocating, my throat closes in, the room closes in, the stares penetrate my skin. Am I dying? I stagger to my feet, my hands groping for the mask that keeps me safe and silent. I rest my head on the wall and toss the thing into the sink below me.

Fury stares. Fury, fury, why do they call him that? I turn the water on and scrape the poison from the inside of the leather.

I breathe.

I slip the mask back on, letting it settle on my jaw, cradle my eyes. Safe.

"Why do you keep that thing?" He asks, quiet now, almost scared.

I stare.