An Attempt at Sunshine (Winter Soldier) (Marvel)

[08.00] [September 3, 2015]

My head is against the glass. The glass is cold and it sooths my headache. He keeps whispering to me. He is mad. I have not been in control this long before and it takes its toll.

Focus

Focus

Focus

Come on soldier.

Metal claws at my flesh, it tears at my arm. I cannot cry. I will not cry,

There is a man at the door. I do not recognize this one. It is not the intern who brings me my food or the guard who makes sure I don't draw pretty little lines in my skin. He is tall, dusty blonde hair, fumbling with his ID card.

The door clicks.

I do not look up.

"Um. Sorry- I... are you okay?"

Am I okay? No I am not I am screaming and fighting and I am tired let me sleep I just want to sleep please no

I glance up at him and stop breathing.

It's the man with the ghost eyes.

I stand up, measuring myself against him without his suit. He is not much larger than I am, an inch taller, but he is thicker and healthier. I sit on the cot and stare at the ground, unable to look in those eyes. I let my fingers trace the stitches in the mask. He sits next to me, too close, I can feel the heat coming from him, It almost feels nice. I tilt my head to the side, tugging at the strings under my skin.

"They feeding you?"

I nod.

"Okay. Good, good. Sorry about, you know.." He gestures to the flesh around my eye.

I nod again.

I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He has wrinkles around his eyebrows, making him look much older than he is. I'd put him around 31. He is sculpted well, but he doesn't seem to notice, he wears a sweater that bags around his lower arms and stomach, a simple pair of jeans. His hands are calloused, he keeps rubbing them together.

The man suddenly turns, picking his feet up and sitting cross-legged on the cot, facing me.

"Why didn't you let them take that mask?"

Don't take it from me please.

"I watched you when they took you here. You let them take the uniform but not that." He points to my face, letting his finger brush the leather.

I wince.

"Why?"

I pick my own feet up, they feel like they're made of stone, and sit cross-legged, like his mirror. I keep his eyes on mine and he can't help but smile. His crooked grin makes me want to smile too.

"Okay. Not so big and bad as you look."

I cock my head. Big and bad? He keeps talking to me, telling me to give him control, trying to kill me, tear at my wiring. I am in charge now. I push him down.

"Will you let me take it off?"

NO. DON'T YOU DARE LET HIM TOUCH YOU.

Shut up.

I am in control right now.

I get to make choices now.

Not you.

I keep staring at him.

He slowly moves forward, his arms reaching out.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING.

YOU CANNOT TRUST HIM. HE WILL TEAR YOU APART LIKE THE OTHERS THEY ARE LYING THEYARELYING

I do not move.

His fingers brush my face.

In and out. In and out in and out.

We are on him in a second flat

I am pushed aside, thrown against the walls of my own brain. I scream and try to grab hold again but he is too fast.

He throws the man across the room and hits the wall with a sickening thud.

I claw my way back to the top, easier now without the soft cloud of torture and poison clogging my brain. I watch him cough, once, twice, wipe the blood from his chin.

I'm sorry.

He looks up, the softness in his eyes gone.

I stay rigid, waiting for the impending attack.

The door clicks.

He is gone.